you run your fingers through sukuna’s soft pink locks, gently ruffling them as he melts further into your hold with every passing second. his arm stays snug around you while the two of you lie tangled on your couch, lazily watching reels from his phone.

that’s when you see it.

“sukuna.”

“hm?” he nudges you lightly when you go quiet, shifting just enough to glance up at you. “what’s up?”

“y-you…” you hesitate, fingers brushing through his hair again. this time a little more focused. “you have a grey hair!” you point at it, eyes wide.

he lets out a quiet huff. “so what?”

“wait— wait! there’s more!” your fingers keep searching, and he groans, tossing his phone aside.

“you done? it’s just a few grey strands. what’s the big deal?”

your expression crumples, nose scrunching in that way he knows too well… cute, but dangerous. his hand comes up instinctively, cupping your cheek.

“what are you crying about now, brat?” the “insult” doesn’t stick, it never did even from the moment he met you.

you don’t answer, just sniffle quietly, and he sighs under his breath before shifting. he maneuvers you down beside him on the too-small couch, half his body hanging off the edge, but he doesn’t care. his arms wrap around you, warm and steady.

“love,” he murmurs, voice low and gentle, “you gonna tell me why you’re crying, hm?” his thumbs brush the tears under your eyes.

you sniffle again. “it’s just that… it means you’re getting old…”

he huffs out a quiet laugh. “you worried i won’t be as handsome?”

you lightly swat his arm. “never! i’ll just have more competition…” you mumble, embarrassed, and he chuckles into your hair.

“i’m flattered you’re crying over me getting older.”

“when i get a grey, will you cry?” you pout, and his eyes flicker down.

“yes.” he answers without missing a beat.

“is it because i’ll be ugly—”

he bites lightly at the junction of your neck.

“ow— ow! it was a joke!”

he presses a soft kiss over the spot right after, lingering there as he buries his face into your neck. “no. i won’t cry because of that.”

“then what for?”

you feel the warm puff of his breath against your skin as he pulls you closer, arms tightening just a little.

“it’ll just means my dream is coming true…”

he lifts his head, looking at you with so much quiet adoration it makes your chest ache. his eyes soften, almost glassy, like he might cry if he let himself.

“i’ll grow old with you.”

“i hate how lovey-dovey your disgusting boyfriend gets when he spots you in a crowd.” shoko huffed, exhaling a thin stream of smoke as her lips curled in mild disgust.

“what do you mean?” you asked.

“well,” she shrugged, tapping ash off lazily, “he walks around with this whole terrifying aura like he’s seconds away from ripping someone apart just for breathing wrong. the kind of look that screams ‘i’ll cut your arm off if you meet my gaze.’”

she glanced at you sideways, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“but the second he finds you?” she added, voice dropping with amusement, “it’s like a switch flips.”

shoko’s words lingered in your mind for days after that conversation, replaying over and over.

so when you and sukuna made plans to go to the cinema (and for once, he didn’t argue or override your choice of movie) you found yourself thinking about it again.

you stood in the crowded lobby, surrounded by a restless sea of people waiting for the theater doors to open. the air buzzed with chatter, the scent of popcorn thick and buttery, lights reflecting off polished floors. yet none of it held your attention. your eyes stayed locked on the entrance, anticipating the moment a certain tall, pink-haired menace would stroll in like he owned the place.

your heart picked up just a little, curiosity bubbling under your skin.

and soon enough, a familiar tuft of pink hair slipped into your vision, and your breath caught just a little as you focused on him.

the moment he stepped inside, his eyes immediately began searching, sharp and restless. a small frown sat on his face, brows drawn together in concentration, hands tucked into his pockets as he turned his head, scanning the crowd like nothing else in the room mattered.

someone bumped into him on the way, a girl mumbling a rushed apology but he didn’t even react. not a glance, not a pause. she lingered for a second, clearly taken aback at his looks before walking off.

his gaze really did scream “i’ll cut your arm off if you meet my gaze.”

he moved further in, slow and deliberate, eyes still sweeping over every face until they passed over you. paused. and then snapped back.

for a brief second, he just stared, like his mind needed that extra moment to catch up that it was you.

you watched it happen right in front of you: the shift.

his steps faltered slightly, shoulders easing as if some invisible weight had slipped off them. the tension that clung to him softened, just a little, just enough to notice. a quiet exhale leaving him, almost relieved.

and even though his brows were still faintly furrowed there was something warmer there now. something softer.

something that was only ever meant for you.

“there you are,” you murmured, a soft, almost giddy smile tugging at your lips now that you’d seen it for yourself. your fingers curled lightly around his sleeve. “was looking for you.”

“were you?” he hummed, voice low, like he didn’t quite believe you. he dipped his head just enough to press a brief kiss to your hair, lingering for half a second longer than necessary before his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you flush against his side. “could’ve fooled me.”

“mm,” you glanced up at him, smile turning a little smug, “maybe not as much as you were looking for me.”

your hand slid into the back pocket of his jeans, giving a small, teasing squeeze. “you looked ready to fight someone.”

he clicked his tongue, eyes flicking down at you with a warning look that didn’t quite land, not when his grip on your waist tightened just slightly.

“watch it,” he muttered, though there was no real bite behind it. still, he didn’t move your hand away as he guiding you toward the snack counter, keeping you tucked close to his side like it was instinct. “get whatever you want for the film.”

he pulled out his credit card without a second thought, barely glancing at the menu. “consider it compensation for making me sit through your pick.” the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“you literally agreed,” you pointed out, nudging him with your shoulder.

“yeah,” he scoffed lightly, eyes softening when they landed on you again, "because it’s you.”

"maybe i'm the problem?"

"huh?" sukuna unsticks his nose from his notes as he glances at you from across the table with a faint scowl.

the café around you is warm and alive with quiet afternoon noise. espresso machines hissing, cups clinking softly against saucers, low conversations blending into a gentle hum. the smell of roasted coffee and caramel syrup hangs in the air, sweet and comforting, wrapping around the little corner table you and sukuna claimed hours ago. sunlight filters through the tall windows beside you, spilling across the wooden tabletop where your notebooks, pens, and half-highlighted lecture slides are spread out in a messy fan.

you take a slow sip of your coffee while he waits for you to continue your ramble.

"i'm like, in college and i'm yet to experience some sort of… actually any type of romance." you swirl your straw absentmindedly in the iced drink. "like everybody in my teenage years, heck, even younger, either received a shy letter on valentines day or somebody proclaimed their love in a romantic way on a date."

sukuna’s scowl deepens slightly, though whether it's from concentration or your topic is hard to tell. he leans back in his chair, stretching one arm over the backrest while his other hand reaches for his drink.

"there's the funny rumors of people having crushes on a person and it turns into something sweet. for me? it was always in a way people would, like… fuck with me."

for a moment the only sound between you two is the quiet slurp of sukuna pulling from the straw of his strawberry milkshake, the bright pink drink ridiculously cheerful compared to the permanent unimpressed look on his face.

"am i the problem?" you finally ask, voice quieter now as you reach for your pen, "am i genuinely just not likable looks or personality wise? or both?!"

sukuna exhales slowly through his nose.

for a split second he almost looks relieved, like he’d been bracing himself for a completely different kind of conversation. he shrugs, taking another long sip of his milkshake "maybe.”

your fists slowly tighten around your pen like you're contemplating whether stabbing him with it would be socially acceptable in a public café. "you. are. such. a. dick."

sukuna snorts under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching upward just slightly as he sets the milkshake back down. "i'm joking…"

he turns back to his notes flipping his pen between his fingers. "i don't think you are the problem…" he pauses, pen hovering for a moment before he scribbles something down in the margins. "maybeee somebody has been flirting with you for a while and you just haven't realized it."

"as if." you cross your arms over your chest immediately, scoffing. ‘i would have noticed."

sukuna stills.

his pen stops moving entirely. slowly, he lifts his head. his nose scrunches in that irritated yet annoyingly adorable way he does whenever you say something so unbelievably stupid it physically pains him. He arches one brow.

you stare at him, "what?"

he looks at you for another long second, expression flat. then he turns back to his notes again with a quiet sigh. "nothing."

you, however, are nowhere near done. leaning forward again as your pen starts tapping the edge of his notebook.

and the more you talk, the more sukuna feels his braincells quietly evaporating.

"it's just—" you begin again, waving one hand vaguely in the air. "i would like it if somebody was straightforward with me, you know?" sukuna's pen scratches across the paper a little harder. "like if he came up to me and just bluntly told me: i like you! and i want to take you on a date!”

there's a sharp clack. sukuna drops his pen harshly against the table as he looks up at you with the most deadpan expression you've ever seen.

"i like you and want to take you on a date," he says flatly. "even though we have went on multiple dates you just haven't realized it."

you beam instantly, like a light switched on inside your face. "yeah!" you nod enthusiastically. "something like that!"

sukuna’s eye twitches. "are you fucking stupid?"

"huh?" you blink.

for a moment sukuna just stares at you across the table, like he’s genuinely trying to figure out whether you’re messing with him or if this level of obliviousness is real. then, with a long exhale through his nose, he gestures broadly around the table as if presenting a collection of very obvious evidence.

his notebooks and textbooks are scattered everywhere, pages filled with his sharp, aggressive handwriting, but between the notes are your doodles. little hearts drawn lazily in the margins, tiny stars, a stupid cartoon of him with horns and the word menace written beside it. he always grumbles when you draw in his things, always mutters something about how annoying it is. and yet he’s never erased a single one.

then there’s the milkshake sitting between you both, the obnoxiously pink strawberry drink slowly melting while water droplets slides down the glass. two straws stick out of it.

as if that wasn’t already enough, underneath the table your legs are comfortably tangled together, your knee pressed against his like it has been for the last hour without either of you acknowledging it.

sukuna points at everything in one sweeping motion before his patience finally snaps. "I LIKE YOU, YOU IDIOT!"

his voice comes out louder than he meant it to, echoing slightly in the cozy café space. A couple of nearby students glance over briefly before returning to their laptops, pretending they didn’t hear anything.

you just blink again. your brain feels like it’s slowly short-circuiting as you try to process the words. "wha—?"

"I HAVE BEEN FLIRTING FOR MONTHS DUMBASS. I THOUGHT—"

you scrunch your face up immediately at the sudden volume of his voice.

"THAT—" the realization hits him and he abruptly stops, dragging a hand down his face before taking a steadying breath. he clears his throat. "ahem. sorry." the scowl on his face doesn’t soften, but when he speaks again his tone drops several levels, far more controlled even if the irritation is still very much present. "I just thought you wanted to take it super duper slow, so i waited and gave signals."

you stare at him, still trying to piece together everything he just said. "really?"

sukuna closes his eyes for a second and pinches the bridge of his nose, his fingers brushing against the cool metal of his nose bridge piercing as he rubs it slowly like he’s fighting off a headache. his shoulders sag just a little. "lord, give me strength."

you lean over the table, cheeks slowly turning pink. "when did you give me signals?!"

"uH, WeLL, I don’t KNOW!… maybe when you had those awful cramps and i told you to stay over at my place? you were curled up on my bed, whining like a tiny, pathetic kitten, and i held you all night, kissing the top of your head while rubbing your back until you fell asleep?!”

"uh— wha? i just thought…" you shrug, cheeks still warm. "i mean… you were just… trying to help me feel better, right?"

sukuna blinks at you like he’s about to explode. "what? no! then what the hell did you think that time you suddenly decided you had to have a pomegranate at midnight? i went out to the market just to get it, came back, and ended up cleaning the entire damn thing. I still have the stains on my table!”

you bury your face in your hands, groaning. "i… i felt so bad afterward! you kept grumbling the entire time about how annoying i was… i didn’t think you’d actually go and get it!”

sukuna runs a hand through his hair, his crimson strands falling into his eyes before he yanks them back in exasperation. “how do you even manage to think of it like that?!”

your cheeks flare red, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. "i… i guess i’ve felt so unloved that i shut down the possibility of anyone… liking me… for the rest of my life."

sukuna’s scowl deepens, "you’re telling me i’ve been acting like some damn wife to you and you didn’t realize shit?"

you shake your head, barely able to meet his gaze.

he throws his head back and laughs, a low, throaty sound that’s equal parts exasperation and amusement, "for fuck’s sake, woman…" he mutters, and then softer, more fondly, "you will be the death of me."

your voice comes out barely audible, trembling just slightly, but it’s enough to pull every ounce of his attention toward you. (as if it was ever directed somewhere else but you) "are you… still… up for that date?"

he leans closer, grin spreading across his face like he’s been waiting for this moment. "millions of them," his tattooed arm snakes across the table, and he pinches your reddened cheeks, smirking like a predator who finally caught its prey. "but ones that you actually notice the intentions of, dumbass."

you run your fingers through sukuna’s soft pink locks, gently ruffling them as he melts further into your hold with every passing second. his arm stays snug around you while the two of you lie tangled on your couch, lazily watching reels from his phone.

that’s when you see it.

“sukuna.”

“hm?” he nudges you lightly when you go quiet, shifting just enough to glance up at you. “what’s up?”

“y-you…” you hesitate, fingers brushing through his hair again. this time a little more focused. “you have a grey hair!” you point at it, eyes wide.

he lets out a quiet huff. “so what?”

“wait— wait! there’s more!” your fingers keep searching, and he groans, tossing his phone aside.

“you done? it’s just a few grey strands. what’s the big deal?”

your expression crumples, nose scrunching in that way he knows too well… cute, but dangerous. his hand comes up instinctively, cupping your cheek.

“what are you crying about now, brat?” the “insult” doesn’t stick, it never did even from the moment he met you.

you don’t answer, just sniffle quietly, and he sighs under his breath before shifting. he maneuvers you down beside him on the too-small couch, half his body hanging off the edge, but he doesn’t care. his arms wrap around you, warm and steady.

“love,” he murmurs, voice low and gentle, “you gonna tell me why you’re crying, hm?” his thumbs brush the tears under your eyes.

you sniffle again. “it’s just that… it means you’re getting old…”

he huffs out a quiet laugh. “you worried i won’t be as handsome?”

you lightly swat his arm. “never! i’ll just have more competition…” you mumble, embarrassed, and he chuckles into your hair.

“i’m flattered you’re crying over me getting older.”

“when i get a grey, will you cry?” you pout, and his eyes flicker down.

“yes.” he answers without missing a beat.

“is it because i’ll be ugly—”

he bites lightly at the junction of your neck.

“ow— ow! it was a joke!”

he presses a soft kiss over the spot right after, lingering there as he buries his face into your neck. “no. i won’t cry because of that.”

“then what for?”

you feel the warm puff of his breath against your skin as he pulls you closer, arms tightening just a little.

“it’ll just means my dream is coming true…”

he lifts his head, looking at you with so much quiet adoration it makes your chest ache. his eyes soften, almost glassy, like he might cry if he let himself.

“i’ll grow old with you.”