wolf

he unhands himself from one of his friends and runs over.

"i'm going to your room," megumi announces bluntly from over your shoulder.

"yeah! i'll come check on you after," yuji agrees.

you could easily see on megumi's face that the party scene is not his. he'd rather be anywhere else right now. but him coming for yuji and choso is sweet.

"i got my switch, megs. wanna play mario kart?" toge asks him.

megumi shrugs, "sure."

those two head upstairs, talking softly amongst all the yelling and music.

"who wants to drink?!" yuji yells.

nobara, panda and you shriek in enthusiasm. yuji takes you three of you to the kitchen where the alcohol is lined up, ready to enamour you. choso is there, holding a glass tray of untouched tiramisu.

he's frowning.

"aw, hey, choso," you say, giving him a side hug.

"hi," he meekly responds.

"did no one try your tiramisu yet?" you ask.

"no. would you guys like some?"

"yeah!" you all scream at him.

he's taken aback at the response but dishes some out for the three of you.

upon the first bite, you knew you were in heaven.

"i needed this," nobara comments.

"i'm gonna fucking wife you up!" you comment, slapping his butt.

choso blushes, "you guys are too nice."

after eating that heaven sent tiramisu and having alcohol in your system, you're tipsy. the five of you are dancing in the crowd, lost in the music. just like that, all your worries disappear into thin air, replaced with hot bodies surrounding you, leaving no space for you to breathe.

you didn't know how much you needed this until it happened.

"bitchhh, i missed you two," a very faded shoko came over, wrapping her arms around you and nobara. she kisses both of you on the head, reeking of weed.

nobara and you laugh at her. however, she doesn't seem super balanced, needing the two of you to stand up.

"are you good?!" you ask her.

"i don't know what i am," she frowns, eyes red.

"oh my god, shoko!" a worried voice calls. "you've done it this time!"

utahime appears throughout the crowd.

"himeee~!" shoko smiles, throwing her arms around utahime. utahime almost falls down from the weight, but nobara and you help her. "hime, i love you so much."

"i love you too, but we need to get you to bed. you've done too much tonight," utahime scolds her.

"don't scold me, honey. i'll be very sad," shoko pouts. "just tell me you love me."

"oh, she's fucking gone," yuji comments, glancing over. "you can bring her to my room. megumi and toge are there too, so she'll be alright."

"okay. do you girls mind giving me a hand?" utahime asks.

nobara and you agree, grabbing whatever is left of shoko and start pulling her out of the crowd of dancers. getting past the couch to the staircase proves to be a difficult task.

even more difficult when your eyes catch a familiar someone sitting lonesome on it.

sukuna's lighting a cigarette.

he looks up at you. the tension is prominent. he leans back and takes a hit of his cigarette, offering no help to the current dilemma.

you can't tell what he's thinking when he looks at you.

is he being condescending? mad? definitely not apologetic. you roll your eyes and pay attention to shoko.

unfortunately she's not having it. throwing a fit at her big age.

luckily, geto comes at the right time. he exchanges words with utahime and carries shoko in one go.

"what an idiot," he sighs, looking down at her.

"hime, are you carrying me?! i didn't know you were so strong!" shoko smiles, caressing geto's cheek and kicking her feet like some teenage girl in love.

"does she like utahime or something?" nobara whispers to you.

"hm, can't tell," you respond.

the two of you laugh. nobara catches sukuna on the couch, "oh, shit."

"i know," you sigh heavily.

"i'm gonna go upstairs with them and get her in bed," utahime tells the two of you. "thank you for your help."

just as she's about to leave, nobara sprints over, "i'll come with you!"

your jaw drops to hell.

you know exactly what she's trying to do...

betrayal.

nevertheless, you turn right on your heels, about to walk off.

"gonna ignore me, miss sweet ass?"

don't retaliate, don't retaliate—

"shut up," you spit back at him, turning around. a look of repulsion plants right on your face.

sukuna grabs onto your wrist, "c'mon, don't be mad at me."

just like that, all the anger hits you.

"let me go. right now."

he drops your hand immediately and relaxes on the couch.

"fine," he shrugs, blowing out a puff of smoke. "we don't have to talk. i was gonna let you hit me."

"what?"

"interested," sukuna notes.

"no, i don't know what you're talking about."

"sit," he instructs you, eyes pointing to the empty spot next to him. "i'll tell you."

you don't know if it's because you're drunk or because you want to hear him out, but you know sober you wouldn't have done it. you take the spot next to him, a prideful grin spreading on his lips.

you don't like it.

he got you exactly where he wants.

"you can hit me for calling you a bitch," he explains. "as hard as you want."

the idea does perk an interest in you. however, you put up a strong front, "does the word 'sorry' not leave your mouth?"

"nope," he replies.

"i want a proper apology," you state.

"take it while the offer is there. i don't let just anyone do that."

"so you're saying i'm not just anyone?" you ask, crossing your arms.

sukuna sighs, "are you gonna hit me or not, bitch—"

you land a tight slap on his cheek. his entire face propels to the left. he tongues his cheek where you hit him and grabs his jaw. sukuna turns back to face you, shocked at your force.

"happy?" he asks through gritted teeth.

"nah, i want an apology," you reply. "you gonna apologise?"

"fuck no."

you slap him again, this time harder.

he scoffs. it was so hard you thought the tattoos on his face was gonna fly off.

"i'm not apologising."

you slap him again, "wrong answer. and, now, i'm gonna walk away because you're full of shit—"

you're so ready to leave the couch but he pulls you down.

"i'm sorry," he finally apologises.

you raise your hand, prepared to land another hit.

"i said sorry!" he exclaims defensively.

"are you fucking serious? what else? that's not how you apologise, bitch," you reply, seething with anger.

"oh, so you can call me a bitch, but i can't? okay," he nods.

you shake your head in annoyance, "can't fucking do this. you're so arrogant."

you're about to leave one more time when he grabs your wrist again, "fine, fine. i'm playin' around. seriously, i'm sorry for calling you a bitch. it's a malicious and degrading term to be calling a woman and i promise it won't happen again. please take my apology, miss sweet ass."

a few beats of silence pass by.

sukuna's eyebrows are drawn in, searching your face for mercy somewhere. you're face is stone, unwavering of any kind of said matter.

hm, he does look terribly sorry.

maybe you'll let it slide this time.

you shake your hand off his. you swing your hand for the last time.

he flinches immediately, preparing to take cover.

you land a soft tap on his face.

"good, you should be scared," you state. "don't let it happen again."

"you're fucking crazy," he mumbles, shaking his head.

"yeah? so are you," you reply.

"nah, not like you."

you sigh, relaxing on the couch, "whatever."

"did that feel good? hitting me?" he asks you.

you nod, "yeah, gonna do it again next time you mess up."

sukuna smiles? he's looking at you with complexity, like he's trying to analyse who the fuck you are.

some guy calls him over from the front door.

"gotta go," he says.

you sigh, "'kay, bye."

"don't drink too much," he warns, shockingly soft.

"mmm, you too."

then, he leaves.

you raise your hand to your face, the sting on it buzzing.

that did feel really good...

later on, panda, who saw the whole thing go down, drags you, yuji and choso upstairs to yuji's room to fill them in on the details.

a faded shoko gives her adlibs in the background, but besides that, you told them everything that happened.

you enjoy the night as it goes, sukuna watching from a distance here and there.

eyes on you.

never leaving you.

with that same analytical look on his face,

PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

SUMMARY ★ he believes you don't matter to him. just one more annoying fangirl. showing up to his races, being obnoxiously chatty and your flirting—god, does it end? sukuna dreads you. however, he starts reciprocating, as a joke, of course! until it doesn't feel like a joke anymore and he wants nothing but you on his side.

PAIRING ★ streetracer!sukuna x fem!reader

CONTENT WARNINGS / GENRES / TAGS ★ smau w/ written chapters, smut, angst, sukuna is a lot older than reader, older brother to choso and yuji, he was in jail for getting caught racing LOL, nsfw/vulgar jokes like allll the time, inumaki talks (UNFORTUNATELY), sukuna playing w her feelings, he is toxic!

he was already there when you arrived.

that should not have mattered as much as it did, but the sight of him leaning against his car beneath the spill of a streetlamp made something warm and inconvenient shift low in your stomach. he looked unfair in the kind of casual way men never seemed to appreciate, broad shoulders under a dark shirt, one hand in his pocket, the other tapping idly against his keys as if he had not checked the time twice in the last minute. when your headlights swept over him, he straightened just enough to give away that he had been waiting for you specifically. he did not wave, did not smile, did not pretend eagerness.

but his eyes found you immediately.

you stayed in your car a moment longer than necessary, checking your reflection with a look of deep personal offense. your lipstick was fine. your hair was fine. you looked good enough that it should have felt like victory rather than vulnerability. by the time you stepped out, he had already crossed half the distance between you, gaze moving over you once in a way that was shameless and slow enough to count as a touch.

“you clean up nice,” he said.

“and you still sound stupid.”

“there she is.”

his mouth tilted at one corner, small and dangerous. it irritated you how quickly your body recognized that expression now, how easily it translated it into something warmer than annoyance. he reached for the passenger door before you could get there, pulling it open with an ease that did not match the rest of him.

“i can open my own door.”

“i know.”

“then why are you doing it.”

he looked down at you, unbothered. “because i wanted to.”

you hated how simple that answer was.

the drive was short, though you noticed every second of it. the quiet confidence of his hands on the wheel. the way he drove one armed like the car itself understood him well enough not to require effort. the low music playing through the speakers, something smooth and old that made the city lights outside feel softer than usual. when you glanced over, he caught you immediately.

“miss me that bad?”

“i was checking if you always look this smug or if it’s seasonal.”

“you keep lookin’ and maybe i’ll answer.”

you rolled your eyes and looked out the window before he could see your smile threatening.

the restaurant was intimate without being obnoxious about it, warm lighting cast low over polished wood and crowded tables. the kind of place where voices naturally softened and everything felt closer than it was. toji gave his name to the host like he had done this a hundred times, hand settling briefly at the small of your back to guide you through the room. the contact lasted only a second.

it was enough to ruin your pulse.

he noticed, of course. men like him noticed everything when it suited them.

“relax,” he murmured near your ear as you walked. “just touchin’ your back, not proposing.”

“keep dreaming.”

“didn’t say it was my dream.”

you nearly stumbled.

the host seated you in a curved booth tucked partially away from the rest of the room. close enough to feel private, open enough to watch everyone else. you slid in first, and toji took the seat across from you before reconsidering and moving beside you instead.

you stared at him.

“what are you doing.”

“better view.”

“of the room?”

“nah.”

his eyes dropped pointedly to your mouth before returning to your face.

you turned to the menu before your expression betrayed you.

the server approached a moment later, young, polished, and immediately too eager. he smiled first at you, then at toji only as an obligation.

“good evening,” he said, voice warmed half a degree too much in your direction. “can i start you with something to drink, beautiful?”

toji went still beside you.

not tense. not dramatic. simply still in the way large predators did when something entered their space that had not yet realized it was prey. you felt it more than saw it, the subtle shift in the air at your side.

you looked up at the waiter slowly.

“can’t you see i’m on a date, you idiot?”

the silence that followed was exquisite.

the waiter blinked, smile collapsing in stages. “i, uh, i just meant”

“you meant to be annoying,” you said flatly. “congratulations.”

toji leaned back beside you, one arm stretching across the back of the booth behind your shoulders like he had all the room in the world. when you glanced sideways, he was watching the waiter with an expression so mild it circled back to threatening.

“i’ll take a whiskey,” he said lazily. “she’ll have whatever she wants and you’ll stop flirting with her.”

the waiter flushed a violent shade of red, scribbled something, and retreated.

you exhaled through your nose. “moron.”

toji was grinning now, broad enough to show teeth.

“what.”

“nothin’.”

“say it.”

“you got all mean for me.”

“i got mean because he was stupid.”

“sure.”

you turned toward him sharply. “wipe that look off your face.”

“can’t. too happy.”

“you’re unbearable.”

“and yet.” he tipped his head slightly closer. “you defended our date.”

our date.

the phrase landed with embarrassing force.

you looked back at the menu as if it had personally offended you. “i defended basic social awareness.”

“keep explainin’ it. gets cuter every time.”

you elbowed him in the ribs hard enough to matter.

he laughed.

the drinks came quickly, delivered by a different server who looked determined to survive the shift. you took a long sip of wine while toji watched over the rim of his glass like he expected entertainment at any moment. being observed by him had become its own kind of physical sensation, one you had not learned how to ignore.

“you jealous?” you asked finally.

“of him?” he scoffed. “please.”

“you looked tense.”

“i looked annoyed.”

“same thing for possessive men.”

he angled toward you, close enough now that the booth suddenly felt smaller. “you wanna know what jealous looks like?”

your throat tightened despite yourself. “not particularly.”

“liar.”

he said it softly, eyes lowered to your lips again. then he took another drink and leaned back like he had not just disrupted your breathing for sport.

you hated how often he won small things.

conversation moved easier than the first night, less guarded in some places and sharper in others. he asked questions like they were accidental and remembered every answer no matter how casually given. your favorite dessert. the city you wanted to leave and never had. the fact that you hated people who chewed loudly. each detail resurfaced later in some offhand comment that proved he had stored it away.

most men listened only for openings.

toji listened like gathering information was instinct.

“you’re quieter tonight,” he said after a while.

“i’m eating.”

“you can insult me and chew at the same time. i believe in you.”

“maybe i’m enjoying the silence.”

“nah.” his fingers tapped once on the table. “you’re nervous.”

you laughed outright. “delusional.”

“your leg’s been brushing mine for ten minutes.”

you froze.

then slowly looked down beneath the table, where his thigh was indeed pressed lightly against yours in the narrow booth. impossible to tell whose fault it had been originally. impossible to move now without making it obvious.

“space is limited,” you said.

“right.”

“don’t start.”

“didn’t say anything.”

“your face did.”

“good. means you’re payin’ attention.”

you should have moved your leg.

you did not.

instead you let the contact remain, warm and steady and increasingly distracting while pretending nothing was happening. he knew exactly what you were doing. the smugness rolling off him was almost visible.

when dinner arrived, you found it difficult to focus on food while his knee occasionally nudged yours as he shifted. accidental enough to deny, deliberate enough to notice. at one point his hand reached past you for the bread basket, forearm brushing yours, and your body reacted so quickly you nearly dropped your fork.

his mouth twitched.

“you alright there?”

“fine.”

“you seem flustered.”

“you seem ugly.”

“there she is.”

you wanted to stab him with the butter knife.

instead, you took another drink.

halfway through the meal, a man passing your table glanced down at you and smiled too long. harmless enough on its face, but familiar in the way men often were when they thought women existed as ambient decoration. before you could ignore it, toji’s hand settled over your knee under the table.

firm.

casual.

claiming.

the stranger kept walking.

you looked at toji sharply. “did you just”

“what.”

“that.”

“protectin’ your peace.”

“you are the loudest thing in it.”

his thumb moved once against your knee before lifting away entirely, like he had forgotten it was there. the brief loss of contact annoyed you more than the touch had.

you stared at your plate.

he watched you do it.

“you blush easy for someone so mean.”

“i’ll kill you.”

“there she is again.”

dessert came because he ordered it without asking, some warm chocolate thing with two spoons placed beside it. when you raised an eyebrow, he shrugged.

“you looked like you wanted somethin’ sweet.”

“and you thought of yourself first?”

“always.”

you took the first bite anyway, then closed your eyes for a second at the taste before you could stop yourself.

toji made a low sound beside you.

you opened them immediately. “what now.”

“nothin’.” his voice had gone rougher somehow. “just liked that face.”

heat climbed your throat so fast it was humiliating.

“you’re disgusting.”

“you’re cute.”

“i regret defending you.”

“you loved defending me.”

“i tolerated it.”

“you called him an idiot.”

“because he was.”

“for flirtin’ with a woman already on a date.”

“correct.”

“with me.”

you set the spoon down carefully. “you’re talking a lot.”

“you’re avoidin’ agreeing.”

“you’re insufferable.”

“and you came anyway.”

that was the problem, wasn’t it.

you had.

when the bill arrived, you reached for it on instinct. his hand landed over yours first.

warm, broad, immediate.

“absolutely not,” he said.

“i can pay for my own meal.”

“didn’t say you couldn’t.”

“then move.”

“nah.”

you looked down at where his hand covered yours. neither of you moved. the server waited politely, eyes elsewhere with the wisdom of experience.

“toji.”

“you say my name nice when you’re irritated.”

“i’m about to say it worse.”

“lookin’ forward to it.”

he paid while still trapping your hand beneath his, thumb idly brushing once over your knuckles before releasing. by the time he stood, your pulse was a mess and he knew it.

outside, the night had turned cool, the sidewalks slick from earlier rain. city lights reflected in broken gold across the pavement. he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders before you could protest.

“i don’t need this.”

“i know.”

“then why.”

he stepped closer to adjust the collar around you, fingers brushing your neck with maddening carelessness. “because i like how you look in my things.”

your breath caught.

traitorous body.

“that was a terrible line.”

“worked though.”

you opened your mouth, then shut it again.

his grin widened.

the walk to the parking lot was slower than necessary. his hand occasionally finding your back, your elbow, the small spaces where touch could pass as guidance. each one brief enough to deny and long enough to feel.

you crossed your arms. “so, about earlier. you were jealous?”

“yeah. so?”

the bluntness startled you enough that you looked over. he kept his eyes on where you were walking, his facial expression not giving you enough magnification to see what was going on inside that handsome head of his.

“that was easy for you to admit.” you say, slight surprise on your tongue. he scoffs a bit.

“you know it was obvious, woman. useless and unnecessary question.”

“and if i’d flirted back?”

his jaw shifted once, tightening as the veins on his neck strain slightly. “would’ve dragged you out by your pretty wrist, sweetheart. doon’t fuckin’ try that shit.”

your stomach started to feel funny.

he laughed softly at your reaction when you both are getting closer to your cars. though, neither of you moved to get in them. the jacket still smelled faintly like him around your shoulders, warm and distracting. he turned, his gaze settling over your face with none of the earlier playfulness softened, only deepened.

“you gonna invite me home?” he asked, “or keep makin’ me work for it?”

“who says i’m making you work? and coming home on the first date? please, i’m not that easy.”

“never called you easy, your whole personality says otherwise.”

“maybe i just like watching you try.”

“yeah?” he leaned closer, voice lowering. “you like a lotta things tonight, don’t cha?”

“name one.”

“when i touched your knee.”

heat flared instantly. his smirk widened at the pink he saw on your face.

“when i paid.” he stepped closer, his voice lowering and he started speaking slower. “when i got jealous.” he all but whispered, his warm breath fanning over the side of your face.

you hesitated to return the eye contact and his eyes sharpened at once.

“thought so.” he teased.

“don’t get smug.”

“too late.”

you reached for your car’s door handle just to break the moment. his hand caught your wrist before you could open it. not rough. not forceful. simply certain.

“hey.”

you looked back.

for once, his expression was almost gentle. almost.

“i had a good time, and i don’t usually like going to stupid restaurants.”

the sincerity of it hit harder than any line could have.

you swallowed. “you’re still annoying.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“come here then and tell me if i’m still annoying you.”

he tightened his hold on your hand and spun you to face him before pulling you closer, it was slower, giving you every chance to pull away and proving he already knew you wouldn’t. one hand slid from your wrist to your jaw, thumb pressing lightly beneath your chin as he guided your face toward his. the other braced against the hood of your car, caging you in without force, close enough that the heat of him wrapped around the small space between you and your car. your breath caught before his mouth even touched yours.

the first kiss landed slowly, but not softly. it was a slow press of lips that lingered just long enough to make your pulse stutter, his mouth warm and impatient against yours like he was testing how long he could make you wait. when you parted for a breath, he followed immediately, catching your lower lip between his teeth in a brief tug that drew a quiet sound from you before you could stop it.

he stilled for half a second then smiled against your mouth.

“aren’t you cute,” he murmured just to piss you off.

“shut up,” you whispered back, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pulling him in again.

that seemed to break the last of his restraint. the next kiss was deeper, fuller, and somehow even harder with his hand sliding from your jaw to the back of your neck as he angled you closer to him. he kissed like he argued, direct and certain, taking his time only because he knew it would ruin you more. your fingers tightened in his shirt as he kissed you again and again, each one slower than the last until you were the one chasing him when he pulled back an inch.

his low laugh brushed your lips.

“impatient.”

“you cannot be talking, you just tried swallowing my face.”

he answered by kissing you again, sharp and needy enough to wipe the smugness off of your face for all of two seconds. he made a rough sound in his throat and dragged you closer, one hand spreading over your waist now, thumb pressing into your side through the fabric of your clothes. the position was awkward, his height causing him to lean down at an awkward posture, but neither of you cared enough to fix it.

his mouth moved to the corner of yours, then your jaw, then just beneath your ear where he paused long enough to feel the shiver that ran through you.

“there she is,” he repeated quietly.

“say that again and i’m leaving.”

“liar.”

he kissed the spot below your ear anyway, slower this time, and your head tipped back before pride could stop it. his hand at your waist tightened in approval, drawing you even closer until your legs bumped into his and made both of you laugh under your breath. the sound only made it worse somehow, the brief softness of it, the intimacy of being tangled up and amused and unable to stop touching each other.

when his mouth found yours again, you kissed him harder, all teeth and heat and the frustration of wanting more than you meant to. he met it instantly, one hand back in your hair now, fingers threading at the nape of your neck as if he had every right. your lipstick was probably ruined and his shirt was wrinkled beneath your hands. neither of you cared.

eventually he pulled back just enough for air, forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing harder than either would admit. his thumb brushed once across your swollen lower lip, eyes fixed there before lifting to meet yours.

“you kiss mean too,” he said, voice roughened low.

“learned from you.”

“i like that.”

“yeah? prove it.”

he kissed you once more then, slower than all the others, unhurried and almost unfairly tender, as if he knew that would affect you more than anything rough ever could. when he finally let you go, you stayed close for one extra second before remembering yourself and pulling back.

his grin returned immediately. he took a few steps back while you quickly learn how to stand on your own without his big arms keeping you up. as you opened the driver’s seat to your car, toji spoke.

“you gonna text me when ya get home, sweetheart?”

you turned, walking backward a few steps.

“wouldn’t you like to know?”

“i know you’re gonna do it anyway.”

you smiled despite yourself.

“keep dreaming, toji.”

and with his signature grin, he said “already am.”

prodromal. (part four)

sukuna had discovered three key truths when he drove back home after yuuji kicked him out of his apartment. 

yuuji was right about sukuna. it was annoying to admit that his baby brother was right about anything, let alone something so fundamental to his character. it was easier to bark out orders and shelter him from the world. to not hear him be a mature person with complicated thoughts and his own perceptions— especially the ones about sukuna. deep down he knew he couldn’t keep yuuji unaware forever. he couldn’t deny that the events of their childhood scattered his soul, which he has since collected and duct taped together over the years. he knew he was a shitty person. better than anyone else. in the late hours of night he was kept up by the memories of their childhood, ones he couldn't burden yuuji or guilt their grandfather with. it was his to keep and bury within that duct taped soul. he had made peace with it, he thought.

he could respect yuuji’s wishes (withholding some information). messing with you was just an excuse to spend more time in your presence. if that wasn’t possible, he’d find ways around it. a small voice deep down was adamant to say attached to you, everyone be damned. 

he had seen you that day walk into the coffee shop in that gorgeous outfit, skirt swishing with every move of your hips, completely captivating him. moreover, he witnessed how you spoke with suguru and it made something tick inside. he’s never gotten jealous of his best friends, not until this very moment. who was he, that you smiled so big for him? hold on, why the fuck was suguru touching your hair? 

he pulled out a cigarette from his back pocket and lit it aggressively, smoke engulfing the sight before him. suguru was a friendly guy, he was often surrounded with women due to this fact. sukuna was well aware of it; and honestly didn’t care until he was witnessing before his eyes you becoming a part of that equation. 

friend or not, he wanted to barge in there and yank you away from his selfish, dirty and unwelcome hands. motherfucker. 

while his angry thoughts were steaming, sukuna didn’t realize suguru had left and was already making his way towards him at the bricks. sukuna’s eyes focused back and found the man towering over him, a question mark painted on his face. “thinking about something?”

sukuna flicked the ash gathering on his cigarette off of it and inhaled another puff. an exhale. “i’m gonna get a drink really quick.” he couldn’t look at suguru’s face without the urge to pound him into the ground, the scene of his fingers touching your hair on loop again and again in his mind. so, he pushes off the wall, crushing his cigarette with his boot, and makes his own way into the tacky coffee shop. he hated the sugary nature of the place, it was so suffocating. satoru loved coming around to buy sweets, but sukuna never let the man sit and stay at a table if he was dragged into accompanying the white-haired idiot. the girl at the register looked mildly nervous when he stalked inside, which was a common reaction he got given his tattoos and looming figure. sukuna’s eyes drifted to the display of pastries and bread, scanning. he recalled you eating chocolates during your study hangouts with yuuji, the goddamn wrappers always littered on the table. he decided the little chocolate pillow-looking thing (he refused to pronounce whatever the fuck a pain au chocolat is) would suffice, his eyes flitting to the sight of you getting verbally abused by your loud friend. “um.. what can i get you, sir?” the small voice of the attendant brought him back to the front. he nodded, pulling out his wallet. “that chocolate square shit.” she hummed in acknowledgement, and began getting the tong to pack it away. sukuna stopped her. “er.. actually, i’m buying this for someone. you see that girl over there? with the green ribbons?” she looked at him with wide eyes, then found you. she nodded slowly. “that’s my girl. give it to her for me?” “o-oh! how sweet.. will do, sir! anything else for you, then?” he shakes his head. sukuna leaves, paying for your little treat. and now, he waits. suguru looked at sukuna and noticed his empty hands, even more confused than before.

“didn’t you say you were getting a drink?” 

“changed my fuckin’ mind.” 

he pulled another cigarette out to light and his friend sucked his teeth in response. “you really need to find another vice. nicotine is total shit, man. ‘s why i started weed instead, y’know–” 

“suguru, please shut the fuck up.” 

suguru’s mouth pops in mild shock, but he obliges. he knew well it wasn’t worth picking a fight with sukuna when his mood was sour, he learned that by watching satoru try sukuna’s patience on the daily. his eyes trail your figure making your way to the register and the scene unfolds exactly like he asked. he chuckled as you started looking around exasperatedly, finally meeting his eyes. he gave you a little wave. you ignore him, the treatment he’s been getting for a while now. in due time, sukuna thought. in due time he would chip at your resolve, little by little, until your walls completely broke down. discreetly and respectfully, of course.

because above all, yuuji didn’t have to know about his attempts. sukuna didn’t intend to lie, per say.. he just decided he could have his cake and eat it too. said cake being you.

and so this brings us to the final and most universal truth:

3. he needed you in the rawest form possible. the realization was natural. when you had asked him that night upstairs, he was caught up in words because he didn’t want to end up saying the wrong thing– it was delicate. but he needed you. sukuna didn’t know how to describe why in words either.. he was studying engineering, you think he was killing it in english literature?  he just knew the feeling you gave him, the one that ignited a fire in his chest and a desire to orbit your sun. he had decided he wasn’t going to let you put him on the sidelines anymore; developing the fake half-way point to pursuing you in silence.

your internship was much more simple than you expected. while your interest in professor kaito’s research was high and got your foot in the door, the actual work was rather lackluster. you spent maybe three hours at your desk organizing files and sending simple emails, but other than that? you were just passing time. 

you had met her other student assistants a couple days into it, also in your graduation year. a mild mannered blonde man named kento and his super-positive friend, haibara. you thought kento outright hated you in the beginning, but quickly understood he was just another overworked college student. poor guy.

it really helped having something to take your mind off of sukuna’s futile attempts at catching your attention that had begun a month ago.

oh, how he was irking you. 

the bakery freebie was the first of many unnecessary gestures sukuna had done. he had made it a habit to buy you food and have it reach you in the weirdest ways. just last week, he had hit a new low by having a doordash guy somehow get you energy drinks and candies in the middle of a lecture. a note was attached that read, ‘don’t fall asleep, pretty. -s’. you were embarrassed, but thankfully the professor didn’t notice. you also took it up to apologize profusely to the doordash guy for having to fulfill such a weird request— you had handed him a crumpled up five dollar bill from your backpack because you felt so bad. your lunch got paid for randomly, your backpack had tiny presents waiting for you when you opened it, the list was endless. you were not only irritated but also mildly spooked that sukuna was able to evade your presence and manage these stunts simultaneously. he was like a romantic batman. ew, what? no. that doesn’t even make sense.

you were walking up to your apartment door late one night to see a deep red bag with black tulle stuffed into it sitting in front of it. you knew there was nobody else that would leave a gift like this in front of your door, and so you begrudgingly took it inside. it was rather heavy, which made you curious as to what exactly sukuna got you this time. 

as you put it on your tiny kitchen table, pulling tulle away from the bag, you spot the gold-embossed box. it was a really expensive brand you had heard of but never dared to think about buying from. you could hear your parents’ voices echoing in your head about being fiscally responsible, eliciting a shiver. carefully breaking the seal, you lift the lid to see the most gorgeous pair of maroon high-heeled mary janes. and once more, a note stuck to the tissue wrappings:

 ‘for my red ruby girl. -s’

your first emotion couldn’t be anger when the gift was so thoughtful like this. you giddily squeal and try them on— a perfect fit. but how? sukuna never asked for your size.. and you doubt yuuji would tell him without ruining the surprise for you. he’s so weird for that, you thought. 

you walk to your floor length mirror in your bedroom and stare at the shoes, thinking. 

he pays attention to what you like.

this was a stupid realization; he’d been getting you snacks and miscellaneous tidbits that were undoubtedly your favorites for a while. but it hits you nonetheless, your cheeks’ blush growing. you slowly sit on the ground, knees to your chest. what the fuck. you dig your fingers into the shaggy carpet, pressing down hard. you were hoping the hurty-happy ache in your fingers would go away, the one you get when you feel deeply emotional. the attempts he had made were like little vines growing over your heart, ones you had ignored for far too long and now they squeeze you tightly as if to say, “i’m literally never fucking leaving bitch!” 

you jolt when your doorbell rings. a melodic knock follows. “open up, buttercup! i’m hereeeee,” nobara voice was muffled by the door but recognizable enough. you leap to your feet, nearly tripping on your way to throwing the door open. 

nobara takes one suspicious look at your shabbily-hidden nervousness and calls your bluff. “were you watching R-rated shit? because if so i can totally leave, no problem.” your voice squeaks in an ungodly high pitch, spluttering gibberish before you manage an “oh my god no, what the fuck!” she cackles at your reaction and slaps a hand on your shoulder, moving to enter the flat. “you’re so easy to mess with babe, i worry for you at times! really. i do.” 

her eyes catch the shiny box that lay open on the table. “is that xtique? they’re mad expensive, girl! you actually bought something from there?” “no!” you quickly burst, making nobara jump at the sudden denial. “i mean, no, it was a gift from my… father! for the internship.” you point to your feet and she gives an impressed hum. “they’re super sexy-looking. your dad has good taste.. weirdly enough.” you didn’t really know what to say to that without it seeming weird or ruining your last-minute lie, so you just chuckle and nod. 

you like chocolate, especially when it’s melty or gooey in something. you hate tomatoes. which is odd, because you’re okay with ketchup and marinara sauce, but anything with a tomato that the eye can see you don’t touch. you drink a lot of coffee after lectures. you love little cute trinkets, but don’t have that many. 

sukuna was learning about you; and applying the information as soon as he did. granted, you looked positively enraged every time you saw his notes. he also saw your face turn red, so he has to be doing something right. the way your lips quirk for a moment before the eventual frown and looking around for him was pretty adorable. whatever it was, sukuna’s plan was in motion and working as he wanted. the lengths he went for you were unheard of for the usual suitor, but sukuna was a crafty guy (when he wants to be). he tipped off the doordash guy that snuck into your lecture hall an extra twenty dollars in cash to be quiet and unnoticed by the professor. he somehow made friends with the girl at the coffee shop— said her name was christy? kristen? fuck if he knew, to be honest. he really just kept familiar with her so he could have her deliver pastries and coffee from him.  

“this bast– RYOMEN! the fuckin’ oil!” sukuna snaps out of his train of thought to see he was still at work, not in his daydreams. he never got into his thoughts like this, what…? whatever. it was about you, so he didn’t feel as bad. he cursed when he saw the oil pan was slightly away from under the plug, letting the oil spill all over the deck. “i swear to god ryo, you better clean that shit up before you clock out,” choso chided. his cousin-slash-coworker genuinely never caught a break with sukuna and his antics. one of the downsides of working at the shop the family owned, he assumed. but truly, choso was getting gray hairs from the amount of stress that man gave him. sukuna simply waved him off, discarding his rag that was now soaked in old oil. checking his watch, he realized he is close to his clock out time. in five minutes, he messily cleaned up the deck and made his exit, clicking his helmet on and driving out. at a stoplight, sukuna hears some giggling from the car next to him. he pans to see four girls with their windows down, now squealing because sukuna noticed them. one had her phone up, recording him? while another gestures as if asking for his phone number. sukuna scoffs out of irritation. really? he throws up his left hand which was gloved and gestures to his ring finger. they go silent and roll up their windows, embarrassed. a little lie to get them off his case was harmless, he didn’t care either way. technically, it was true he was “promised” to someone, that being you. eventually, he declares in his head. eventually. his head swivels to look at the buildings beside him instead of the cars while he waits for the light to flip. his eyes catch on shiny, ruby shoes in a display of a boutique-looking store. they looked awfully like the ones he saw at your apartment, and at the door the times you stayed over at yuuji’s. sukuna decides to detour and turns into the parking lot for the fancy shop. 

when he walks in he notes it’s rather small, his large frame mildly cramping the area. it was silent and empty, save for the soft jazz playing overhead. a small but peppy old woman bustles out of the back, heels clacking. she was wearing a fancy two piece suit in some kind of purple(it’s periwinkle, but would sukuna really know that?) 

she was about to greet him out of habit when a small “good heavens!” leaves her mouth, in sight of her new customer. she apologizes profusely for the sudden reaction while chuckling nervously. “you’re not our usual patron, you’ll have to forgive me for my outburst dearie!” she runs a manicured hand through her blowout hair, giving a warm smile to him. 

sukuna becomes a bit hyper-aware he was in an oil-stained wife pleaser and slacks, and his usual leather jacket. right. he just grunts and nods, looking around the store. pastel pink and gold adornments littered the walls, the smell of roses infiltrating his nose. all it was missing was you sitting in the middle of it all, honestly. this place was unironically your persona. 

he turns to the display, thumb pointed to the shoes he saw. “you got those in stock?” the lady perks up and immediately gets to work, buzzing around the store to grab boxes. “why of course! is this for a mother, sister? girlfriend, maybe?” sukuna simply nods. “girlfriend.” she giggles melodically, opening and closing boxes. “how sweet of you! she must be one special girl,” sukuna imagines you opening the box and wearing the shoes, your giddy excitement in private. he smiles faintly at the thought. “very.”

she finally finds the set of ruby shoes, and asks him for your size. he replies nearly instantly. he had seen your shoes so many times, the size was always written on the sole. so maybe he had it memorized, no big deal. numbers came easy to him anyways, he dealt with many of them in his studies and job. and maybe he had a section in his notes app for you. 

the old lady quickly wrapped up the shoes and stuffed black paper in the bag to hide the box. sukuna quickly pays, giving her a deep grumble of a thank you. she just smiles and waves him off. “i hope your girlfriend loves them!” as he leaves the shop she sighs with a bittersweet expression on her lips. she misses young love. 

as sukuna leaves the shiny boutique, he looks at the bag in his hand. was he doing too much? he hopes you would like it, and as far as he knows, you don’t own a pair of these in the red he picked. maybe it was selfish thinking that you would enjoy that same red hue you saw in his eyes, especially after that comment that lived in his subconscious. 

your eyes are sanguine red.

he grins to himself, walking a little faster to his bike.

nobara had stayed around for a couple of hours before she called it a night, saying something about how stupid she has to study for her exams when she’s a liberal arts student. you just chuckle and turn her loose. “you’re always welcome to ask me for help," you chide her. she scoffs and pushes you playfully. “no way. you’re like up to your ears in stuff, i couldn’t burden you. and anyways, you’re already helping yuuji and his two brain cells.” she waves you goodbye, and you head back up to your apartment once you see her get into her uber. 

you’re about to flop on your tiny couch when your phone rings. you groan internally when you see the caller id. 

“hello, father.” 

“you need to come home this weekend.” 

you frown. “i’m sorry?” 

“did you not hear me? you need to come home this weekend and help your brother with his entrance exams.” 

you’re in mild shock for a moment, making you go silent. surely he doesn’t think you have time to spend an entire weekend at home. you had so many things to juggle as it was, and your weekend was kind of your safe time. if something bled over from the week, you’d do it then, or hell, sometimes you just wanted to sit and watch a show or two. 

“..father, i’m not exactly free—“ 

“you’re lying. i know how many credit hours you’re doing and that internship of yours is the only extra activity in your time. seriously, when will you grow up? you have so many more duties to fulfill and you’re trying to get out of the simplest one.” 

you had such a difficult time reasoning with your father and it’s been this way since your childhood. he never saw what you wanted or what you accomplished. it was always “how can she benefit the family?” you let out a deep sigh. there was no getting out of this, you accept. 

“i’m sorry, father. i’ll be home on the weekend.” 

“good. your mother keeps asking about your health so don’t eat any rubbish.” 

you make a noise of agreement, but mentally you’re rearranging your tasks for the upcoming week to allocate time for the impromptu trip. he hangs up the phone without a goodbye, as usual. the dread you felt for the first eighteen years of your life settles back into your chest like an unwelcome old friend. you sink to the couch, rubbing your chest to ease the pain. you’re looking at the setting sun seeping in from the window, the light disappearing feeling awfully similar to your emotions right now.

it’ll be just another thing you’ll brave through, you suppose.

kento is washing beakers in the back of the lab room, but you know you felt his eyes on the back of your head. “yes, kento?” you say without turning around. he clears his throat to cover up the cough he let out of surprise. he did not think you would’ve noticed. “you just seem a little downtrodden today, is all.” you let out a sad laugh and walk over to help him dry the beakers. “well, you aren’t wrong, i guess,” you say absentmindedly. you woke up today with the same dread you felt earlier this week, which you had felt every day since the call until today— friday. the gloomy, rainy day didn’t help your mood either. 

“anything i can do to help, maybe?” you smile at your monotonous friend. you learned he was quite caring, but had a hard time mirroring it in his tone of voice. “actually, yeah. do you think you could cover the last hour for me? i’m going home for the weekend.” he nods, putting the last clean beaker in the crate. “no worries. i hope you enjoy your time at home.” you draw a heavy sigh. “i’ll try,” you manage with a deflected grin. 

you wave kento goodbye when you’re walking out the door of the lab, heaving your bags along with you. the rain hadn’t stopped by the time you were walking to your car, so you had to run to avoid drenching everything you had and yourself. 

the drive home was mostly silent, save for your playlist playing softly in the background of the car. the rain slows to a stop when you turn into your neighborhood, which makes you slightly annoyed. couldn’t it have stopped for you when you were getting a cold shower on the way to the car? once you pull up to your apartment complex, you notice something that immediately draws a groan from your lips. 

before you is a sleek black bike, and leaning on it was none other than the object of your irritation. his helmet sat on his seat and his pink hair was moussed by the rain, making it a more deep pink shade. his stupid grin churned your insides. turning the key off in the ignition, you step out of your car, walking towards him. 

you notice his fingers drumming on his seat. he seemed happy to see you? “forgot your umbrella?” he gestures to your head, and your face goes red. your hair was a little out of the ordinary after running through the rain. “shut the fuck up.” you quip dismissively, comb your fingers through your hair to try and fix it– but the moisture had already had its way with you. you give up with a huff. 

your eyes narrow at him. “are you stalking me?” you roll your eyes and cross your arms, clearly not in the mood to deal with sukuna’s games today. he protests with his hands up. “i’m no fuckin’ stalker, sweetheart. just came to drop off your jacket. yuuji said you left it at his place the other day.” you don’t remember leaving anything at yuuji’s, but lo and behold, sukuna takes a jacket out of his seat compartment that looks awfully like one of yours. you stiffly accept it and look away. 

“you free tonight?” your head snaps to meet his eyes and that stupid smirk shone back at you. you turn away to walk back to your car. “nope. sorry! i’m leaving right now,” you swiftly call back to him over your shoulder. because of your height difference, he catches up to you in three strides. 

he grabs your wrist, halting you before you reach the driver’s door handle. “hey, what’s the rush? you literally got back home,” he was right. you did have things to get from your apartment, but you were more annoyed with his ambush that you simply wanted to drive home to get away. 

“can’t you see i’m busy?” sukuna gives you a furrowed expression. “with what?” his gruff tonality replaces the playful one he had before.

you were literally at your breaking point, couldn’t he bother you another day? you yank your hand away from his grip. you give him an icy glare, unwilling to answer him. he takes your pause to maneuver around you and stand in front of the door, blocking you from entering the car. his sharp eyes zeroed in on the tension you’re trying so hard to hide. 

“what’s your problem?” he asks sternly, his voice pressing against you. you clench your jaw, refusing to speak up. you hope he’ll just let it go. 

but he doesn’t. 

he’s still watching you, studying the ticks of your expression, searching. 

“come on,” he pushes, his voice quieter but unrelenting. “what’s really going on with you?” 

why the fuck was sukuna always around you when you were doing horrible? it was so damn irritating. you take a breath, more shaky than you wanted to show him. 

he didn’t miss it. 

you’re fighting back the anxiety and frustration that’s about to spill tears. 

“i’m.. it’s nothing, i just need to go home,” your stomach is turning knots. you hate the face he’s giving you. it’s digging at you, and sukuna isn’t one to back away from confrontation. 

his gaze sharpens, his eyes flickering with something you can’t read. “you mean your family home? like with your dad?” 

he only heard one phone call with your father, for fuck’s sake. you almost felt angry he thought he knew exactly what was going on. your heartbeat was in your ears at this point. “what’s so urgent that you’re fuckin’ running away all stressed?” 

your fists tighten at your sides, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. you felt like the muddy asphalt was swallowing you. you didn’t realize you were crying until a tear slid down your cheek. the words followed behind like a tsunami. 

“you think i want to go home?! i get told something and he just expects me to do it with no questions! i don’t even.. i don’t even have time to do this, but he—”

your voice gets caught in a muffle. sukuna had wrapped you in his leather-clad arms, your face smushed in his chest. he smelled like smoke and gasoline, which was weirdly comforting. 

“just.. cry it out.” he mutters. 

his hand is stroking your hair softly, like you were a small child to be consoled. you didn’t care to protest his sudden actions. your fists grip his tank top as you sobbed into him. you don’t know how long you both stood like this, but you could’ve sworn at one point that he was shushing you like a baby, which was again— weirdly comforting. 

when you tilt your head up, eyes red and puffy, sukuna slips a chuckle. you slap his chest, offended. 

“your first reaction is to laugh at my misery, asshole?” 

“your eyes are swollen, sweetheart.” 

you curse and press the cold backside of your hands under your eyes, hoping to reduce the inflammation. you’re both in silence for a couple of moments, him just watching you while you pretended to not notice the holes he was burning into your head. 

he finally spoke up with a hand tapping your cheek. “c’mon, let’s go somewhere.” 

you give him a gaping shocked face. ‘i’m sorry, did you not just see me have a breakdown about needing to go home?” 

he rolls his eyes as if you were acting immature. god, now you know how yuuji must’ve felt growing up. sukuna was definitely as sassy as he was now. “that’s exactly why i’m saying that, idiot. you can go home first thing tomorrow morning.” 

you open your mouth to argue again, but the looming dread you had of facing your father tonight still makes your stomach sink. a night to take your mind off of the stress you’ve been bottling for days.. yeah, that sounds like exactly what you need. you hesitate, glancing up at sukuna’s face, searching for any hint of pity, but all you see is that stubborn determination he had. 

“fine,” you murmur, wiping your hands on your jeans. “but if this is some dumb excuse to make me do whatever you want…” he gives you a sly smirk, visibly amused again. “when have i ever needed an excuse for that?” you smack him again while he walks you over to his bike. 

he grabs the helmet from his bike and hands it to you, nudging you with his shoulder. “just one night, sweetheart. then you can go back and deal with… everything else.” 

you take the helmet and sigh, feeling the dread slowly lift from your chest as you click it on your head. after he climbs on the bike, he stretches a hand out to help you on which you take gratefully. he glances back at you with a soft smile you hadn’t seen since that night you bandaged his hands. 

he feels like a lifeline right now, albeit you didn’t want to admit that. you just needed an escape. 

you nearly scream when sukuna pulls into the “small spot” he said he knew. 

it was a traditional kaiseki house, one that screamed rich and elite. you were wearing casual clothes and your makeup had pretty much melted away after your cry session (you noticed that your mascara had also bled onto sukuna’s white tank top, so you scolded him until he zipped up his leather jacket with a grumble.) 

“you should’ve fucking told me we were going to a nice place, i could’ve gotten ready or something!” sukuna looked practically oblivious. “why?” he deadpans. you fight the urge to facepalm yourself and settle for an eye twitch. “sukuna, look at me.” you gesture to your face and clothes. he’s seriously aloof, giving you a monotone stare. “yeah, i’m looking. you look pretty, why?” oh. there’s nothing you can find to say to that because you genuinely didn’t see an ounce of deceit in his expression. he genuinely believed in what he said, it seems. you process the fact he called you pretty once you’re off the bike, which makes you a little bashful.

regardless, you tried to prim yourself before you stepped inside; praying no one paid attention to you and your unlikely date. that was obviously wishful thinking considering how big of a powerhouse sukuna looked inside the small joint, which made you curse him out mentally. does he eat entire horses? however, the server looked at sukuna with respect you didn’t expect, and sukuna talked to him with ease. you couldn’t believe the sight before your eyes; he was acting like a socialite with insanely proper manners. 

the server led you both to a private dining room, bowing as he closed the door behind you. you unbuckle the ruby shoes you were wearing, ironically the shoes sukuna had gifted you the week before. you hope he didn’t notice. 

sukuna takes the seat opposite you, sitting rather poised and formal. you giggle at him, breaking the royal silence you were in. he frowns at you, miffed.

“what?” 

“you’re like, trust fund boy sukuna right now. you look so serious i thought it was funny,” you explain. 

he grumbles and crosses his arms. “my grandfather… is big on etiquette.” he manages. 

you expect him to iterate further. “…aaaand?” you had sat down, resting your head on your hands, batting your lashes mockingly. 

his frown deepens at your antics. “grandpa owns a lot of businesses, so when me and yuu were young... he made us come to formal dinners. parties and shit. if we acted like fuckin’ animals, we’d get our asses beat.” you giggle at the thought of little sukuna causing a ruckus. 

“i bet you were a handful.” you tease. 

“more like yuu was. unmedicated adhd in a boy is hell.” you agree with a nod. you felt kind of warm inside knowing something new about sukuna. yuuji had told you in the past that they were well-endowed, but these details were cute and… endearing to you. 

“you like them?” you snap out of your thoughts to see sukuna gesturing to your gifted shoes, sitting by the door next to his boots. a small blush dusts your cheeks. “it’s just a fluke… i was rushing this morning and they were the first pair i saw,” your excuse was perpetually lame. 

he nods slowly, amused. “…right, of course.” he lays sarcastically. 

you were about to say something else awkward when the door slid open, bringing the first course along with a round of sake. you both say your respects to the food before digging in politely. the food definitely tasted as expensive as it looked. 

you realize you’ve actually never had a meal with sukuna before. you take note of how proper he eats, which was kind of a surprise for you (again). you guess you could believe him now when he said yuu was worse off than him— that boy definitely ate like a man starved. 

when you finish your last piece, you take a sip of the sake the server had poured out for you. it was much smoother and sweeter than the ones you’ve had. honestly, a little worrying considering how much of a lightweight you were. you decide that’s a dangerous game and settle with nursing the small glass you had. 

“how’s college been, then?” this fucking… you didn’t expect sukuna to do small talk, but here you were. “um, it’s good. a little tedious lately, but i guess i can’t complain,” you chuckle softly. “that kid kento’s in your internship, yeah?” the way he just knew random things adjacent to you was a little scary. “yeah, how do you know that?” “he’s a family friend.” thank god. you were beginning to think sukuna had a private investigator on you or something. “o-oh, how interesting. so you’ve known him for a while?” “his father has been partners with my grandpa since we were young, so yeah.” you simply nod in acknowledgment, unsure of how to continue. this was awkward territory to speak so casually and non-hostile with the man before you.  

“you look like you’re being tortured to speak to me right now.”

you snap to sit more straight and less avoidant, feeling embarrassed he clocked your temperament. “sorry, i’ve not exactly had any real conversations with you,” he looks unphased. “you’re too busy trying to fight me for that.” you give him a frown. “well you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself, asshole.” he simply chuckles and takes another sip of sake. he manages to look elegant despite the fact he’s dressed like a thug. “you’re easy to rile up, sweetheart.” 

you look at him incredulously. “you’ve got to be a sadist or something,” you exclaim with a small scoff. he hums. “not the word i’d use, but if it’s easier for you… sure, i’m a sadist for you.” “for me?” “i don’t mess with anyone else, if you’ve noticed.” you’re mildly confused, given that you know his track record, but you digress. you give him an unimpressed look. 

“…right.” 

he gives you a look back. “fuck you mean by that?” 

“oh c’mon, just because i met you recently doesn’t mean i didn’t know of you before that.” 

his weird look deepens. “oh? and what did you know of me, sweetheart?” he’s absolutely egging you on, but not in a way that’s teasing. he truly wants to understand what preconceived notions you have of him, almost like it was making him upset. 

“i mean… you’re a frat boy, sukuna. you get girls. you party. that earns a reputation, at minimum.” 

he looked a little hurt by your words, but he doesn’t let it stay long enough for you to notice. “tell me this, sweetheart. are you an introvert that only studies all day?” you stiffen. “…no, i’m not an introvert. and i like doing other things too,” “you liked it when i passed judgment on you being nothing but a booksmart nerd the first day i met you?” you shake your head slowly. “then you’re beating your fuckin’ stereotype. just like how i’m not the fuckin’ stereotype others say about me. understood?” 

you start to feel bad that you threw the same callous mindset he’s probably faced before, which was super out of character for you. you were an open minded and intuitive person. “i’m sorry, sukuna. i guess i’m just… having trouble understanding some things.” 

he raises an eyebrow. “like what?” 

“…well,” you take a sip of your sake to give yourself time to recollect. “i guess i want to know why you’ve been gifting me so much these last few weeks.” 

he visibly lightens up, slipping back into his playful demeanor. he purposefully takes a comically long sip of sake, causing you to laugh and smack him across the table, chiding him. “oh my god, stop! you suck, really,” 

he glances at you from the side of his eyes. “i just wanted to.” 

you look into his eyes, searching his gaze. a small smirk plays on your lips. a jolt of confidence hits you as you lean over the table on your elbows. “you got a crush on me, itadori?” 

he matches your energy tenfold, leaning towards you in tandem. you’re almost nose to nose. “inconclusive, sweetheart.”  

you sit back down with a small blush. “you’re not getting compensated for them, by the way.” 

he snorts, a deep chuckle following. “i never expected you to. they’re gifts, sweetheart. and i sure as hell know that little internship of yours pays in pennies.” 

you give him a withering look of irritation. “i get paid in experience, sukuna.” “that’s straight bullshit they tell you, you know that? you realize i graduate this year? already seen the way internships pan out,” true. “potayto potahto, dude.” 

his brows upturn out of amusement. you opt to change the subject from you. 

“you’re a mechanical engineering major, right?” you ask, tilting your head curiously. he just nods, his face giving nothing away. “how’s that, then? fun?”

he fixes you with a dry, almost exasperated stare. his eyes narrow slightly, eyebrows upturned just enough to convey that he’s calling your bluff. “is that a real question,” he drawls, “or are you seriously asking me about my major?”

you clench your jaw, resisting the urge to sock him in the shoulder. instead, you force yourself to keep smiling. “you nearly made me want to explode with your small talk, so just answer the damn question.”

a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, and he snorts. “if i told you i find this fun, there’s probably somethin’ wrong with me.”

you roll your eyes and mutter under your breath, “there’s definitely a lot wrong with you, but whatever.”

he raises a brow, leaning in just a bit too close for comfort. “hm? say that louder for me, sweetheart?”

you feel heat rise to your cheeks as your lips slip into an involuntary pout. you hate how you can’t control your expressions around him—it’s like your face has a mind of its own. you avert your gaze and take a long sip of your drink, feigning nonchalance. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, the sake warming you from the inside out as you mimicked his usual unbothered attitude.

without warning, he stretches out his hand and flicks you on the forehead, a light but annoyingly precise tap. “idiot.” he mutters, sounding amused.

you groan, rubbing the spot where he flicked you. “when will you stop calling me that?” you whine, exasperated.

his laugh is low and unapologetic and his eyes twinkling with something irritatingly fond. “when you stop doin’ stupid shit. cute, stupid shit.”

somehow that pulls a genuine laugh out of you. you catch yourself mid-giggle, feeling suddenly self-conscious as sukuna’s gaze softens, just barely, his lips twitching into a smile. he’s watching you with this odd.. elated expression, like he’s seeing something new in you. you quickly clear your throat and try to regain composure, but the grin on your face lingers.

“what?” you ask, embarrassed, still smiling despite yourself.

he shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, but the faint trace of a smile remains. “nothing. just didn’t think i’d ever hear you laugh like that.”

a warm blush creeps up your neck, and you look down, fidgeting with the chopsticks. “i do laugh, you know,” you murmur, trying to act casual.

for a moment, he just looks at you, his gaze unguarded in a way that makes your heart skip. the silence stretches between you, not tense but charged, like something’s shifting that neither of you can quite name. he tilts his head slightly, studying your face as though he’s trying to memorize every detail. 

the rest of your meal with him was filled with this unspoken, almost serene connection that neither of you quite acknowledged, but both felt. the conversation felt more natural and genuine, you couldn’t stop talking it seemed. you found yourself stealing glances at him more often than you meant to, feeling a strange warmth in your chest each time your eyes met. there was an ease to the way you sat together, as if the world outside had faded away, leaving only the two of you in this strange little bubble.

not before long, you both had finished your food with much satisfaction. This is definitely one of the best meals you’ve ever had. when the bill comes, you half expect sukuna to pull out a credit card but instead, he glances at the check just a moment before he pays with a bundle of crisp bills from his wallet. god, that was unnecessarily hot.

"let’s go," he says, standing up. he waits for you to put on your shoes before offering his hand as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you take it, the touch warm and solid. he’s particular about the way he holds your hand– not too tight, not too soft. that makes your heart skip a beat. not to mention your hand is small in comparison to his, but a weirdly perfect match. like a peg sliding into a notch. 

as you walk out of the restaurant, you feel the cool night air hit you, a refreshing contrast to the warmth inside. sukuna’s hand still holds yours, his thumb lightly grazing your knuckles as you both make your way to the street.

that’s when you spot it—an unassuming little ice cream stand on the corner, the twinkling of the fairy lights on its canopy making you grin up at him.

you tug on his hand, pulling him toward the stand before he can even say anything. "ice cream." you say with a mischievous smile, not even giving him a chance to protest. "you are legally not allowed to say no."

sukuna gives you a feigned look of annoyance at you but doesn’t pull away. “you’re insatiable,” he tells you, but there’s no real irritation in his tone—just the faintest hint of beguilement. you don’t miss the way his grip on your hand tightens, just a little, when you pull him toward the stand.

the vendor behind the counter greets you both with a toothy smile, and you instantly scan the flavors, your eyes lighting up as you point to one that catches your attention. "i’ll have the matcha," you say, already thinking about how good it’s going to taste.

sukuna gives you a side glance before ordering the most basic thing he could’ve chosen—vanilla. you can’t help but notice the contrast between his choice and yours, and it makes you giggle.

“you and giggling today, i swear,” he teases. you take the cone from the vendor’s hand with a small thank-you, sticking your tongue out at sukuna before giving your cone a lick. sukuna takes his cone shortly after, paying the man. 

walking together, hand in hand, the quiet sounds of the city hum around you. it’s almost too perfect, the way he towers beside you, both of you savoring your cones. despite the fall night being cool, soon your ice cream starts to drip and melt faster than you can eat it. you try to keep up but it’s a losing battle as your hands get sticky and little droplets threaten to trail down your fingers.

out of the corner of your eye, you catch sukuna stifling a snort, his shoulders shaking slightly as he reaches into his back pocket to pull out a crumpled handful of napkins. he must have grabbed them at the stand, almost as if he anticipated this exact moment.

“somehow i knew you’d end up eating like a messy kid,” he teases, his voice tinged more tender than you’re used to. before you can reply, he steps closer, raising the napkin to your face with a gentle hand, his fingers brushing your cheek as he dabs at the melting ice cream on your lips and chin. his touch is careful and surprisingly soft, as if he’s handling something delicate.

“thank you,” you murmur, the words almost a whisper as you meet his eyes. they’re closer than you expected, and you catch your breath as he holds your gaze, just a fraction too long. you look away, the heat of his hand lingering on your cheek, and take another bite of your cone, trying to steady the flutter in your chest.

when you finish, you make your way back toward his motorcycle parked beneath a flickering streetlight. its chrome metal was gleaming in the muted glow. you lean against the seat as he stands in front of you, hand on the seat space beside where you were situated. this definitely feels like a date now, you thought. 

his presence was grounding you in a way that felt both comforting and thrilling. he eats the last bite of his cone before wiping his own hands clean, then tossing the dirty napkins in the bin behind him. “can i ask one more question?” you look at him with a small smile. “sure, sukuna.” 

his hand that was now free of the ice cream cone instinctively goes to your other hip, not out of flirtation, but simply closer proximity. you were in the space between his legs, but it wasn’t awkward. it was just intimate.

“why’d your dad ask you to come home?” you let out a small sigh, brushing your hair out of your face to no avail as the wind pushes in your face again. you look a little solemn as you speak. “he wants me to help my brother with entrance exams for secondary school. i’m really just doing the work of a tutor, which i can’t imagine my father couldn’t afford, especially in terms of my brother.. but, i have duties that are unspoken, i guess. that i’m just expected to follow through. my tuition for university is paid by him, so i can’t exactly ghost my family. and my mom is still great with me, so.. i don’t want to lose her too,” you admit. 

when you finish you realize sukuna’s been rubbing circles on your side, deep in listening to you. “i know family’s tough,” he replies. “but you need to realize when it’s starting to screw you up. i’m sure if i didn’t come to your place, you’d still be burying yourself under all that fuckin’ expectation and you’d be burnt out by the morning.” you nod, the weight of his words settling in, and for a moment, you’re grateful for the honesty he’s bringing out of you. it’s strange, this feeling of openness with him, like he’s peeling back the layers you keep hidden from most people.

“maybe,” you mutter, looking down at your hands, which are still a bit sticky from the ice cream. “but it’s hard, you know? i feel guilty when i consider putting myself first, like it’s selfish or something.”

you hear sukuna inhale deeply, still focused on you. “selfish? putting yourself first is sometimes the best damn thing you can do. you’ve got one life, sweetheart.” he pauses, the weight of his gaze meeting yours. “if you don’t set those boundaries, no fucker’s gonna do it for you.”

his hand brushes a stray hair off your cheek that had been in your face for a while now, and your heart skips as his thumb lingers there. he leans in just a little, enough that his face is close, his gaze holding yours in a way that makes the rest of the world blur.

you swallow, feeling a warmth rising in your chest, a feeling that’s unfamiliar to you. “thanks. i guess i needed to hear that,” you whisper, genuinely touched.

he tilts his head slightly, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, though there’s something softer behind his eyes. “anytime, sweetheart.” 

without thinking, you shift your hand up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

he raises a brow, an amused but warm expression lighting up his face. “tryin’ to feel me up now?” he chuckles, but his voice is softer than usual.

you laugh, rolling your eyes, but you don’t move your hand. “shut up,” you murmur, your fingers tracing idle circles on his shirt as you both stay there, close and comfortably silent. the connection between you was enough. sukuna’s hand shifts to gently cup the side of your face, tilting you to see him. you really see him. his thumb grazing your cheek, his gaze flickering to your lips and then back to your eyes. you feel like the world has stopped around you two. you feel the subtle pull of his fingers on your skin. your heart beat is pounding out of your chest, and you feel his racing through his jacket too. in that instant, everything feels inevitable.

the harsh honk of a car horn cuts through the air, dragging you out of the moment with a jolt. you blink as the abrupt return to reality makes your breath catch in your throat. you pull away instinctively, breaking the bubble you were in. the realization of what was about to happen makes you nervous and almost scared. suddenly, you felt suffocated again. you shift, fumbling your fingers with your head down. 

sukuna stands still, silent. his hand that was almost ready to pull you in rested at his side now. his expression was rather blank, but different about the way he’s watching you. it’s quieter, more reserved, like he's waiting for you to say something—anything—to bridge the gap that’s formed between you. his jaw tightens slightly, just a hint of frustration, but he says nothing. he doesn’t rush to fill the silence. his silence is weighty, deliberate, and you feel the intensity of it even more because of it.

you glance at him quickly, and for a split second, you wonder what’s going through his mind. he doesn’t look at you with expectation but with that unreadable intensity that seems to pierce straight through you. you swallow, breaking the silence first. “sorry,” you manage, the words coming out squeakier than you intended, the awkwardness making you want to jump off a bridge. god, strike me down now or so help me.

“don’t apologize,” he rasps, his voice low, rougher than before. it’s not a demand, more like a quiet statement of fact. “you didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

his words hang in the air, steady and unyielding. it’s not comforting in the traditional sense, but it’s there—uncompromising, like he’s just being real with you. there’s no pushing or attempting to rush things. he’s waiting for you to say what you need to say, or to fall silent again. like whatever you do, he’s not going anywhere.

you instead opt to pivot like you usually do, and turn to get on the bike. you check your phone and give a fake little chuckle. “it’s getting so late, wow! we should head out. yeah?” sukuna realized you were definitely feeling weird about the moment you just had, so he wasn’t going to make it ruin the night you both had enjoyed so far. he only nods. “lemme take you to your place.” 

the ride was weirdly quiet, even though you never spoke on the bike anyways. it was too loud over the roar of vehicles on the road. when sukuna turns into your street, you feel a wave of nervous energy pulse through you again. 

the bike slows as he pulls up to the curb in front of your building, the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. sukuna parks, but doesn’t make a move to dismount right away. he keeps his hands on the handles, his body still. it’s as if he’s waiting for you to move first. 

you shift off the motorcycle and walk to his side. you don’t give yourself the chance to second-guess it. sukuna looks like he’s about to say something when you press a soft kiss to his cheek, fleeting and sudden, just enough to catch him off guard. for the first time ever, you saw sukuna blush. before he can say anything, you step back already turning on your heel to run briskly towards the entrance of your building, heart hammering against your ribs.

“goodnight!” you call over your shoulder, your voice filled with the adrenaline rush you were feeling. you don’t wait for him to respond as you push open the door and slip inside quickly. the cool air of the building is a sharp contrast to the warmth that still lingers on your lips. You press your fingers on your lips, feeling your heartbeat even in your fingertips. you seriously don’t know what you were thinking… tonight’s feelings are swirling around you as you make your way up the stairs to your apartment.

sukuna was sitting for five minutes on his bike in front of your apartment, brain flatlining. he was going to kiss you. he was so close to your lips. he thought that chance encounter was the most he was going to get tonight when you decided to do that and have the gall to run away. 

he didn’t wash his face that night.

a figure with shoddy blonde hair puts out his cigarette stub on the wall, exhaling the last drag he had. the rooftop was empty, save for his friend. mahito sucks his teeth and throws the bottle of beer he was drinking on the ground, the shatter echoing in the dark night. 

“fuck, man! what are we going to do about that motherfucker?” he seethes, face red from his drunken rage. 

naoya chuckles at his lack of control. he didn’t seem as pissed about the whole ordeal, especially not as much as mahito. the fraternity wasn’t everything to him. and he knew good things come to those who are patient. 

“don’t think about him. we need to focus on the bitch that curved you,” naoya tells him coolly. 

mahito nods slowly, raring up with hype. “yeah… yeah! that ugly whore that got me jumped!” naoya just stares out at the buildings below, unbothered. 

“she’ll pay, mahito. just wait.”

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