SimplyShee

you got by closing your eyes at the scarier parts and subtly whispering to sukuna to tell you when it was over.

then the movie hit you with the most horrific, satan-spawned jumpscare imaginable.

you shrieked so loud the entire row flinched.

your hand jerked violently.

and your ice cream launched directly into satoru gojo's face.

silence.

then satoru yelling, “WHAT THE HELLY?”

suguru and toji snickered.

and suddenly you were crying.

partly because you’d just assaulted sukuna's friend with matcha soft serve after you'd spent a whole minute outside the theatre convincing all of them you weren't scared in the slightest before you'd gone in.

partly because that was some really good ice cream you'd just wasted.

partly because everyone was staring.

but mostly because that movie was fucking terrifying.

sukuna immediately grabbed your wrist and stood up. “aight, we’re leaving.”

you hid your face in his arm while his friends snickered behind you. humiliation burned hot in your chest as he guided you out of the theater, your legs still shaky.

outside, the cold night air hit your cheeks.

“sorry…” you mumbled miserably.

sukuna snorted. “it's fine, baby. gojo deserved it, he was being an asshole."

you whined, covering your face. "i wasn't talking about that!"

he laughed under his breath, but there wasn’t an ounce of cruelty in it. just amusement. then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, “i’ll take you home, yeah?”

you sniffled and nodded. “that was scary.”

“i know, babe. i'm sorry,” he opened the passenger door for you, buckling your seatbelt himself with surprising gentleness. “should’ve known that shit would freak you out.”

“it was my idea…” you hiccuped.

“i still shoulda said no.” he shut the door and rounded the hood of the car.

the few seconds you sat alone were awful. your eyes immediately darted to the rearview mirror. the backseat looked way too dark. you stared at it, fully convinced some horrifying demon woman was about to crawl over the seats and kill you.

the driver door opened and sukuna slid in and caught you staring.

“…you looking at your little friend back there?”

you gasped, “kuna, don’t SAY that!”

he barked out a laugh while starting the engine. “you want another ice cream?”

your watery eyes widened hopefully. “…yeah.”

“thought so.”

by the time you reached your apartment complex, you were clutching a drive-thru soft serve with both hands while sukuna walked beside you toward your door.

you were finally calm again.

until he kissed your forehead, patted your ass lightly, and turned away. “see you tomorrow, babe.”

terror immediately flooded your face. you grabbed his arm so fast he almost stumbled back.

he looked down at you with a blink. then sighed. “…should’ve expected that.”

your eyes welled up again. “y-you’re leaving?”

“nah.” he unlocked your apartment and walked in beside you. “just wanted to see your face.” sukuna lied smoothly.

you blinked. “…oh.”

“cute reaction though.”

you huffed at him before setting your ice cream on the counter. “um… i need to pee.”

“okay?” he said, lifting a questioning brow, not quite sure what this has to do with him.

you awkwardly twisted your fingers together before looking up at him nervously.

a beat passed.

then sukuna sighed the sigh of a man accepting his fate.

a minute later, he was inside your bathroom aggressively yanking the shower curtain open .checking the cabinets. looking behind the door.

“there.” he deadpanned. “no demons.”

you stood in the doorway anxiously. “is it safe?”

“yes.”

“…promise?”

“baby, if something attacks you while you piss, i’ll personally beat its ass.”

you considered that seriously.

“…okay.”

you stepped inside cautiously.

“stand by the door.”

“stand by the—” he repeated in disbelief, before he stopped himself with a long exhale. “fine.”

“and turn around.”

“baby, i’ve literally seen you naked—”

“TURN AROUND.”

“bossy as hell,” he muttered, turning around anyway.

“and cover your ears.”

he stared at you over his shoulder in disbelief. “why?”

"i don't want you hearing me pee!"

sukuna sighed slowly. then lifted two resigned hands to his ears.

“not all the way though,” you continued nervously, “or you won’t hear me scream.”

sukuna closed his eyes and covered his ears, “that all, princess?”

“mhm!” you chirped brightly, kissing his cheek. “thanks honey. you’re sooo brave.”

he looked up at the ceiling like he was asking the universe for strength.

“next time we’re watching finding nemo.”

supa kyoot dividers by my fave @anitalenia !!

Despite all these doubts though, you’d wasted too much gas at this point to do anything but continue trusting the GPS as it lead you towards the less populated part of town.

The next turn had you driving down yet another desolate tree lined road, except this time a sign near its start read‘Private Property’ and ‘No Trespassing’.

Hopefully, this was the right way and you just had some bougie potential employers.

You rehearsed answers to common interview questions you’d found online in your head, in an attempt to ease nerves.

Seven reruns later, and finally a destination was in site, it was some big ass house mansion set against the woods like something out of Twilight.

It looked weathered, but that seemed mostly as a natural result of time, its place simply looked too natural among the backdrop of flora. The grey of its wall wasn’t as harsh as the original white likely was, so serene with a garden arranged so precisely and the lawn trimmed so neatly.

Car parked. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out.

Eventually, you do step out of the car, locking it before finally making your way up the stone slab stairs. An arm stays rigid around your folder, while the other takes a hold of the bronze door knocker to well… knock.

As you step back, while you ponder how often the thing you’d just let go of was cleaned, the door swings inwards causing your eyes to blink rapidly in surprise.

You were soon faced with a rather well built chest before your eyes trail up and up and up till they were holding contact with the most piercing pair of greys ever.

Shit was almost scary.

So were the morbid looking tattoos winding around his arm and the black surgical mask that covered half his face.

Was it bad to think this possible killer was hot?

Couldn’t exactly blame you though. Not when his dirty blonde hair was cropped to his scalp in a way that suited him so damn well. He looked rather blessed too where size was concerned, his height great and his muscle tone/size even greater(anatomy had never seemed so interesting). Even with half his face covered, his sideburns alluded to some sort of facial hair that would surely add to the rugged charm he was bound to have with the scar that ran across his eyebrow and the one that started at the inner corner of his eye, the rest hidden. His eyes in particular were probably his most striking feature, it was almost unsettling how arresting they were.

You felt as if you were laid bare under his assessing gaze, like he could see through every passing thought at a glance.

Now that would be embarrassing.

It caused a fluttery tingling in your belly, a warmth in your cheeks and a big smile in a desperate attempt to mask how nervous you were in front of this very large and very attractive man.

“(Your Name)?” the scary stranger asks first with his eyebrow cocked as if to confirm.

“That’s me. Are you Mr. Riley?”

He grunts, before he turns to make his way down the hallway hoping you’d just follow?

Such a lousy killer, hmph.

The two of you end up in what could be assumed to be some sort of office or study. One wall lined with impressive looking plaques and medals, multitudes of file cabinets and a small shelf of books. The arrangement is rather haphazard but neat in a way. Nothing exactly seems cohesive, each piece of furniture looks like a singular from different sets, but nothing was disorganized.

He lets out a simultaneous groan and sigh as he settles into his chair, hand gesturing for you to do the same.

His gaze settles on you naturally, as he waits for you to get comfortable, and it’s mortifying how quickly your stomach flips in response.

Soon his attention is flicking downwards towards your resume and he’s suddenly very talkative, starts asking questions about your experience and skillset before explaining what had been on the job listing in more depth.

You’d possibly be caring for his mother Mrs. Riley, who’d recently been diagnosed with ALS but also had some pre existing medical issues due to old age.

It was a mostly live in position with four days out of the week as he explained, “She’ll be staying at at an assistive care facility the rest of the days since I’m mostly not home.”

He claimed that for now she mostly needed company as more of a safety measure and help with general mobility.

You ask some general questions in between about her care, medications, communication with her doctors, the pay and soon enough the interview is rapping up.

“Right now I’m most satisfied with you, but need you to meet mum first before confirming anything.”

That catches you off guard, because he’d not exactly seemed impressed with you. It was good to know though now that you were convinced that this was an actual job opportunity

“Ofcourse, Sir,” in response to that he stared at you a beat longer than necessary and it made you thing you’d spontaneously grown another head, as your heart began to race. “Sir?”

He hums before he’s finally leading you out further down the hall and stepping into a room.

Before you were even particularly close you’d heard cackles then successive coughs mixed in with a Sitcom’s laugh track.

When you’re both finally in the room she must sense it, because the frail, grey haired woman is pausing the TV and whipping her head around faster than should be possible.

“Who the fuck is she?”

Mr. Riley rolls his eyes, “She is (Your Name) and might be taking care of you.”

“Fix your face,” a mom will always be a mom, even if her son is 40 I guess, “and I already told you I don’t need no damn help.”

“We agreed that you’d get that new TV if I could hire a caretaker.”

The scowl on her face deepens, before her focus is suddenly on me, “Why are you so damn quiet?”

“Well there’s nothing for me to say Mrs. Riley.”

“Hmm,” she sighs before patting the seat next to here, “come on, come sit down need to get back to my show.”

And that’s how you end up chatting with Mrs. Riley and watching God knows what for a good 15 minutes.

“Well, you’re a smart girl, so why’re you taking care of me?”

You were going to say the standard, ‘I like taking care of people’ but decide against it.

“I needed a job and this was available.”

A cackle then, “That so!”

Eventually you’re watching as she gets less animated in the span of a few minutes soon falling asleep, you shut the tv and back into the hallway slowly as you close the door. Unfortunately, you knock right into Mr. Riley who stares as you apologize and right yourself nervously.

“She likes you.”

“Well I’d hope so,” you say more high pitched due to awkwardness.

“Job’s yours if you want it.”

You should probably tell him you’d get back to him but instead you answer simply, “I do.”

“Lovely, then all’s settled then.”

The afternoon ends with a handshake and a promise to correspond further through email.

You offer your number, your cheeks hot, “I’ll see updates more quickly, that way,” knowing damn well you’ve got the email app with notifications turned on.

He doesn’t seem to bat an eye although unbeknownst to you his lips quirks upward under his mask, “‘Course, sweetheart.”

So fucked.