rereeee

Hey [Y/N],  Glad to hear that things are slowing down at work for you. Being overworked and stressed isn’t fun, and isn’t good for you. Hopefully that pace stays the same and you can find some time for yourself. Maybe you can take up a hobby or something, I dunno. Keep yourself busy so your brain doesn’t rot from all the accounting work you do. I’ve heard that doing math can be bad for your health. At least, that’s how I felt in school. I was always shit at math. When you mentioned your favorite movie, it made me think of my brother. I haven’t seen Pride & Prejudice, but it’s probably not really my thing. I think it's a romance movie and the feel good stuff doesn’t really do it for me. I can see the appeal, though, if that is the sort of thing you like. My brother’s favorite movie was Human Earthworm. Ever seen it? If you haven’t yet, don’t. It’s absolutely god awful. Worst movie I’ve ever seen. But my brother loved it so much and made me watch it a thousand times. I think I could still recite it from memory. And there’s like five of them. I swear my brother funded most of the damn series with the amount of times he bought tickets and movie merch. Things over here are obviously slow. October is a weird month for me. My birthday is on the 25th and I hate celebrating it. It just reminds me that I’m stuck here in this stupid cell wasting away and that I’m not getting any younger. My dad sometimes calls me or sends me a few bucks, but otherwise I don’t do shit for it. I can’t even remember the last time I actually celebrated it. Doesn’t feel like there’s really much to celebrate anyway. It also reminds me that I get the luxury of growing older while Yuji didn’t. Just sucks all around. I’m going to be 33 this year so I’ll have to head into retirement soon. I know they say 33 isn’t old but I feel ancient here. So this year I’ll be throwing myself a pity-party. You’re welcome to join. Hope your month goes better. Doing anything for Halloween? That’s coming up soon. Yuji always dressed up as the dumbass Human Earthworm unsurprisingly. Sorry I keep talking about him, he’s just been on my mind a lot lately. My go-to was usually Ghostface (the guy from Scream if you aren’t sure who that is). What do you usually dress up as? Whatever you decide to do, hope it’s fun. You deserve some fun.  Take care and talk soon. R.S.

Talk soon, he wrote. It made your stomach flutter with happiness. The fact that he wanted to keep talking and clearly stated it out for you meant more than he would ever know. It was such a small thing, but it really warmed your heart. Your ex-boyfriend had sometimes made you feel like a chore or inconvenience, and knowing that someone wanted your attention in some way was affirming. 

Even though he had started these letters by initially saying you two were not going to be friends, it was hard not to consider the way you talked to each other as anything but friendship. You could actually read and track the changes in his letters. When things started becoming more casual and more of his personality came out instead of being distant and matter-of-fact. 

Take care. Ryomen often wished you well and told you to take care of yourself. Sure, he could have just been a polite or decent person, but something told you that this wasn’t typical. That Ryomen did not waste his breath or time on things that didn’t matter to him. In some capacity, you had to matter at least a little bit. 

And the scarier, more thrilling thing was that he mattered a lot to you. Anymore, you thought about him often, wondering what he was doing and if he was feeling okay. It was silly, but sometimes you tried to visualize sending him good vibes or positive thoughts through the air, hoping that he could feel someone rooting for him. Ryomen seemed so alone, sometimes, and knowing how that felt made you want to fix that for him.

His birthday was coming up in the next week and he mentioned that he usually celebrated it alone. The thought tugged at your heart, because nobody should have to celebrate their birthday alone. Especially not Ryomen, when he was already going through a hard time and in one of the worst places one could find themselves. 

An idea wriggled in your head like a parasite, whispering to you that maybe it could be a new thing to try. You were going to call Ryomen and wish him a happy birthday. To talk to him on the phone for the first time and hear his voice in real time.

Doing so would not only (hopefully) be a positive thing for him, but you hoped it would also help strengthen your social skills. While you still hadn’t had the courage to talk to your coworkers casually, writing to Ryomen had slowly started to build your confidence on interacting with people. Sometimes, you even shared pleasant looks and smiles with your coworkers! Perhaps if you actually talked to him, it might give you the boost that you needed to move forward in other aspects of your life. 

The entire rest of the week, you actually scripted and wrote down your conversation plans with him, even going as far as to create a decision tree for different responses that he might have. You were absolutely overthinking everything, but you were determined for this to go as smoothly as possible. It was imperative to make a good first impression, as you desperately wanted Ryomen’s approval. Though it was probably unhealthy, you at least had to be honest with yourself about it. 

The closer it got to his birthday, the more antsy and out of sorts you became. To try to distract yourself, you practiced your knitting skills during your breaks and in the evenings. Counting stitches became an easy repetitive action that soothed your fretting. It was your first time working on a sweater as a Christmas present for your mom, so focusing on the unfamiliar pattern further captured your attention. 

There were a few times when your knitting caught a few curious glances from your coworkers, which counted as a win in your book. It meant that either you or one of them was one step closer to interacting and bridging the gap. Perhaps calling Ryomen was going to be the magic variable in the equation that would finally solve it after a long period of struggling to figure it out. 

On Ryomen’s birthday, your attempt to call him did not go exactly as planned. Each step was detailed down to the minute, and you had hoped that the extensive preparation would set you up for success and be foolproof. 

What you hadn’t anticipated, however, was the fact that it was apparently frowned upon to call the prison yourself. In all of your planning, you hadn’t even considered the fact that prisoners weren’t exactly immediately available to answer a phone call. They certainly didn’t have any phones or communication devices in their cells, and you could imagine that trying to use the communal phones was quite competitive. 

Yet still, unknowingly, at 12:05pm you had called in and got connected with an operator. They identified the name of the prison he was housed at, confirming you had called the correct number. 

“How can I assist you today?” a feminine sounding voice said on the other end of the line, sounding bored and like they had had a particularly long shift.

“Yes, I was hoping to be connected with one of your inmates there, Ryomen Sukuna. His inmate number is 0032147,” you recited by memory, voice slightly shaky with nerves.

“Oh,” the person sounded slightly surprised, making your heart stutter, “Well, unfortunately ma’am, calls into the prison are strictly prohibited. Calls have to be initiated by the inmate with approved phone time.”

Your stomach dropped into your feet. Shit, you thought in panic. Sure, you could respond to his next letter, but that would be after his birthday and you were really hoping to talk to him on the actual day. Scrambling to think of a response, you didn’t immediately say anything as you wracked your brain for solutions.

“Ma’am, are you still there?” the operator asked when you remained silent in distress. You really should have planned for this, you chastised yourself internally.

“Yes, sorry,” you spluttered, operating on pure instinct with your next words, “Is there any way you could get a message to him? I was really hoping to speak with him because it’s his birthday today.” 

There was a moment of silence as the operator considered this. You felt stupid for even asking because you had clearly violated their rules and were now asking for special treatment. This is why spontaneity and last minute ideas were not exactly your strong suit. Even though the spontaneity in question had been a week in advance. 

“Normally, we wouldn’t really do that, but I suppose I can make an exception this time,” they said finally, “I can’t make any guarantees that it’ll get to him, but I will do my best. What would you like to say?”

Relief coursed through your body so strongly that you swore you were going to start crying. The message needed to be brief but to also get your point across. Thinking on your feet was not a talent of yours, especially when you were under pressure. 

“Um, just tell him that I’m wishing him a happy birthday and that I’d love to talk with him over the phone if he’s comfortable,” you settled on. 

After that, you gave the operator your full name and phone number and they repeated that they would do their best but there were no guarantees. The second you got off the phone, you slumped over on your couch with a frustrated sigh. There was likely no way you were going to get to speak to him on his birthday. 

Perhaps it really wasn’t meant to be. Perhaps you were forcing something that shouldn’t be, doomed to repeat the same mistakes as your last relationship. The more you thought about it, the worse you felt. You should have asked him first or looked up the stupid rules that the prison had for phone calls. They were ridiculous rules, really. 

It was also presumptuous to think that he actually wanted to talk to you in the first place. As the day went on, you fully convinced yourself that you were delusional and that you shouldn’t have left that message. Unease bled through you when you thought that maybe he would consider this as crossing a boundary. He had never once indicated he wanted to talk to you in real life, and you selfishly assumed that he would magically be okay with it. Grateful, even.

Your mind worked itself into knots, twisting and turning between logic and irrationality like a roller coaster from the bowels of hell. Even knitting didn’t help distract you, as you were unable to get over the fact that you had potentially ruined everything with Ryomen. The first person that you had felt some sort of connection with since your breakup. The thought alone was devastating.

So engrossed were you in your hellscape of a mind that you didn’t think twice when your phone rang. You picked it up on instinct, assuming in your distracted state that it was your mother or a telemarketer, whom you never had the heart to hang up on. They were just doing their jobs, after all.

A robotic voice crackled through the phone announcing that it was from the prison, with a disclaimer that the call was being recorded and monitored. Your heart almost stopped beating in your chest. When it asked if you still wished to proceed, the poor muscle leapt in your throat, making it almost impossible to speak.

“Yes!” you nearly shouted in response, desperately trying to cling to any semblance that not all hope was lost.

“Confirmed. Connecting to inmate number 0-0-0-3-2-1-4-7,” the voice slowly sounded out. Impatience made you twitchy and you almost shouted at a literal robot to hurry the hell up. Not exactly your finest moment.

Then, the line ceased its fuzzy, electronic hum. Your pulse raced through your veins like a stallion running in the wild, tossing its head around in agitation. Anticipation crept up your spine until you thought you might snap into two pieces.

“Hello?”

It was Ryomen. His voice was a lot deeper than you had imagined, gruff around the edges in what you had to assume was a response to being in prison for a long period of time. He sounded like someone whose bad side you did not want to get on. Yet, there didn’t appear to be any malice or annoyance in his tone. At least, you didn’t think so. It was hard to tell from a single word.

Your mind went blank. It was actually Ryomen. He was on the phone speaking to you. It wasn’t a figment of your imagination or a dream you were having. You even pinched yourself to check. When you heard him calling your name in a searching manner,  you realized you hadn’t even responded to his hello.

“You still there? This the right number?” he pressed, snapping you out of your internal reverie.

“Hi!” You blurted out, sounding like a bird chirping in alarm. It made you wince in embarrassment, but you powered through it, “Hi, yes, it’s me. Did you get my message?” 

The second the words left your mouth, you instantly felt foolish. Of course he had gotten your message, that was the entire reason he was calling. A blush warmed your cheeks when you swore you heard a soft huff of air like a half-chuckle on the other end of the line. God, you were an idiot.

“Yeah, I did,” Ryomen said. Again, it was hard to read his tone, but it didn’t seem like he was making fun of you. Maybe more like he was mildly amused with your antics.

“Oh, that-that’s good,” you stammered, further adding to your growing list of humiliating things that were happening during the phone call.

In all of your preparation, you hadn’t actually imagined how nerve wracking and emotional it would be to talk to him. Sure, you had scripted what you wanted to say, but you hadn’t imagined actually  saying it. Your voice sounded squeaky and unsure despite how hard you tried to keep it controlled. All of your scripting had been thrown out the window.

“What did-”

“I just wanted-”

Both of you spoke at the same time and instantly went quiet when you realized you had interrupted each other. At this point, you wouldn’t have been surprised if Ryomen never wanted to speak to you again. After an awkward pause, he was the one to break it first.

“Go ahead,” Ryomen said. 

“Oh, um, sorry, I just wanted to say happy birthday,” you said quickly, “I hope it’s been okay.”

“Thanks,” he responded, his voice becoming something that you almost could’ve categorized as gentle, “It’s been…a day, I guess. Same as any other day.”

“Good, at least, I think that’s good. Sorry, I know this is kind of out of the blue, and I probably should have checked with you first, but I read your letter and I just thought it would be nice to call you on your birthday because I…just thought it would be nice to do it by phone and talk to you,” your words tumbled into one another like rocks down a cliff. None of it really made sense and you probably sounded like an incoherent fool. 

“You didn’t have to,” he said after a moment. Your blood ran cold. The only possible reason he would say that is because you had upset him, right?

“I’m so sorry, I should have-” you started to say, but he actually cut you off, much to your shock.

“Hey, stop apologizing. It’s fine. It is a nice gesture,” Ryomen reassured you in that almost monotone manner of his, “I usually only speak to my dad and he didn’t call this year.”

You wondered if you were the only person who had wished Ryomen a happy birthday today. If he had any friends on the inside that would pat him on the back or whatever it was that men did to celebrate each other. If he and his dad had a good relationship or not. If he was disappointed by the fact that his dad didn’t call. If he was grateful that you did.

Scrambling to think of anything to say, you again completely forgot about your script entirely and blundered down the path of the conversation like Sisyphus' cursed rock.

“Did you do anything fun?”  you asked suddenly.

It was like you had no control over your mind or tongue at all. What an utterly ridiculous question, you winced. He was in prison for fuck’s sake, it wasn’t like they threw him a party at an amusement park with a paper crown on his head or took him to a bar to celebrate and do shots.

“Kinda hard to do anything fun in here,” he answered with another huff that you hoped was laughter and was not a frustrated admonishment of your poor conversation skills. 

“No, right, of course. That…maybe that wasn’t the best question, sorry,” you mumbled, seconds away from banging your head against the coffee table in front of you.

There was a brief pause, and you actually thought about lying and saying you had something important to do so you could put him out of his misery and end the call, when he broke the silence once more. 

“You always apologize that much?” he asked simply. 

Nobody had ever pointed such a thing out to you, yet in this conversation alone you realized that you had apologized at least four times in the span of five minutes. If you really thought about it, you often did apologize to people. Especially to people you cared about or people at work. The amount of times you had apologized to Hiromi for bothering him had to be some sort of world record.

“Oh…I never really noticed,” you admitted sheepishly. 

“Yeah. You keep apologizing for shit you don’t need to,” Ryomen said firmly. It didn’t sound like he was admonishing you, but you still felt like you were being scolded in a way. 

“God, I’m sorry, that’s so ridiculous,” you lamented, putting your head in your hand with a sigh.

“You just apologized again,” he pointed out.

“I did? Sorry - dammit!” you swore as you caught yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Then, Ryomen actually laughed. It wasn’t an ambiguous huff of air or even a slight chuckle. It was an actual laugh that made your insides feel warm and gooey. You had made Ryomen Sukuna laugh. It felt like you hadn’t made an actual person laugh in years. It was brief, but warm and rich with the timbre of his soothing voice.

“You’re fine, it’s all good,” he said, then sounding slightly hesitant, he asked, “How was your week?”

What started as a stilted, awkward conversation blended into something far more comfortable. The more you talked to him, the more it felt like you were slipping into a cozy cocoon of familiarity. Even if it wasn’t supposed to, it did feel remarkably like the two of you were old friends catching up. While his initial demeanor had been gruff and slightly intimidating if you were being honest, you found that to be mostly a facade. So far, your conversation with Ryomen made you feel…safe, in a way.

The phone call ended up lasting almost thirty minutes on the dot before Ryomen had announced that he needed to leave. Apparently phone call time was strictly enforced due to the popularity of it and he had already gone past his allotted time. Saying goodbye felt intrinsically wrong, but there was something like the hint of a promise as you disconnected the call that you couldn’t ignore.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ryomen Sukuna had broken several of his major rules for human interaction, especially the ones he had arbitrarily made up for you in his head. The first being that he had actually returned your damn message. 

His birthday had begun like any other abysmal day at that stupid prison. Sukuna had awoken in a foul mood that was typical for his birthdays, but something about this year had felt particularly offensive and annoying. Perhaps it was everything that had been brought up while exchanging letters with you and his recent nightmares about Yuji’s death that had made the entire affair more sour than usual.

On top of that, that dumbass Noaya seemed like he was up to something. Every time Sukuna happened to glance near him in the lunchrooms or in the courtyard, the motherfucker looked like he was scheming. Plotting. Talking with people whom Sukuna had had prior run-ins with in the past. It didn’t sit well with him.

On top of that, his father didn’t call this year. It wasn’t like they were particularly close or anything. Sukuna knew that Jin blamed him for Yuji’s death; most of his family did. Nobody had been shy about stating as such, and none of them had ever visited him in prison. In a way, he didn’t fault them for that. Sukuna mostly blamed himself, too. 

His dad calling each year was a constant that he could rely on, even if they didn’t talk about anything of value. It was his one connection to the outside world, his outside world that he had previously known. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had actually been disappointed when his father didn’t call for once. 

Briefly, he wondered if something bad had happened, but quickly dismissed that line of thinking. He was probably busy or had just decided to finally fuck off and leave Sukuna in the dust. If something bad had happened, none of the family would likely reach out, and there wasn’t really much he could do from in there. It would also just depress him to think about, so he did what he was used to with most emotional topics: stopped fucking thinking about it and shoved it as far away in his psyche as he could manage. 

Imagine his surprise when the inmate who distributed mail had slid a piece of note paper through the bars of his cell later that day. It wasn’t a letter like he was used to expecting, and it was a bit soon for your response to his previous one. No, it was a memo from the prison phone operators from you. You had tried to call him.

It didn’t compute in his brain at first. Why the hell would you want to call him? The two of you had never discussed anything like that. Sukuna had been very careful not to do so. Had been very careful not to delve into any line of thinking that what you had between the two of you was nothing more than cordial penpals. 

Yet, you wanted to call him. You had called him. Worse, you wanted to wish him a happy birthday. Because you were just that fucking nice. Sometimes it sickened him, but he knew that was probably his way of distancing from anything that bordered on affection or care. Affection and care got people nowhere good in prison. It certainly hadn’t done him any fucking favors in his life.

Sukuna knew he should ignore it. That he should pretend he never got the message and feign ignorance if you asked about it in the future. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that it got lost in translation or seized by the prison guards as suspicious. Sukuna should continue to operate as normal and toe the line between friendship and acquaintance. A category strictly reserved in his mind just for you.

That sickening, horrible curiosity burned in his gut, however. Like an infectious disease eating at his insides, he wondered things. Wondered what you wanted to say and how you would say it. If you were doing this only because you felt bad for him or because you actually cared. More humiliating, he really wanted to know if you sounded as sweet as you wrote.

Against all of his better judgement (which he attributed to temporary weakness due to the emotional state of his pathetic birthday), he booked time to make a call. He asked the operator to dial the number you had left and tried to pretend he was nonchalant about the entire thing. Even though his heart stuttered when the call actually connected.

To his utter horror, you did sound as sweet as you wrote. Your voice was unlike anything he had ever heard. Sweet, melodic, like a fucking siren luring him to the depths of the sea. Sukuna wanted to slap himself; he was being ridiculous. You were the first woman’s voice he had heard in years, so that was probably why it stood out to him so much. That was all.

His second mistake was being gentle with you. If he had had any amount of sense, he would’ve kept things no nonsense. He should have accepted your well wishes and ended the call. Yet he didn’t. He spoke with you for thirty fucking minutes. Worse, he comforted you when you seemed unsure and apologetic for literally no reason at all. 

It hadn’t even been something he thought about. Sukuna reacted on instinct. He could tell that you were nervous and something in him had wanted to soothe that. The precedent was dangerous and he didn’t care for it at all. 

His third mistake was allowing himself to be casual with you. By the end of the conversation, the two of you were chatting like old friends, chuckling at jokes and anecdotes like it was something that was always done. You were really easy to talk to, especially once you got more comfortable. The beginning of the call had started with you being spooked like a newly born fawn, and by the end you had melted into reassured, but quiet confidence. 

Selfishly, it had felt good to talk to someone that actually wanted to talk back to him outside of being paid to do so like Suguru. That actually listened and seemed to care. It was foolish and he knew better than that. He knew that everything he touched was ruined. That when he cared, it blew up in his face every time. Yet he had still allowed himself to let you in. For fuck’s sake he had smiled. Laughed, even. Pathetic. Horrifying.

His fourth mistake was when the call ended. You had said something to the effect of, “we should talk again soon,” and he had stupidly agreed. This type of dynamic wasn’t something he should be encouraging. It really wasn’t. Right? Lord, he was already questioning his principles and that was never a fucking good thing. None of this was good.

The phone call ate away at him for the better part of the week. Given that there weren't many exciting events in prison, it was easily all he could think about. The conversation with you played in his head over and over. Even if he didn’t want it to, it gave him a strange warmth in his chest as he recalled it. Especially when he remembered your soft, sugary voice.

Bad, bad, bad. It was horrible. This was not good. Even more, detrimentally worse, your next letter came in, responding to his previous one. 

Ryomen Sukuna, Inmate#0032147 Dear Ryomen, I hope this isn’t strange to say, but I really enjoyed speaking with you on the phone last week. You could probably tell, but I was incredibly nervous. Not because I was scared of you or anything, but I didn’t want to sound like a fool. Well…that didn’t exactly work out. But you were really nice about it, so thank you. Funnily enough, I had actually written out a script of things to say and didn’t follow any of it when you actually called back. Hopefully I didn’t scare you off or weird you out. If it’s okay, I think it would be really nice to talk on the phone again in the future. You know how I told you I have social anxiety? Well, the phone call really helped me and I think I could keep building my skills if we kept talking like that. Of course, I want to keep sending letters to you, too. It’s also a bit selfish, but I just really like talking to you and want to hear you again. As far as your last letter, I decided to take your advice and get back into my hobbies, which has been a welcome distraction. While I had already known how to knit (not well, but decently enough), I hadn’t done it since my break-up because I didn’t have the energy or mental capacity. For the past few weeks, though, I’ve started getting back into it and it’s really soothing. I’m working on a sweater for my mom since Christmas is basically just around the corner, and I hope I don’t completely fuck it up. I’ll keep you posted, haha. I had never heard of the Human Earthworm series, actually! In Yuji’s honor, I decided to do a marathon this past weekend. They were delightfully weird. Yes, they’re kind of bad, but it’s almost charming in a way. It even made me a bit emotional because I know how much you bonded with him over this and it was nice to get a glimpse into that. I don’t normally dress up for Halloween, but maybe I’ll be one of the characters this year to answer trick-or-treaters at my apartment door. I can’t believe it’s already November and we’re well into autumn. It feels like just yesterday it was blisteringly hot and I had just gotten the courage to send you a letter. How time flies, huh? The holiday season is approaching, which means I’ll have to be around my family. We don’t necessarily have a bad relationship, but it’ll be the first one since the break-up and my mom can be a bit…critical at times. Does your dad ever reach out for holidays? I hope he does! Maybe we can chat during one of them?  Things at work have continued to be steady, which is preferable to being painfully slow or mind-numbingly busy. I’ve been working on my sweater at my desk, even! And I’ve only had to take it apart, like…10 times! Trust me, that’s an improvement. I hope this letter finds you well and that things over there are going as decent as they can. Stay warm in these cooling months, okay? Talk soon! Sincerely, [Y/N]

It felt like a bomb had dropped inside Sukuna's chest. You actually liked talking to him and said as much. Wanted to keep talking to him, even. You had watched the stupid ridiculous Human Earthworm films despite him warning you they were terrible. In Yuji’s honor. 

Yeah. Sukuna was absolutely, irrevocably fucked. This was not going to end well for either of you. Of that, he was certain.

← prev 𓆩♡𓆪 next → (coming soon)

⁀➷ a/n: sorry it took a bit longer for this chapter! i had started out on a good stride but life happens and i had some struggles writing down what i wanted to write. this is also a bit of a longer chapter but has some really good deposition and fluff :) hope you enjoyed!!

⁀➷ sukuna art by innaillus on twitter

You froze slightly, the rim of the glass hovering near your lips. You took a slow sip of the soda to buy yourself a second, gently lowering the cup before meeting Choso's gaze. Sukuna was already staring intensely at you from across the counter, but you forced your attention to remain on Choso.

"What exactly do you want to know?" you asked carefully.

"Like, when you two were dating versus now that you're married... did anything actually change? And don't give me the sugarcoated version."

You let out a quiet breath, the weight of your own reality settling heavily on your shoulders. "I... well, my marriage was an arranged marriage. I never actually got to date anyone before lol." You looked at Choso, watching his expression shift into one of pure surprise.

"Arranged? Wow, that's wild. So... you didn't love your husband? You're just living with a stranger?" His questions weren't judgmental. he just looked genuinely, deeply curious. Out of the corner of your eye, however, you noticed Sukuna throwing him a sharp, warning glare.

"At first, I guess you could look at it that way" you murmured, spinning the glass between your fingers. You hated the lie, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit the truth. You didn't want anyone looking at you with pity, thinking you were just some miserable, pathetic woman trapped in a cold house. "But we actually understand each other really well now. We get along great, and... we might have fallen for each other along the way."

"Mhm. Well, that's good then. How ab-" Choso started, but he was instantly cut off by Sukuna's rough, commanding voice.

"Asking her isn't going to fix a damn thing between you and Yuki. Focus on fixing whatever the fuck is going on in your own relationship, and stop being a pussy. Just marry the woman."

You shifted your weight, looking at Choso with soft curiosity. "But why don't you want to marry her? You two look so deeply in love."

"I do... I love her more than anything" Choso confessed, trying his best to put his chaotic thoughts into words. "But the thing is, I'm terrified that everything will change once we get those papers. Isn't dating enough? We can keep dating, we can even have kids... do all of that. But the moment you get married, it feels like this big ass responsibility."

"I seriously hope she leaves your pathetic ass, Choso. Where is this nonsense even coming from?" Sukuna growled, leaning forward against the counter.

"Man... my parents used to be so happy, alright?" Choso's voice cracked slightly, his eyes dropping to the counter. "They were so in love. And then my fucking father went and cheated on my mother. Ever since then, I just... I hate the entire concept of marriage. I love Yuki, and I would never cheat on her, but what if something shifts the moment we say 'I do'?"

"Then break the fucking cycle" Sukuna said firmly, blowing a heavy ring of smoke into the air. Your breath hitched slightly as you stared at him. You were utterly stunned by how much advice he was actually giving, despite his usual detached, uncaring front. "Marry her. Actually love her, and prove to yourself that you can be a better man, a better husband, and a better father than your old ass father ever was. Don't sit around whining about the past. Do something about it."

"I don't know..." Choso muttered, staring blankly at the floor. "I’d need a house, a ring... wedding plans are insane. Everything is just so damn expensive right now."

"At this point, you're just making excuses. If your mind is truly set on a woman, not even God can stop you" Sukuna stated, his sharp eyes locked onto his friend.

"You're talking like you'd just jump into it so easily-"

"I might look like a heartless bastard, but if I actually want someone? If she’s the one I truly want? Believe me, she is going to be mine. In this universe, or in any other universe. She'll have a ring on her finger, and I wouldn't give a damn if I had to work four jobs at once to make sure she gets exactly what she wants." Sukuna reached out, bringing a heavy hand down onto Choso's shoulder. "Stop overthinking it. Yuki is a good woman. Don't let her go, or you'll regret it for the rest of your life. And if you dare hurt her, I'm personally beating your ass. Go get your girl. When I call you tomorrow, your shit better be sorted out."

A gentle, involuntary smile spread across your face as you listened to him. It was incredibly endearing to see this fierce, protective side of Sukuna.

"Sukuna is right" you added softly, gaining Choso's attention. "I might not be able to give you perfect advice as a married person, but as a woman, I can tell you that commitment matters. Imagine investing years into someone just to break up because of fear that would completely break Yuki. Don't play with her feelings. You don't have to throw a massive wedding tomorrow if you're dealing with past trauma, but at least get engaged. Show her exactly where you stand."

Choso looked at you, a small, relieved smile breaking through his anxious demeanor. He gave Sukuna a firm pat on the back. "Thanks, guys. I need to go... I'm gonna go get my girl back. Catch up with you later, dude."

With that, he turned on his heel and hurried out of the house.

And soon Kenjaku followed him too, without saying anything, Sukuna didn't said anything felt like they were still not over the fight but you decided not to speak about it.

You let out a quiet sigh, watching the front door click shut before turning your attention back to the man beside you. Sukuna was already dragging another puff from his cigarette, staring off into space.

"I didn't know you were such a good at relationship advice" you teased, leaning closer with a playful smile. "I might just have to come to you the next time I need help."

"Nah. I don't give out my expertise for free" he replied, a smug, wicked smirk playing on his lips.

You giggled, tilting your head. "Oh really? And what's your price?"

"A kiss. Actually, make it French" he teased, his dark eyes glinting with mischief.

You gasped softly, a flush rising to your cheeks as you playfully slapped his arm. Before you could pull away, his hand shot out.pure, lightning-fast reflex and gently caught your wrist, lowering your hand back to the counter with a quiet chuckle. "Not funny, Sukuna!"

"who said I was trying to be funny" he grunted, though the amusement in his voice was unmistakable.

You rolled your eyes, trying to master the erratic beating of your heart. To change the subject, you asked, "Is Yuji getting dressed up tomorrow for the preschool function? Is he going to look like a mini version of you?"

At the mention of his nephew, Sukuna snorted, his entire demeanor softening in a way that always melted you. "Brat wanted to dress up as a fucking machinic. But I told him he had to choose between being a lawyer or a mechanic. Then the kid looked at me and said we'd have to buy a suit for a lawyer..." Sukuna trail of smoke drifted away, his gaze dropping slightly.

"I can easily lend you one of Megumi's old suits-"

"Nah, don't worry about it. I have the money, I can buy him whatever he needs" Sukuna interrupted, a low, self-deprecating laugh escaping him. "It's just... the brat thinks suits cost a fortune. He probably thinks his uncle isn't financially stable or some shit."

Your chest squeezed painfully at the raw vulnerability in his voice. It was so rare for him to openly voice his insecurities, even if he tried to laugh them off immediately after.

"Kids are just naturally like that" you murmured softly. Without overthinking it, you reached out, placing your small hand over his large, calloused one, gently rubbing your thumb against his skin. His eyes snapped directly to yours, widening slightly at the sudden contact. "You are good uncle, Sukuna. Yuji knows that. Don't worry so much. Even Megumi used to ask me if we could afford pineapples when he was smaller."

Sukuna snorted, the tension leaving his shoulders. "Pineapples? Seriously?"

"Yes!" you giggled, happy to see the heavy mood lift. "Because we only ever bought them around Christmas, so he genuinely thought we were too poor to afford them during the rest of the year."

Sukuna shook his head, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked down at your joined hands. "Wow. Is your kid dressing up as his old man tomorrow?"

Your smile grew proud and bright. "No. He actually said he wants to dress up like me."

Sukuna’s gaze softened drastically, a look of profound respect entering his eyes. "A doctor, huh? Nice choice." He gave your hand a brief, final squeeze before gesturing toward the living room. "Come on."

You walked together over to the couch, sinking into the cushions side by side. Sukuna leaned his head back, exhaling a slow breath of smoke, his eyes trained on you. He looked as if he were about to say something important, but the words were abruptly cut off by a loud, unmistakable moan echoing from upstairs.

The color instantly rushed to your face, your cheeks burning bright red.

"I swear to God, I am going to murder those horny bastards" Sukuna growled, glaring up at the ceiling with pure venom.

An awkward, flustered chuckle escaped you. "They... they're cute together."

"Cute or not, they can be cute somewhere that isn't my damn bed" he grunted.

You sighed softly, dropping your gaze back down to your hands to hide your embarrassment.

"So..." Sukuna’s voice dropped, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant. "Are you free tomorrow? You know, after the whole preschool thing is over?"

Instantly, a bright, ecstatic smile lit up your face as the excitement took over. You completely forgot about the awkwardness from a moment ago. "Mhm, no, actually! I'm going on a date with my husband. He's taking me to a really expensive, gorgeous restaurant!"

The words cut through the air, and though you couldn't see it, something sharp and unpleasant twisted in Sukuna's chest. It was a harsh, grounding reminder of the reality he constantly tried to ignore: you were entirely off-limits. You belonged to someone else. You were just his friend. That was it.

"You sound like it's the first time a guy has ever asked you out on a date" Sukuna said, his tone laced with a lazy snort as he tried to mask the sudden bitterness.

Your bright smile faltered slightly, embarrassment creeping back in. "Mhm, really? Do I sound like that?"

Sukuna shifted, turning his head to look at you fully. "Everything going alright with you and your man?"

You hesitated. You didn't want to broadcast the fractures in your marriage, but looking into Sukuna's dark, steady eyes, you felt a strange sense of safety. "Things... haven't been the best lately" you admitted softly, offering him a small, fragile smile. "But right now, everything is finally getting back on track. So, thank you."

"Just know..." Sukuna said, his voice dropping into a deep, deadly serious register. "If you ever need anything at all... you call me. Alright?"

You nodded quickly, a wave of profound gratitude washing over you. "You're actually really sweet, Ryo."

Sukuna immediately scoffed, rolling his eyes and turning his head away, though the faint tint of color on his ears gave him away. You let out a soft, delighted chuckle at his reaction. His expression softened once more, and he shifted his weight, spreading his legs wider as he grabbed a throw pillow, tossing it over his lap. He cleared his throat roughly.

"Can you grab me a glass of water?" he asked.

You raised an eyebrow at the sudden request but stood up without a word, walking back into the kitchen to pour it for him.

The moment your back was turned, Sukuna forcefully pressed the pillow down against his lap, gripping the edges tightly. He closed his eyes, cursing himself under his breath as he tried to force his racing blood to calm down. It was infuriating. He hadn't slept with a woman in over a month a record for him and the worst part was that he couldn't control his body's reaction whenever you were within arm's reach.

When you quickly walked back into the living room holding the glass, he practically snatched it from your hand. You watched in mild amusement as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, gulping the water down in one aggressive go. You bit your tongue to keep from teasing him, though your mind briefly wandered to how attractive he looked just doing something so simple.

"Calm down, Sukuna" you giggled, settling back onto the couch beside him. You pulled out your phone, absentmindedly scrolling through your notifications.

"Which restaurant?" he asked out of nowhere.

You blinked, looking up from your screen. You wondered why he was suddenly so interested in your dinner plans. "Mhm, it's the one right near the mall. You know..." You tried to describe it, though your knowledge of the city's geography was notoriously terrible.

"The Italian place?" he supplied lazily.

"Yes! That's the one!" you beamed, your face lighting up all over again. "Toji told me he made the reservation days ago because it's a super exclusive, VIP spot."

You flashed him a dazzling, radiant smile, and a dull ache throbbed in Sukuna’s chest.

"sounds fun" he murmured, blowing a stream of smoke off to the side, away from your face.

"Yes! Oh, by the way, where is Yuji hiding?" you asked, pouting slightly as you realized the house was far too quiet.

A faint smirk returned to his lips. "With his grandparents."

"Oh. I thought you didn't liked them"

"I don't like anyone" Sukuna countered simply. "But I can't exactly stop them from seeing their own grandkid, can I?"

You hummed softly in agreement. "Yeah, you're right. Grandparents always want to spoil their grandbabies." A fleeting shadow of sadness crossed your face, a quiet ache settling deep in your chest at the thought that you might never have a tiny bundle of joy of your own to hold and kiss every single day.

"Speaking of kids" Sukuna casual tone cut through your thoughts. "Don't you want one with your man? Like, one of your own, since the kid with the spiky hair isn't biologically yours."

You rolled your eyes at his stubborn refusal to just use Megumi's name. Letting out a long, quiet sigh, you looked down at your lap. "I mean, yeah... babies are cute. But recently, I went to see my gynecologist, and she told me there might be some serious complications with me getting pregnant."

You had been going to Shoko for your regular monthly checkups, and hearing that clinical diagnosis had secretly broken a piece of your heart.

Sukuna instantly stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, all trace of his lazy demeanor vanishing as he looked at you intensely. "Don't stress yourself out over it. If Toji gives you any shit about it, you just tell me-"

"What do you even have against Toji?" you interrupted, a soft, amused chuckle escaping you.

"Nothing. He's just an annoying bastard who can't take a punch to save his life."

"What?" You stared at him, utterly bewildered.

"Back when I used to do underground boxing, your husband used to show up and basically take cash just to get the shit beaten out of him," Sukuna explained, a dark smirk playing on his lips. "I was seventeen or eighteen at the time, and he was around twenty. He always had this woman with him...short hair, round face. It definitely wasn't you. Your hair is long."

The breath caught in your throat. Your gaze drifted to the floor, the heavy atmosphere returning in an instant. "That was his late wife..." you whispered, the memory of the woman who constantly haunted your marriage looming over you once again.

Sukuna fell silent for a moment, observing your dropped expression. "Could've guessed. Back then, it looked like he had run away from his family."

You gave a slow, tight nod, staring blankly at the wall ahead. Suddenly, the warmth of the house felt suffocating. "Mhm... I think I should probably head home now" you murmured, abruptly standing up from the couch, completely losing all desire to keep chatting.

Sukuna stood up immediately after you. "Why? Sta-" He cut himself off, clearing his throat. "I can drop you off."

You nodded quietly in appreciation.

Sukuna turned toward the stairs, raising his voice so it carried to the second floor. "I'm going to drop Y/n off. If you two haven't fucked off from my place by the time I get back, I am throwing both of your horny asses out into the fucking street!"

A small smile managed to find its way back to your face at his antics. Sukuna grabbed his car keys from the counter and signaled for you to follow him. You walked out into the cool evening air, and he stepped ahead, opening the passenger door of his jeep for you. You smiled up at him, but his expression remained stoic and unreadable. You felt a small pang of disappointment, but you quickly remnded yourself that this was Sukuna he didn't just smiles casually

He walked around the hood and climbed into the driver's seat with a heavy thud. As he started the engine, you turned your head to look out the window at the passing streets.

"I miss Yuji already" you said softly into the quiet cabin.

Sukuna glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "I bet the brat misses you too."

"I'm really excited for tomorrow" you continued, a genuine warmth seeping back into your voice. "I want to see both of my babies happy, and I'm so excited to hear what they have to say during the presentation."

Sukuna let out a soft, amused huff. "Both babies?"

You giggled, turning to look at him. "Yeah. Both of them. They're my babies."

Sukuna snorted, though a soft, affectionate expression crossed his face. "Yuji would lose his mind if he found out his favorite auntie called him her baby."

You smiled, settling back into your seat. As Sukuna drove, your eyes involuntarily traced his movements the way his large hands gripped the steering wheel, the sharp line of his jaw. You realized with a quiet jolt just how attached you had truly become to him.

"Ryo..."

"Hm?"

You stared at him for a beat, before shaking your head with a gentle smile. "Never mind."

"Something on your mind?" he asked, tapping his fingers against the wheel. "What's bothering you?"

You let out a soft sigh, resting your cheek against your hand. "Nothing, really. Just thinking."

Sukuna let out a low, rough chuckle. "Thinking about what? What exactly is going on inside that pretty head of yours, hm?"

The casual compliment brought a flush to your cheeks. You kept your eyes locked on his side profile.masculine, rugged, and completely, annoyingly beautiful. His nose had a slight, rugged crook to it that only made him look even more handsome.

"About you" you teased softly.

Sukuna glanced at you, a sharp, confident smirk instantly spreading across his face. "Oh yeah? Thinking about what, exactly?"

"Mhm... like how surprisingly pretty your nose is" you laughed softly.

Sukuna snorted, shaking his head. "'Pretty' is a word I don't think I've ever heard applied to me."

You chuckled, turning your attention back to the window. Small, heavy droplets of water were beginning to hit the glass, signaling the start of a sudden downpour. For some reason, the sound of the rain brought a profound sense of calm over you.

From the driver's seat, Sukuna stole another quick glance at you. Over the course of his life, Sukuna had seen plenty of things he considered beautiful. He found beauty in the way the smoke from his cigarettes curled into intricate patterns under the moonlight, or the way different oil paints bled into each other when he used to draw.

But none of it could ever compare to the woman sitting right next to him. You were breathtaking. He wasn't a religious man by any stretch of the imagination, but looking at you, he could almost believe that whatever God existed had taken His absolute time crafting every detail of your face. Your laugh, your profile, the quiet way you carried yourself whenever you giggled, it felt like a physical ache in his chest.

Toji Zenin has to be the luckiest bastard alive, he thought bitterly.

But he couldn't bring himself to envy the man too much. If Toji was finally treating you the way you deserved, making you this happy and bubbly, then he would step back. To you, Sukuna was just a friend. A safe space.

And he would keep it that way. You were his friend. Nothing more.

"Ryo? Are you even listening to me?" your voice broke through his swirling thoughts.

He cleared his throat hastily, blinking. "Yeah. What?"

"We're almost at my house" you pointed out gently.

Sukuna quickly slowed the jeep down, realizing he had almost driven right past your street. A part of him wished he could just keep driving, getting lost in the rain with you in the passenger seat. He pulled the vehicle up to the curb in front of the massive Zenin estate and put it in park.

"Look at that, now you're the one lost in your own head" you teased, turning your body to face him. You reached out, gently patting the back of his hand. "Take care of yourself, Ryo. Bye."

With a final, warm smile, you opened the door and stepped out into the rain, leaving the man alone in a car that suddenly felt entirely too empty.

Sukuna sat frozen, his eyes locked onto your retreating figure as you walked up the driveway. The graceful sway of your hips, the way your hair bounced against your shoulders it was mesmerizing.

Reaching the porch, you glanced over your shoulder. Seeing that his jeep was still idling at the curb, you flashed him one last wave. The moment you turned to open the front door, the jeep finally pulled away into the rainy night.

You quickly stepped inside, shaking out your hair to rid it of the raindrops. The weather was turning fierce, but it matched the chaotic storm of emotions inside you.

"Y/n?"

Toji's deep, gravelly voice echoed through the hallway, making you flinch slightly. You looked up to see him walking out of the living room. To your surprise, he was still fully dressed in his work attire a crisp white button-down shirt, a loosened black tie, and tailored slacks.

"Oh, hey" you said softly, kicking off your heels and holding them in your hand. "Aren't you home too early?"

"The meeting wrapped up ahead of schedule, so I just came straight back. Got here about ten minutes ago" Toji explained, his eyes tracking your movements as you walked past him barefoot toward the kitchen. "The girl babysitting Megumi told me you went out to see your friend, so I didn't want to text and bother you."

"Yeah, I was with Shoko" you murmured, setting your keys on the counter. "I needed to go pay Tsumiki extra for staying late..."

"Don't worry about it, I already handled it" Toji said, following you into the kitchen. He reached up, casually pulling his tie over his head with one hand and tossing it onto a chair. "I called her a cab, paid for it, and gave her a generous tip."

You turned around, surprised by the gesture. "Thank you, Toji."

"For what?" he chuckled lowly. He stepped into your personal space, his large hands immediately reaching for the buttons of his shirt. Your eyes instinctively tracked the movement, your gaze flickering down toward his chest and the sharp lines of his crotch before you forced your eyes back up to his face.

Letting out a quiet breath, you turned back toward the refrigerator to hide your flushed face. But before you could open it, Toji's powerful arms wrapped securely around your waist from behind. He squeezed gently, pulling your back flush against his broad, solid chest. You felt the heat radiating off him as he leaned down, burying his face in the crook of your neck to press a soft, lingering kiss against your skin.

Your eyes fluttered shut, a quiet shiver running down your spine. "Ry-Toji," you corrected yourself instantly, a cold sweat breaking out at the near-slip of Sukuna's name. Fortunately, Toji was far too engrossed in the scent of your skin to notice the stutter.

"Yeah?" he murmured against your neck. "Don't you want to move back into my room?"

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering against your ribs. "What exactly are your intentions here, Toji?"

Toji paused, his lips leaving your skin as he gently turned you around in his arms so you were facing him. He looked down into your eyes with a rare, striking sincerity. "There are no hidden intentions, Y/n. I just seriously want to get along with my wife. That's it. I don't want this divorce to happen. I am completely serious about us."

Looking into his dark eyes, you felt a familiar wall inside you begin to crumble. You wanted so badly to believe him. After all, you had always been entirely too good at believing the things you desperately wished were true.

"Alright then" you whispered softly.

A massive, triumphant smirk broke across Toji's face.

"How about you sleep in my room tonight? It's bigger anyway" he suggested, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. "Then, after the preschool function tomorrow, we can start shifting all of your things back into my room permanently. What do you think?"

You let out a breathy chuckle, the lingering doubts fading into the background. "Sure, Toji." You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning up on your tiptoes to press a sweet kiss against his cheek.

Toji’s grin widened, a genuine sense of warmth settling over him. It had been a long time since he had last thought about her. His late wife had been his entire world, and he knew he had been an absolute bastard to you, constantly comparing you to a ghost. But standing here in the kitchen, watching the light catch your features, he felt a sudden, fierce wave of protectiveness. You were his wife. You belonged to him.

He knew he needed to fix himself. Maybe he'd actually look into therapy, even if the mere thought of it felt entirely ridiculous for a man like him. Whatever it took to treat you the way you deserved, he was willing to try. He wanted a real future for Megumi, for you, and for himself.

Hours later, you lay awake, staring blankly up at the dark bedroom ceiling. Beside you, Toji was sleeping peacefully, his heavy arm thrown protectively over your waist, his low, rhythmic snoring filling the quiet room.

Try as you might, sleep simply wouldn't come. Maybe it was the snoring, or maybe it was the absolute chaos of thoughts racing through your mind. You were officially giving Toji a second chance a real, definitive one. Tomorrow, after the date at that beautiful restaurant, everything was supposed to change. You were finally going to have the husband you had spent years longing for, and the perfect family you had always dreamed of building.

Yet, as you lay there in the dark, enveloped by his warmth, you couldn't ignore the faint, lingering emptiness echoing deep inside your heart.

Part 16 >

1989-taylors @preeyas-world @alebrasil0101 @thebiggestsimpoutthere @abstwooface333 @playboysfavgirl @nooshie11037 @knotnatural @turtlevlogsworld @ayatoescvmjar @bubieebup @camelliablossomss @megxmixtm @wgucigu @youngpresenceraven @arishamaika @aldana222 @soundlygrimnomad @claerysa @imagine-lx2 @pandasquidattack @tenkosimp @rxbnn2k @bigmama18 @xadenpoop @soundlygrimnoma. @emoedgylord @soundlygrimnomad @vix808

for the past hour and a half, you’ve been helping sukuna pluck away thick globs of blue frosting from his hair, sliding them down across the strands onto a bowl next to you. you’d been sitting in what you’d consider a peaceful silence, the sound of someone’s music playing in the background. he’s quite nice when he’s not being a dick, allowing you to pull on his hair (even when he knows it’s not because of the frosting) as much as you feel like without protest.

the apology took you off guard, if only for a second. you blinked slowly, wiping your sticky fingers off on a wet napkin. thinking about how to respond to him. he sounded sincere, for the most part. still, was sincere truly enough for all the shit he’s done?

“i wish you hadn’t punched the shit out of gojo tonight—” a weary sigh leaves your lips before you continue, “but i understand why you did. it wasn’t his place to say the stuff he did.”

sukuna shakes his head, “nah, not just for the baby shower. for everything,” he takes a moment to pause. all of the thoughts in his head are jumbled up, each one on the tip of his tongue, and yet unable to come out. but he figures it’s worth a shot to continue, if only for you. if only to get you to understand how bad he feels.

“the last apology i said to you was out of jealousy, ‘cause i was bitter about gojo, which i mean look how that ended,” sukuna lets out a strained chuckle, only to immediately shut up when you shoot a glare in his direction. “okay, too soon, too soon, my bad. anyways, i’m sorry. for everything.

“for being an asshole and tossing money at you to get rid of it ‘cause i was scared. for coming into your life whenever i wanted to, not when y’needed it. for ruining your baby shower, you should’ve had a day where you weren’t stressed the fuck out. just, fuck, i’m a mess, and i don’t deserve you.”

but i want to lingers on the tip of his tongue, in the air, but remains unsaid. he doesn’t think he deserves saying that, not after he took the chance you’d given him and body slammed it onto a plastic table.

and still, sukuna doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to change so badly for someone. not when his parents asked him to take out his piercings, to be more like jin, not when yoruzu asked him to settle down for a relationship, to pay more attention to her instead of a hookup arrangement. and yet, he finds himself wanting to be someone you’d like. someone who’d be worthy to be by your side raising a kid.

but, what does that all matter if he hasn’t shown anything to prove it?

you throat bobs, swallowing thickly, looking down to see his gaze already boring into your own. it’s the most vulnerable you’ve seen him look as of yet, almost as if he’s bracing himself for rejection. “i wasn’t expecting you to be a good dad off the jump, shocking, i know.

“but i wanted you to try. or at least try to offer something more than ‘just get rid of it.’ i was scared too, i didn’t know what the fuck i was doing, and i just... really would’ve liked to have some help. but i appreciate your apology, i guess.” you finish up with sliding off frosting off his hair, giving your hands one final swipe before standing up.

you can’t bring yourself to forgive him just off one apology, just one genuine i’m sorry just yet, so you don’t say it. you don’t promise it.

the clock on the wall read 12:45 am, an exhausted sigh leaving your lips. the walk back to your dorm wasn’t something you were quite looking forward to, your feet still aching despite getting a reprieve during the time you’ve been here. but you needed to get home—needed to rest properly and get some sleep.

sukuna noticed the tired look on your face, placing a hand on your shoulder. the touch is tentative, testing how much he can get away with, but it feels oddly soothing. “you, uh, you wanna stay the night?”

even if it was the last thing you wanted, you knew you needed to be alone. to figure out who you were and what you wanted without any of the two coming to interfere. so you shook your head, grabbing your bag from the couch downstairs. “i think i should just head home.”

“let me take you home, then. can’t have you walking around at one in the morning.” you don’t have it in yourself to argue, nodding along. sliding your shoes on, you follow behind. sukuna’s already standing by the passenger door, opening the door.

you take a seat, buckling yourself in while he’s walking around the back. the car’s interior is well maintained, you can tell that much. it smells like cedar wood, an expensive air freshener on the ac’s vent. the leather’s smooth underneath your fingertips, shining like he’d just polished it earlier.

sukuna buckles himself in, adjusting the rearview mirror before placing a hand on the back of your seat. the scent of his cologne engulfs you completely, your thighs pressing together. it shouldn’t be as hot as it is—but damn it. his gaze’s turned to the back mirror on the side, one hand on the wheel and other on the shift as he backs out of the parking space with ease.

deep breath in, deep breath out. he’s still not forgiven just because he looks hot backing out of a space. absolutely not. you settle for looking out the mirror, the streets completely empty at this time of the night. everyone was either already at home or didn’t plan on getting home until the next morning.

signs blurred into simple white specks in late hours of the night, few other cars sharing the road down the freeway. sukuna, surprisingly, wasn’t entertaining any attempts at a late night race or speeding past 40. the last thing he wanted was to put you in danger, to make you feel unsafe.

your eyes slowly started to flutter shut, head leaned against the window. the warm ac wrapped around you like a blanket, only making you all that much sleepier. the day had finally started to take its toll on you, “go to sleep, still got a couple minutes before we get there.” that’s the last thing you hear before you’ve conked out.

sukuna almost feels guilty waking you up. he’s been sitting on idle for the past ten minutes, watching you sleep (he’s aware how creepy that is, yes). but you seem more at ease than he’s ever seen you—lashes fluttering against your cheeks, lips parted with each snore that leaves your lips. he wants nothing more than to take you back to the frat house.

but alas, he finds himself lightly shaking your arm. “hey, wake up, we’re here,” he calls out, gently coaxing you out of your sleep. as gently as he could, anyways. you don’t stir—only giving him a loud snore in response. a small chuckle leaves his lips, his fingers shaking you just a bit harder.

“come on, get up. can’t sleep in my car.”

you slowly begin to stir, an ache in your neck starting to settle in from the awkward angle you’d been sleeping in. it only takes one look out the window to make you realize you’re finally at the dorms, a couple lights still flickered on at late hours of the night. probably will continue to be on as night begins to bleed into day. “thank you for the ride,” you mumble, rubbing a hand over your face.

face.

taking your bag and unbuckling your seatbelt, you start to get out of the car. the nap had left more tired than refreshed, the only thing on your mind is taking off your obnoxious heels and getting into bed. though, you don’t manage to get far when you feel his hand wrap around your wrist.

“call me if you need anything,” sukuna speaks up before you close the car door behind you, leaning over the seat to face you. “‘m serious too. pickles or ice cream at two am, i’ll get them for you. a ride or.. just anything you need. trying to be there for you.”

you give him a smile that gives him a bloom of hope, like a dog that’s been thrown a stick. it’s better than any high, really. “i’ll keep that in mind, thank you.”

the roar of his engine doesn’t start back up until you’re safely inside, his car peeling off the parking lot when you step in through the doors. shoko’s awake when you make your way into the room, back turned towards you while she taps away on her laptop.

she pretends not to notice you, but you see the way she looks at you from the corner of her eye. you slip your shoes off at the door, getting ready to take everything off and go to bed. “are you okay?” she speaks up, not bothering to question why you came in so late. you appreciated that much.

“yeah, i’m okay. thank you,” you respond, sliding underneath your blankets. they’re still not warm enough yet but you relax anyways, relaxed again in the comfort of your dorm. you’re about to doze off when you hear shoko speak again, “i’m here for you if you need anything. i’m your friend before i’m gojo’s.”

the weeks passed from fall into winter, and you hadn’t called him. hadn’t called gojo either.

it was no secret at this rate that sukuna was the father of your baby, nearly everyone on campus having heard about the baby shower fiasco by now. it didn’t take much to connect two dots. if the stares were bad beforehand, now they were even worse. whispers about ‘is sukuna even the father?’ ‘no way, she’s probably lying’ following every room you stepped into.

sorority girls who’d been with him prior now look at you in jealousy, some in disbelief. probably wondering why they didn’t go the same route. probably wondering if that’s what they had to do to get him in their beds again. you take onto speed-walking (it looks like a waddle) through the halls to the best of your ability, sitting in the back of lectures to avoid any unnecessary attention.

it doesn’t really work. what you don’t hear in the form of a whisper, of a rumor spreading around, comes to you on your phone. whether it be on the school’s yikyak page or some stupid ‘tea page’ on instagram (what were you? in middle school?), there never failed to be some post. they were never naming you, never naming sukuna or even gojo, but they always involved you.

still, you don’t try to dispute it. you’re already worn down to the bone, not nearly getting enough sleep. it’s awkward finding a position to lay in, belly getting in the way when you’re on your sides. so you settle for sprawling out like a starfish, hoping that sleep comes to you the longer you look at the ceiling. and that doesn’t even count the amount of assignments you’ve missed during appointments, missed lecture powerpoints.

it takes a while to catch back up on what you’ve missed, spending more than normal hunched over a computer and typing out papers until your fingers went numb and the words blurred into one mess on your screen. but, you were finally starting to get your grades back, starting to get back to what you’d consider the normal before your pregnancy.

while sukuna had been respectful of your need for distance, no longer trying to appear into your life just for his own benefit, the same could not be said for gojo satoru. he was nothing if not relentless, you had to admit that much.

he’d linger around your building despite having no business being there (and despite that his was a ten minute walk away on a good day), waiting for you to come out. waiting for you to even give him a glimpse, a small smile that showed you weren’t completely pissed off. he never got that much.

gojo had resorted to following you into the library, pretending to be engrossed in an astrophysics textbook (its upside down) when you did happen to look over. he never did try to approach you, he didn’t want to see you that angry again. but he lingered, close enough for you to notice but never enough for you to get angry.

the last thing that he needed was for you to completely cut him off.

as the weeks went by, you quickly started to realize that you’re completely unprepared in terms of being ready to have a kid. you’d grown dependent on finding comfort in satoru, in trying to replace sukuna with him, that you’d foregone finding comfort in being alone, in being okay with having to do this by yourself.

satoru been providing the money that you needed for your appointments, for food, for almost nearly every necessity you had, that now you almost found yourself completely lost without him. you were making ends meet, barely but still. every appointment, every book, drained your savings account little by little until you essentially only had hopes and a dream.

your friends, bless them, you knew that they’d help you out whenever they could in what you needed, that you could depend on them to be there in a time of need. but it wasn’t something stable, it wasn’t something you wanted to be reliant upon. and it wasn’t a burden you wanted to impose, it wasn’t their responsibility to carry.

so you decided to try to get employment.

which was easier said than done for a college student with more academic achievements than actual work experience (apart from the volunteer work you did in high school) in a dwindling job market. much less a pregnant college student in her second trimester.

the odds really weren’t on your side, huh?

but you were determined. browsing through your school’s database first, trying to find any on campus jobs that were still available halfway into the semester. scrolling through the financial aid assistant, work-study programs, only to find that they’re all full when you’re about to apply. and the ones that are open, refuse to hire you.

based on a video circulating around, the video of you tossing a plate of cupcakes onto sukuna ryomen’s face. not exactly your most formidable moment, but they weren’t exactly keen on listening to your excuses about your baby daddy angering you.

about how you were (somewhat) cool now, which was a great example of conflict resolution. a quality worth exploring.

so on campus was out of the table—now came trying to find them in whatever shop or restaurant had an open position.

which was just as fruitless of a search as trying to find employment on your school’s campus. you’d tried an online job search first, scrolling through what was supposed to be the ‘entry level positions’ only to find neurosurgeon, registered nurse, physical therapist as the top results.

so that was a flop on the website.

you resorted to applying to the first position that popped up on your screen, filling out your name for what seemed to be a couple hundred times. and for each couple hundred times that you applied, each couple hundred times that you got rejected. or just plain old ignored.

you weren’t sure which one was quite worse at this rate.

hearing ‘thank you for applying! unfortunately the position that you are applying for has already been filled…’ or seeing the time on your application go out.

“hey, are you still trying to find a job?” shoko speaks up from her side of the dorm, turning to look at you over her shoulder.

your angel in scrubs with a cigarette. you nod your head, looking away from your computer. another rejection email on your screen, something about not being qualified enough. for a stocking position. the sight is nothing if not disappointing. “yeah, i haven’t been having a lot of luck lately.”

shoko merely lets out a hum. “nanami’s working at a bakery and they’re needing someone to be a barista. he says the job’s super simple, i could put in a word for you,” she offers simply,

“please.”

you get a call from nanami about three days later, asking when’s the soonest you could start working. you show up the next day, twenty minutes before he told you to arrive. he’s already there when you show up, immediately getting down to the thick of it.

“as i’m sure shoko told you, the job isn’t hard. you’ll be working on afternoons so you shouldn’t have to be dealing with many people, but you will have to clean up and close for the night,” nanami starts off, gesturing for you to follow. he leads you through the establishment, the air inside of the cafe cozy and calm. the scent of coffee beans settles thickly in the air, lo-fi beats playing in the background for a relaxing atmosphere.

“—and this right here is our coffee maker.”

the machine in front of you had about fifty different buttons on how to make a cup of coffee—all from espressos, frappes, to simple, black brews. nanami was nothing if not patient when he went through each of the functions, explaining how each drink on the menu was made. on how many beans to pour onto the brew, how much milk, and how to grind up the ice.

you’d figure it out as you went, you’re sure of it. “and i’m not trying to doubt your ability to do your job, but if you do ever find yourself getting tired, pull up one of the chairs in the back,” nanami suddenly brings up, his attention solely on the growing bump on your stomach, “and if you need to leave, just find someone to cover your shift.”

you find yourself nodding along, “i’ll do that. i appreciate you giving me this opportunity,” you assure, doing quick work of tying your apron in the back. nanami gives you a curt nod before he leaves, leaving you to handle the counter by yourself.

your first day was what you’d qualify a disaster, a learning disaster, but a disaster nonetheless. you’d managed to put an extra foam setting on the machine, white froth spilling onto the counter and floors that took forever to finish wiping down. you’d managed to mess up three customer’s orders in the span of two hours (but you learned what the difference between an americano and latte is, so bonus).

nanami hadn’t commented anything, so you assume you did decent enough. if only with a few screw ups. so you return the next day after class, the shift running much more smoothly than you expected.

as the days go by, the job itself has been simple enough—making coffee for the few customers that happen to trickle in at late hours of the afternoon, wiping down the counters and cleaning down any stains before closing for the night.

today, however, things were really starting to become a mess. even more than when you first started. more and more people decided to walk into the coffee shop tonight (now that finals were coming up), and the machine had decided to sputter and fail. only drooping a single drop of brown elixir before ultimately giving up.

it took you about thirty minutes to figure out how to fix it, how to unclog a stupid filter, and even more to deal with a line that was threatening to go out the front door. just when you’re about to catch a breather, when you’ve just finished handing the last order in that mess, someone manages to spill their entire cup on the floor.

and just when you manage to clean off the mess clinging onto the once pristine white floors, you watch your bus zoom past without so much as waiting a few seconds to see if you’d come out. you’ve missed the last bus of the night, leaving you with little options on how to get home when you finish closing up.

you’re run ragged, aching and tired, and you can’t bring yourself to walk back home. so you do what anybody else would do in this situation—grab your phone and call the first person that appears. it rings once before they answer with a gruff, “hey.”

“hey, can you come pick me up?”

sorry for another poll, wanted to get ur thoughts :p

The summer heat clung to everything in the Itadori house like a second skin, thick and unrelenting. You kicked off your sneakers at the genkan the second you stepped inside while already calling out the familiar "Tadaimaaa!" even though this wasn’t technically your home. It might as well have been.

Jin’s warm “Okaeri!” floated from the kitchen and followed by the comforting clatter of a knife against a cutting board. You padded into the living room on socked feet while expecting to find Yuji sprawled on the couch with a manga or more likely half-asleep with his mouth open and drooling on the remote. Instead, your gaze snagged on broad shoulders with the black ink curling over tanned skin like spilled midnight, and the low, but lazy sprawl of Ryomen Sukuna occupying the entire sofa like he owned the damn planet.

He was wearing those stupid gray basketball shorts again, the ones that rode dangerously high on thick thighs whenever he shifted, and a black tank top so thin it might as well have been painted on. One arm was slung over the backrest while the other cradled a cold beer bottle against his abs.

The condensation dripped slowly down the glass and tracing a glistening path over one of the dark tattoos that wrapped his oblique. You hated how your eyes followed that droplet for half a second too long.

“ Oi, brat!” He drawled without looking up from his phone.

“ The stray kitten’s back.”

You bristled instantly. “ I have a name, asshole.”

“ Yeah. And I still don’t care.” Finally, those crimson eyes flicked up.

“ Are you gonna stand there gawking all day or actually come inside?”

“ I’m not gawking.” You snapped but your cheeks were already heating and your body was traitorous.

“ I’m looking for Yuji.”

“ He’s in the shower. Probably jerking off to that new idol PV again.”

“ Sukuna!” Yuji’s indignant yell echoed down the hallway before he even appeared while the towel slung around his neck and hair dripped pink strands onto his shoulders.

“ Stop saying gross shit to her!”

Sukuna smirked, slow and filthy. “ I’m just stating facts, brat. You’re the one getting defensive.”

You crossed your arms and tried to look unaffected. “ Whatever. I’m stealing your onigiri stash, Yuji.”

“ Already in the fridge.” Yuji grinned while trotting over to sling an arm around your shoulders like he’d done since you were both seven and he was still shorter than you.

“ Dad made extra salmon ones ‘cause he knew you’d show up.”

You leaned into him automatically and the easy familiarity ground you while Yuji smelled like citrus body wash and home.

Sukuna watched the whole exchange with half-lidded eyes, lips curling. “ Cute. Real domestic. You two gonna start braiding each other’s hair next?”

“ Jealous?” You shot back before you could stop yourself.

Big mistake.

The air changed when Sukuna set the beer down with deliberate slowness while his muscles shifted under skin like coiled pythons waking up. He rose and stalked toward you both with the lazy prowl of something that knew it was apex.

Yuji stiffened beside you. “ Hey. Back off.”

Sukuna ignored him completely. He stopped just close enough that you had to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. Heat rolled off him in waves like a summer sweat and cedar and something darker like something that made your pulse kick hard against your throat.

“ You're still so easy to rile up.” He murmured with his voice low enough that it felt private even with Yuji right there.

“ Look at you…already blushing like a virgin schoolgirl.”

“ I’m not…” Your voice cracked. Mortifying.

He leaned in another fraction and close enough you could count the silver ring in his bottom lip. “ Liar.”

Yuji shoved between you two so fast you stumbled back a step. “ I said back off, Sukuna!”

Sukuna’s chuckle was dark velvet. “ Protective little brother. How noble.”

Then, without warning, he hooked an arm around Yuji’s neck in a mockery of a headlock but gentle enough not to actually hurt and firm enough to make Yuji squawk.

“ Sukuna!”

“ Relax, pinky. I’m not gonna eat your precious best friend.” He ruffled Yuji’s wet hair hard enough to make him yelp, then shoved him sideways while Yuji’s shoulder clipped the wall with a dramatic thud.

“ Ow! You dick!”

You rounded on Sukuna as your fists clenched. “ You’re such a…”

He caught your incoming punch mid-air like it weighed nothing then fingers wrapping around your wrist. Not tight, just…there.

Your breath hitched when he tugged you forward one tiny step, but not enough to press you against him. Just enough to make you feel the gravity well of his body heat.

“ Careful, kitten.” He said softly and almost sweetly.

“ Keep swinging at me like that and I might start thinking you want my hands on you.”

Your mouth went dry.

Yuji was already scrambling back to his feet while whining. “ Sukuna, I swear—”

Sukuna didn’t look away from you. He lifted his free hand then his thumb brushing the center of your forehead in the lightest flick and a sharp sting bloomed instantly.

“ Ow!”

He released your wrist like he’d never held it at all and stepped back while smirking. “ See? Easy."

You rubbed the spot furiously and glaring murder, but your heart was trying to crawl up your throat and out your mouth.

Yuji grabbed your shoulders from behind and pulled you against his chest protectively. “ Stop being a creep to my best friend, you overgrown tattooed bastard!”

Sukuna rolled his eyes so hard it was audible. “ She’s not five anymore, idiot. She can handle a little teasing.”

His gaze slid back to you. “ Can you?”

You swallowed. “ I hate you.”

“ Yeah?” He tilted his head then his smile went razor-sharp.

“ Keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day you’ll believe it.”

He turned and sauntered toward the hallway while his broad back flexed under the tank top like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. At the threshold he paused then glanced over his tattooed shoulder.

“ By the way…” He added casually.

“ Next time you stare at my abs that long? I’m gonna start charging admission.”

Your face went nuclear.

Yuji groaned into your hair. “ I’m gonna kill him one day.”

You didn’t answer. Because beneath the embarrassment or beneath the fury like something hotter and more dangerous had taken root in your chest, and it had sharp teeth and crimson eyes and it was not going away anytime soon. Sukuna disappeared down the hall as the living room felt colder without him in it and you hated that most of all.

…

The late afternoon sun slanted through the living room windows in lazy gold bars while turning the dust motes into tiny fireflies. You were cross-legged on the floor helping Yuji sort through the mountain of takeout bags Jin had just dumped on the coffee table of karaage, yakitori, gyoza, tempura shrimp, and the works. The smell of hot oil and soy sauce was already making your stomach growl like an impatient dog.

Jin kicked off his work shoes at the genkan and padded in, loosening his tie with one hand. “ I’m home. I brought enough to feed an army or at least my three overgrown kids.”

Yuji perked up like a golden retriever. “ Dad! You’re the best!”

Jin ruffled his son’s hair, then glanced around. “ Where’s your brother?”

Yuji’s face soured instantly. “ He locked himself in his room after he shoved me into the wall and flicked her forehead like she’s a vending machine that ate his coin.”

Jin sighed, the long-suffering sound of a father who’d seen this movie a hundred times. He turned to you while his expression softened. “ Sorry about him, sweetheart. He’s got the emotional intelligence of a brick.

You shrugged and popped a stolen piece of karaage into your mouth. “ I’m used to it. He rage-baits me every time our paths cross. It’s basically his love language at this point.”

Jin barked a laugh.

“ You’ve got more patience than this one.” He jerked a thumb at Yuji.

“ These two fight over the dumbest things. Remember that time I came home and they both had black eyes?”

Yuji groaned dramatically while flopping backward onto the carpet. “ Dad, don’t…”

“ Tekken betrayal of the century.” Jin continued gleefully.

“ Sukuna beat him senseless in the game, and Yuji only realized halfway through that big bro was just mashing buttons against the CPU because the second controller wasn’t even plugged in.”

You choked on your karaage and the laughter bubbling up so hard tears pricked your eyes.

Yuji shot upright with his cheeks flaming. “ That was the worst betrayal in human history! I trusted him!”

“ You were twelve.” You wheezed.

“ It still counts!”

Jin chuckled while shaking his head. “ Stop acting like a kid, Yuji. You’re twenty-two now. It's time to be a man.”

You leaned over and stage-whispered. “ He still cries when Megumi and Nobara steal his last mochi.”

Yuji’s mouth dropped open in theatrical horror. “ I do not…okay, I did, but that was the last strawberry mochi of the day! They’re monsters! I love mochi more than I love them. It was worth the tears.”

You and Jin lost it completely while laughing until your sides hurt. Jin finally wiped his eyes and nodded toward the stairs. “ Go drag your Sukuna down here. Dinner’s getting cold, and the four of us are eating together whether he likes it or not.”

You froze mid-bite. “ Me? Why me? Yuji’s the younger brother. It's sibling jurisdiction.”

“ Yuji’s busy plating everything so it looks nice.” Jin said innocently.

“ You’re the only free operative.”

Yuji gave you puppy eyes and a thumbs-up. Traitor.

You sighed like a condemned prisoner and trudged upstairs but each step heavier than the last. Sukuna’s door loomed at the end of the hallway in black, imposing, and same as him.

You knocked three times. “ Oi, asshole. Dinner. Your dad’s orders.”

Silence.

You knocked again, harder. “ Sukuna, I swear…”

Nothing.

You pressed your ear to the wood. A faint, rhythmic sound is slick, wet, and unmistakable. Your brain short-circuited for half a second before you jerked back while your face was burning.

Nope. Nope nope nope. You were not hearing what you thought you were hearing.

You knocked one last time but still no answer.

“ Fine.” You muttered.

“ You asked for it.”

The knob turned easily. It's unlocked and a big mistake on his part.

You shoved the door open. “ Look, if you’re gonna sulk like a…”

The scream tore out of you before you could stop it. Sukuna was sprawled on his bed, completely naked, and sheets kicked to the floor. His hand was wrapped around his cock that was thick, flushed, and angrily hard and curved against the ridged plane of his abdomen while his tattoos snaked down his hips like dark promises.

His eyes snapped to you and wide with shock for maybe one entire heartbeat then he moved. He lurched off the bed so fast he stumbled while cursing under his breath. In two strides he was at the door then slamming it shut behind you and pinning you against the wood with the sheer size of his body.

One massive hand clamped over your mouth with the same hand that had just been—

Your eyes went huge because you tasted salt and skin and something musky that made your knees threaten to give out. He bent at the waist while keeping his erection from brushing your stomach, but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off it.

His voice was low and gravel-rough. “ Scream like that again and the whole house hears. Nod if you’re gonna be quiet.”

You nodded frantically then he eased his palm away while you sucked in air like you’d been drowning.

“ Put…put some damn clothes on!” You hissed then slapping both hands over your eyes.

A low, dark chuckle as the fabric rustled. “ You can look now, princess.”

You peeked through your fingers. He's wearing his gray basketball shorts but still shirtless. His cock still visibly straining against the thin material like it had personal beef with gravity.

You dropped your hands and glared at the ceiling. “ What the hell were you doing?”

He leaned one shoulder against the doorframe while crossing his arms so his biceps bulged. “ What do normal men do when they’re alone and horny? Use your imagination.”

“ You’re disgusting.”

“ And you’re a pervert.” He tilted his head.

“ You were barging into my room without waiting for permission. What, are you part of some special task force now?”

“ I knocked! Three times!”

“ You should’ve waited like a good girl.”

You groaned then rubbing your temples. “ I’m not innocent anymore. Thanks to you and your…”

You gestured wildly at his crotch. “ That.”

He stepped closer. “ You’re still untouched and still innocent. You are just dramatic.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt. “ Whatever. Your dad and Yuji are waiting. Dinner. All four of us. Move your ass.”

You turned to leave. His hand shot out, not grabbing your wrist this time, and just brushing the small of your back as you passed. You froze for half a second when he leaned down until his mouth was near your ear with his voice a velvet threat.

“ You just gave me the worst case of blue balls in recorded history, kitten. You interrupted me right at the edge.”

Your breath caught.

He continued. “ You owe me, and I collect debts.”

You shoved the door open and fled down the hallway without looking back while your heart was hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it. Behind you, Sukuna stayed leaning against the frame and watching the spot where you’d disappeared around the corner as he dragged a hand down his face while muttering a low and filthy curse.

“ Fuck.”

He glanced down at the tent in his shorts since he's still painfully hard.

“ Soon.” He promised the empty room.

“ You’re gonna pay that debt, and I’m gonna enjoy every second of it.”

Downstairs, Yuji called your name cheerfully while you forced a smile, sat at the table, and tried very hard not to think about the way Sukuna’s voice had curled around the word “soon” like smoke.

Dinner was going to be torture.

…

Days blurred into a sticky and uncomfortable haze after That Incident. You couldn’t unsee it and couldn’t un-remember. Sukuna’s cock had burned itself into the back of your eyelids with photographic cruelty. You’d be mid-lecture in class, pen hovering over notes, and bam, a flash of pink flesh slapping against tattooed abs. You’d flinch so hard your knee would bang the desk.

Today was no exception.

You, Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi were crammed around the low table in the school library’s group study corner while the textbooks splayed open like fallen soldiers. Midterms loomed like a guillotine. Nobara was viciously underlining kanji while Megumi stared at his notes like they personally offended him. Yuji was chewing the end of his pencil into splinters.

You were trying to focus on the quadratic formula when the memory hit again about the nine inches or more of shameless girth.

Your whole body jerked.

Nobara’s pen froze. “ The hell was that?”

Yuji blinked at you, wide-eyed. “ Are you okay? You look like you saw a curse.”

Megumi lifted one unimpressed brow. “ You’ve been doing that all week. What’s wrong with you?”

“ Nothing.” You squeaked, but voice cracking like a middle-schooler’s.

“ It's just…math. Math is scary.”

They all stared.

You buried your face in your hands. “ Shut up. Let’s just finish this chapter.”

The walk to Yuji’s house after school felt longer than usual. Every time a tall guy with broad shoulders passed by on the sidewalk, your heart lurched like it was trying to escape your ribcage while you kept your eyes glued to the pavement. When you finally stepped inside the familiar genkan, kicking off your shoes, the house smelled like laundry detergent and whatever Jin was simmering in the kitchen.

It's safe and normal.

Except Sukuna was there.

He lounged against the kitchen doorway in nothing but low-slung black sweats and a white wifebeater stretched tight across his chest with his arms crossed while watching you like a cat that had already eaten the canary and was debating dessert. His crimson eyes tracked every flustered twitch of your expression. He didn’t say a word but the slow curl of his mouth said everything.

You glared daggers. Don’t you dare.

He just tilted his head.

Yuji bounded in behind you. “ I gotta run back to school real quick…Nobara’s gonna skin me alive if I don’t give her that stupid pouch back. I forgot it in my locker earlier.”

You grabbed his sleeve. “ Hurry back, please.”

He grinned while ruffling your hair until it stuck up in every direction. “ I will! Ten minutes, tops. Don’t let Sukuna bully you too much while I’m gone.”

Then he was gone and the door clicking shut behind him.

Silence settled like humidity.

You huffed, dropped your bag by the couch, and flopped down at the low table where all your group project materials were still scattered from last weekend of construction paper, glue sticks, markers, and a metal ruler glinting innocently in the afternoon light.

You reached for it automatically while needing something to fidget with. The second your fingers closed around the cool metal when the memory slammed back.

A thick shaft measured against your horrified palm with Sukuna’s smug voice murmuring numbers like it was casual conversation.

You yelped and flung the ruler across the room like it had bitten you and it clattered against the wall until aheavy footsteps thudded down the stairs. Sukuna appeared at the bottom, step fresh from the shower while his hair damp and pushed back, and skin still glistening at his collarbones. A towel was slung over one shoulder as he looked down at you then sprawled on the floor clutching your chest like you’d been shot.

“ You look like shit.” He observed.

“ Shut up.” You hissed.

He ignored you completely and dropped onto the couch right beside you while the cushions dipped under his weight.

You shoved at his shoulder. “ There’s a whole other couch, you giant!”

He didn’t budge. He just smirked. “ I like this one.”

“ You’re not small enough to share it!”

His eyes glittered. “ I've never been small, kitten.”

Your face ignited. You smacked his bicep hard but his muscle barely flexed. He laughed and the sound vibrated through where your bodies touched then his gaze slid sideways and landed on the ruler you’d thrown. He reached down then picked it up with two fingers like it was evidence, and held it between you both.

“ Nine.” He said conversationally.

You choked. “ What?”

“ Nine inches.” He tapped the metal against his palm.

“ Thick and heavy when it’s hard. You already know.”

Heat roared up your neck. “ Why the fuck would you just…tell me that?!”

He shrugged. “ I figured you deserved the full specs as a friend.”

“ That is the most useless information anyone has ever forced on me.”

Another shrug. “ It will never be useless. One good shot of my swimmers and boom…someone’s knocked up. Biology lesson, free of charge.”

You hit him again harder but he just laughed louder.

“ I’m not lying.” He added, but softer now.

“ It’s nine. Wanna double-check?”

Your mouth went dry. “ I don’t believe you.”

Big mistake.

He chuckled and without breaking eye contact then hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats and dragged them down just enough. His cock sprang free and already half-hard while slapping heavily against the white fabric still stretched over his abs.

You gasped so loud it echoed then your hands flew to cover your eyes. Sukuna caught your right wrist, gentle but unyielding, and tugged it down until your palm hovered an inch from the ruler he’d laid alongside his length.

“ Look.” He murmured.

You couldn’t not look.

The ruler’s markings lined up perfectly in nine inches or maybe a hair over. The girth made the numbers look almost comical. He released your hand as you jerked back like you’d been burned as he tucked himself away with casual efficiency while the waistband snapping back into place, then dropped his head against the couch cushions like he’d just finished reading the newspaper.

You stared at him with your mouth open as your brain short-circuited. “ You're a monster.”

He smirked without opening his eyes. “ Yes, my cock is a real monster.”

You shoved him again but he laughed then he cracked one eye open while his gaze sliding over your burning face and to your heaving chest.

“ I'm already hard again.” He said, but almost thoughtful.

“ I guess I’ll have to take care of it.”

Your breath hitched.

He stretched as his arms flexed and tattoos shifted like living shadows. “ I hope no one interrupts me this time.”

He stood and let you feel every inch of the space he’d occupied. At the foot of the stairs he paused, glanced back over his shoulder.

“ The door's unlocked...” He said.

“ If you get curious.”

Then he was gone as the footsteps fading up the stairs. You sat there while your heart was slamming against your ribs and thighs pressed together so tight they trembled. The ruler lay abandoned on the floor like a crime scene exhibit as you stared at it.

Nine inches and you were never going to survive this house.

…

The clock on the wall ticked past midnight and each second louder than the last in the quiet Itadori house. Yuji was dead to the world on the couch while his one arm flung over his face and soft snores rumbling every few breaths. The construction paper, glue, and half-finished poster boards littered the low table like the aftermath of a craft explosion. You rubbed your eyes, neck stiff, and stomach snarling like an angry cat.

“ Fine.” You muttered while pushing to your feet.

“ Snack break.”

The kitchen was dark except for the weak glow of the fridge light when you opened it as the cold air washed over your bare legs in your sleep shorts and an oversized tee you’d borrowed from Yuji years ago. You bent at the waist while rummaging past leftover karaage and a questionable yogurt and hunting for anything edible and quiet.

A shadow shifted behind you.

Before you could scream, a hard body slammed you forward and pinning your chest to the cold fridge door. One massive hand clamped over your mouth; the other braced beside your head and caged you in.

Your eyes flew wide.

A crimson and glowing faintly in the dim light.

Sukuna.

You shoved at his chest but it was useless but he didn’t budge.

He leaned in until his lips brushed your ear. “ Quiet, kitten. Wouldn’t want to wake the sleeping hero, would we?”

You wrenched your head sideways and voice a furious whisper against his palm. “ What the hell are you doing?”

He eased his hand off your mouth but kept you pinned. “ I'm hungry.”

You glanced back at the fridge contents. “ There’s…food. Right here.”

He groaned low in his throat, but the sound vibrated through your back. “ I'm not hungry for food.”

Your brows shot up. “ Then what…”

His gaze dropped to your mouth, then lowered before snapping back to your eyes. “ You.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

Before you could process, he spun you around then lifted you like you weighed nothing and slung you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

Your yelp was muffled against his back. “ Sukuna, put me down!”

“ Shh.” He strode through the dark house then past the living room where Yuji snored obliviously, past Jin’s closed bedroom door, and out the sliding glass door to the backyard.

The cool night air hits your skin and the moonlight silvered the grass. He carried you to the far corner where an ancient ginkgo tree spread massive branches, its trunk thick enough to hide a small clearing behind it of his secret spot. A worn outdoor mat was already spread there like he’d planned this.

He dropped you onto it but not gently.

You scrambled to sit up, heart racing. “ What are you…”

His mouth crashed onto yours in hard, hungry, and no preamble. You shoved at his shoulders but the heat of him and the way his tongue immediately pushed past your lips made your arms tremble. He tasted like mint and danger while his tongue swept yours like he's claiming then sucked hard enough to pull a whimper from your throat. He broke away just long enough to spit into your open mouth. You choked with eyes wide, but he sealed his lips over yours again and forced you to swallow.

“ Fuck.” He growled against your lips.

“ I've been starving for this.”

He caught both your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head. His free hand tilted your jaw and mouth descending to your throat. His teeth grazed skin then and the sharp sting bloomed into heat.

You winced, squirming. “ Ow!”

He sucked harder while marking you with wet, open-mouthed kisses, and leaving blooming red-purple bruises down the column of your neck. When he pulled back and satisfied with his handiwork, he hooked fingers into the hem of your shirt and ripped.

“ Hey!” You hissed but mortified.

“ That was…”

He laughed. “I’ll buy you ten more.”

Then his mouth was on you. His tongue flicked over one nipple while his fingers rolled the other. You arched involuntarily and a startled moan slipping free. The sensation was too much that made your eyes roll back. He switched sides by sucking hard enough to make your toes curl.

Then lower.

His tongue traced a slow, wet line down your stomach, and dipping into your navel that made you twitch. He shoved your shorts and panties down in one impatient yank then tossed them aside. You tried to close your legs but he wedged his shoulders between your thighs while spreading you wide.

“ Look at you…” He murmured.

“ Already dripping.”

Before you could protest, his mouth was on your cunt. He flattened his tongue and dragged it from your entrance to your clit in one long and sloppy stroke. Then he sucked your clit between his lips while flicking the tip of his tongue over it in rapid little pulses.

You cried out then slapped a hand over your own mouth. He groaned into you like he was devouring the sweetest fruit by slurping, sucking, and lapping at your slick like a man dying of thirst as the wet sounds echoed in the quiet night. Your thighs clamped around his head on instinct, heels digging into his back, and pulling him deeper. One hand released your wrist as the two thick fingers traced your slit while gathering wetness then pressed slowly inside.

You whimpered at the stretch.

He hushed you against your cunt. “ Relax, kitten. Let me in.”

He curled his fingers and searched until he found it. Your back bowed off the mat. A high and broken sound tore from your throat. He watched you the whole time as he pumped slowly while hitting that spot over and over.

The heat coiled tight in your belly.

“ Sukuna…” You gasped.

“ Cum for me.” He growled against your clit.

“ Give it to me. Your first one’s mine.”

He sucked harder and fingers crooked deeper.

You shattered as your back arched, thighs trembling, and a silent scream caught behind your teeth as pleasure ripped through you in blinding waves. Your walls fluttered and clenched around his fingers while the slick gushed over his hand. When the aftershocks faded, he pulled his fingers free and brought them to his mouth as he sucked them clean with a slow drag of his tongue. His eyes rolled back and a guttural groan vibrated in his chest.

“ Fuck.” He rasped.

“ It's the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

You lay there panting, dazed, thighs still shaking, body humming, and mind blank. He hovered over you, forearms braced on either side of your head, cock straining hard against his sweats, and a dark wet spot already blooming at the tip. Then he dragged the pad of his thumb over your swollen bottom lip.

“ We're not done yet., kitten” He murmured.

“ Not even close.”

Moonlight caught the sheen of your arousal on his chin while your heart was stuttered. Somewhere inside the house as Yuji snored, but under the ginkgo tree, the night felt endless and dangerously alive.

…

The night air was thick with the scent of ginkgo leaves and your own arousal still clinging to Sukuna’s skin. You lay flat on the outdoor mat, chest heaving, and thighs slick and trembling from the orgasm he’d ripped out of you. He hadn’t given you time to recover.

Instead, he rolled onto his side beside you and propped himself on one elbow while his crimson eyes dark and glittering in the moonlight. He watched you like a predator deciding which part to devour next. Then he shoved his sweatpants down just enough. His cock sprang free again and slapped wetly against the ridged plane of his tattooed abdomen.

The sound was obscene in the quiet backyard.

Your breath caught then he caught your wrist before you could pull away and guide your small hand to wrap around him. You gasped since he's so thick because your fingers didn’t meet while the vein along the underside throbbed against your palm like a second heartbeat.

Sukuna leaned in and lips brushed the shell of your ear. “ Give me a blow, kitten.”

Your eyes widened. “ I…I don’t know how.”

He chuckled. “ I’ll teach you.”

With easy strength he maneuvered you and settled you between his spread thighs. You knelt there with your face inches from his length while your heart was hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it. He gripped the base and playfully dragged the tip across your cheek, then laid it along the side of your face for comparison. The head reached past your temple when the shaft stretched longer than the width of your features.

“ Fuck.” He laughed.

“ It's still bigger than your whole damn face.”

He gave it a light slap against your cheek that made you whine.

“ Hey!”

“ Shh.” He thumbed your bottom lip and parting it.

“ Open."

You hesitated then obeyed as your lips parting on a shaky breath.

“ Good girl.”

He guided your head forward. You started with tentative kitten licks along the underside while tasting salt and skin.

Sukuna groaned. “ That’s not how you eat a cock, kitten. It’s not fucking ice cream.”

He fisted your hair but not hard enough to hurt, just enough to control and brought your mouth to the base.

“ Flatten your tongue and feel every vein.”

You did as you pressed the flat of your tongue against him and dragged up slowly, tracing the thick, and ridged lines. His hips twitched then another rough groan tore from his throat.

“ Like that.” He rasped.

“ Again.”

You repeated the motion but bolder now and mapping him with your tongue until he was leaking steadily against your lips.

He pulled you back to the tip. “ Open wider.”

You did.

He sank in when the fat head stretched your lips wide. You gagged almost immediately, throat fluttering, and eyes watering.

“ Breathe through your nose.” He murmured while his thumb stroked your cheek.

“ Relax your throat.”

You tried as you inhaled shakily through your nose when the scent of him filled your lungs. He started moving in shallow thrusts at first then letting you adjust and deeper. The lewd wet sounds of your mouth filled the night of glok-glok-glok every time he pushed past your soft palate.

Your hands braced on his thighs as your nails dug in. He pulled out just enough to let you gasp then slid back in. You gagged again harder when the tears spilled down your cheeks. He laid you flat on your back, shifted to straddle your chest, and knees bracketing your shoulders. One hand wrapped loosely around your throat while the other guided his cock back between your lips.

“ Look at me.” He ordered.

Your watery eyes met his then he thrust while watching the bulge form in your throat every time he bottomed out. The sight made his jaw clench and pupils blown wide.

“ Fuck.” He growled.

“ You take it so well.”

He picked up speed while the bulge appeared and disappeared rhythmically. Your throat worked around him, fluttering, and trying to accommodate. His grip on your throat tightened fractionally but just enough to feel your pulse racing under his palm.

“ I'm gonna cum.” He warned.

“ Swallow every drop. Not a fucking drop wasted.”

You whimpered around him as he slammed deep one last time then came. He's flooding your throat in heavy pulses. You swallowed reflexively, over and over, and your throat worked around the head as he groaned long and low. His hips jerked with each spurt until he was empty while twitching against your tongue.

He stayed there a moment, panting, and letting you feel the softening weight of him on your tongue. Then he pulled out slowly as the strings of saliva and cum connected your swollen lips to his tip. He swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting what had escaped, and pushed it back into your mouth.

You sucked automatically while his eyes darkened further.

“ Good girl.” He murmured.

“ You took your first load like you were made for it.”

You lay there dazed, lips puffy, chin slick, throat raw, body buzzing, and mind blank except for the taste of him still coating your tongue. He dropped down beside you again then pulled you against his chest without asking while his one arm banded around your waist then he pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your temple.

“ Don’t think we’re done.” He whispered against your hair.

“ Not even close.”

Somewhere in the house, Yuji shifted on the couch and mumbled something incoherent in his sleep. But under the tree, your heart still raced like it would never slow down and Sukuna’s hand was already sliding possessively down your spine.

…

The night had cooled, but your skin burned where Sukuna touched you. You lay boneless on the mat while chest rising and falling in uneven pants then the aftershocks of your first orgasm still rippling through your core. He hadn’t moved far but he just shifted so he could watch your face and thumb brushing lazy circles over the fresh hickeys blooming across your collarbone. Then he hooked one of your thighs over his hip and spread you wider. Your breath hitched when you felt the blunt and hot head of his cock nudge your entrance again that slick with your release and his spit, but still impossibly thick.

You swallowed hard.

This was it. The line you’d never crossed. Your best friend’s older brother and the same man who’d spent years tormenting you with smirks and teasing words. Now, he was about to—

“ Sukuna…” Your voice came out small.

“ Maybe it won’t fit. You’re…you’re so big and I’m…”

He smirked, but his eyes softened a fraction and just enough to notice. “ Everything fits, kitten. Trust me.”

He dragged the head through your folds again while coating himself and teasing your clit until your hips jerked.

“ You’re gonna enjoy every fucking inch.”

He pressed forward as the thick head breached you while the insistent stretch that made your eyes water instantly. You whimpered with your nails digging into his shoulders, and bit your lip so hard you tasted copper.

“ Shh.” He murmured against your temple while his free hand cradling the back of your head and pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

“ Breathe, kitten.”

You sobbed quietly into his skin because you're too full already and he’d barely started. He stayed perfectly still while letting your walls flutter and adjust around just the head. Every pulse of your cunt seemed to pull him deeper and greedy despite the sting.

“ Fuck.” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“ You're so goddamn tight and sucking me in like you never want me to leave.”

After long seconds or maybe a minute, he felt the tension in your thighs ease the tiniest bit. He pushed another inch. You cried out while the fresh tears slipped down your cheeks.

“ Easy.” He soothed.

“ Pain’s gonna fade. I promise.”

He kissed your hairline, your temple, and the corner of your eye while his hips rocked in the smallest, shallowest thrusts, and coaxed your body to open. Then he sank the rest in one long and unrelenting glide. Your back bowed and a broken sob tore from your throat. You shoved weakly at his chest, overwhelmed, but he caught your wrists and pinned them gently beside your head, blanketing you with his weight, and keeping every inch buried to the hilt.

“ Shh, shh…I’ve got you.” He rasped while his lips brushed your ear.

“ You’re doing so good and taking all of me like you were fucking made for it.”

Your walls pulsed around him while trying to push him out and pull him deeper at the same time. You could feel him throbbing inside you while the head kissed your cervix. He stayed like that, unmoving, until your sobs quieted to shaky breaths. Then slowly he pulled back an inch and slid home again.

You whimpered. It still hurt, but underneath the sting something warmer was building. He set a careful rhythm by deep and measured rolls of his hips that dragged every ridge along your sensitive walls. Each thrust nudged that spot inside you until the pain began melting into something else entirely.

“ Fuck…there it is.” He growled when your hips lifted to meet him.

He shifted by rising onto his forearms so he could look down at you then watch your face while he fucked you slow and deep. He dropped his head, sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your neck again, and sucking a fresh bruise while his cock pistoned in and out. You clung to him while your nails raking down his back and leaving angry red lines across tattooed muscle. Every time he bottomed out you gasped and your thighs trembled.

The pain is gone now.

He pulled out suddenly and flipped you onto your stomach.

“ Ass up.” He ordered.

You obeyed on shaky limbs. He gripped your hair in gentle but firm, then tugged your head back so he could whisper against your ear while he slammed back inside from behind.

“ Such a perfect little cunt.” He growled while his teeth grazed your earlobe.

“ You were made to take my cock and listen to how wet you are…those filthy fucking sounds.”

Skin slapped skin in loud, rhythmic, and echoing under the ginkgo branches. He fucked you harder now, hips snapping, and balls slapping your clit with every thrust.

Then he stopped.

“ Stand up.”

You whined in protest but let him pull you to your feet on trembling legs. He spun you to face the tree trunk then bent you slightly forward and entered you again from behind but standing this time. The height difference forced you onto your toes. He lifted you easily with hands under your thighs, spreading you wide and fucked up into you with his brutal rolling thrusts. Your feet dangled. You were helpless, impaled, and bouncing on his cock while he held you like you weighed nothing.

The new angle hit deeper and harder and the heat coiled tight in your belly again but faster this time.

“ Sukuna…” You choked.

“ Yeah.” He grunted.

“ Cum with me. Milk me dry.”

A few more punishing strokes and you shattered as your walls clamping down so hard he cursed in loud and ragged. He slammed deep one last time and came then painting your insides while your own release pulsed around him. He kept you lifted while his cock still twitching and pumping the last of his release until nothing was left. When he finally eased out, a gush of cum and slick followed while dripping down your thighs in obscene rivulets. He turned you gently and his eyes dropped to his shaft then a thin smear of blood streaked the base.

He smirked.

“ First blood.” He murmured.

“ Mine.”

Then he lowered you both back to the mat and pulled you into his chest. His strong arms wrapped around you while one hand stroked your spine in long and soothing lines. You were exhausted since your limbs are heavy, mind fuzzy, and core still fluttering with aftershocks.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “ How was your first, kitten?”

You buried your face against his pec. “ I didn’t expect…it to be so tiring.”

He laughed. “ I'm glad you liked the performance. I’m legendary, y’know. Girls line up for this dick.”

You smacked his arm weakly. “ Stop. Don’t ruin the moment, you disgusting man.”

He chuckled again but softer this time, and caught your hand as he brought your knuckles to his lips.

“ I’ve tasted plenty of pussy in my life.” He said quietly.

“ But yours?” He kissed each finger.

“ This is the last one I’ll ever want. No one else. Just you.”

You froze.

He met your eyes. “ I mean it.”

Your throat tightened. Because you didn’t know what to say, so you just snuggled closer and tucked your face under his chin. He hummed in approval while his arms were tightening.

“ Sleep.” He murmured against your hair.

“ I’ve got you.”

Under the ginkgo leaves, moonlight filtering through in silver patches, you drifted off to the steady thump of his heartbeat against your cheek. For the first time in years, the house behind you felt far away while the man holding you felt dangerously and perfectly close.

…

The weeks after that night under the ginkgo tree felt like living inside a fever dream you couldn’t quite wake from.

Sukuna started texting the very next morning.

Oversized tattooed Gremlin: You alive, kitten?

Oversized tattooed Gremlin: Answer.

Oversized tattooed Gremlin: Now.

You stared at the screen in the homeroom, cheeks heating, and thumbs hovering. You typed Yes and hit send before you could overthink it.

His reply came in seconds.

Oversized tattooed Gremlin: Good girl. I miss your mouth already.

You nearly dropped your phone.

From then on, it was relentless.

Every day, good morning texts that sounded more like orders, random photos of his coffee mug captioned of ‘thinking of you choking on something hotter’, and voice notes of him growling your name just to hear how it sounded when he was half-hard and bored at work.

If you took longer than ten minutes to reply, your phone rang and rang until you picked it up.

The first time you let it go to voicemail, he called back-to-back six times. When you finally answered, breathless and hiding in the school bathroom stall.

“ Where the fuck were you?”

“ I was in class!”

“ Class ends. You don’t ghost me. Reply or pick up like a normal fucking person.”

“ You’re so dramatic.”

“ Says the girl who cried on my cock for the first time.”

You hung up. He called back immediately. You answered because apparently you were weak for crimson-eyed menaces now. He didn’t yell. He just breathed into the receiver like he was trying not to lose it.

“ Don’t do that again.”

“…Okay.”

“ Good.”

He hung up first.

It should’ve annoyed you. Instead your stomach fluttered every time his name lit up your screen.

At the Itadori house, nothing changed on the surface.

You and Sukuna bickered like always.

“ You’re taking up the whole couch again, you oversized tattooed couch gremlin.”

“ Move your tiny ass then, kitten.”

Yuji rolled his eyes. “ You two are worse than siblings.”

Jin just sighed and kept chopping vegetables.

But the second Yuji stepped out to grab soda from the konbini or Jin went to answer a work call, Sukuna moved. One second you were standing by the fridge, then the next your back was against the pantry door, his mouth on yours with hunger and bruising. He kissed like he was starving while tongue sweeping in, claiming, and tasting like he hadn’t seen you in years instead of hours. When he pulled back just enough to speak, his voice was wrecked.

“ I missed you, kitten.”

Your heart did something embarrassing and tripped, then soared.

“ You just saw me yesterday.”

“ It's too long.”

He kissed you again but slower this time and deeper until you were clinging to his shirt and forgetting how to breathe. Then footsteps in the hall as he stepped back like nothing happened with his expression cool and bored again.

You were still dazed and lips swollen, when Yuji walked in.

“ You okay? You look weird.”

“ I…um—yeah. Just…hot.”

Sukuna smirked behind Yuji’s back.

The pattern continued.

He sent bentos to your school of your favorite katsu curry. Once, a bouquet of white camellias arrived at your doorstep and your mom thought they were from Yuji and cooed about what a sweet boy he was. Sukuna corrected her politely when he showed up twenty minutes later to “walk you to the park.”

“ Actually, ma’am, they’re from me.”

Your dad blinked while your mom blinked harder.

“ Oh! Well…thank you, Sukuna-kun. That’s very thoughtful.”

He smiled and bowed slightly. “ My pleasure.”

You stared at him like he’d grown a third head.

Later, when your parents were inside and you two were alone on the porch swing, he pulled you onto his lap without asking. You went willingly and tucked yourself against his broad chest like he was a human furnace. He buried his face in the crook of your neck while he's inhaling deep.

“ You smell like me.” He murmured that almost purring while the vibration went straight down your spine.

“ You’re so clingy.”

“ Shut up. Real men don’t get clingy.”

“ Then what do you call this?”

He nipped your earlobe. “ Possessive.”

You shivered.

He loved marking you, but always in places clothes hid. The inside of your thigh. The curve under your breast. The back of your neck where hair covered the bruise. Each one a secret only he knew about when he peeled your clothes off later and he’d trace them with his tongue sometimes while murmuring praise against your skin.

“ Mine. All fucking mine.”

You never asked what “mine” meant. Because he hadn’t said it. There's no labels, no ‘girlfriend’, or promises spoken aloud. But his actions screamed. He walked you home every single evening he could and it didn't matter if he had late shifts at the garage. He’d wait outside your school gate while leaning against his motorcycle like some delinquent prince with his helmet under one arm.

Your classmates whispered.

“ Is that your boyfriend?”

You blushed. “ He’s…Yuji’s brother.”

“ Uh-huh.”

When you were alone he’d pull you between his thighs on the bike, kiss you stupid under streetlights, and hands roaming but never pushing past what you were ready for.

He is always waiting while you are content.

Because you trusted him.

The way he softened only for you. The way he carried you bridal-style up the stairs when your legs gave out after he’d made you come so hard you saw stars. The way he cleaned you up afterward with a warm cloth, pressing soft kisses to your temple while muttering, “You did so good for me.”

You were waiting for him to say it and to define it. Because every time he looked at you, you felt it like he wasn’t going anywhere.

One night, after he’d snuck into your room through the window like a criminal since your parents were asleep downstairs, he had you straddling his lap on your bed. You were hugging his neck while your face buried in his throat while he rubbed slow circles on your back.

He was quiet for a long time, not until he spoke.

“ You know I’m not good at this shit.”

You lifted your head. “ What shit?”

“ This.” He gestured between you.

“ Feelings, talking, or whatever the fuck we’re doing.”

Your heart kicked hard. He looked away and it was the first time you’d ever seen him avoid eye contact.

“ But I don’t want anyone else touching you and I don’t want to touch anyone else. Ever.”

You swallowed. “ Sukuna…”

“ I’m trying to do this right. For you.” He finally met your eyes.

“ I want you to be mine, officially. No more half-assed bullshit. You want that?”

Your throat closed up. “ Yes.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for weeks then he kissed you and it's different from the hungry ones.

This one felt like a vow.

When he pulled back, his forehead pressed to yours.

“ Girlfriend. You’re my girlfriend now. Say it.”

You smiled through blurry vision. “ I’m your girlfriend.”

He grinned but soft around the edges. “ Good. ‘Cause I’m not letting you go.”

You snuggled back into his chest with your arms tight around him as he purred again. And for the first time since that night under the tree, everything felt…settled. It's not perfect. It's still messy, still full of bickering, secrets, and stolen kisses.

But yours.

Finally, undeniably yours.

it was too freaking hot out, but for some awful reason you and suguru told your parents that you guys were capable of moving yourselves into your brand new apartment. you should've just listened when they offered to have the movers handle things when they were furnishing the place.

"have i ever mentioned how much i hate you guys?" shoko groans, wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. she side eyes you, "seriously how do you guys have so much shit?"

suguru walks past, looking as unbothered as ever, a stack of totes in his arms as he walks through your living room and drops them by the couch. they're labeled with giant pieces of white tape. 'art supplies' and 'books and shit.'

you huff, "how are you not dying?"

he looks over at you, his unfairly soft silky hair looking pristine, not a sweaty frizzy mess like yours and shoko's. "all those summers of helping gran in her yard seemed to pay off."

"ugh," you lean back against your kitchen counter—the place your parents got you guys was shockingly… full of character. a large open concept dining room and kitchen with exposed brick and wooden beams, the kitchen was massive enough for all of suguru's culinary whims. despite wanting him to pursue medical school they still stocked it with state of the art equipment for him to use. "are we almost done?" you ask.

"if you mean am i almost done because you haven't brought a single thing up in the last half hour—then yes. i just have two more boxes to grab." suguru says with an eye roll, but he still heads right back out the door to go retrieve the last of your things from the moving truck.

the place had central air, but with the hot california sun it didn't do shit when you were going in and out into the sunshine and humidity over and over. you slump against the countertop a bit more now that you know there isn't anything else to collect, letting yourself breathe out a sigh of relief. then you look over at shoko and frown, "how am i going to survive without you every day?" you ask, genuinely upset that you're going to be an entire hour away from her for the next few months.

shoko grins and comes over to you, grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers together. "don't be so dramatic," she tells you with a smirk, "i move into my dorm in august. you'll be just fine."

"that's literally three months away, sho!"

"okay and? we have cellphones and cars, it's not like we're states apart, dummy." she squeezes your hand. "it's going to be okay," her voice softens a little, and in that moment you know she sees through you like you're glass. "i know it's scary and everything has changed, nothing is how we thought it would be." she's talking about your friend group and well, the lack of satoru, and how things are just so different now. "but, this is a fresh start. you are going to take this summer and you are going to explore, you're going to go to all the local art museums and find the best spots to eat." she's giving you that comforring smile that always eases the tightness in your chest, "you are going to be okay. we are going to be okay, you know that right? i'm not going anywhere, and suguru kinda can't go anywhere. you're stuck with us, babes."

tears well up in your eyes and you nod. it's been three months since you cut off satoru, the sun, but you've been learning how to breathe better with each passing day. it's still hard though, you walked across the stage last week to get your diploma and… you didn't even speak to him. it's almost surreal honestly, to have gone your entire life picturing this big moment with him beside you and then… you had to do it without him.

you take a slow calming breath to steady yourself, "you're right." you nod, keeping your fingers laced together, using your free hand to reach up and swipe away your tears before they can fall. "it's just… hard still. i just always thought he'd be here you know?" you frown a bit, "and if i could lose him so easily then it worries me that i could lose the two of you just like…"

shoko drops your hand, reaches up and smacks the back of your head, making you wince.

"what was that for?!"

she rolls her eyes, "i literally just explained that you won't lose us, stop being a dumbass. sometimes i wonder if suguru took all the brain cells in the womb."

you splutter making an offended squeak, "sho!"

at that moment suguru appears with the last two boxes and raises his eyebrows. "i miss something?" he asks, his eyes instantly honing in on the smudge of your mascara on your waterline and the slight pinkness to your cheeks.

"just your sister being dumb, the usual."

"ah okay," he nods, disappearing down the hallway to go set the boxes in their designated spots. when he appears just a few seconds later he dusts his hands off and looks at the two of you, "well, everything's inside. the moving truck already left, so let's go get something to eat. i read that there's an amazing burger joint between here and campus."

you roll your eyes but you push off the counter and grab your purse off the counter anyways. "alright, but you're driving." you tell him as shoko follows you to the front door.

"well yes, if we want to get safely to our destination i definitely am driving. you don't exactly have the best track record." suguru states as the three of you exit, and he turns around to lock your front door. "i am still amazed you even got your license."

"you hit a curb one time and suddenly you're a danger to society." you mutter as you huff heading down the hallway towards the elevator, the pair behind you follows closely and you can hear their muffled laughter trailing behind you.

shoko manages to speak first, "babe, you bent the rim. we were in an empty mcdonald's parking lot. that's kind of insane."

"you guys are assholes." you huff, smacking the glowing downward arrow, and crossing your arms over your chest. "see if i'll ever be your dd in the future if you treat me like this!"

suguru gives you a wry grin, "it's cute you think we'd even let you be the dd, i would rather uber before ever doing that."

you look over at him and glare, "you're a prick."

"and you're hangry. let's feed you before you terrorize half of los angeles looking for your next meal, godzilla." he retorts, gently nudging you forward when the elevator dings, and the doors slide open. "the place i found even makes those ridiculous shirley temples you love, with the fruit inside."

then just like that, your annoyance fades and a bright grin blossoms on your face. "oooh! okay, let's go!"

day one of being full time adults, already off to a somewhat good start. your chest feels like a massive weight has been lifted off of it, and for the first time in a very long time, you feel truly optimistic for the future. you know you're going to be okay, so you let yourself soften, leaning against your ridiculously tall twin brother, and engage in more bickering with shoko, relishing in the newfound sense of freedom.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

you had fallen into a new routine with your twin while living in your new apartment. every morning, the two of you would sit at the wooden dining table and share breakfast before unpacking a bit more, decorating, or choosing somewhere new to go check out. today you'd decided that after eating you wanted to go explore some of the local shops, maybe walk around and get some sort of ice cream or something.

so when suguru sits down, sliding his own plate of eggs, toast, and sausage onto the table looking a bit… awkward your instincts flare. you narrow your eyes a bit, scrutinizing him, looking for any sort of clue. "what are you hiding?" you ask, as he lifts his fork to his lips.

he pauses, the fork hovering mid-air. "what do you mean?"

"you're just…" you gesture your hand at him loosely, "being all weird. so spit it out, what aren't you telling me?"

suguru sighs, setting his fork back on his plate, sitting up a bit straighter. "i have to go back home today, i probably won't be home for several hours."

you blink, "oh, okay." that isn't that weird, so why is he acting like he just got caught doing something. "dad trying to make you shadow him again or something?"

"no… i'm not visiting mom and dad."

"okaaay… so if you aren't visiting them, who are you seeing?" you pause, and your nose scrunches up, a sour expression on your face. "oh god, are you and shoko hooking up?"

"what? no! that's disgusting, she's like my sister, and you know as well as i do, you'd be far more her type anyways!"

then something clicks in your brain, and you feel a bit stupid for not realizing. "you're going to see him." you notice your brother visibly tense, and you sigh with a small sad smile. "you don't have to hide that from me, sugu. i told you both if you want to be friends that's fine. i'm not going to be mad or anything," you pause a moment, "you know i won't break if you talk about him right? i'm… getting better."

"i just didn't want to make things weird," suguru says looking away for a moment. "we've been texting here and there, he wants to work on our friendship. but… he called me yesterday. him and manami broke up."

you feel your stomach clench a little bit, "is he alright?"

suguru sighs, "well… it's complicated. he caught her cheating on him, and then she broke up with him."

"she was cheating on him? seriously?" you ask incredulously. how the hell could she cheat on satoru? for just a moment, the thought of reaching out to him flashes through your mind. it seems that you're not as subtle as you think because suguru seems to know what you're thinking almost immediately.

"no." he says firmly.

"what? what do you mean no?"

he gives you a look, like 'are you really serious right now?' and shakes his head. "you've been healing, working on yourself… you still have a ways to go. just because satoru's girlfriend left him doesn't mean you have to come to his rescue. it isn't fair to yourself to slip right back into your old dynamic before you've given yourself time to properly heal and move on."

"yeah," he's right you know he is, but it still… it sucks. "you're right, just…take care of him, please?" your voice is so small, so vulnerable.

suguru's shoulders droop, the tension dissolving the moment your voice sounds like that. "of course." he nods, and then just like that, the two of you finish your breakfast in relative silence, as your mind runs a mile a minute, thinking about satoru. eventually, after the dishes are cleared and placed into the dishwasher, you wave your twin off from the living room.

when you're all alone in your apartment you sink into the couch, and you let yourself feel your conflicting emotions for just a moment. then, you exhale, eyes shut, and you do your best to gently remove any traces of satoru from your mind. you decide you'll stick to your original plan of exploring the shops, might as well, otherwise you'll be cooped up here all day thinking about your former best friend, and you're much more likely to cave if you do that so… you get off the couch, head to your room, and start to get ready.

it doesn't take you too long to get ready to head out and hit the streets. thankfully your apartment is pretty centrally located, so walking isn't that crazy of an idea. you've been venturing out more with your clothing taste lately, more thin strapped tops with pretty lace details and tight jean shorts to beat the heat. it makes you feel… more you.

so you decide today you'll cross a few things off your list. get some art supplies, check out a few thrift stores, and there's even a few odd little food stores nearby you'd been curious to browse. you leave the apartment late morning when the sun hasn't fully risen to its maximum height yet, giving yourself plenty of daylight to look around.

first you find an individually owned art supplies store, the old woman who owns it is warm and inviting. she shows you around, helping you find your favorite brushes, the best acrylic paints for the price, and she even throws in a small pack of miniature sized canvases for free. that's probably because you'd spent the better part of two hours browsing and chatting with her, even happily telling her you'd been accepted into the advanced arts program at UCLA, so she seemed to take a liking to you and your passion for art.

you end up leaving with a canvas bag stuffed full of new supplies, and her card tucked in, so you could call and request supplies you may need in the future. she smiles brightly when you promise to be back, declaring this to be your new one stop shop for your painting needs.

after that you venture to a few of the oddity shops nearby, snapping photos to send shoko when you see taxidermied frogs and jars of rat eyeballs. you do find one of the places with odd snacks, they're all in different languages. the lady at the counter had explained that they have things from just about every corner of the world. you immediately snatch up several bags of oddly flavored chips, and a few delicious looking bags of sour gummies. your eyes run over the chocolate aisle more than once, but… you decide to forgo the sweets, not wanting them to remind you of a certain someone.

as you make your way back to the sidewalk, arm now lined with a paper sack of your snacks right beside your canvas bag of art supplies, you spot a row of various clothing boutiques. you think for approximately three seconds before you decide you know what? you do deserve a new wardrobe. which is how you end up staring at yourself in a floor length mirror wearing the prettiest vintage lacy white camisole top. there's a cute little bow that sits right between your cleavage, and you fall in love instantly. the price tag for it is sort of insane, at seventy five dollars, but you can't find it within yourself to care too much. your parents gave you and suguru credit cards for a reason, and you had never been a particularly expensive kid…ever, except for your martial arts classes, so you deserve it.

that was your final boutique. you have the shirt safely tucked into a bag along with several other similar shirts and plenty of cute bottoms to go with them. your arms are now lined with multiple bags dangling from your wrists to your elbows. thankfully it doesn't bug you much, you lift far heavier weights during training anyways.

the sun is starting to make its way down, having already crested to its peak a few hours beforehand, so you start to head back towards the apartment. until a decent sized brick building, sitting on the corner of the street catches your eye. there's a massive figure painted above the corner doors, shirtless and in a boxing style pose. in faded yellow and black lettering it reads, 'The Fushiguro Gym.' the setting orange and red sunlight glows, making an almost ethereal glow around the entrance.

you catch a glimpse of a ring, rows of mats, sandbags, and other equipment through the window and you grin. this felt like the perfect sign. you'd been meaning to find somewhere to continue practicing and maintaining your martial arts anyways. so, you decide to walk right up to the glass doors and shove them open and step inside.

the smell of antiseptic, sweat, and worn leather hits you and it feels like home. you're standing in the lobby, where a small front desk stands empty. you glance around, trying to get a feel for the place. there's people training on the equipment, hitting bags, running treadmills, and even a few people sparring on mats and in the ring.

you don't even sense someone's behind you until a deep rumbling voice addresses you, "you lost?"

the sudden sound makes you jump a bit, before you turn and have to crane your neck to look up at the massive mountain of a man before you. "uhm," you furrow your eyebrows, "no, not really. just wanted to check the place out. i've been meaning to find a new gym, just moved here recently."

he raises his eyebrows, "this ain't no pilates or aerobics gym, so if that's what you're lookin' for you may want to think again."

you scoff, "obviously. why the hell would i go to a mixed martial arts gym looking for fucking pilates? i need somewhere to keep up so i don't get rusty with my training."

the man arches an eyebrow, still not seeming to take you seriously. "you do tai chi or somethin'?"

"no," you say rolling your eyes. god what a sexist prick. "brazilian jiu-jitsu and muay thai. been training since i was five years old." you tell him, squaring your stance, refusing to be intimidated or looked down on. "i want to find somewhere i can keep up with that, and maybe begin learning other defensive techniques and styles. maybe this isn't the place for that though."

"a little thing like you?" he asks, the corner of his lip twitching up. you faintly realize he has a small scar cutting across it there. "well, color me impressed princess. if that's what you're lookin' for you came to the right place."

you glare, "little thing? you're like a mountain, no shit i'm little compared to you." you sigh, "so… who do i talk to about becoming a member?"

"you're lookin' at him," his lips form a smirk, and he gestures at the front desk. "toji fushiguro, i own the place. let's go getcha signed up."

despite his initial… reaction, toji actually seems to be pretty cool. he explains the various benefits of the membership, different tiers, and so forth. he tells you to come in that thursday, and he'll do a free assessment to see where you're at, and then they can decide where to begin with the new training. he hands you a small folder with all the printed out information you need for the gym, a small card that shows your membership, and a little card with his personal cell number. "see ya on thursday, princess."

by the time you're exiting the gym, the sun is dipping low on the horizon, hardly any sunlight left. so you head back to the apartment finally, to unload your massive amount of bags, and finally eat a decent meal before you relax before bed.

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you do come back to the gym later that week, on thursday, just as you'd discussed. though you do arrive earlier than he'd told you to, that way you could get a little bit of time in to navigate the gym and get used to the set up and equipment.

there's changing rooms, one for men one for women—they're not anything fancy. practically identical to locker rooms at a high school if you're being honest. you drop your duffle onto the bench, unzipping it to pull out your athletic wear and gloves. it's quick work to rid yourself of your street clothes and tug on the spandex pants and compression top, then you shove everything into the bag, and scan for an open locker. once you've found one large enough you shove it inside, and then take your combination lock from the outside pocket and slide it into the locker hole, gently close the door—and click the lock shut.

satisfied, you shake yourself out a bit, and head back into the open gym. you'd already scoped the place out visually, you knew you wanted to start with the heavy bag today. so you make your way over to the designated corner of the gym, and start some light dynamic stretching to prime your muscles for your drills.

at this point it's practically ingrained into your bones—rolling out your neck, your shoulders, opening up your chest, your hips, flexing your knees. making sure you weren't stiff or tight, so that you didn't accidentally pull a muscle. you'd learned that lesson the hard way when you were eleven and thought you had too much to prove to your old instructor. he scolded you for over a week for it.

once you're satisfied you breathe in a bit, and let the calm wash over you. this was your space to breathe. to stop thinking—there were two things in your life that let you get all that pent up emotion out. art and fighting—but in very different ways. with your art, whether you're sketching or painting you're forced to sit with your feelings, address them, feel them, work through them at the forefront of your mind. but with this? training, fighting, moving? your body does all the work for you, processing the things you can't bring yourself to think of in the moment, letting them come out through your strikes, through the adrenaline, the burn.

you start off light, a simple set of drills—jab, cross, kick. jab, cross, kick. you repeat the combination a few times, switching and alternating every few sets—until you hear that same deep voice from a few days ago behind you, "wow," he hums, eyes trained on your form, "i'll be damned you've got pretty good form, princess."

the comment makes you roll your eyes and drop back to neutral, so you can turn to face the gym owner. "well i would certainly hope so. i have been working on my form for close to ten or more years now."

he laughs, the corner of his scarred lips tilting up. "your kick," he gestures at the bag, "pretty strong from what i can tell. let's get you out on the floor, i'll hold the pads. i want to get a feel for it myself."

you nod, and wordlessly follow him when he turns his back on you and makes his way towards the open mats, stopping to grab a pair of pads from the nearby rack. he positions himself in the center, slipping the protection onto his hands, "let's start simple. give me some kicks."

so you do. it takes a moment for you to breathe in and center yourself. but you let your eyes fall shut, tongue darting across your top lip, then let your shoulders drop. when you open your eyes toji's waiting, pads held up.

the first kick is a warm up, but still strong. he nods, "again."

you go again, a little more oomph to this one. "come on, show me how hard you were hittin' that bag, princess. i ain't scared."

that time you change up, slamming a harsh switch kick into the pads. toji's grin widens, a slightly feral edge to it. "that's more like it," he says nodding, "more of those."

you aren't sure quite how long the two of you go through drills—he works you hard, and by the end you're sweating buckets. your muscles are burning, screaming, feeling like the fibers are splitting apart but it feels good. he had you rotate through combinations—jabs, crosses, teeps—and by the time he calls it he's shucking off the pads and watching you with appreciation.

"you're pretty good, princess." he tells you, "there's always room for improvement. but we'll get there." he clamps a massive hand onto your shoulder, "let's go getcha somethin' to drink and munch on real quick." he whisks you off towards the front area, but instead of taking you to the main waiting area—he leads you off to the side, and into what you assume is his office.

it's decently sized, and he's got a small fridge in the corner. when he opens it you note it's filled with protein drinks, bottles of water and electrolytes. he snags a gatorade and tosses it to you, then after closing the fridge he shoves his hand into a massive jar and fishes out a little protein bar for you. "sit," he nods at the small sitting area by the window.

you drop into one of the arm chairs, grateful as you break the seal to your drink and take a large gulp.

toji watches you for a moment, "so. what's your reason for wanting to get better? you aren't in it for competition, so. what is it? i know it sure as hell ain't just exercise for ya. the power behind your strikes paints a… vivid picture."

you think about it for a moment. what is your reason? there's many that come to the forefront of your mind. one being you've done this for years, and you simply enjoy it. it's therapeutic for you. another being it makes you feel good about yourself. boosts that confidence you struggled with for awhile. but at the end of the day? one reason stands out above all else.

"honestly? it used to be a hobby," you say fiddling with your drink cap. "something fun. i started martial arts young, a way for my parents to get me out of the house i guess." you shrug, "then eventually it became like… therapy. but now?" your mind drifts back to halloween last year, the party, naoya, his hands in your hair and feeling so fucking helpless—, "i want to be able to protect myself. no matter the situation."

toji watches you, "someone make you feel unsafe? i know los angeles has some shitty people—,"

you shake your head, "no, nobody local. it was… awhile ago. just something i don't want to repeat." your lips purse a little bit as you continue to speak, "i uh, had found myself in a situation at a party. you see i always had this… confidence that i could protect myself because i've been doing these sports for so long. but i was proven how wrong i was when i was easily overpowered. i was uh, drunk, but still. i just…"

"you don't want to feel powerless again, i get that." he says agreeing. "that's common, actually. some people think that just because they're good at performing in the gym that they can apply it just as easily in the real world. that isn't always the case."

you see a glint in his eyes when he looks at you, like maybe he's seeing a bit of someone else.

"look, i'm here late every tuesday and thursday. if you come by about two hours before closing we can work on some one on one stuff. self defense. i'll help brush you up with everything else too but… i'll show you how to actually hold your own in a real life situation."

you blink, "really? that'd be awesome! how much do i need to pay you?"

toji looks away from you, and you see he's staring at a photo frame on his desk. it's turned away so you can't make it out. "nothin' princess, consider it a good deed. just show up on time and listen to the shit i tell you and we're good."

"just like that?"

he nods, "yeah. i… i've got two kids. boy and a girl. my oldest, tsumiki, she's seven. i would want someone to do the same for her."

you find yourself thinking huh, that's actually incredibly sweet. this huge, gruff, thug-looking dude is just… a soft hearted dad deep down. "well… thanks. i really appreciate it."

"yeah well, don't thank me 'til you've knocked a guy twice your size out. that's our goal."

"uh-huh…"

that night you head home, tired, worn out—but hey. you've got a new gym, a new instructor, and los angeles is starting to feel a little more like home than your small forest town ever did.

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it's a random friday afternoon, you're laying sprawled across your living room with shoko and suguru. the brunette is visiting for the weekend, but somehow none of you had managed to decide just what you guys would do when she got here. sure you could go get food, or you could go to the beach, but all that's just… eh.

you're mindlessly scrolling through your phone, half slumped into shoko's side when a dainty tattoo of a crescent moon appears in your feed. the idea sparks in your head almost instantly. you drop your phone onto your chest, "guys," you say. "i know what we should do today."

shoko doesn't even look down at you, "uh-huh. and what's that phineas?"

you huff, pushing yourself upright and pout at her. "hey! i really do!"

"alright, enlighten us." suguru says from his spot in the arm chair adjacent to you. he clicks his screen off and gives you his full attention, "as long as it's nothing illegal at least."

"it's not," you assure, "i think we should go get the tattoos we always talked about. i saw this super cool tattoo shop last week when i was out—and i just… wouldn't it be cool? something for us and kinda spontaneous?"

"tattoos?" suguru asks raising his eyebrows. "what if we can't just walk in?"

"the sign said walk ins welcome!"

"hm," he stares at the ceiling for a moment, almost pondering. "well i suppose nothing says 'we're adults and make our own choices' like going and getting tattoos."

shoko shrugs, "i'm down. but like… won't your parents murder you both?"

you scoff, "yeah if they ever visit and see them. you really think they're going to use their obscene amount of PTO to visit us? hah!" you pick your phone back up and quickly do a little pinterest search, skimming through photos, then you grin. "perfect, look!" shoko peers over your shoulder, and suguru sighs, getting to his feet and dragging himself to your other side. he flops down with a little too much force and leans into you.

on your screen is an image of four tiny little designs. a crescent moon, a ringed planet, and an eight pointed star. nobody dares to bring up the fourth piece—the sun.

"well?" you ask, glancing back and forth between them. "we used to always talk about it in high school, so…?"

"yeah," shoko nods. "let's do it."

suguru grimaces, "you know this sort of… brands us together. forever. right?"

"sugu, we are literally twins. you are stuck with me regardless of the ink we put on our bodies."

"don't remind me."

shoko rolls her eyes and pats your cheek softly, "i want to be stuck with you. he's just a loser, ignore him."

suguru makes an offended noise but you and shoko are too busy snickering to pay him much mind. until he gets up and snatches his car keys and wallet from the counter and turns back to you two, "get up, let's go do this before we have time to actually think about it."

"yes!!" you shout hopping up with a bright little smile, "let's go!"

the tattoo shop is all faded brick, large glass pane windows, and neon lights bordering every frame. in large skinny capital letters just above the door it reads, 'KAMO INK.' the three of you stand outside the door for a moment, almost hesitant, but then before you can overthink it you push the heavy door open.

a bell chimes, and you hear the buzzing of a tattoo gun, then the scent of antiseptic and ink invades your senses. "be with you in a second." a flat, deep yet somehow soft voice greets you.

after a moment the buzzing stops and a man steps out from the back room, scanning over you. "walk ins?" he asks as he steps behind the front counter. he's tall, but not overwhelmingly so. there's a thick black strip of ink that stretches across the bridge of his nose and slightly onto his cheeks. his arms seem to be hidden from the elbow up, but you can hardly see any visible skin—swirls of patterns, shapes, and all sorts of things marring his lower arms.

"yeah, uh." you nervously smile, "matching tattoos? nothing crazy, uhm. very small!" you fumble with your purse and tug your phone out, and quickly open up to the reference photos you'd saved earlier. "we wanted to do these!"

the man looks for a moment before nodding, "yeah, i can do that. shouldn't take much time, but i need to finish up an appointment in the back. it'll be a little while before i'm done, that cool?"

you nod, "yeah! totally fine." you look over at your brother and shoko, and they both agree.

true to his word, it's another thirty or so minutes before the tattoo artist appears again. this time he has a pretty girl with icy white hair behind him. she looks tiny in comparison to him, and her face is blank, to the point you have to do a double take because you'd never seen such… lack of emotion before.

it doesn't take long for him to sort her out, punching in a few things on his computer, then swiping her card. they exchange a few soft spoken words, and then she's breezing past you and out the door.

"alright, let's get started." he says walking back over to your group. "name's choso kamo. i own the place, currently the only artist, but i've been doing this for a few years now. do you want to look through my work before we begin?"

that's probably a good idea. and how none of you had even thought of that? well… you definitely were impulsive.

"sure," you find yourself saying. "how many years exactly have you been doing this?"

choso indicates for you guys to follow him, and he leads you through the doorway, and into an open concept room. it's pretty, airy, and filled to the brim with art, plants, and various odd bits of decor. he leads you to the back corner, where he has large frames of his flash pieces on the walls, and a little table below, showcasing a thick leather bound book.

"five. i started as soon as i turned eighteen," he tells you, leaning down to grab the book. "here." he presses it into shoko's hands and you lean over her shoulder to get a good look as she opens it up. "i opened this place up a year ago, worked at a bigger shop since i graduated my apprenticeship. decided i wanted something of my own, so… here i am."

his work is phenomenal to say the least. you find yourself a bit awestruck at it. you'd think he'd been doing this his entire life if he hadn't just given you his actual career time.

"woah," you accidentally murmur.

he awkwardly shifts his feet, "so, still want to get some tattoos?"

suguru who's been pretty quiet speaks up, "well even if they don't want to, i do. i'm not even an art person but this is incredible."

you agree internally with his words. choso has an amazing talent. it almost makes you want to ask if he ever does art that isn't on skin.

choso's lips turn up ever so slightly, "alright. who wants to go first?"

shoko sets the book back down on the table, and then stretches her arms over her head.

"i'll go first," she grins lazily, "these two can be pretty wimpy. so i'll let them fight for last."

the three of you follow choso over to a spot by the large paned windowsills. he has his area set up in the natural sunlight. he points at the chair for shoko to sit, and you watch as he starts to ask questions. how big, placement, which design she was getting.

she answers everything easily, not too big, inside of the wrist, and the little planet with a ring.

you find yourself taking in all the art scattered around the space, until your eyes catch on a familiar smear of blues, blacks, and white. and you feel your heart nearly fall out of your chest.

it's your painting. one of the ones from the showcase last winter. you almost aren't sure, maybe someone made one eerily identical—but your eyes drift down and you see your signature all pretty and loopy in the bottom right corner.

they'd all been bought together so that means the other three have to be here somewhere. you scan the room searching, until you spot the familiar hands—yours and satoru's. two hands reaching out but never touching, your little red string wrapping around him—while his trails off the canvas, not to you.

those are the only two you spot though—the most personal of the paintings are nowhere to be seen. you find yourself walking over to the shades canvas, tracing your signature. choso glimpses up and sees you, and he nods at you as he speaks, indicating the painting you're looking at. "i picked that up last winter, it came with three other paintings." he tells you, "one is hung up over there." he tilts his head slightly off towards the red strings canvas.

you can't help it, "where are the other two?"

he smiles a bit as he begins the prep on shoko's arm, gently cleansing the wrist and wiping it off. "those two i wanted to keep for myself. well," he pauses, "one of them… the artist captured a group of friends on the beach. i've always wanted to find them so i could gift it back. it seemed… personal."

choso smooths over shoko's skin with a clean cloth, "the other one i gave my brother. he has it hung up in his bedroom. he really resonated with it. it's this gorgeous depiction of an old watchtower in a deep forest. and the sky above it is so beautiful and otherworldly…"

your throat works as you listen to him speak. "when's the last time you looked at the beach painting?" you're curious, because well, you thought it was pretty obvious if you looked at the three of you and the painting side by side.

choso furrows his brow. "it's been awhile… honestly probably not since a little after i bought them. i tucked it into my art closet for safekeeping."

that makes a little more sense then.

you finally turn away from the painting and you awkwardly laugh, "so, are you the one who bought them at the auction?"

he looks up then, hand stilling. "yeah, actually. how'd you know i got them at one?"

you shrug a shoulder, lips quirking a bit. "'cause they were mine."

something seems to click in the tattoo artist's mind. "i can't believe i didn't realize… you are the spitting image of the beach painting." he looks between each of you, and suguru and shoko are snickering.

"well, um. if you wanted it, i could bring it to the shop and you could pick it up sometime?"

you hesitate for a moment. the idea of taking that painting back, and having to look at satoru—, but… it is a good memory. "yeah, sure." you smile softly, "thanks, that's pretty considerate."

after that the conversation begins to revolve around more art—mainly between you and choso, but suguru and shoko chime in here and there. by the time it's been an hour or so, you're each freshly tattooed and ready to go.

you each pay for your ink, wrists covered and happy with the results. before you leave, you and choso make plans for you to come grab the beach painting sometime soon, and then you're off, heading back to you and suguru's apartment.

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today you'd decided to explore a little more of the town—suguru was apparently too busy to indulge you today, so a solo adventure it was. it's been maybe four days since you got your tattoos done, and yours is healing up nicely. you'd already grabbed the painting from choso yesterday, though it's tucked deep in your closet so you don't have to look at it.

that's how you find yourself grabbing your keys and tossing your purse over your shoulder as you leave the apartment. you're wearing a pretty camisole, it's pristine white and lacy at the top with a cute little bow that ties just between your cleavage. beneath you have on a pair of light washed blue jean shorts. it's truly the perfect summer outfit.

the warm sun beats down on you as you wander down the sidewalk downtown, passing cute storefronts filled with anything you could imagine. from boutiques to flower shops, there was even a hole in the wall reading cafe that looked like it had mismatching bookshelves and worn large chairs. you make a mental note to check it out another time.

you glance down at your phone, checking to see if suguru has replied about dinner or not. annnnd he did.

from: twin 🖤🧑‍🍳 

i'm having dinner with satoru tonight, so don't wait for me to eat. and don't just eat frozen nuggets again.

you roll your eyes, thumbing out a reply when you suddenly slam into a brick wall. your phone clatters to the ground, your purse flies across the sidewalk, and you wince as you fall backwards landing right on your ass. it takes you a moment—but then you feel a distinctly wet and sticky sensation covering the entirety of your torso.

slowly your eyes drift down and your jaw goes slack. vibrant green slush is dripping off your white. vintage. t-shirt.

"shit," curses a deep voice.

your eyes narrow as you glance up at the brick wall you'd run into. he's tall, honestly taller than anyone you'd seen before, but maybe it's because you're ass down on the sidewalk. the black t-shirt he's wearing stretches tight across his broad chest doing nothing to hide the obvious muscle he has underneath, and his massive corded arms stick out, covered in a sea of intricate black ink. though the thing that sticks out the most? his pink hair.

he crouches down to your level, scooping up your purse, hastily shoving your spilled items back inside—he picks up your phone quickly looking it over for cracks. you see him literally sag with relief when he realizes it's in perfect condition somehow. he gently tucks that into your purse as well.

there's a now empty slushee cup in his other hand. the sight of it fills you with pure rage.

"you make a habit of running girls over and drenching them in your nasty neon drinks?" you ask, yanking your purse back into your own hands, slinging it over your shoulder.

he raises his eyebrows, "no, not usually. only the ones who aren't paying attention to their surroundings."

you scoff, "what about you? you ran into me!"

"nah, pretty sure it was the other way around, sweetheart."

your lip curls into a snarl. "well, either way, you ruined my shirt. this wasn't cheap, so thanks for that."

he rolls his eyes, and stands back up, then offers you his hand. it's huge and covered in a multitude of rings. there's even some ink curling around the top of his hand and down his fingers. "gonna let me help you up, or you just gonna sit down there and whine?"

despite his attitude you reach up and clasp your fingers around his and let him pull you to your feet. once you're upright, you're able to fully take in his height and sure enough—he's definitely way taller than anyone you'd met before. and okay wow, despite the whole ruining your shirt and making you fall on your ass, he's got to be the most attractive man you've seen in well… ever?

"hello? earth to brat?"

you blink, and flush bright pink realizing you'd just been caught blatantly staring at him. "uh, sorry." you bite the inside of your cheek trying to quell the embarrassment, "what'd you say?"

he rolls his eyes again, "i said there's a laundromat a few blocks away. i'll take you there and get the stain out before it sets."

"uh," you furrow your eyebrows, "am i supposed to just wait around in my bra or something? i don't have a spare shirt on me."

"no, genius." he says like you've just said something completely idiotic. "you can wear my jersey, it's in my bag. freshly cleaned so it's not all gross or anything." then he leans down and picks up a duffle bag that'd been sat at his feet. he must've set it down when he crouched down to help you?

your mind races for a moment. should you really go with this stranger to the laundromat? isn't that sort of a terrible idea? then again it's a public laundromat. and you really don't want this shirt to be ruined—fuck it. "alright, lead the way."

he nods his head towards the way you'd been walking and turns around, waiting for you to fall into step with him. “figured with that attitude of yours you'd resist any sort of help." he says with a little smirk, glancing down at you.

 "yeah well, i don't want my seventy five dollar shirt to be completely ruined, so."

"seventy five dollars? for that scrap of fabric? jesus christ, what the hell is it made of? gold?"

that makes you scowl, "it's a nice shirt. vintage. so i hope you know what you're doing, because if you ruin the lace i'll—"

he cuts you off, "what, you gonna kick my ass, sweetheart?" the way he sounds so condescending and cocky and so fucking self assured like you're not even a threat pisses you off.

"i was going to say i'd make you buy me a new one, but you know what? yeah. maybe i need to beat your ass in the ring," you spit out as you clench your fists. then under your breath you mutter to yourself, "egotistical prick."

"oh? in the ring huh? you do tai chi?"

if it weren't for the fact you're walking down a public sidewalk you'd stop and tear him a fucking new one. instead you settle for giving him a nasty glare, "no. for your information, i've been doing brazilian jiu jitsu and muay thai since i was five."

he raises his eyebrows, "huh. you don't look the type." then he's nudging you, "it's right here." and he walks up to the worn metal door and tugs it open, holding it for you. "ladies first."

you scoff, "how chivalrous."

that earns a sharp laugh from him, "i try my best. my mother would be appalled if i didn't open the door for a pretty lady."

"mmm, and how would she feel about you running one over and staining her shirt with a bright green slushee?"

"well, i'm taking you to get the stain removed, aren't i? i had to learn somewhere." he moves towards the back wall, where there's a large sink with a cabinet directly overhead. you watch as he starts the water, and begins pulling out items from above. he then looks over his shoulder, "alright. come over here, i'll give you the jersey so you can change."

you sigh, and do as you're told. he sets the duffle bag on the adjacent counter and digs out the said jersey. it's blue and gold, and the fabric is soft when he plops it in your outstretched hands. he tilts his head to a door right beside you, "bathroom's there."

with an eyeroll your fingers dig into the fabric and you spin on your heel to duck into the bathroom he pointed out. you quickly tug the delicate shirt over your head and lay it gently across the countertop beside the sink, grimacing at the neon green splotches seeping into it. then you grumble to yourself and finally yank the jersey over your head. it falls just past the middle of your thighs, covering the jean shorts you're wearing. the thing looks like a mini dress on you, and you just know if suguru caught you wearing this he'd probably have an aneurysm.

after inspecting yourself in the mirror and making sure your makeup is still pristine and your hair isn't a wreck, you exit the bathroom with your little lacy scrap of fabric in your hands. the mysterious pink haired man is leaning against the counter looking in your direction and his eyes flick up and down and he smirks, but he doesn't say anything. instead he holds his hand out expectantly, and when you're close enough you huff and give him the shirt.

he turns back to the sink, which is now filled with cold water. he takes the shirt and soaks it, then he wrings it out and sets it onto the marble counter. you watch curiously as he smooths the material out flat, and then pulls out dawn dish soap. he heavily pours it over the green stain and massages it generously into the fabric.

"alright, gotta let it sit for a bit. i'll set a timer on my phone," he mutters, almost to himself as he wipes his hands on his joggers, then pulls his phone from his pocket. when he's done he turns back to you and tilts his head, "so, you gotta name?"

you blink at him, "do i gotta name?" you ask flatly, "gee, you know what? i don't. my parents just called me 'girl.' names aren't really their thing."

he snorts, "okay, smartass." he says, then he leans back against the edge of the sink, and extends his hand to you, almost lazily. "sukuna itadori," he says. "though, you may have seen my last name when you put the jersey on."

"oh," you look down at the fabric tugging at it, "actually i just threw it on so…" then you finally take his hand, and shake, giving him your first and last name in return. you can't help but be curious, "so, you go to ucla?" you ask. the jersey is the same colors of your new university. he must be on the football team.

"mhm," he tilts his head. "you really have no clue who i am, huh?"

you arch an eyebrow, "am i supposed to?"

he barks a laugh, "most people around here tend to know the local university's quarterback. not to mention i'm kind of being sought out for the draft so…"

it's all foreign to you. you don't know jackshit about sports. the only thing you vaguely know about is basketball and that's because satoru played in high school. "sorry," you grin, "i'm clueless about sports."

sukuna just shakes his head, "can't say i'm too surprised, a brat like you probably couldn't tell the difference between baseball and softball."

"rude," you narrow your eyes, "well mister hot shot. if you're the school's quarterback, what year are you in?"

"i'll be in my third year this fall," he runs his fingers through his already messy pink hair, "working on getting a bachelor's degree in sports management."

"didn't you just say you're supposed to get drafted?"

"well yeah, but everyone needs a back up plan. can't play ball forever."

you hum, crossing your arms over your chest, hair falling to the side as you squint at him, head tilting.

sukuna ignores your scrutinizing and continues on, "so what about you? you going to school?"

"yeah," you nod. "first year this fall. i'm studying art. i think i want to pursue a career in art therapy." it'd been something you had thought an awful lot about lately. art really helped you work through your own emotions and problems so… why not do that for others?

"interesting," his dark brown eyes seem to sparkle with interest. "my brother's an artist. he's always been vocal about how everyone's art speaks if you listen. whatever the hell that means."

you'd never heard something so true in your life. it brings a genuine smile to your face. "your brother is right. art is a language of its own. if you really look at an artist's work you can see inside their head and their heart."

just as sukuna is about to reply, his phone alarm rings through the empty laundromat. he sighs, silencing it before turning back to your shirt on the counter. then he continues to work on it, bringing it back to the sink and rinsing it. he scrubs lightly at the fabric as he does, washing it with warm water this time. you watch with fascination as you see the green dye bleed out of the white fabric, pooling down the sink's drain.

it takes him only a few more moments before the shirt is almost fully stain free.

"wow," you stare at it, pretty impressed. "i really didn't think you could pull this off."

sukuna ignores you, wringing the shirt out, and then he snatches his duffle bag, and heads over to one of the smaller washing machines. he opens the door and tosses your shirt in, before opening his bag and tossing a bundle of work out clothes in with it. he puts in a bit of laundry soap and fabric softener, and starts the machine. "it'll be fully clean once this cycle is done." he says almost mindlessly, "you don't want to put something small like that in alone, so hope you don't mind me washing my shit with it."

you swallow, eyes catching on the visible muscles on his biceps as he finishes what he's doing. "uh, yeah. that's cool." your eyes flick back to him, "thanks."

he stands back up turning back to face you. he cocks an eyebrow. "for?"

then you gesture vaguely towards him and the washing machine. "most people wouldn't help some girl they just met get a stain out of her shirt. so, thanks."

sukuna shrugs one shoulder, "like i told you. my mom would kill me if i didn't. she raised me better than that."

you laugh, "yeah, seems so."

the next hour is spent chatting about random things, and bickering back and forth. by the time the buzzer sounds from the dryer, you're kind of… sad. that your time with him is coming to an end. there is just something about him that sort of makes you feel like… you're napping in the sun. wrapped in warmth and comfort. even if he's kind of a dick.

you take the now dry and stain free shirt, and go back to the bathroom to change. its fabric is warm against your skin. sukuna's jersey is loose in your hand as you return to the main room, handing it back to him. "well," you say shifting your feet, "guess this is where we go separate ways huh?"

he smirks, "don't miss me too much, brat."

you scowl, "as if i could miss the asshole who spilled a neon green monstrosity on me."

"well that asshole got the stain out, so."

"whatever," you shove his arm slightly and then your phone buzzes.

from: twin 🖤🧑‍🍳 

i have a feeling you're planning on frozen nuggets again despite what i said. so i'm having dinner sent to the apartment. don't let it just sit, grab it and eat it.

suguru is always worrying after you. you laugh, and look up at sukuna, "well. i have to get home, apparently dinner's going to be ready soon."

the pink haired man hums, duffle bag slung on his shoulder, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweats. "don't run into anyone else carrying drinks on your way back."

"i don't think that'll be an issue." you huff, "thanks again." you give him a small smile. then you're stepping out onto the sidewalk where the sun is just starting to dip a bit, "night."

"goodnight, brat." he gives you a lazy little finger salute, walking backwards on the sidewalk, before he turns around and continues on his way. you stand there for just a moment, watching his figure retreat.

you can't help it when the thought crosses your mind.

'i kinda hope i see him again.'

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

after that day, it's like the universe is leading you to each other.

again.

and again.

and again.

the first time you see him after that is merely three days later when you decide to head to the campus bookstore and get the books you need for your first semester. you're in the mathematics section, trying your best to reach the book you need, but it's just barely out of your reach.

you're on your tip toes, jumping trying to reach the damn thing. but you're just not quite tall enough. your fingers keep grazing it but it's not enough to get a grip on it. suddenly you feel heat at your back, and a heavily tattooed arm appears beside your head, ring covered hand easily grabbing the thick red colored spine.

when the arm retreats back you spin around and find sukuna smirking down at you. "this what you were looking for?" he asks, "just a little too tall for you huh, shorty?"

your hand darts out and snatches the book, hugging it tightly to your chest. "don't call me that." then you loosen your shoulders and try to stand straighter. "i could've handled it without your help."

"uh huh… with what? a step stool?" he barks a laugh at his own joke, and you want to punch the bastard in his smug face.

instead of replying you glare and begin walking down the aisle, eyes scanning the list on your phone, and you start plucking the rest of what you need off the shelves. thankfully none of them are on the top shelf like that stupid mathematics book. sukuna trails after you making comments here and there, poking at you.

"ah, you sure you can reach that?"

"oh that looks too heavy, your arms seem tired…"

"wow, impressive that someone of your stature can carry that much."

by the time you're checking out you're ready to strangle him. you practically jam the card into the reader, and snatch the bag of books from the cashier. sukuna who only has two books tucked under his arms, having purchased just after you, follows you out. "sure you don't need my help carrying all that home? looks like it's weighing you down."

you practically growl, "i'm fine."

so much for wanting to see the bastard again.

but it doesn't stop there, because of course it doesn't. the next time you run into the pink haired menace it's at the cute little flower shop you'd spotted the day he ruined your shirt. you had wanted to get a few bundles of flowers to freshen up the apartment, maybe even a few plants. today you had the car, because suguru was doing some summer reading back at home.

you're ready to place your bouquets and little air plants on the counter, but someone else is already in front of you getting rung up. and by now you know the back of him anywhere. the stupid pink hair and unfairly attractive muscular arms with scrawling ink. he's got a beautiful bouquet in his arms, full of baby's breath, daisies, and greenery.

he nearly bumps into you when he turns around to leave. you go still, eyes a little wide, unsure of what exactly to say. like oh, nice to see you again, are those for your girlfriend that you never mentioned?

sukuna seems to read your mind. he pats the wrapped bouquet with his free hand. "they're for my mom," he tells you. "it's her birthday today."

"oh," you say, mouth open slightly, "uh, cool. happy birthday to your mom." you fidget awkwardly, two pots of succulents in one arm, flowers in the other.

he laughs, "see you around, sweetheart." and then he's gone again and your mind is fucking dizzy and reeling thanks to him. so you do your best to shove his stupid smirking face from your mind and pay for your plants.

the universe is cruel, because the following tuesday after a brutal work out with toji, you stop at the corner store by the gym to grab a coffee and protein bar. you're leaving the cooler aisle when you nearly run into someone. you stop just short, and look up to see sukuna, holding a stupid green slushee. again.

"you gonna spill it on me again?" you bite out, knuckles going white around the cold can in your hands.

"only if you want me to," he drawls, lightly shaking the cup in front of you. "could make another trip to the laundromat if you want."

an annoyed scream tears from your throat and you shove past him, stomping to the register. you practically toss your can and protein bar on the counter, and then toss the cashier wrinkled cash before taking your items back. you don't even look over your shoulder at sukuna but you can feel his smug gaze locked on you as you leave, so you raise your hand, after shoving the bar into your pocket, and flip him off. his laugh echoes in your ears as you leave.

the fourth and final coincidence happens one late evening after private lessons with toji. the gym had long since closed for the night, so it was just you and toji left. the elder man was busy shutting things down, telling you to head home for the night, when the gym door swings open.

you stop in your tracks, hand tight around the strap of your gym bag on your shoulder when you see him.

"okay," you say holding out a hand like you're silencing him, "this is just insane now. are you stalking me or what?"

sukuna raises his eyebrows, "stalking you? yeah right." he says, "why the hell would i stalk a woman with an attitude as bad as yours?"

"bad attitude?" you ask incredulously. "the hell do you mean bad attitude. you're the one who—"

before you can tear into sukuna, toji appears behind you, wiping his hands on a rag and tossing it over his shoulder. "you two know each other?"

sukuna smirks, "you could say that."

you scoff, "this asshole spilled his fucking neon green slushee on me, stained my favorite shirt and now it's like i can't get rid of him!"

toji glances between you, something seeming to click in his head, "ohhhh," he smirks, "this is the girl you won't shut up about."

sukuna's ears turn the faintest bit pink. he glares at the raven haired man, "shut up, old man."

toji rolls his eyes, "barely older than you, brat."

you look at sukuna, crossing your arms, a giant smirk twitching on your lips, "so you talk about me huh?"

he rolls his eyes, "don't let it get to your head. i've complained about how annoying you are."

"how annoying i am?! you're the one who's a prick every time we run into each other!"

sukuna laughs, "because you make it too easy."

you dig your nails into your palms, leaving crescent moon shaped dents. "god you're so insufferable. i'm leaving."

but before you can stomp past him, sukuna's hand shoots out and gently wraps around your wrist, stopping you. "hold on a sec," he successfully gets you to halt. "look," he stares at you, looking strangely… vulnerable for once. "normally i don't believe in fate and all that bullshit but… you're literally everywhere i go. and that has to mean something so… yeah." he shifts his stance, "at least give me your phone number?"

at least give me your phone number?

normally i don't believe in fate—

you blink. staring at him blankly for several seconds before a delighted laugh ripples out of you. "oh my god, was that a pick up line?"

sukuna glares, "if i was trying to 'pick you up' you'd know, trust me. i just figure maybe it's a sign that we should be friends or something."

your laughter quiets down and you sigh, shaking your head, a smile lingering. you dig into the side of your gym bag and pull out your phone, quickly unlocking it and opening the contacts. "fine, here. but you better not use this to pester me more than you already do."

"wouldn't dream of it." he replies dryly, taking your phone, quickly entering his name and number, before sending himself a text so he has yours as well. "well here you go," he says handing it back. "i'll be seeing you around then, sweetheart."

you nod, warmth flooding your cheeks, so you quickly jam it back into your bag and turn briskly back to the door, shouting a farewell over your shoulder.

damn that bastard. he just knows how to get under your skin.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

the first time you hang out with sukuna officially, he comes to pick you up from your apartment on his motorcycle. when you'd walked down to the parking lot and seen him leaning against it, you immediately told him nope.

but he just grinned, holding out the spare helmet for you.

against your better judgment, you hopped onto the back and wrapped your arms tightly around his torso—cheek pressing against his shoulder, watching as the world blurred around you. the wind whipping at your face, blowing your hair in a million directions.

the ride wasn't long. it took maybe fifteen minutes before he slowed to a stop in front of the massive museum he had said he'd take you to. apparently he often came here with his family, so he's somewhat of an expert or something.

you make it inside, and he immediately drags you towards the dinosaur exhibit—where there's lots of bones on display, sculptures of life like dinosaurs, fossilized footprints.

much to your shock he's able to recite facts off the top of his head as if he's the damn exhibit's curator.

"how the hell do you know all this?" you ask after he finished explaining that a common way to tell if a specimen is a piece of fossil bone or just a rock is to stick it to your tongue. permineralized bone will typically stick to your tongue, a rock will not.

sukuna laughs, hands in his pockets as he glances at you. "my nephew is a dinosaur nerd. i've sort of just… gleaned everything from him."

that's kind of cute.

"you guys come here a lot?"

he nods, "yeah. my brother works long hours and tends to do away jobs a lot. so i help whenever i can. it's sort of a whole family ordeal."

that makes you smile, "that's nice. you guys must all be pretty close huh?"

"yeah… there's five of us. technically four, but well you know toji. mom kinda took him in when he was young. he's basically family in all but blood."

you think about the kids toji's mentioned, tsumiki and megumi. "oh wow, does that mean your nephew and his kids are pretty close then?"

sukuna actually groans. "don't even bring that up. those little tyrants make me want to bash my head against a wall."

"c'mon they're kids. they can't be that bad."

he crosses his arms, glaring at a life size model of a velociraptor. "yuiji is already enough to handle. but add in the other two brats and it's just horrible."

you snort, "not a fan of kids?"

sukuna side eyes you, "i didn't say that."

"mhm," you nudge him with your elbow, "certainly seems that way."

he shakes his head and you almost don't hear him as he gets the words out in a rush. "look they're all good kids, they're just… dictators. i love them but fuck."

the thought of sukuna surrounded by kids, being forced to take them to the park, to get ice cream, to watch their tv shows. it makes you melt a little bit.

"well i'm sure they love you too," you say with a little smile. then you look towards another open hall, leading to the art exhibit, "let's head over there, so i can give you fun facts instead." the two of you walk side by side, not quite touching, but brushing against each other every few steps, and disappear down the hallway.

hours later when you exit the museum you're starving. to the point that your stomach is rumbling and it's loud enough for sukuna to laugh at you and make a comment.

"alright, let's feed you before you decide to eat me."

you punch his arm gently, "you're such a prick."

he grins at you, all pearly white teeth and abnormally sharp canines. you squint your eyes before speaking again, "if anyone's eating anyone, you'd eat me, you vampire."

sukuna just rolls his eyes and hands you the spare helmet.

he drives the two of you to a small diner near your apartment building. the sort that still has a bar with spinning leather stools, an old woman with a waist apron, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. there's little neon lights lining the tops of the walls, casting a glow despite the sun still shining.

you're skimming through the menu, before you settle on a juicy looking burger with greasy fries.

sukuna arches an eyebrow, "no salad?"

"oh my god," you roll your eyes. "a girl can enjoy a salad and a good burger. i just happen to have the urge to eat half a cow, okay?"

"rabid are you?"

you kick him in the shin beneath the table.

the waitress comes over and cheerily takes your orders, setting glasses of cold ice water on the table, and then flits off to the kitchen leaving the two of you alone once more.

"so," you start, leaning back into the plush leather booth, eyeing sukuna. "where'd you get all the ink?"

he glances down at his arms, almost fondly. "my brother's a tattoo artist. i've always been his test dummy."

"wait like, you just let him practice on your skin? with permanent ink?!"

"i mean, it looks pretty good doesn't it?"

you blink, "i mean yes but—,"

sukuna shrugs, "it works out. right now we're working on designing a back piece for me. what about you, sweetheart, you got any ink?"

that's when you realize the dainty little moon inside your wrist has been covered by your sleeves or your apple watch almost every time you've seen sukuna. so you bunch up the sleeve of the flannel you're wearing over your dainty camisole, and hold your wrist out proudly.

"i got this with my twin and our best friend. we're matching. sugu has a star, and sho has a little planet," you grin thinking about them, "pretty cute huh?"

sukuna reaches out and holds your wrist, rolling it gently in his hand as he looks at the neat black lines. "it is. suits you."

you can't help the flush creeping up your neck. "ha," you look away, "the guy who did it was pretty cool. get this—," you pause dramatically. "he has my art in his studio! i did this auction event last winter and i guess he's the one who won."

sukuna drops your wrist softly back to the table, hand retreating back to his lap. "really? that's pretty crazy. seems fate really has been running your life lately," he smirks, and you know he's talking about himself and all your encounters.

"you're pretty talkative about fate for someone who claims they don't believe in it," you pick at your nails, still not looking at him.

you can feel the heat of his stare, "yeah well, kinda hard not to when it drops someone like you into my lap."

then there's the sound of footsteps on the worn linoleum floor, and the waitress from before appears with your food lining her arms. she flashes a sweet smile as she settles the plates in front of you, checking if you need anything else before she bustles away.

for just a moment, you can't help but think—that a year ago at this time, you couldn't fathom ever being in this position. a year ago, you didn't really know life outside of satoru and his big blue eyes. the sun that always pulled you into his orbit.

finally you glance up at sukuna. he's focused on his meal now and there's a dribble of ketchup on the corner of his lip. you feel yourself softening slightly at the sight. it makes him appear so much younger. maybe life outside of satoru isn't so bad.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

it happens so seamlessly you don't even realize until you're already in a routine. sukuna seems to fill all the empty spaces in your life you hadn't quite acknowledged or realized existed.

he becomes the person you text at two o'clock in the morning when you can't sleep. the one you send the stupidest memes to. he's the one you call when you want to clear your head and go stare at the ocean. but he's also the person who gets you out of your comfort zone, trying new things, going on adventures.

you'd texted him a bit ago.

to: sukuna 👹👹

i'm bored. come get me

from: sukuna 👹👹

i'm watching the brat for jin today.

but if you don't mind that, you can come get ice cream with us.

to: sukuna 👹👹

 ice cream and the cutest kid ever?

sign me up!!!

over the last month and a half or so of your new friendship with sukuna, you'd gotten to know his nephew through photos and videos he sends you or little stories he tells you when you hang out. and yuiji is seriously the cutest thing in the world.

you're dressed in a pretty little sundress and ready to step out the door, sandals on and purse on your shoulder.

"another date?"

you turn around and see your twin leaning against the hallway archway, looking at you with raised eyebrows.

"it's not a date. none of this has been dating, sugu."

"uh huh," he says sounding entirely unconvinced. "where's he taking you in that outfit?"

you huff, crossing your arms, glaring at your brother. "for your information, i'm going to get ice cream with him and yuiji."

"his nephew?" he lets out a long whistle, "getting pretty serious. i have to text shoko."

irritation and annoyance bubble up in you. you glance around before spotting a few protein bars you'd left haphazardly on the entryway table. your fingers curl around one and you hurl it at your brother as hard as you can, but he's used to your antics so he merely tilts out of the way.

"have fun," he lilts, "be safe!"

you growl and turn back to the front door and wrench it open and stomp out. stupid suguru and his stupid comments and his stupid meddling. you swear that him and shoko are insane. they think that you and sukuna are dating no matter how many times you explain you're just friends.

but that doesn't matter. they're dumb.

by the time you reach your lobby you see a familiar figure waiting for you, arms crossed. and just to his left you see a much smaller almost identical version of him, practically vibrating in his spot.

"wow!" yuiji exclaims, his eyes widening as you draw closer to them. "uncle 'kuna wasn't kidding, you are really pretty."

you smirk a little, looking up at sukuna, who scowls down at yuiji, smacking him on the back of the head.

"shut up, brat." sukuna hisses, then he looks up. "he's putting words in my mouth. i told him you weren't ugly when he asked."

"oh how sweet," you say laughing. then you turn your attention back to yuiji, crouching slightly to be the same height as him. you stick out your hand, "nice to meet you, yuiji. i've heard all about you."

he grins, one tooth missing, bandaid on his cheek. "i've heard all about you too! uncle 'kuna doesn't stop talking about you," he barrels on, hardly taking a breath between sentences. "yknow uncle toji says you're spicy and pretty. he says that's perfect for uncle 'kuna." he grips your hand with both of his, rapidly shaking it.

you nearly choke, but refrain from doing so. "oh really?" you say, "that's interesting." you don't even dare to look at sukuna. instead you continue on as if yuiji had described the weather. "i've been told we're going to get ice cream. you excited?"

"yeah! uncle 'kuna said we can even go to the park after. there's this suuuper cool dinosaur park near the ice cream shop. it's got like this huge jungle gym shaped like dinosaur ribs!"

"that sounds so cool." you tell him, nodding. then you draw yourself back to your full height. "let's get going. you can tell me all about the dinosaurs when we get our ice cream. your uncle 'kuna says you're kinda the expert."

yuiji smiles so bright you think you'll go blind, and then he reaches up and intertwines his little fingers with yours and nods, tugging you towards the lobby doors. "i am! you'll be one too once i tell you all that i know."

you don't catch it, but sukuna watches the two of you, as he trails behind. and there's something dangerously close to fondness and adoration in his eyes.

"alright, don't talk her ear off before we even get in the car, brat." sukuna says, pulling the car keys out of his pants pocket.

"uncle 'kunaaaa," yuiji whines.

you just grin, "he's just grumpy. don't listen to him," you whisper, laughing slightly, and then the three of you are out of the building and heading towards the car.

it isn't that long of a drive to the infamous ice cream shop—apparently this is the ice cream shop according to yuiji. he tells you that his uncle 'kuna takes him here 'cause he says the workers know how to 'shut the fuck up.'

you shoot sukuna a look when his five year old nephew says that. he just smirks, and agrees, muttering something about hating overly friendly retail workers.

eventually you enter the shop. it's cute, almost vintage looking. a little bell rings overhead signaling your entrance. the walls are a soft pastel blue with hand painted murals of ice cream cones and thick wavy lines. all the seating consists of golden metal tables and chairs with soft pastel colored cushions and table tops. it's nice. it feels light and airy.

yuiji immediately runs up to the glass ice cream case, palms spreading out over the glass leaving smudges as he nearly presses his face against it too. sukuna steps up to his side and immediately nudges him back, admonishing him in a low whisper. yuiji pouts but listens to his uncle.

you drift over to yuiji's other side, eyes scanning the vast amounts of flavors. both you and sukuna settle on your orders relatively fast, but it takes forever to get a definite answer out of yuiji.

eventually he settles on a waffle bowl with three different scoops of ice cream, bits of oreos, rainbow sprinkles, and whipped cream. yeah that was definitely a sugar rush waiting to happen and you're not quite sure this kid needs any more help in the excitement department.

the three of you stand in front of the register, and you really understand just what yuiji meant about the workers now. because the young guy who took your orders didn't say a single word to you—and the girl who looks around your age, that rings you up? she's a total bitch.

she's chewing gum, smacking it loud enough that you're clenching your jaw and holding yourself back from making a comment. the way she huffs and puffs and sighs dramatically and rolls her eyes is enough to make your nails dig into the palm of your hand that isn't holding your ice cream.

yuiji is bouncing in his spot, between you and sukuna, his eyes wide as he eagerly tries to spoon a bit of ice cream into his mouth. his hand misses though, and the spoon smacks his cheek, ice cream splattering on him and the floor.

the cashier makes an annoyed scoff, "ugh. can you like, please control it?"

you blink.

control it?

about yuiji? a child? she just…referred to him like a stray dog—

your shoulders tense up as your eyes narrow, staring her dead in the face. "excuse me?"

her gaze lazily slides over to you, "i said could you control it? ugh. kids are so annoying. seriously."

"you're talking about him like he's a fucking dog. he's a kid," you hiss out, taking a slight step forward, positioning yuiji behind your legs. "if you don't like them maybe you shouldn't work in a damn ice cream shop."

you feel sukuna's hand on your wrist, like he's trying to placate you, but you don't even spare him a glance as you continue on. "where's your manager?"

she wrinkles her nose, "what are you? a karen?"

your blood spikes at her fucking tone. if yuiji weren't here and it weren't a felony, you'd jump the counter and show the bitch what a karen you can be. but instead you breathe in through your nose, shutting your eyes for a moment to ground yourself. then you open them, and glance at her name tag. "listen here teresa. we are paying customers, who wanted to get ice cream. that's all. we didn't come here to get your nasty attitude. so apologize or i will make sure i send your manager a thorough email about your shitty customer service skills."

she rolls her eyes and you want to scream. "ugh. whatever. sorry."

behind you, sukuna reaches into his wallet and tosses a twenty dollar bill on the counter. he tightens his grip on your wrist and tugs, "let's go to the park. she's not worth our time."

you try to argue, but he has your wrist in one hand and his ice cream in the other, and yuiji's a bit confused but trailing beside sukuna as you exit the ice cream shop.

"i had that handled." you grit out, annoyed that he forced you to leave.

"uh huh. what, you gonna leap over and beat her ass?"

you give him a look, before turning to look at yuiji, who's still happily shoveling ice cream into his mouth. "you okay, buddy?"

he glances over at you, a toothy grin spreading, "yeah! you were all raaahhhh! like how uncle 'kuna gets! he does that too when he says people are bein' assholes."

you have to stop yourself from laughing at him. because that shouldn't be funny but it is. "well, sometimes people deserve what they get."

"uncle 'kuna says that too!"

you snort, glancing back to sukuna who's smirking, casually licking a bit of his ice cream.

"well, let's go to that super cool dinosaur park now, okay?"

"yeahhhh!!" yuiji shouts, then he's shoving the last of his ice cream into his mouth and begins biting the waffle bowl—how the hell he downed three scoops so fast you don't know. after he takes another bite and swallows, he sprints off down the sidewalk towards the large opening of the park.

you keep your eyes trained on him as you and sukuna trail after at a much slower pace. sukuna nudges you with his elbow, "you've known the kid less than forty minutes and you were already ready to commit a crime for him," he snickers, "toji's right. you do fit right in."

the two of you make it into the open area of the playground, dropping onto a bench so you can watch yuiji. and it's nice, peaceful in a way, despite yuiji constantly running up to you and dragging you towards the monkey bars, the swings, the slide, anything really.

by the time the afternoon drags on, and yuiji's beginning to yawn, the three of you head back to sukuna's car. once he's properly seated in his booster, sukuna starts the engine and heads towards where you assume yuiji lives.

in the backseat, despite his yawns, yuiji still finds the energy to talk. he sleepily calls out your name, "y'know this weekend i have a soccer game. will you come?"

you pause, "uhm i'm not sure if—,"

"pleaaase! i want you to see how cool i am when i kick the ball!"

you glance over at sukuna who shrugs, and so you slump and relent. "yeah, i'll be there, bud."

yuiji smiles like he always does, but his eyelids begin to droop. and just like that, he passes out cold in the backseat.

the drive is quiet, but it's not awkward. if anything it's comfortable. it takes another twenty minutes before you're entering a rather nice little suburb, pretty houses with front porches and picket fences. sukuna pulls into an expansive driveway, where two other vehicles are already parked. the house is a soft blue, with a bright yellow door.

the front door opens and a tall man steps out. he looks almost identical to sukuna but a little older and a little softer. no visible tattoos, his features aren't as chiseled or angular, his eyes are warm and tired.

sukuna gets out of the car, and circles around to meet who you assume is his older brother. they talk for a moment before jin opens the back door and gets yuiji out of the back, still asleep, slumped into his shoulder.

jin gives you a soft smile and a little wave, before heading up the porch steps and back inside. sukuna huffs a little, rolling his eyes, before walking back to the driver's side and slipping into his seat. "now that the brat is home, wanna go get somethin' to eat?"

you laugh softly, kicking your feet onto the dash, nodding. "yeah, sure. only if i get to pick though."

"you always do," he mutters, almost more to himself than you, before throwing the car into reverse and heading back into the setting sunlight.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

the weekend comes fast, and you find yourself tucked into sukuna's passenger seat late saturday morning. you're wearing leggings and a soft t-shirt with some sneakers. he gave you shit about looking like the too young step-mom who's trying to be a soccer-mom.

you were pretty nervous, which considering it's a children's soccer game made you feel pretty silly. however this was meeting basically sukuna's entire family. you'd never really… met anyone outside of shoko or satoru's families. though you couldn't really remember that feeling considering you'd known them for so long.

it also still feels… odd sometimes, to be growing this close with someone else. getting out of your little bubble. it's not like you had much of a choice considering shoko wouldn't be moving until august, and suguru was constantly doing course work despite not having even begun the semester yet. it's that or he was going home to visit satoru.

he tried to almost hide it, keep it a secret, but you've told him and shoko so many times you don't care if they're friends with satoru. that they can hang out with him, talk to him, you don't mind. honestly you want them to because it drives you a little crazy knowing that he had a nasty breakup and you can't even comfort him.

you're still in your head, until you feel a sharp flick to your forehead.

"ow—fuck! what was that for, asshole?!" you turn to glare at sukuna who's giving you a flat unimpressed stare. it takes you a moment to realize you're parked now just outside the soccer field for yuiji's game, parents and families everywhere setting up little spots with chairs and coolers to watch.

"what's got you spacin' out like a dumbass?"

you shove at his arm, "i'm just nervous. don't give me that look."

"you're nervous for a kids soccer game?" he raises his eyebrows.

"no," you immediately correct. "i'm nervous to meet basically your entire family. i've never really… done that. this whole friends thing is still new."

he snorts, "you act like you have no social skills. just stand there, be you, and they'll love you."

"what if i'm weird? or awkward? or what if i say something stupid?"

"you literally train with toji like twice a week. one on one. if you can handle him you'll be fine. everyone else is like… kittens compared to him."

you groan throwing your head back into the seat. "ughhhh," you crack your eyes open glancing sideways at him, "okay… let's go. before i lose my nerve."

sukuna shuts the engine off and pulls out the key, "you're actin' like you're my girlfriend or something about to meet everyone. chill out, brat."

"who're you calling a brat?" you counter, unbuckling your seatbelt, leaning over to flick him, harder than he had. "payback, brat." you slink back into your spot, grab your purse and hop out of the car, ignoring his annoyed commentary.

you glance at the field, scanning until you spot a familiar ridiculously tall raven haired man. before sukuna can close his door, you're striding across the field where several adults and children are gathered around blankets, chairs, and coolers.

it's almost like he senses you because toji glances up from where he'd been talking to jin, "ah, there she is," he grins giving you a two finger salute. "kid's been asking where you are all morning."

you laugh, looking over at yuiji who's sat in a little circle with two other kids you recognize from photos in toji's office—megumi and tsumiki.

"sorry, yuiji. your uncle 'kuna is super slow."

you then feel heat at your back, and sukuna drawls from right behind you. "don't go lying to the boy. you're the one who was whining in the car just now—,"

immediately you drive your elbow backwards into his gut cutting him off. you smile like you're a perfect angel who didn't just assault your friend. "anyways, i brought you guys something!" you reach into your purse, and you pull out three little pins. they're little golden stars. "for good luck!"

the kids scramble to their feet, and reach out to take them. you laugh as you help put them on their jerseys. from what you know, megumi and yuiji are the same age and they're on the same team. tsumiki is a year older than them, and she isn't playing. she's in a small judo class according to toji.

a deadpan feminine voice cuts through the idle chatter, "well, are you going to introduce us to your friend, sukuna?"

you look over and your brain almost doesn't register it—the woman who spoke has to be maybe two years older than you. she's beautiful. short, with chin length icy white hair and her eyes are so unique. you don't think you've ever seen the specific shade before. they're nearly lilac. wait, this is the woman you’d seen at the tattoo shop!

behind you sukuna sighs, hand coming down on the top of your head like you're a particularly good pet. it irks you but you don't give him the reaction you know he's seeking. he tells everyone your name, "i already told you all she was coming. the gremlin damn near begged her."

the white haired woman scoffs, and to her right is an older woman with soft features, laugh lines, and thick wavy hair the same shade as sukuna's. "it's nice to meet you dear. we've heard a lot about you," her eyes crinkle when she smiles at you, "i'm these guys’ mom, but you can just call me delia."

"i'm uraume," the blank faced woman states. "i'm unfortunately related to these assholes."

you snort at that, "nice to meet you guys." then your gaze flickers over to where toji and jin are. there's a third man. probably the brother sukuna allegedly lives with.

toji elbows them both, "you already know me, princess." he smirks, "these are the nicer siblings."

jin smiles waving, "good to see you again."

and to your shock, you lock gazes with familiar brown eyes. "yo," choso says, blinking owlishly, "didn't expect to see you here." he glances over your head at sukuna, "you didn't tell me this was her."

sukuna gives choso a weird look, "the hell you mean it's her?"

choso looks at you and gestures to your wrist, "remember the girl i told you about awhile back? did the dainty moon on her, she got matching with her twin and friend? how it was the girl whose art i got at the winter auction last year?"

you slowly realize what this means.

choso had said that he'd given his brother the painting of the watch tower and night sky.

choso's brother is sukuna.

oh my god.

you spin around to sukuna, "you have my art in your room?!"

sukuna furrows his eyebrows, "how the hell was i supposed to know that?"

"i—,"

then the whistle blows. the kids are called to the field. you falter for a moment, but just shake your head, "we'll talk about it later," you say crossing your arms, "let's watch the game."

you spend the afternoon hanging out with the itadori-fushiguro family. which means you learn a lot more about them. delia, otherwise known as 'mama itadori', was a single mother who raised her kids all on her own. she still works part time at an animal shelter near the house. which apparently jin lives at with her.

there are four itadori siblings total. well technically three because choso is a kamo—jin is the oldest. he's twenty six. him and toji met as tiny little kids. toji grew up just down the road but he didn't have a great home life so… he sort of just… became a fixture at the itadori household. when he was seventeen he lost his parents, and so mama itadori adopted him officially. as he got older he completely redid his childhood home so it would be fit to live in.

uraume is the second oldest. she's currently doing a rigorous nursing program, and doing a residency at a nearby hospital. she seems aloof, almost cold, but it's clear despite her icy exterior that she adores her family.

you learn sukuna is the third oldest, which somehow does and doesn't surprise you. he absolutely gives off middle child vibes. and choso, he's the youngest. he has a different dad than the others, some asshole who skipped out before he was hardly even six months old.

they're all very close, and delia helps jin and toji as much as possible with the kids. which is why jin lives at the house still. that and he says someone has to be there to take care of her too. he has a pretty hard laborious job. he's a pipe layer and he gets sent out all over for work. though he does make great money apparently.

you learn that both jin and toji are single dads. yuiji's mom never wanted to be a mom so… nobody really knows where she went. while unfortunately in toji's case, his fiancée skipped out after megumi was born. she'd even taken the majority of his money at the time—and dipped. no trace.

despite being such a tight knit group, they're so… welcoming. you've never really had a real family besides your best friends and suguru. so this is new. you've never experienced such sincere warmth before and it's… it's really nice.

during the last bit of the game, you're sitting on one of the picnic blankets, legs in front of you, you're leaning into sukuna's side watching the little five year olds trying to play soccer. you smile softly, a little content hum slipping from you.

he glances down, "what?"

your eyes drift up to his, "nothing," you reply. "just… this is pretty nice."

he barks out a laugh that shakes you a bit. "really? watching kids play like shit is nice?"

"shut up," you huff, "i just mean…" you gesture vaguely with the hand not pinned against him, "being around a family that actually likes each other."

"well i don't know about that."

"stop acting like you're too cool for us, 'kuna. you're the biggest sap of us all." uraume comments from somewhere behind you, and you laugh leaning further into his side.

sukuna bristles but doesn't deny it. instead he just looks down at you again, "well, they seem to like you just fine. so… you're welcome whenever now, i guess."

"wow, way to make a girl feel wanted."

he flicks you again.

"you're such an asshole—!"

the smug bastard just settles back further onto his hands, and the rest of the afternoon passes by just like that.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

august comes quick, and the heat just gets so much worse. you're sweating in places you shouldn't and your camisole is sticking to you like a second skin. currently you're lugging an absurdly heavy box into shoko's dorm.

how you got conned into helping her move in you have no fucking clue.

as soon as you cross the threshold into her lavish dorm space—it's a joint dorm, so basically an apartment split between three people—you drop the box to the floor with a thunk.

"if you broke my shit i'm going to shave your eyebrows in your sleep," shoko mutters drifting past you into her room, carrying a duffle bag that she tosses onto her bed.

you flip her off the moment she turns to face you, "then maybe you should've let the boys handle this instead of me."

shoko rolls her eyes as she walks back towards you, patting your shoulder gently. though her hand sticks to your skin for a moment making her wrinkle her nose. "you know suguru is much more valuable in the kitchen."

"he can be valuable in the kitchen after we finish lugging in your shit!" you exclaim, gesturing wildly between your brother who's casually chopping vegetables at the kitchen counter, no sign of sweat on his skin.

"nah, i want food as soon as we're done, babe."

you throw your head back and want to scream. it's times like these where you wish shit hadn't gotten so fucked up with satoru. because you'd make him be the damn pack mule.

"you're an asshole," you say staring holes at your twin's forehead. he just shrugs, stupid little smirk on his lips.

"you could always invite that boy toy of yours to come help," he says like he's commenting on the weather. "you know, the one who practically treats you like his wife?"

shoko looks between the two of you, "oh? that's new. i thought you were just friends." she uses air quotes at ‘friends.’

"shut up, sugu!" you hiss, then turn to shoko. "ignore him. he's an idiot. sukuna and i are just friends."

"mhm," she says not looking like she believes you in the slightest, "well maybe your lesser half is right—" suguru scoffs at that, "call him. tell him you're in dire need of his manly muscles or something."

you glare at her. then you decide you know what? fine.

that's how fifteen minutes later, you find yourself sitting at shoko's kitchen island, cold coffee in hand, watching the men, plural, move the rest of your best friend's shit inside.

shoko is perched beside you, chin resting on her palm as she watches them work. "wow, he really came with a whole crew, huh? and brought your favorite coffee."

"shoko." you shoot her a look, and she just smirks.

sukuna had in fact enlisted help—it's the weekend, so he brought toji and jin. choso got stuck back at the house with delia and the kids. uraume is there too, but she's directing the boys with ruthless efficiency, and kicking them in the shins when they begin to complain about her tyranny.

they finish eventually. it doesn't take them long, and when they do, suguru's prepared a meal for champions. which is just a fancy feast of appetizers for the lot of you, but still delicious.

once they've all had their fill, uraume drags toji and jin out the door, after patting your head goodbye and telling you to text her if sukuna is too bitchy today. sukuna stays, and you want to throw yourself off a cliff, because you know what's about to happen.

the four of you had moved to the dining table. thankfully the dorm came furnished. shoko and suguru sit across from you and sukuna, and you can almost see the mindlink between the two as they lean forward locking their gazes on your male friend.

"so, sukuna," shoko drawls, taking a slow sip of her iced tea, "how'd you meet our princess hm?"

suguru snorts, but looks equally as curious. you've been pretty secretive in regards to sukuna. this is the first time he's been around him for more than two minutes when he picks you up.

sukuna looks at you and a devilish smirk stretches over his face, "well, she fell for me."

suguru's eyebrows practically shoot up to his hairline, and shoko leans closer. "oh? tell me more."

you look at him and glare, "i swear to god—,"

sukuna ignores you.

"i had been minding my own business, when she was walking down the sidewalk, staring at her phone—and she practically body slammed me." he sighs, "i had a slushee, and she ruined it. practically wore it as a dress."

"that's not what happened asshole! you nearly ruined my favorite t-shirt. that shit cost me seventy five dollars yknow?"

sukuna doesn't seem phased in the least. "i fixed it though didn't i? took you right to the laundromat and got the stain out myself."

suguru narrows his eyes, "were you shirtless in a laundromat?"

"no!" you squeak, "he let me borrow his jersey—i wouldn't do that sugu, i'm not stupid."

sukuna grins, "and after that, she started to stalk me. she was everywhere i went."

"i was not. if anyone was stalking—it was you! and you constantly had to piss me off. horrible way to start a friendship by the way."

a laugh rumbles deep in his chest. his eyes soften a bit looking at you. "yeah well, pretty sure it worked out for me in the end."

shoko hums, "well that's cute," then she leans back against her chair. "tell us about yourself. suguru says you practically hoard all her time, so i'm curious. she's never exactly been the social type so must be something special about you."

you flush bright pink at her comment. stupid shoko. sukuna replies, but you tune it out, not listening to the back and forth between them. you shift in your seat, eyes trained on your plate, shoving food into your mouth for a distraction.

then you hear your name, and you snap your gaze up. "huh?"

shoko rolls her eyes, "i was asking if we're going to still do movie night," then she looks over at sukuna for the slightest moment, "or are you too busy for that now?"

"uhm duh, movie night is sacred. i've been waiting for you to move so we could start again."

"good, i was gonna have to murder your little friend otherwise."

eventually you head home, and the week blurs by. shoko tells you her roommates are pretty cool, and that she thinks you'd like them. which is how you end up spending the day on the beach with the three of them.

utahime is pretty. she's got this scar that runs across part of her cheek and the ridge of her nose. you love it. something about it just makes her even prettier. she's pretty 'stiff' if you could call it that. serious about her studies and rigid about breaking rules. though you're sure that'll change eventually. she's funny though. even when she doesn't mean to be. she has this sort of deadpan brutal honesty that just sends you into a fit of giggles.

then there's yuki. you swear she could be a damn supermodel. blonde with gorgeous honey brown eyes. she's loud, confident, and doesn't give a fuck what anyone else thinks. you think she's the sort of girl to be the life of the party, but also probably throw down if someone starts shit with one of her girls. definitely the ride or die girls girl type.

neither you or shoko have ever really had female friends outside of each other so it's… interesting. honestly it's really nice. you didn't realize how much you needed other girls in your life until now. you love shoko, she's your wifey, but you guys definitely needed to meet yuki and utahime.

it happens pretty fast, the development of a friendship—and funny to you, suguru accidentally gets adopted as the brother of yuki and utahime as well. unwittingly taking on the role of feeding you guys, making sure you're safe, driving you places.

over the course of august, you sort of form a group. the girls, suguru, you, and sukuna. seeing as you've been joined at the hip with sukuna, it's not surprising. your and suguru's apartment becomes sort of 'the spot' for everyone. there's always food, you have all the good streaming services, the comfiest couches, and you're close to the best takeout.

life seems to really just be changing. growing. blossoming. and your heart seems to be softening and opening again, maybe even bigger than before.

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"come onnn," yuki whines pouting at you from the living room floor, painting utahime's toenails. "you agreed to a girls day before classes begin!"

you laugh, "yeah, i agreed to saturday. you know i'm busy sundays."

shoko mutters something under her breath that sounds an awful lot like 'whipped.' you choose to ignore her.

utahime tilts her foot to give yuki a better angle, "yuki," she says placating, "girls day doesn't need to be the day before classes. it's fine."

yuki groans louder, "you guys suck."

"just let her go to her boyfriend's family dinner in peace, yuki." shoko says before taking a sip of her drink.

you glare, "for the millionth time, not my boyfriend."

all three girls shoot you disbelieving looks, "uh huh." they chime in unison.

utahime flaps a hand, "moving on from that, are you guys excited or nervous to start classes? i'm kinda nervous."

the blonde at her feet perks back up, "ugh i am so excited. i can't wait to meet people, go to parties, learn more about fashion. it'll be amazing!"

shoko shrugs, "eh. i'll be getting like no sleep, so i'm more… tired thinking about it."

"that's your fault for wanting to do med, sho." you snort, and she flips you off.

they all glance over at you, and you falter for a moment. you're excited, yeah, to start this new journey. but despite however many months it's been and how much you've worked on things you can't help but still feel that… absence. the distinct lack of satoru. you don't think about him nearly as often lately but… this is something you had planned for years together.

you had a list of all the things you wanted to do together when you started university. like the matching tattoos. your lips quirk down a bit. you swallow thickly, "i'm uh. i'm excited it's just…" you trail off, eyes sliding towards the ceiling, "feels kinda… weird. i guess."

yuki and utahime share a look. they knew vague bits from you, and actual details from shoko.

the brunette herself looks at you, face softening. she knows despite how well you're doing, that the space in your heart satoru had lived for nearly thirteen years is... still there. just… hollow. "it's okay to miss him, you know that right?"

you exhale shakily and look at her, "yeah… i know."

shoko squeezes your hand, "maybe one day."

"yeah, maybe one day." you nod, squeezing her back.

that sunday, after having dinner at the itadori household, like you'd been doing since you met them—you find yourself in sukuna's passenger seat, staring out at the dark as scenery flashes by. you'd been quiet all night, had hardly spoken. he could tell something was off.

"you good?" he asks, eyes straight ahead, knuckles tight around the wheel.

you hum, not really giving an answer.

sukuna sighs, frustrated, "fuck this." and then you're veering off the regular path to your apartment—and continuing down the highway.

"uh, where are we going? the exit was back there, 'kuna."

he glances at you for half a second, scowl etched on his face. "i'll take you home later. you obviously need to get shit off your chest. scream, cry, do something."

you stare at him, not quite sure what to say. so you just sit there quietly, until half an hour later you're pulling over on the side of the road. a small pull out against a rocky hillside.

"come on," he says, getting out. he rounds the car and yanks open your door. then he extends a hand, and you take it once you've unbuckled. "watch your step, got it? shit's a bit sketch."

"that's comforting," you mutter but you follow him, watching your feet, taking out your phone to turn the flashlight on. other hand still in his as he guides you up the rocky hill.

it doesn't take long to reach the top, and when you do your mouth goes dry. despite it being dark, the moon casts light across the scene before you—the viewpoint looks over the sprawling ocean, and you feel it in your bones. the urge to memorize the landscape and put it on canvas gnaws at you.

"i come here when i need to think, or… not think." sukuna says, slowly taking a seat, knees drawing up to his chest. you follow in suit, shoulders brushing. "you gonna tell me what the hell's been eatin' at you all day?"

you look at the moon over the ocean, the stars twinkling above, reflecting over the waves. you sigh, "it's stupid," you tell him. "i'm just…" you don't even know where to begin. the moon and the stars above almost feel like they're taunting you. as you recall all the nights you spent sprawled in the grass, staring up at them with satoru.

sukuna doesn't push. he just waits. letting you take the time that you need to figure out what's in your head.

"i've told you about satoru before," you start off, chancing a glance at sukuna. he nods, almost imperceptibly. you know he isn't exactly a fan. still you continue on, "starting my first year tomorrow without him just… it feels weird. almost wrong?"

you go quiet for a moment. as if trying to find the right words.

"for thirteen years my life was… satoru. we lived in our own little world, sharing it only with suguru and shoko," you feel yourself tensing up. it's been a long time since you really talked about him. "satoru was like the sun for me."

sukuna shifts a bit, but still lets you continue on.

"but, the sun isn't always good for you," you say softly. almost sadly. "he was my person, you know? for thirteen years. we did everything together and then—," your throat closes up, and it feels like you've just swallowed glass.

it takes a second but you force yourself to keep talking. "and then, manami happened and i lost him. yeah he was still there but not really. and losing someone who is literally a part of you—that is so fucking intertwined with you it feels like they're physically tunneled into your heart and brain—that sucks."

you feel tears clustering at your waterline but you blink them away. "it was so complicated with him," you shake your head. "but it also wasn't. i don't know? he was my best friend but i also was so fucking in love with him i felt stupid." your fingers dig into the meat of your thighs.

"satoru was home for me," you sigh. "safety. everything was okay if he was there and so when he wasn't? it felt like my world shattered and i just—i didn't know how to put it back together." you can see him in your mind, pretty blue eyes, stupidly gorgeous grin. "so when i had to make the choice—to end things. because manami told him he needed to pick—yeah i did it for him but i also did it for me. because i—," you inhale sharply, "i couldn't live with the scenario of him choosing her."

"fuck—," the tears are falling. you're scrubbing at them, and you feel pathetic. "this is so stupid. i thought i'd moved on but—fuck, i just… i can't believe i'm doing this without him. we had it all planned out," your voice cracks, "we planned our tattoos, we had this scheme where we planned to dominate at beer pong to scam people out of money, we had our study days decided, where we'd spend our different breaks—," you sniff hard. "and now none of that's happening and i don't know what to feel."

you glance back at the stars, "he used to tell me that we were persephone and hades. i thought that was romantic," you laugh, self deprecatingly, "but god. i was so stupid to ever think he'd see me the way i saw him."

your chest is heaving and your vision is blurry, and you can't quite breathe. then—an arm drapes over your shoulders, solid, real—and pulls you close. sukuna drops his chin on the crown of your head, "dude's a fucking idiot." he says, voice gravelly, "but it's okay to feel how you do." his arm tightens a bit, squeezing you lightly, "don't keep this shit to yourself again. you tell me when you're feelin' anything this big got it? don't need you actin' like a kicked puppy all damn day again."

it's not exactly the right way to comfort someone. but it is sukuna's way. and that's enough. you let yourself melt into his side, inhaling the scent of his cologne and the left over scent of dish soap from when the two of you got stuck with dish duty after dinner. it's not home per say, but it's… it's like breathing again. like you can let yourself open your lungs and climb a goddamn mountain. like you can keep going. and right now? that is what you need.

you stay that way for awhile. watching the ocean waves crash against the cliffs. "thanks, 'kuna." you mumble, voice a little slurred, exhaustion seeping into you.

"always here, brat." he sighs, and then he's slowly detaching himself from you and getting to his feet. he reaches a hand out to help you up, "let's get you home before your twin sends out a search party," he grimaces, "or worse, tells your psycho little girlfriends."

that makes you laugh, real, raw. and you take his hand, letting him haul you up. "you're right, let's get going. i need some sort of sleep before tomorrow."

the two of you scale the rocky hillside, and climb back into the car. the road blurs past you, and your body sinks into the seat and your eyes flutter shut, and sleep overtakes you before you even make it home.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

you'd been so nervous about starting the next part of your journey but you slip into new routines with ease. it isn't something you even realize until you're weeks into it. during the week you have morning and early afternoon classes—on tuesday evenings you have the sacred long held tradition of movie night with suguru and shoko. you still take turns cooking, you still take turns choosing the movie, and you all end up curled under fuzzy blankets on the large sectional.

toji doesn't let up on you at the gym—though he does let you change from tuesday and thursdays, to mondays and thursdays. that way it doesn't conflict with your little movie night. you're very grateful to him for that.

sunday evenings are now always reserved for dinner at the itadori household. the kids also demand you attend all their games and competitions—filling up other bits of your spare time. and when you're not doing any of that? you spend time with the girls doing each other's make up and watching trashy tv, you go out for midnight meals with sukuna, you have nights in with suguru eating pasta from the pot.

you've had a newfound inspiration lately, a break through if you will. color blooms on the canvas now, vibrant and full of life—sukuna often lounges on your bed watching as you smear paint around and dance in place to whatever he's got on the portable speaker. he's sort of indoctrinated you to his music taste—old rock, punk, even a bit of 90's rap. you've found that lately your playlists have a lot more metallica, ice cube, and falling in reverse than taylor swift and billie eilish.

there's other changes visible to the eye within your room too. your closet is filled with lacy camisoles, tight dresses, shredded jeans, and cute little skirts. there's hardly any clothing in there now from before the start of june. though in the depths of your drawers there are a few oversized shirts and sweatshirts you still can't let go of. they don't see the light of day though.

above your desk your pinboard is filled to the brim with polaroids, vintage stamps, vintage postcards, various ticket stubs, and many other little mementos. telling the story of your life in the last few months through bits of paper and vinyl.

things are so different but also still the same. it's a beautiful contradiction.

in the corner of your bed sits an absurdly cute godzilla plush that sukuna won you at the boardwalk weeks ago. somehow him and yuiji had worn you down and made you watch all of the current godzilla franchise. you refuse to admit it but you're sort of obsessed now and you cannot wait to take the little pink haired boy to the next movie.

the girl you were last year probably would think the girl you are now is a hallucination. that's okay though because you're starting to really enjoy who you've become. who you're still becoming.

you think, maybe months ago you'd change everything that happened but… now? you wouldn't trade it for anything.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

"keep your eyes closed." yuki tells you as she smears them with soft brown eyeshadow, applying a little bit of shimmer. your eye twitches and she huffs at you. "i'm about to start your eyeliner. don't move, babe. i'm serious!"

you practically stop breathing as she flicks the liquid liner across your lash line. thankfully she's somewhat of a pro at this, so she's rather quick. when she gives you the all clear you blink your eyes open and gasp for breath.

"oh my god did you seriously not breathe that whole time?" she asks laughing, "you're so cute."

you scowl at her and push yourself up from the soft carpeted floor of your bedroom and walk to your walk-in closet and begin sifting for an outfit. your eyes catch on a red camisole. it's got a cute pattern across the breast and it's slightly see through towards the belly. you snag it off the rack and then you pluck off a white miniskirt. you make quick work of changing, before stepping back into the main room.

"so?" you do a twirl for the girls, and yuki wolf whistles, utahime gasps, and shoko lets out a soft damn.

"you're going to ruin men's lives in that," shoko tells you, her eyes tracing you up and down. "ugh, i wish you liked women. we'd be so hot together."

you snort, stepping over to her, draping yourself across her lap, and plant a kiss on her cheek. "maybe in another life, sho."

she rolls her eyes but wraps her arms around you.

it doesn't take long for everyone else to finish up—you were going to your first real college party tonight and you were excited and nervous. the first and last real party you'd been to did not end well. so… hopefully this would be different.

considering you'd be there with your girls, sukuna, and suguru—you know it'll be okay.

when you enter your living room, suguru's waiting, keys swirling around his finger, "you girls ready?" he asks raising his eyebrows.

"yep," you grin, bouncing over, wrapping one arm around his waist, "are you ready?"

he looks down his nose at you, "to deal with you drunk and your friends? absolutely not."

utahime and yuki file in after, and utahime flips suguru off, yuki just laughs. shoko enters last, adjusting her shirt that her boobs are trying their hardest not to spill out of. “dammit, i thought this was bigger,” she mutters to herself.

you laugh and pull back from suguru. “‘kay, let’s go!”

the car ride is quick, though suguru parks a decent ways down the sidewalk from the frat house. the five of you make your way toward the party, the loud bass thrumming even blocks away. you can see lights waving and people milling about.

when you reach the lawn, you can feel it in your veins, and you get this nervous but excited little kick in your step. you’re supposed to find sukuna somehow, but in the throng of people that’s nearly impossible, so instead you follow as yuki forms a little hand train and drags you guys through the party toward the kitchen.

when you enter, it’s lined with all sorts of drinks, some snacks that’ve been picked through, and you find plastic little shot glasses—and yuki immediately begins pouring shots of tequila.

she passes them out. suguru waves her off, saying he’s your guys’ ride home, so it’s just the four of you girls who throw them back. it burns all the way down your throat and into your stomach, settling like a warm puddle and flowing into the rest of your body.

before you can even settle, yuki is grinning and filling your glasses up once more. “one more, then we can dance!” she shouts over the music.

once you all knock it back, she cheers, throws her hands in the air, then begins dragging you all to the large crowd of people dancing in the massive open space—suguru gives a little salute watching as you disappear. you suppose he’ll probably go chain-smoke cigarettes beside the stoners or something.

you make it to the middle of the crowd, bodies pressed together, sweaty and sticky and reeking of liquor and weed. yuki slots herself behind utahime, wicked grin dragging her hands up her hips—and you laugh, throwing your arms around shoko’s neck, dragging her close as you sway to the music.

everything begins to feel warm, fuzzy, and blurry. the four of you continue dancing and dancing and dancing—until you feel like you need to pee now or you’ll seriously piss your damn underwear in the middle of the room.

you shout in shoko’s ear that you’ll be back, and she nods, kissing your cheek before slotting herself in front of utahime. then you’re shoving through the crowd, trying to make sense of this frat house you’ve never been in, searching for the bathroom down the series of hallways. it takes several minutes, but you do find it.

by the time you finish up and head back to the dance floor, you’ve lost sight of the girls. you sigh and head back to the kitchen, hoping maybe to catch sight of suguru or sukuna. it’s a dead end though, so you grab a solo cup and pour yourself a drink of the jungle juice in the massive dispenser. you take a sip and it seriously tastes like fruity lemonade, but it still burns.

you head back out to the dance floor—still unable to find anyone—and dammit, you didn’t bring your purse, which has your phone. you left it back in suguru’s car.

suddenly you feel heat against your back and the trail of a hand down your arm. you freeze for a moment, and then your blood turns to ice when you hear a familiar voice.

“fancy seeing you here,” the sleazy voice says just against the shell of your ear. “we never did get to finish up last time.”

you slowly turn around, fingers clutching your cup, and lock eyes with naoya zenin. it’s been almost a year since he tried to take advantage of you, but it still feels like it was yesterday. but you’re not the same girl you were a year ago.

“what the fuck do you want, naoya?” you demand, shifting your stance subtly into a defensive one, exactly as toji had taught you.

he laughs, smirk tugging at his thin lips. “you’re a little spicier than i remember.” his eyes sparkle with amusement. “we can fix that though.”

you scoff. “the fuck we can,” you bite out.

naoya’s eyes narrow slightly. “you’re cute. you really are,” he drawls, “but with an attitude like that, i don’t understand how that barbarian of yours was so obsessed with you.”

“excuse me?”

he rolls his eyes. “oh please, don’t act like you’re not aware of it. he nearly beat me half to death over you—not to mention his girlfriend sought me out because all he gave a fuck about was you.”

you stiffen. “you’re making shit up. manami cheated on satoru, that’s not his fault.”

“isn’t it? she whined about it all the fucking time. how he would buy her your favorite candies, your favorite flowers. that he hardly paid attention to her after you left him.” naoya shakes his head, sneering. “the clown didn’t even give a fuck that he found her fucking me—apparently all he cared about was that he should’ve left her for you months before.”

it feels like lead is weighing you down. there’s just no way that’s true, and you really don’t even want to entertain that possibility—not when you’ve come so goddamn far.

“stop talking out of your ass, naoya,” you tell him, voice clipped. “now, if you’d excuse me, i need to find my friends.” you step around him—but his hand shoots out, clasping around your wrist, and he tugs, hard. you stumble backward right into his chest.

“don’t be so rude,” his voice is sharp. “like i said, we never got to finish, did we? i have to admit… i am quite curious to find out why your psycho boyfriend is so obsessed.”

his lips hover over the sensitive skin of your neck, and you lock up. halloween last year flashes in your mind. you’re not that fucking girl.

you toss your drink back, chugging it in one go. naoya seems to think this is a sign of him winning you over, but you stomp on his foot, your heel digging in hard. he curses, and his hand comes up to grip your shoulder tight enough to bruise.

“you little bitch—”

it’s practically muscle memory. you drive your elbow backward into his gut, spin on your heel, and sock him across the jaw.

his head snaps to the side, and he spits blood across the floor. the people around you begin to take notice, pausing their movements, whispering, circling around to watch the show.

“hah! you think you can get away with hitting me like that?” his eyes flash dangerously, and he steps forward like he’s going to wrap his fingers around your delicate throat.

you sidestep, despite being tipsy and in stilettos—and then you grab the arm dangling at his side, step behind him, and wrench it up behind him. as you have him pinned, you bring your knee up and slam it directly into his balls from behind, and he drops to his knees.

people are whooping and hollering around you.

naoya is hissing on his knees.

then a shadow looms behind you, and somehow you know exactly who it is. “just what the fuck is happening here?” sukuna’s voice cuts through the din of the room.

naoya forces himself to his feet and turns to face the both of you. “this psycho bitch started hitting me,” he says, grinding his jaw.

sukuna crosses his arms, tilting his head, looking vaguely unamused. “really?” he asks. “she just… decided to beat your ass for fun?”

you roll your eyes. “no, this is the douchebag who tried to take advantage of me last year and then decided to try his luck again.”

something dangerous flashes across sukuna’s face. “oh?” he murmurs, almost to himself. then his face hardens. “someone get him the fuck out of here before i make an example out of him myself.”

naoya tries to argue, but sukuna leans forward, teeth bared. “come near her again and you’ll be picking your teeth up off the fucking curb,” he draws himself back up. “someone. get him out. now.”

two massive men—who you assume are football players—immediately scramble to drag naoya out the door. once he’s out of sight and the crowd disperses, you sag with relief.

sukuna spins you gently to face him, hands gripping your shoulders and holding you at arm’s length like he’s checking you for damage. he sees the faint fingerprints marking your upper arms and practically growls.

“fucking bastard.” then he shakes his head, like he’s shoving his anger away for you. “you good?”

you nod. “yeah, uh,” you shrug, “at least i got to beat his ass this time. i seriously don’t know why the hell he still had the balls to try shit after last time.”

“last time?”

the thought of telling sukuna about last halloween has you shifting awkwardly. “yeah, uh, satoru sorta beat him nearly unconscious. only reason he didn’t catch a charge is ’cause his parents are, like, very wealthy.”

sukuna stares, not quite sure how to respond.

you laugh awkwardly. “i lost the girls. you seen them?”

he shakes his head. “nah, but saw suguru—he’s out back smokin’ with cho.”

“oh, choso came?”

sukuna nods. “yeah, i forced him to. socializing and whatever.” he shifts. “wanna play beer pong?”

the flood of memories of countless nights spent practicing in your parents’ garage rushes through you. you push them back.

you smile. “yeah, that sounds fun. can we get something else to drink though?”

he snorts. “yeah, c’mon.”

despite the hiccup with naoya, the rest of the party is great. you definitely get progressively more drunk, but you absolutely wreck everyone at beer pong. you and sukuna become sort of unstoppable as a duo, and you easily sweep the competition, winning the grand prize.

eventually you do find the girls again toward the end of the night. they’re tipsy and tripping over themselves, leading to suguru deciding it’s time to go home. so you bid sukuna goodnight, standing on the tiptoes of your heels, pressing a light kiss to his cheek, and when choso appears beside him, you grin, giving him a quick hug.

then you pile into suguru’s car and head home.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

lunch becomes sort of a ritual. no matter what day it is, you all meet on the quad after grabbing your respective meals. despite it being fall, it’s still decent out, so you lounge in the grass, bitching about class, homework, and teachers.

if your schedules allow it, sukuna typically picks you up from class, and you grab food together before meeting the others. it’s nice, normal.

some days, suguru packs lunch for everyone when he’s feeling nice. those are your favorite days.

but as the semester continues on, so does life outside of coursework. you still train, you still paint, you go to parties, you go to family dinner every sunday. after sukuna opened his mouth about your twin one day, mama itadori demanded you begin to bring him—something about never leaving anyone out. which is how suguru gets adopted into the family as well.

choso and him hit it off great. they’d hung out a few times previously when sukuna dragged him places, but after the first family dinner? best of friends.

it’s nice, seeing your twin have someone else besides you and shoko… or satoru. the feeling it gives you is full and warm. he truly deserves the best.

he isn’t really one for parties like the rest of you, preferring to just be dd. however, there’s a night where he has a project due at midnight, so he isn’t able to go—which leads to sukuna being appointed as the drunk girl wrangler instead.

you get absolutely fucking trashed—it’s maybe two weeks into october—and the girls somehow convince you that eight shots of tequila and mixed drinks are a brilliant idea. you’re wearing a slinky satin dress, strap falling off your shoulder, hair mussed, and makeup a little smudged at your eyes.

you’re giggling in the front seat of sukuna’s car. he’d tasked choso with getting the other three home, so that left just the two of you—you were much more of a handful tonight than usual, so yeah, he did not want to add the others to the mix.

“‘kunaaaaa,” you whine, looking over at him. “i want fries, pleaseeee.”

he glances at you, sighing. “really? it’s like, two o’clock in the morning.”

you pout. “please, they sound so good, it’s all i want!” tears begin to form along your thick lashes, and he internally curses.

“fuck, fine. we’ll go through fuckin’ mcdonald’s, just don’t start that crying shit,” he grumbles, immediately switching his route toward the closest mcdonald’s to get your stupid french fries.

the drive-thru is dead, so you get your fries pretty quick, and the moment he hands them over, you light up like a christmas tree. “ah! thank you, ‘kuna!” you gush before shoving a handful into your mouth, melting into the seat.

he rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah.”

you munch happily on the fries, swaying in your seat, and your eyes slowly begin to droop—until your body edges toward the passenger door, and you’re slumped against it, light snores drifting from you.

“seriously?” he sighs, glancing at you. it’s not even five minutes later when he pulls into your apartment complex. he parks, shuts off the engine, rounds the car, and opens your door.

you stir slightly, eyes slowly blinking. “s’re we home, ‘kuna?”

he nods. “yeah, let’s getcha inside.” he leans down and unbuckles you before collecting your purse and slinging it over his shoulder. “c’mon,” he mutters, reaching out to lift you into his arms.

you loop your arms around his neck and nuzzle into him the moment he has you in the air, tucked against his chest. “you’re always so sweet,” you whisper against his throat, breathing little breathy sighs.

“uh huh.” he adjusts you, one arm beneath your legs, the other around your back.

he enters the code to your building, knowing it by heart, then strides across the ghost-town lobby and presses the elevator button. once it opens, he steps inside, already clicking on your floor number.

you watch blearily as the numbers tick up. up, up.

the elevator dings, the door slides open, and he heads straight for your apartment. “you got your keys?”

“mmm,” you furrow your eyebrows. “dunno.”

he groans, then knocks at the door, hoping to god your twin’s awake.

it’s barely a few moments later that suguru opens the door, looking half-awake. he takes one look at you and sighs, simply opening the door wider for sukuna to enter.

“you gonna help me get ready for sleep, ‘kuna?” you ask, voice soft, your eyes sliding closed again.

“the hell would i do that for?”

you nuzzle him. “cause you love me, duh.” he stiffens. “you’re like, my best friend. ‘sides shoko. that’s just like… best friend duty.”

he relaxes a bit. “yeah, whatever.”

suguru snorts and shakes his head, heading back to his bedroom—too tired to watch whatever the hell is currently going on.

just as you asked, though, sukuna sets you on your bed and gets out some soft pajamas for you. once you’ve changed, he helps you to the bathroom, gently setting you on the counter so he can wipe off your makeup.

“gotta do my skincare, ‘kuna!”

he groans, but nonetheless helps you through your night routine. he’s seen you do it a million times, so he knows mostly what to do. next he sets your toothbrush, applies toothpaste, and pushes it into your hands.

once you spit it out, he takes your hair and helps you braid it, then guides you back to your bedroom. “okay, in bed,” he says, tucking the covers over you.

“night, ‘kuna,” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut. he stands there for a moment until your breathing evens out. then he heads to your kitchen to grab you a glass of water, crackers, and some meds. he sets them on your nightstand and walks to your desk, grabbing one of your silly little glitter pens to write a note on a sticky pad for you.

take the medicine, dumbass. eat the crackers. and make sure to eat some real food and chug water. - sukuna

then he’s gone, letting you sleep peacefully, all soft and prepared for bed.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

the rest of october passes in a blur. halloween is fun—you attend yet another frat party. the girls try to convince you to do a group costume, but you’d already made sukuna promise to dress up with you. the two of you are going as team rocket, since pokémon had sort of become a running thing between you. whenever one of you didn’t feel great, you’d watch it together.

with you out of the running, the girls con suguru into joining their group costume. they dress as the teenage mutant ninja turtles—it’s honestly amazing.

but once october has come and gone, that means midterms are coming up fast.

so, you decide that you need to cram.

which leads to you and sukuna sprawled out on your bed way too fucking late, reading flash cards that you’re doing your best to memorize. there are scattered snacks and energy drinks around the bed. you’re a little delirious at this point and way too many red bulls deep.

you reach out to grab another when sukuna swats your hand. “no, you’ve had too damn many. you’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

“i haven’t even reached my max!”

he glares. “you have now. touch it again and i’ll chuck it out the goddamn window.”

you groan, flopping back onto your mountain of pillows. “you’re so meannnn,” you whine.

“no, i care about your health, dumbass.”

you shift so you can glance at him, a feline smile curling your glossy lips. “awwh, you care about me?”

sukuna glares. “would i be here at three o’clock in the morning helping you study whatever stupid art history shit this is if i didn’t care?”

that makes you giggle. “true. you love me sooo bad, ‘kuna.”

he rolls his eyes. “only when you’re not being stupid.”

“ugh! see, so mean to meeee!” you shove at him with your socked foot, and he easily catches it, pressing a firm thumb into the arch of your foot.

you groan. “oh, do that again.” you hadn’t even realized how tense your feet were.

“your feet probably hurt because you’ve been painting nonstop lately. you need a stool or something,” he mumbles, gently pressing his thumbs into your feet. he glances at your easel, where you stand the entire time you paint—for hours sometimes.

“don’t care, just keep doin’ that,” you hum, letting your head fall back again, sighing in contentment. “you sure you wanna be a football player? you’re like reaaally good at this.”

sukuna gives you a look, despite your eyes being closed. “yes, let me drop my future nfl career to become a masseuse. great idea.”

you laugh. “okay fine, maybe just my masseuse then.”

“whatever,” he grumbles, but he doesn’t stop his motions, and you sink further into your bed—flash cards and red bulls laying forgotten beside you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

you and suguru decided in advance you wouldn’t be going home for thanksgiving. why would you when you’d probably be alone anyway? this is how friendsgiving at your apartment became a thing. the moment yuki caught wind of you guys staying, she demanded everyone stay.

utahime shrugged, not really wanting to drive back home. shoko would rather be with you guys anyway. so, the five of you planned out your thanksgiving meal.

as the literal chef, suguru of course was in charge of the majority of things—like the turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and all that. you girls were each left in charge of varying things.

you were in charge of dessert. easy peasy—you’ve always loved to bake. the only challenge is sharing the kitchen with suguru. it’s like dealing with gordon ramsay.

yuki declared herself in charge of decorations. whatever that meant.

utahime was in charge of grabbing the things that didn’t need to be cooked—like dinner rolls, chips, and whatever little snacks were needed.

and shoko, she was tasked with obtaining champagne or wine.

the day of, everything seems to come together mostly fine. only a little hiccup of you and suguru nearly fist-fighting over the oven—but other than that, everything goes surprisingly well.

you’re all dished up, sitting on the sectional, hallmark movie queued, champagne poured—when there’s a knock at the door.

suguru furrows his eyebrows, setting his plate on the coffee table and heading to see who’s there. when he swings it open, sukuna is standing there, bottle of whiskey in hand. “cool if i crash your little party?”

yuki perks up, craning her head, eyes locking onto the whiskey. “when you come bearing gifts like that? hell yeah!”

suguru steps aside to let him in, telling him to set the bottle down and go dish up. by the time sukuna takes a seat beside you, plate piled high, you glance at him. “thought you were busy with the family today?”

he shrugs. “we did everything late morning so the gremlins can go to bed on time.” he spreads his legs out, knee nudging yours. “figured i’d eat a second gourmet meal.”

you roll your eyes. “only here for the food, huh?”

sukuna eyes you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “something like that.”

you shift in your seat, then look over at suguru, who has the remote. “press play, i wanna watch the movie already.”

definitely not going to acknowledge that.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

you’re bundled up in a thick winter coat and snow pants, with little earmuffs to match. “why did i agree to this?” you ask out loud, blowing warm air onto your gloved hands.

it’s freezing fucking cold. somehow you’d let sukuna convince you to go snowboarding—which you’re horrible at. you’re positive you’ll be bruised for weeks after this.

“because it’s fun,” he smirks. “c’mon, let’s go again, sweetheart.”

you groan, but you strap yourself back in and indulge him.

it’s a good distraction, really. which you needed. it’s december 7th—satoru’s birthday. when sukuna casually brought up the idea of snowboarding on saturday, you couldn’t say yes fast enough. anything to keep you busy and out of your head.

though you may be regretting it just a tiny bit.

you have to focus hard as you hurtle down the snowbank, and then halfway down you hit a rock and you’re flipping and crashing once again. you curse ten ways to sunday, and sukuna’s laughing his ass off as he makes his way back up the hill to you.

“geez, you really do suck at this,” he chuckles, clearly enjoying himself.

“not everyone’s a star athlete like you, asshole,” you snap back, but you take his hand when he offers it.

the two of you pick up your boards and begin hiking back up through the snow again. “okay, i’ll give you a break. let’s go warm ya up in the café.”

thank god.

once you’re inside, you plop down right at the table beside the open fire. you peel your jacket off and let the warmth from the flames seep into your bones, sighing with relief. sukuna flags down a waitress and orders hot chocolate for the both of you.

you mumble out a thanks.

your eyes drift toward the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ski hills—people rushing down the banks, falling, laughing. it’s hard not to stare at the snow, because when you look at it, all you can think of is him.

sukuna glances at you. “something on your mind?”

you hesitate before shaking your head. “nah. just really cold.”

he narrows his eyes, definitely not believing you, but he lets it go when your drinks arrive.

so you sip your hot chocolate and relax in your chair, willing all thoughts of satoru from your mind.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

december is filled with so much warmth despite being such a cold month. yeah, sure, you have finals—which sucks—but hey, you ace the shit out of them. what really makes december amazing though is the found family you’ve made and the new friends you’ve come to cherish.

you decorate gingerbread houses with the girls, you go to the winter market with sukuna, you and suguru spend christmas at the itadori house, you drink obscene amounts of hot chocolate, and you just truly appreciate those around you.

then before you know it—new year’s eve creeps up on you.

there’s a huge party that night, just like there always is. so you get dressed in a glittery little dress and silver heels, obnoxious number glasses on your face. the girls are meeting you there—you’d told them to go ahead without you—and stupidly, you decide to pregame while you get ready, drinking the leftover whiskey from thanksgiving.

you’re dolled up, hair curled just right, makeup perfected, and your outfit clinging in all the right spots. and you’re already a bit drunk. maybe you shouldn’t be drinking whiskey straight from the bottle.

before you head to the living room to tell suguru you’re ready, you find yourself flopped onto your plush bed, on your belly, scrolling through your phone.

it’s the new year—or about to be.

you aren’t sure if this is a good idea or not, but… you decide hey, it’s been long enough, and you don’t want to start a new year with anything negative clinging to you. so you unblock satoru’s number and socials. for just a moment, you let yourself glimpse at his instagram—there are only a few new posts you hadn’t seen.

which is shocking. he was addicted to social media last you knew. the photos are mostly of himself, a blonde guy you don’t recognize, his campus, and of course, desserts. your eyes linger a little too long on his most recent selfie. it makes your heart squeeze, because god, how did he become even more handsome?

you feel your pulse spike, and you quickly tap out of the screen and shut your phone off. nope. not going to linger there any longer.

it takes a moment or two to collect yourself, but you grab your purse, shove your phone inside, and stroll into the living room—a bit wobbly on your feet. “let’s gooo, sugu!”

he looks at you. “you’re already drunk?”

your lips thin, and you struggle for a moment to keep yourself together. “just figured i’d pregame since the girls probably did too,” your voice slurs a bit. “anyway, let’s go!”

suguru’s eyes don’t leave you. “are you alright?”

“i’m fine, sugu.” you brush past him, opening the door. “let’s hurry up before yuki starts blowing up our phones.”

from there, the night’s a bit… choppy.

you drink more.

you dance.

you play beer pong.

then suddenly you’re on the dance floor, arms hooked around sukuna’s neck, your eyes half-lidded, staring up at him so soft. “y’know, you’re kinda pretty in like… a rugged way, ‘kuna.”

he arches an eyebrow. “pretty? don’t think i’ve gotten that one before.”

you laugh, and you’re so close you can feel his breath fan across your face. his pupils are blown wide as he stares down at you, lips slightly parted. his throat works—you see the bob of his adam’s apple.

then you hear commotion—and the sound of the countdown beginning.

10…

your eyes flicker to his lips for just a moment.

9…

his hands tighten slightly at your waist.

8…

you open your mouth to speak.

7…

“‘kuna—”

6…

you feel him still ever so slightly.

5…

“i—”

4…

his eyes are pouring into yours.

3…

“i’m gonna find sho.”

2…

you slip from his arms, turning toward the left where you spot a familiar head of brunette hair.

1…

you slip in front of your best friend, grinning, and pull her in for a quick kiss. when you pull away, you’re both giggling into each other’s arms. and unbeknownst to you, sukuna’s heart is still hammering as he watches—disappointed, but not entirely surprised. he knows you’re not ready. not yet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

the new semester brings a new major art project—you’re supposed to work on something to submit to a showcase by the end of the semester. it’s a national showcase, and if you win? your art will be featured in a major gallery, and you’ll win a grant for school. you’ve already decided that if you’re lucky enough to win, you’ll use it for supplies.

you’ve found a new favorite color when painting—red. from shades of pastel pink to deep crimson. it just feels so alive, like there’s emotion bleeding off the canvas.

this means you hole yourself up in the studio more than usual, to the point your teacher gives you a key so that you’re able to come and go at your leisure. it slowly becomes a sort of sanctuary for you.

you’re working on a new piece—it’s been maybe a month since the semester began, early february. it’s rough for now, but it’s a beautiful view—the one you’d seen all those months ago when sukuna drove you to see the ocean in the middle of the night. rather than blacks and blues of the night though, you paint the scene in a series of pink, white, and little bits of red.

there’s a knock at the art studio window, and you glance over. sukuna’s standing there, hands tucked in his jacket pockets. you smile softly and get off the stool you were using, because he’d complained about you standing for too long without realizing.

you open the door and he slips inside, trailing behind as you return to your canvas. he eyes it, but he doesn’t say anything.

“you gonna just stay in here all night?” he asks, leaning against the wall beside you.

“yeah, why wouldn’t i?” you ask, furrowing your brows, confused.

he gives you a look like you’re kinda dumb. “it’s valentine’s day, dumbass.”

you blink. “oh, i didn’t even realize.”

sukuna snorts. “course you didn’t.” he shakes his head. “alright, put the paint down, we’re gonna go eat.”

“but—”

“nope. put that shit down or i’ll dump out all your paint.”

“sukuna!”

he steps forward, picking up the pink you’d just been using. “i’m being serious, sweetheart.”

you snatch it from his hand, then drop your brush to the easel tray. “fine. why do we need to go out anyway? it’s just valentine’s day.”

sukuna rolls his eyes and drags you out the door. “what kinda man would i be if i let you paint all night instead of taking you out to eat?”

“i dunno, a normal one? it’s not like i’m your girlfriend—”

“uh huh. shut up, we’re going to get that sushi place you like.”

you squawk. “i am literally covered in paint!”

he glances over his shoulder at you. “and? i don’t care. let’s go eat.”

you sigh. “whatever, but if we get dirty looks, it’s on you,” you grumble, letting him drag you to his car. “you better be paying.”

sukuna shakes his head. “when don’t i, sweetheart?”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

spring break is approaching fast, and you wish you could go with the girls to san diego, but you are so close to finishing your work for the project—and you cannot lose momentum.

suguru, the traitorous bastard, somehow got roped into heading to cancún with choso, toji, and jin. sukuna was supposed to go as well, for their boys’ trip, but then his coach told him there would be mandatory practice during break. so that plan went out the window.

with both toji and jin going on vacation, you told delia you’d help her however she needed with the kids. though uraume was supposed to be visiting to help out too, so you weren’t sure entirely how much you’d be called upon.

that is until you get a call from uraume a few days into spring break.

“hey.” her cold, clipped voice greets you—you’ve learned it’s not personal, it’s just literally how she talks.

“what’s up, mei?” you ask, propping your phone to your ear as you detail a small section of your canvas.

“i was thinking about taking mom for a surprise spa day tomorrow. if you’re not busy, could you watch the demons?”

you find yourself laughing. “they’re not demons, mei.”

“yes they are.”

“they’re gremlins at most,” you retort. “but yeah, i’ll be home—just drop them off. delia deserves a day to relax.”

“cool. i’ll drop them at eight tomorrow.” then, almost like an afterthought, “thanks. you’re my favorite sibling.”

you just shake your head even though she can’t see it. “i don’t think that’s a very high bar, but i’ll take it.”

“mhm,” uraume hums. “okay, see you in the morning.”

“bye, mei.”

“bye.”

the line clicks, and you drop your brush back onto the tray so you can grab your phone and set it down. you’re already internally planning what snacks and such to grab from the store on your way home for the kids tomorrow.

they behave for you relatively well—better than they do for sukuna, at least. you’ve watched them with him many times now, and several times by yourself. usually all you have to do is keep them fed, put on something decent to watch, leave them stuff to color with, and they’re content.

you decide to call it a day, stretching your arms over your head before you remove your apron. better to go get everything you need now and prep before they arrive in the morning.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

before the kids even arrive, you’ve already gotten ready for the day ahead—nothing too crazy though, just a simple camisole (a pretty green one sukuna had gotten for your birthday last month) and some comfortable jeans. your hair is loose around your shoulders, and your makeup is simple.

you don’t exactly plan on doing anything much today except maybe taking the kids to the park a few blocks away. sukuna will be over later today after practice—you’d agreed to take the kids to their extracurriculars today too.

just as she said, uraume arrives right at eight o’clock, three sleepy children in tow. she gently pushes them inside—they’ve all got their little backpacks on, filled with whatever they’d need today. once they’re filing into the living room behind you, she nods approvingly. “thank you for taking them,” she says, gaze meeting yours. “i will see you guys later tonight.” then she’s gone.

the sound of the kids chattering fills your ears as you shut the door and turn to them. they’re already tossing their bags to the floor, shoes kicked off, and clambering onto the couch.

“you guys eat breakfast yet?” you ask, placing your hands on your hips.

“we had snacks!” yuji says, grinning.

megumi huffs. “no, auntie mei only let us have breakfast bars. she didn’t want to be late.”

yeah, sounds about right. “okay, well i’ll make something for you guys to eat then, okay?”

you drop your arms and head over to the kitchen, starting to pull out simple staples for breakfast—eggs, bacon, mix for pancakes. then you hear the soft pitter-patter of socked feet, and glance down to see tsumiki at your side, small hands on the counter. she’s on her tiptoes, trying to look over it. “can i help? grandma always lets me help.”

she’s staring at you with those wide brown eyes and her dark raven locks swishing in the high ponytail uraume had done for her. it looks a little painful if you’re being honest, but she doesn’t seem to be complaining, so…

“yeah, why don’t you mix the batter for me? i’ll grab the stool.” you brush past her and head to the hallway closet to grab the step stool for her.

when you come back and set it down for her, she gives you a dazzling little smile and hops up, reaching for the mix you’d already grabbed out. you bustle around setting the bowl out for her, along with the measuring cup with water, and a whisk. tsumiki doesn’t need much direction as she pours the mix into the bowl and adds the water.

you focus on starting the eggs and bacon at the stove. it doesn’t take more than a few minutes for you to have everything set up and sizzling.

that’s when your phone buzzes next to the stove. you pick it up, making sure it’s not anything important.

from: twin 🖤🧑‍🍳

hey. just letting you know you’re going to have a visitor today.

you furrow your brow, confused. are your parents stopping by or something? there isn’t anyone else you can think of that wouldn’t just text or call you.

to: twin 🖤🧑‍🍳

are mom and dad stopping by or something?? is everything okay??

from: twin 🖤🧑‍🍳

god no. i wouldn’t do that to you. everything is fine. love you 😘

to: twin 🖤🧑‍🍳

wdym then who is it???

read.

to: twin 🖤🧑‍🍳

suguru.

you better explain yourself right now

hello???????

he doesn’t reply, and you glare at your phone. then you shake your head, setting it down, and focus back on breakfast. maybe thirty or so minutes later, with tsumiki’s help, you have the kids situated around the table eating. so you let yourself relax a bit, glancing at the clock on the wall. it’s still pretty early, and you’re still wondering what the hell suguru meant by “visitor.”

the morning wears on. after breakfast, you set them up to color in the living room. cartoons play on the tv in the background—some awful godzilla cartoon yuji’s been obsessed with. you settle yourself on the couch with a book, letting yourself fall into the fictional world for a bit to ease your anxiety.

“megumi, i was using that!” yuji whines, making you look up to see megumi using a green crayon.

tsumiki is off to the side in her own little world, using colored pencils for her picture. you never really have to worry about her—it’s usually the two boys.

you sigh. “megumi, did you take it from yuji?”

megumi looks up at you blankly. “no, he left it on the ground. he’s coloring with the orange one.”

“is that true, yuji?”

the pink-haired boy pouts. “i was gonna use it,” he tells you.

you chuckle, shaking your head. “well, you weren’t using it right then, so megumi’s going to use it. when he’s done, you can have it back, okay?”

“okaaay…” yuji sighs dejectedly, going back to his orange crayon.

you’re about to continue reading when you hear a knock at the door. the kids don’t pay it much mind, still focused on their pictures. you feel anxiety clawing up in your stomach, filling your limbs and weighing them down. “i’ll be right back, guys. stay here.”

there’s another knock. “coming!” you call out, rising to your feet and heading to the front door. the door is situated in the dining room and kitchen area, just out of view of the living room.

you’re cursing whoever designed this door without a peephole as you unlock it. fingers slick with sweat, you wrap them around the knob and pull it open. and the moment you do, your heart slams in your chest.

standing there, hands in his pockets, looking as goddamn perfect as always—with his perfectly tousled snowy hair and big blue eyes—is satoru. satoru, who was your best friend, who you’d been in love with forever, who you haven’t seen in nearly a fucking year.

“satoru?”

he grins nervously. “hey.” he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “long time no see, yeah?”

you’re going to fucking kill your brother.

trin speaks: hey guys!! sorry this took forever to get out i’ve been in a pretty rough flare health wise !! i will say i doooo have the interlude already prepared!! just need to do some finishing touches.

i hope to start working on part three soon <3 MWAH! thanks for supporting! likes, comments, reblogs are all appreciated! i always love hearing your thoughts!

taglist is still open if you want to be added, it’ll be in a few separate posts or i just made a new blog @honeysupdates where i’ll start reblogging updates !!

if you have requested to be tagged and you aren’t please let me know on this post thanks!!!

Some men would go to the forest late afternoon, solely to come back the next morning, long before the first crowing of the cock. With dreamy eyes veiled by a mist and minds completly blank, as if the night creatures of the woods sucked their memories away.  

They would reckon some bits and snippets of nightly wander, with cold wind brushing their cheeks and hazy visions of a woman's voice pulling them towards the weird-looking hut. But they could never remember the details, and thus the forest witch was nothing but a tale creeping through the creaky windows of the wooden houses.

The villagers stayed away from the woods, and children were forbidden from going near.

And everyone went by this silent rule.

Oh, well… almost everyone.

For two lumberjacks, Toji Fushiguro and Sukuna Ryomen, could not care less about the trumped-up fable.

Two massive, burly men – the biggest in the village, truly, and the only ones providing the thick timber logs.

It was not that other husbands didn’t dare to dive into the woods, but rather… well, there was just too much harvest, and every pair of strong hands was needed. At least that was the thought that allowed them to sleep serenely.

Without risking their lives, without the danger of meeting spectral creatures and chicken-legged huts.

But Toji and Sukuna have only believed in things they could see. Touch, experience, remember in detail. That was why the tale of a forest hag sounded to them both rather foolish, almost made up.

Did their mothers, grandmothers and great-grandmothers warn them about the dangers of the forest?

Surely.

But even as nippers, they couldn’t keep their prying eyes away from the thick greens, with one tree spookier than the other. 

Thus, now, at the age of thirty-five, they still didn’t care about all the rumours going around. And the daily occurrence of villagers tucking tightly inside their houses after the last beams of sun left the earth was quite amusing.

Fools, they have thought, while going back and forth between the forest and a village every single day.

Until, well… until one day they saw a hut.

The dusk has fallen quietly over the golden fields, with a deep purple blanket covering the sky. Nothing but a faint glimmer of stars crept through the dense trees, and both men found themselves rather lost.

They had never gone that deep into the woods, but the need for logs was higher around that time as the summer solstice was just around the corner. And with the planned celebrations, grand feast and fire jumping, they would need much more timber than usual.

It was not that they couldn’t find their way out, but all the looming trees started to resemble eerie creatures. With branches curling restlessly behind their backs, as if trying to brush two foolish souls passing through the enchanted woods. The lethargic melody of crickets was long gone, leaving the forest in a deathly silence.

Nightly wind brushed their dust-covered shirts, bringing a gentle shiver down their spines.

Was it caused by a cold?

Or maybe by a deep, dread feeling of someone, something, lurking behind the gnarled branches?

They walked farther and farther, thinking that they were getting closer to the familiar fields of the village. Thinking that the little pond they passed every day was right behind the next tree, with slimy frogs humming on the cold stones. That soon they would notice a golden glimpse of not-yet-sickled wheat and wooden houses filled with candled warmth.

Their backs burned from all the gathered logs, and eyes tried to see through the thick darkness filling the forest air. Not even stars could help them, and for the first time in their lives, a bizarre thought had crossed their mind.

That maybe they could have listened to all the cautionary tales about the dangers of the woods. 

That the trees were truly unpredictable and wicked, with their sharp needles poking their skins.

That a faint meow stretching between the softwoods was a bad omen.

"Did you hear it?" Sukuna murmured, stopping in tracks. 

Toji furrowed, finger gripping the saw firmer. "Was that a fucking cat?"

They stood in place, listening carefully for another sign that some normal, living creature was wandering somewhere around.

Another soft meow sent a shiver down their spines.

"Why would a cat be here?" Sukuna murmured, going towards the source.

Whether it was a foolish decision or not, they would need to find out on their own.

As the cat could mean two things – firstly, another village somewhere nearby and a place where they could spend the night. 

Secondly…

"You know why," Toji murmured, with all the warnings his grandmother had stuffed into his head suddenly lighting up.

Sukuna scoffed, looking over his shoulder. "Don’t tell me you’re scared."

"Fuck no."

But why would the cat be here? He wanted to add.

They moved slowly, with the muffled meows growing clearer and higher-pitched, but none of them noticed a feline slipping between the branches. 

They walked for another five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes, and even glimmering stars looked down at their sweating backs with a silent frown. Wandering that deep into the forest could not finish well.

But then, something appeared.

A hut.

Tall and looming, resembling something straight out of those delirious tales they loved to ignore that much. Spreading an eerie atmosphere, with a cold air biting much harsher than before. 

It stood in the middle of the woods, having a skull–topped fence surrounding it in a neat circle and a black cat sitting lazily on one of the milky heads. Wet earth dipped under the big, thick claws of a long chicken leg, made of nothing but skin and bones.

At its top sat a small house. Made of dark wood, with smooth walls and a crooked roof pinned rather messily. 

Both men furrowed their brows, seeing no doors nor windows, although grey mist loomed over the bended chimney.

A cat meowed, a raven croaked, and the woods came even closer, as if inviting them in and slowly covering all the paths with their thick branches.

"Yeah, I’m not doing it," Toji murmured.

Sukuna’s crimson eyes gazed at the wicked hut before a sight slipped away. "Fuck no."

They needed a single glance to turn around on their feet and walk away. As far as they could, till the endless plains of woods would let them out.

Because, at some point, they would find the right path. Probably.

Thus they walked, and walked, and walked till their legs were burning and faint meowing was left far behind. The trees never changed, bending and curling above their heads like spider’s webs, with leaves and needles dropping onto their shoulders.

The air was biting frost, although summer had almost come, and carried a lingering taste of rottenness.

At some point, they finally saw a faint glow. Pale glimmer, drawing from between the dense trees. A rise of hope bubbled in their chests, with fingers gripping the saws and legs suddenly moving much faster. 

They finally found it – an exit from this wicked forest.

With crows following their every step and darkness sharpening its teeth to swallow them whole. 

Little stones rolled beneath their feet, cheeks bled from the curled branches slashing through their skin, backs dipped under the weight of carried logs, but then they took the one last step and–

And found themselves back in the hut.

The faint glow they had chased was just a moonlight bouncing off the skull fence. The cat was still there, with yellow eyes glancing at them rather cheekily – as if the feline knew that both men were already done for.

Grey smoke still curled around the chimney, but this time it was much denser. Thicker, and it seemed that someone must’ve been inside this little, wooden house. 

"Dear God," Toji murmured, taking a deep breath. "How is it possible?"

Sukuna’s brows furrowed, crimson eyes slashing with the cat’s amused gaze. "I don’t know, but we need to keep moving."

"Where? We walked for twenty minutes and did a fucking circle."

They didn’t dare to walk past the skull-topped fence and thus stood still at the edge of the forest. Trees behind them chanted wickedly, tickling the backs of their sweating necks.

"You’re right, okay, let’s try that way," Sukuna pointed out at another path. "Maybe we will find a neighbouring village."

So they did just that.

And when their eyes caught a sinister hut again, towering over the looming trees, they both cursed under their breaths.  

Each path they took always led them straight towards the skull-topped fence, and after the fourth time, they finally crossed its border. They walked past the creamy heads and purring feline before standing by the bony chicken leg.

Everything looked like a nightmare – the hut, the fence, the moonlight shining on their wet foreheads and a cat, slowly sitting up. 

Like a fever dream they couldn’t wake up from, and every little detail of the tales whispered by the villagers suddenly flooded their minds.

They didn’t want to end up as the blasphemous hag’s sweet little treats. With their bones licked clean and dumped down the endless pit of her basement. 

If they wanted to get out of the forest before sunrise, they needed to act quickly.

"Let’s cut this down," Toji suddenly rolled, leaving Sukuna speechless.

"You mean, the leg?"

The man nodded, with scarred lips curving up. "If we’re going to die anyway, why not get her first? If she’s as old as everyone says, killing her would surely be a piece of cake."

A silence stretched between them, as if both Sukuna and a black cat and a big crow, that had sat quietly on the fence, were trying to process what he just said. 

"You want to murder an old lady?"

Toji scoffed. "Don’t look at me like that. She’s a witch!"

"But she’s also a…" Sukuna wanted to say a human, but he wasn’t entirely sure.

Was she a human?

Or maybe a spawn of the devil, a satab itself?

Toji gripped an axe tighter, poking the bony leg with the wooden end. It was rather thin, and he wondered how such a fragile thing could hold a whole hut. 

A spell?

"Why won’t we just cut it down first and see whether she’s there?" Sukuna murmured, lifting his axe.

"And if she’ll be there, we will…"

Sukuna tsked. "Let’s see first. Maybe, if we ask nicely, a hag will let us go. Maybe she’s not even that bad as people say."

None of them believed it, and creamy skulls sitting quietly on long bones should be evidence enough.

They both raised axes – with muscular forearms bulging under the muscles and eyes glued to the thin ankle of the chicken’s leg. It was steady, with long claws gripping the earth and yellow skin pulsing under the spilling moonlight.

And the moment their arms had swung, something hit them.

No, something has burst at their faces, and only then have they noticed a row of puffballs. With white caps breaking under their heavy shoes and powdery clouds erupting right into their noses.

But it seemed they weren’t just normal mushrooms, as the world in front of the men’s eyes started to swirl. Gaze slipped into fogginess, and lungs filled with a bitter powder. It burned their throats, chests, pushing sharp needles into their hearts, till both fell to their knees. 

They cat meowed softly in the back, the crow hummed, and the moonlight could only glance down pitifully at two lumberjacks slowly sacking out.

𖤐 𖤐 𖤐

When Sukuna slowly opened his eyes, something heavy lay sprawled on his chest. Warm and purring, with black fur floating around his lips and soft paws brushing his nose. 

The cat, the same one they saw just a while ago, sat down right above his heart, with yellow eyes glued to his slowly waking up face.

His mind was still a bit dizzy, and the bitter aftertaste of mushrooms swirled on his tongue, sticking to each and every corner of his throat. There was something soft under his body, although, surprisingly, he noticed that he lay shirtless.

And as it turned out, Toji was undressed too.

Spread right next to him, with hands lifted high up and wrists tied to a… bed frame?

Fuck, slipped silently, as he realised that his wrists were tied too. Strong enough not to rip the smooth fabric, but soft enough not to hurt his skin. 

"What is this place?" Toji murmured, only now waking up from a deep slumber.

Sukuna couldn’t see anything because of the fluffy beast purring on his chest, but Toji…

"Fucking hell," he whispered, feeling his heart flutter.

Sukun turned head his way, seeing the emerald eyes of his friend glued to something in front of them.

Someone, maybe. 

You.

A witch.

Your back was covered by a velvet, purple robe, brushing the wooden floor. Wide sleeves hung from your wrists, moving like clouds with every gentle swoosh of your hand. Toji couldn’t see much of your face, but only its profile – soft and kind, with plump lips murmuring something under your breath and hair hugging your cheeks. 

The inside of the hut was much larger than they had thought, and surely you must’ve used a kind of special spell. Rows and rows of books lay messily on shelves, with dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. A massive, brass cauldron stood right next to you on the low wooden table, with eerie greenish mist floating above the bubbling water. 

It looked warm, rather cosy, filled with the gentle crackling of candles and their yellow glow lighting up your furrowed brows.

When Sukuna sneezed, feeling the fur tickling his nose, you turned their way.

"Oh my," slipped in melody, and Toji held his breath. Your face was even more beautiful than he had thought, with beaming eyes curving in a gentle smile. "Apologies, mister. Lucifer, go away, let him breathe," you shooed the cat, before sitting at the end of the bed.

And then Sukuna could finally see you – an angel.

Or rather, a witch, as the legends said.

But your countenance looked nothing like the tales forsweared, as Sukuna’s breath hitched upon seeing a glimmer dancing behind your eyes. So soft and kind. Plush lips twisted in a smile, and when his gaze slipped down, something in his lower body moved.

Toji couldn’t see it before, but the purple robe flowing down your figure was much more flimsy than he had thought. With your soft collarbones gleaming under the candle’s light, and barely covered chest. They could clearly see the swell of your breasts, with their heavy fat barely hidden behind the material. 

Fucking hell.

Maybe they wished you looked more like legends swore – a hundred-year-old hag with a crooked nose.

"Miss," Toji choked out, with a mouth dry as wheat. "I think there has been a misunderstanding."

Your head tilted, and eyes flashed with amusement. "A misunderstanding? Aren’t you the ones who mere minutes ago wanted to cut down my hut?"

Their lips fell flat. 

"And aren’t you the ones who wished to, hm, how was it…" slipped in a giggle, while a fat cat purred on your lap. "Kill an old lady?"

Both of them looked rather stupefied, and a sight of two burly men tied to your bed frame was quite pleasant. 

What’s more, you didn’t even try to hide your deep eyes wandering around their half-naked bodies. With heavy muscles beaming under the light coating of sweat, and palms big enough to crush your whole head. 

Their tall, massive bodies could barely fit on your bed, and a few spells needed to be used to make it a bit wider. Shocked, but oh so handsome, faces looked at you in disbelief, and you felt their eyes slipping between the swell of your breasts and plush lips curving mischievously.

"Have you heard it?" Sukuna asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Not me," you looked down at the black cat, petting its soft fur gently. "But Lucifer is my eyes and ears. You got lost, from what he said. No one ever told you not to wander around the woods in the night?"

Your giggle tasted like an aphrodisiac, and both men shifted uncomfortably on the bed. 

"Listen, miss, how about we apologise and you’ll let us go, hm? Let’s forget about–"

"Well," you interrupted, slowly standing up. The cat jumped off your lap and strolled towards the fireplace, sitting his fat ass on the soft carpet. "I usually have two ways of dealing with men of your sort," your fingers lifted a little glass phial with pinkish fluid. "I either clear their memories and simply let them go–"

"Wonderful, let’s get to it," Toji murmured, but you sent him a quick, cheeky look.

Oh, so that was not a way destined for them.

"Or," quiet footsteps filled the hut, as you walked towards a big carpet spread on the floor. With a single move, you rolled aside to present small doors, leading to the… "I throw them here. But no woman has complained about you two and wished for a curse, so fear not, dear sirs. Or, Toji and Sukuna."

You covered the basement, leaving them both scared and breathless.

"What have you heard about me?" suddenly rolled, as you walked back to the cauldron. The green mist still floated over it, and you turned at the long shelf filled with colourful little phials. 

"You’re a witch," Toji muttered, trying to keep his eyes on the back of your head and not the way velvety robes hugged your hips.

You hummed with a smile. "Go on."

"That you kidnap children," Sukuna added, seeing your back tremble in laughter. "And eat their flesh with iron teeth."

"Oh, truly?" came with a melodic laugh they both felt right in their cocks. Some purple liquid was added to the mixture boiling in a cauldron, and the mist changed from green to red. "That’s my favourite one so far. Anything else?"

You glanced over your shoulder to see their creased foreheads. One covered with raven hair and the other with soft, pinkish strands. 

"The women seem to like you," Toji murmured, noticing a little smile beaming on your cheeks.

"Haven’t you noticed a sudden surge in child births?" When they nodded slowly, you continued. "Well, no need to thank me. I’m glad I could help. And it leads me to why I decided to tie you up."

You looked more closely into the boiling cauldron, a gentle crease appearing between your brows. 

"Are you going to kill us?" Sukuna finally choked out, and your eyes quickly came back to them. 

Silence stretched mercilessly as they watched you come closer. And closer, and closer, till the bed dipped under your plush body, slowly climbing up theirs. Your knees scratched their thighs, palms dipped into the small spaces between their heavy chests, and soon a sugary fragrance hit their minds.

Curling around them sweetly, almost suffocating with the tender hints of berries and flowers, beaming on your soft neck.

Your hips straddled each of their thigh and the purple robe curled around your hips, hugging the spilling fat. Looking at the flowing material, they were rather sure you didn’t wear any panties.

Something bulged under your thighs, and a little smirk crawled up your lips.

"I won’t," slipped cheekily. "But first, sirs, say ah."

They furrowed, but opened their lips up, and before either of them could react, your fingers landed inside their mouths. With a gentle touch swirling between their gums and milky fangs, as if examining every curve of them.

You hummed softly before pulling the fingers back and allowing them to cough.

"Miss, are you crazy?" Toji barked, but you ignored him.

"Healthy gums, straight teeth, that’s good, good," slipped in a murmur, before your fingers landed in their hair. A silent tsk followed, as you pulled out two single strands.

"Hey, missy, what the hell are you doing?" Sukuna growled, wriggling under your hips. 

It did him nor Toji no good, because their already hard cocks dugged into the fat of your thighs deeper, pushing out a low, strangled hum of their throats. And a soft giggle from yours.

With two soft curls, you slowly slipped off their hips, leaving both men with a quiet disappointment. 

"You see, lots of women come to my hut with a wish to bear a child," their hair landed inside the cauldron, and a red mist changed into purple. "For many, I’m just a scary witch, but women cherish me as… a forest goddess, you may say," you mixed the boiling mixture with a wooden spoon, and a soft that’s good, perfect slipped through. "Fulfilling their desires is rather easy, you see. A simple mixture is enough to bloom their fertility."

Both men tried to listen closely, but could only focus on how quickly your warmth had left their bodies. 

Quite unpleasant, slightly unfortunate.

Toji furrowed. "Miss, what does that have to do with us?"

"I also want a child. No, I need to have a child to keep the lineage of witches," rolled softly, with your voice slipping into something warmer. "That’s what my mother did. And her mother, sisters, aunts, and every woman in my family. All of them chose a man healthy like a horse, the most potent one in the entire village."

Oh.

Something bubbled in their chest. A sudden warmth, a wave of electricity washed over their bodies, as both Sukuna and Toji looked at your blessed face with round eyes.

For a while, nothing but the cat’s soft purring and the soft crackling of the fireplace filled the hut. A deep silence, marked by unbearable tension. Your lips fell in line, forehead wrinkled with a coiling thought.

Toji coughed. "So we–"

"Yes," you quickly added. "You are the most perfect for this role."

And the rest played out faster than they expected.

The misty, purple robes suddenly fell off your shoulders, fully unveiling your divine body. With perked nipples licked warmly by a candle’s flame and a plush belly, their teeth already itched to dip into. You started to move – slowly, with thighs jiggling gently and lips curving in a mischievous smile.

"You can refuse, of course," slipped in a bewitching sweetness, curling around their lips and minds and already leaking cocks.

Refuse? They would be fools to refuse a woman like you.

"If you wish, I shall clear your minds and simply let you go. I'm sure, at some point, my path would cross with yet another potent men," the mattress dipped under your weight as you, once again, started crawling up their bodies.

Your words creased their foreheads.

Another men?

"But if you decide to stay–"

Their breaths hitched, feeling the sweetness of your breath hit their cheeks.

Something wicked coiled behind your pupils – arousing, suffocating them with the lustfulness of your gaze. You looked into Sukuna’s crimson eyes before your lips touched the corner of his. Shortly, softly, slowly moving to the next man and gently licking the pale scar slashing his maw. 

"If you stay, you’ll need to be my obedient husbands. And give me lots and lots of witches," you whispered, waiting quietly for an answer. With your cunt dripping down their clothed thighs and their cocks shifting under your body. 

They stared at you – with crimson and emerald eyes sparkling in feary madness.

Oh, so you truly were a witch, for their minds suddenly filled with a flaming need to obey your wicked request. The sweet fragrance of your naked skin wrapped around their senses like a poison. A spell, maybe, and they wondered whether you truly cast a sort of devilish charm.

To mould them as you wished, bending and pushing their minds over the edge with nothing but sweet little whispers. And trickery eyes, cherry lips, heavy breasts just waiting to be fondled and, dear god, your cunt brushing against their thighs.

"What do you say?" You whispered, before placing palms on their cheeks. "Do you wish to go back to your village? Or maybe fill me up like good boys, hm? Today is my most fertile night, so it should go quite easily."

"Untie us," Sukuna whispered, with eyes not leaving your face even for a second. 

Toji kissed the inside of your palm softly, with emerald eyes looking at your warming face. "Come on, baby, untie us. If you want to have a baby, let’s make one, hm?"

With a single snap of your fingers, their wrists fell. 

And then, oh well… you truly were a wicked and powerful witch.

But still a rather foolish, stupid young girl, who knew nothing about men.

About lustful, foxy, much older and stronger men, who you accidentally aroused in a most maddened way.

Your belly hit the mattress before you even knew it, and big palms lifted your drenched hips.

"Wait–" you choked and tried to lift your chest, but a heavy palm landed between your shoulders. 

"Don’t worry, little witch," Sukuna rolled, leaning towards you. Warm lips curled around your earlobe before moving to the back of your neck, and shoulders and liquid spine. "Let your husbands take good care of you."

Drenched folds of your cunt met with Toji’s calloused fingers, before he spread them open. A sudden warmth hit your core, and he took a long and nasty sniff of your dripping wet.

"Baby, you smell so fucking sweet," rolled in a groan, before Sukuna joined him. 

His finger brushed your hole, scooping up a few sticky strings of juices. He licked it clean, with a low hum filling the hut. "Fuck, the best meal I’ve ever had. Arch a bit more, sugar, and spread yourself open."

His hand pushed you into the mattress even harsher, till breath knocked out of your chest. 

"Just like that, baby," Toji hummed with a sly smile, bending his lips upon hearing your teary gasp. "You’re doing so well already, hm? So fucking wet."

There was no need to ask, for both of them knew that you were a virgin. It was quite obvious, with your hole fluttering shyly, drenching their digits in gluey saps of cum. Juices trickled down your thighs, dripped onto the mattress, and Toji bent over to lick your skin clean. 

His tongue warmed the inside of your thighs, the mound of ass, before he finally spread your cheeks wider, and you felt the plush muscle on your warmth.

"A-Ah–" fell in a pitched moan, as you wriggled under Sukuna’s hand.

He leaned closer, brushing away single strands of hair from your cheeks. One of his palms still lay heavily between your shoulders, pushing you against the mattress, while the other started to fiddle with his trousers.

"Have you ever sucked a dick, sugar?" He cooed warmly, but mischievous flames danced behind his crimson eyes. When your head shook, he chuckled. "Of course not, such a sweet little witch. Though you really know how to fire up a man."

Another moan slipped between your lips when Toji’s tongue landed on your clit. Curling, pushing, and abusing the plump spot, making your toes curl in pleasure. Another wave of honeyed cum flowed from your cunt, and he drank it hungrily, growling in delight over the sticky cum dripping down his throat. 

"Fuck, baby, if that’s how you pussy tastes, you can use me all you want," he groaned, brushing his clothed cock against your foot. His finger slipped in, and before you could scream, Sukuna’s lips quickly crashed against yours. "Another men, you must be fucking joking. Although you really set the bar high, thinking you can take two cocks at once," he pushed it further, feeling your walls clasp his digit. "So fucking tight."

"Don’t worry, little witch," Sukuna mumbled, fisting his cock with one hand. "We’ll try not to tear you open. I’m sure Toji will stretch your sweet cunt enough to fit us both, hm?"

But seeing the veiny, massive thing sitting in his hand – you weren’t quite sure.

And only then have you realised that maybe you underestimated both of them. Thinking that using them to get pregnant would be smooth and easy, and after a mere few minutes, you would simply send them back to the village.

The whole husbands thing was just a foolish play, but, as it turned out, your silly plan has missed a few rather important details that.

Firstly, both Toji and Sukuna were massive. Muscular wasn’t the right word to describe their ripped bodies, with backs broad like mountains and heavy forearms manhandling you in the most toe-curling way. Two beasts, with necks thick as logs and rolling shoulders that could easily lift you without a sweat.

They cast a shadow over your trembling body, and Sukuna needed just a single hand to overpower you fully. 

You didn’t feel the unbearable air they’ve spread around each other until you foolishly untied them. 

It wrapped around your neck, weighted on your chest, with their hands and lips and brutal force slowly opening you up in the most pleasurable way.

With Sukuna’s fat cock pushing through your wet lips and Toji’s fingers keeping your hips in place.

"Come on, little witch, open up. Give me a good lick," Sukuna’s hand travelled from your back up, resting on head. Fingers gripped your hair gently, but not forcefully. No, after all, he wanted you to take him willingly – to swirl this wicked tongue around his leaking cock and get drunk on precum. "That’s a good girl, mhm, don’t bite it, you’re doing so well."

His words somehow tickled your mind, and you choked on his cock even further. Salty precum glued to your throat and veins scratched the roof of your mouth. His musky, manly smell pushed out yet another wave of honeyed juices of your cunt, and Toji drank them with a low hum. 

When the second finger joined in, you jolted, trying to move hips away.

"Ah ah, baby, there’s no running," Toji chuckled, feeling your fluttering walls hardly swallowing his fingers. "Fucking hell, at this rate you won’t take even a single cock."

His lips curled around your clit, sucking the plump bud with delighted growls and sending low tremors straight to your cunt. His heavy tongue feasted on your sweetness as if starved, with fingers slowly working you open and abusing a single, plush spot relentlessly.

"How do you feel, sugar? What does it feel like to have your pussy eaten out for the first time–fuck," Sukuna cursed, feeling your throat clench around his pulsing cock. "You look so fucking ethereal, hell, the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen. Don’t worry, I won’t cum inside your throat. I’m keeping it warm and safe for your sweet cunt."

You couldn’t stand it.

Their dirty words, warm fingers caressing your body with gentle strokes, all the buttons they somehow knew how to push to turn you into a miserable, whimpering mess. With crystal droplets swirling in the corners of your eyes and a pleasure washing over your spine each time Toji sucked on your clit.

When his fingers bent again, you cried. Pitifully, like an angel, sending a tremble straight to Sukuna’s cock. 

He moved, sitting right in front of you, letting your lips drop down even further, till the feverish head of his cock hit the back of your throat. Your fingers dug into his massive thighs, and saliva dripped down his balls. 

"Fuck, so good sugar, you’re doing so well," he warmly cheered you on, taking a hefty fist of your hair. "Suck on the head. Yeah, just like that, try to hollow your cheeks, take me deeper," when his head hit your back wall again, you started coughing. He quickly lifted you, brushing away a few dropping tears. Heavy hand squeezed your cheeks, pushing out swollen lips. "My little witch, where’s all the courage from before, hm? You really have no idea what you asked for."

You didn’t say anything, as his lips soon crashed against yours. In a sloppy kiss, with tongue swirling inside your mouth and a long stripe of spit dripping down your chin.

Oh, he was starving to feel that sweet cunt of yours tear around his cock. To feel your warm walls clasp around his shaft and soft moans fill the sizzling inside of the hut.

The heat coming off the fireplace mixed with your heavy breaths, sweating bodies and gluey fluids sticking to your skin. From the outside, they couldn’t see the windows, but now a soft gleam of moonlight crept through the foggy glass, smooching your wet cheeks with a cold light.

Toji’s heavy hand smacked your hips, and he finally pulled off. A sweet string connected his lips to your stretched cunt, and he gave it one last, long and filthy lick, leaving your thighs trembling.

"Let’s try, baby," he mumbled, still oogling the way your drenched hole flapped around nothing. As if desperately needed to swallow something into its desperate clutches. "Sukuna, turn her over. It’s time to stuff our little witch."

They treated you like a rag doll, and you felt no different. Soon, your back hit Sukuna’s chest, and Toji’s hands landed under your thighs, folding you easily like a leaf – with cunt spread open and more of fertile juices coating your folds.

Sukuna’s hands reached to your perked buds, rolling your nipples between his calloused fingers. Maybe it was to send another wave of pleasure down your spine.

But, maybe, he wanted you to focus on something other than Toji taking out his massive cock and positioning it at your entrance. Sukuna’s fat shaft came right from below, smooching your drenched hole in warm, gentle kisses.

"It’s okay, sugar," he murmured into your ear, turning your head away. Fingers pinched your nipple, and another soft moan rolled through, making their hearts swell in ecstasy. "Don’t look there, just focus on me."

Your brows furrowed, and pleasure-blinded eyes tried to trace back, but his heavy hand kept your chin in place. "W-What is it?"

Toji chuckled, seeing your cunt already trying to swallow up their leaking heads. But would you be able to take them both?

Fucking hell, he didn’t know.

"Deep breath, baby," he muttered, covering your trembling clit with his thumb. He rolled it softly, helping your walls loosen up. 

And then slowly, slowly, two massive cocks pushed through the tight ring of your muscles. 

The pain mixed with pleasure, and before a scream rolled from your throat, Toji quickly leaned over. His lips swallowed a sharp cry, and cock pushed even further. 

Sukuna’s fingers kneaded your tits, with fat spilling from between his fingers, while Toji’s thumb worked slowly on your clit. In slow, deep rolls, pinching and pushing the sweet little button that helped their cocks slide deeper. Meaner, smooching and brushing your clasping walls, with their muscles trying to push fat shafts out.

"Sugar, fucking hell, try to relax," Sukuna muttered, feeling his girth get crushed between Toji’s dick and your trembling walls. "You’re doing good, so fucking good, our little witch. Come on, you asked for it."

You did, and maybe that made the matter worse. Because you, in fact, didn’t know what you were getting yourself into.

Not entirely.

Well, not at all, truly.

As you didn’t expect your cunt to burn in such fever, with walls getting brutally stretched by two massive cocks. Their sweet coos made your brain all fuzzy, with sweet little nothings whispered in gentle voices. Hands brushed away strands of hair sticking to your wet cheeks, and fingers kneaded your body with a rough softness, solely to let them get drunk on your melodic moans.

"T-To much–mhmm–that’s too–"

"Shhh," Toji whispered, licking away your tears. "You’ll take it like a good girl. Remember, that’s what you asked for."

Your head shook, and another whimper slipped away when Sukuna’s fingers pinched your nipple. "It’s okay, sugar, just focus on the pleasure. Yeah, that’s good," his hand squeezed your tit, while Toji rolled your clit with his thumb. "Relax, just like that. Fuck, you’re still squeezing us so hard."

"Let us fill you up, baby," Toji cooed with a nasty thrust. Their cocks moved in harmony, with two leaking heads sinking deeper and deeper, till they finally brushed your plump spot and let another moan fill the foggy air. "Can’t wait to see you fat and heavy, just like you wanted," he kissed the corner of your lip, wet cheeks, creased forehead. "And we’ll take such good care of you and little brats. Don’t worry, baby, we’re not going to leave."

At first, you just planned to use them and send them away, but hearing their loving murmurs and hands pulling you closer between their bodies – it seemed that it was impossible.

For neither Sukuna nor Toji planned to leave this sweet little witch, with the most melodic giggle and pussy they were ready to die for.

And if they needed to tie you up not to clear their memories – fucking hell, they were more than eager to do it.

To pump you full during the day and keep you soft and warm at nights.

The pinching pain soon evolved into something sharper – more heavenly, heated, with nerves of your cunt finally sending ripples of ecstasy up to your curling feet.

And they saw it too – a gentle crease appearing on your forehead and eyes crossing in unbearable pleasure. Their lips curved in a sly smile, feeling your hips slowly moving with theirs. With cunt swallowing them deeper and short breaths evolving into pinched moans.

"How do you feel, sugar? How does it feel to have us right in your womb?" Sukuna licked a long stripe of your neck before digging his teeth into your skin. His hand slipped down, pushing a little pouch of your belly. 

You whimpered, feeling his fingers circle their cocks through the plump skin. "S-so good–nghhh–feels sooo good–ahhh."

Their thrusts became faster, harsher, with two plump heads slipping smoothly through your drenched cunt. Soft crackling of a fireplace was soon muffled by filthy squelches coming from your sweating bodies, and crying moans rolling through your lips.

You felt sticky, feverish, bruised, with their cocks kissing your swelling womb and Toji’s body pressing you to Sukuna. He was heavy, with big palms digging into the back of your thighs and chest glued to yours.

"Fuck, baby, look at me," he whispered, and Sukuna squeezed your cheeks, lifting wet cheeks towards another man. "Oh, our sweet little witch, you look so fucked. Already drunk on our cocks, hm? Come on, baby, let’s make you cum."

Your clit burned under his thumb, swelling in overwhelming pleasure. Something warm started to coil in your belly. Although it might as well be their fat shafts sliding through your clenching cunt and bubbling precum at your womb. You could almost feel them in your lungs, heart, throat, and when both men suddenly sped up, something inside you burst. 

You could barely breathe, feeling Sukuna’s chest glued to your back and Toji’s arms curling around your bodies. His face nuzzled into the one side of your neck, while Sukuna dipped into the other, caging your senses with their musky, heavy scent. The one that made your body limp and dissolve into their touch.

Their cocks thrusted faster, meaner, sliding in and out in a messy pace and completly losing the harmony. Sukuna’s head caught on your entrance the moment Toji kissed your womb, and soon you became a crying mess, with lips swelling from their kisses and mind slowly driving away.

"I–I’m so close–mhmmm–gonna cum, I’m g-going to cum–ahhhh," one of your hands slipped into Toji’s hair, the other wandered back to grip Sukuna’s. "P-Please come inside, p-please please please, pump me full."

Something within them snapped, and soon their touch lost any sense of gentleness. No, it evolved into something much more lustful, maddened.

The need to see your body tremble beneath their fingers and feel the spasmatic clamps of your cunt. With honeyed sweet gushing out of your stuffed, reddened hole and walls still stretching under the swelling fatness of their cocks.

"Our pretty girl, milking us fucking dry, clamping on our cocks like a bitch in heat–ngh." Sukuna groaned into your neck, rolling your swollen nipples between his fingers. "Go on, sugar, cum for us, let us make you a mommy."

Emerald eyes caught your gaze, and soon a pair of warm lips crashed, for the hundredth time during this evening, in a messy kiss. "If I knew you ain’t old hag I would–ahh–knock you up sooner," his fingers pressed your clit for the last time, before both of their cocks nuzzled into your womb. 

The long-held warmth finally spilt all over your belly, sending heavy waves of pleasure through your body. Your cunt gushed out in sweet cum, drenching all three of you in liquid honey.

And when they came – you could feel it on your tongue. Fat ropes of cum, stuffing your cunt full till a few droplets spilt out from your swollen hole. Your lower belly rose, with their cocks still smooching your womb softly, coating it in thick, white spurts.

A moment had passed before Toji’s body fully lay down, and you almost fainted. Silence stretched pleasantly, with Sukuna’s fingers brushing away lost strands of your hair and Toji’s cheek lowering down to your chest.

Something pleasant, rather domestic, linked your hearts like a thread, and a long night has passed before you actually slipped away from between their sleeping bodies. 

And somewhere, during those long hours of their touches changing between the gentle caresses and harsh slaps, you decided that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t clean their memories.

That maybe keeping them close didn’t sound that bad.

Especially as they promised to give you a whole coven of little witches – oh!

©liahcharms all rights reserved. Do not copy, plagiarise, feed AI, translate or modify my works.

I had so so much fun writing it! I really hope you enjoyed this little snippet of my local folklore, although the og story was a bit different...

I got a few requests for Hades!Sukuna so... I'll start working on Hades!Sukuna x Persephone!Reader fic <3

Collection taglist: @silverklaus @cherrys-wrld @buttclencher28 @anothergojostan @sirensdairy @waterisntwetanymoreiam @somekindofcelebrity @prome911 @iridescentshine @venussdovess @classycreationlight @bokenessa @sashabearsstuff @gater-grabber96 @venetiandream @luvducks19 @koreluvsspring @moonlight-inthe-sea @hashahasha @mysicnote @sukunasl-ttywh0re @princesstiti14 @kissthegoatt @chosoismyeverthing @getospuresoul

And not the cute, fluffy kind the boy down gravel road had. 

A werewolf pup. Somewhere between human and wolf, caught between two different forms and completely, totally feral. With scraggly pink fur and searing red eyes, barking out a low growl at you as he struggled to get out of your trap. There was…something in there with him. A small animal you must’ve snagged before he tried to steal it, only tufts of brown and orange left of it and bits of bone. 

But when you looked back at his face, the shape of his quivering mouth and the way his eyes widened with pure panic, you couldn’t help but feel awful for him. He was even smaller than you, scrawny and starving, his fingers trembling as he fought to break free. 

“It’s okay,” you tried to soothe him, swallowing hard to quell your own fear. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” 

You pulled out your knife, moving slowly to not scare him as you showed him the blade. From what you’d pieced together from your parents late-night hushed conversations over the town’s werewolf problem, they were intelligent. Had families too. Made their homes in caves rather than out of wood and stone. 

Was he your age? Maybe a year younger? 

Did he have parents out there waiting for him to return to them like yours were? 

“I’m just going to cut you free,” you half-whispered, careful to keep your tone even as you started to dismantle your own handiwork. 

You didn’t know if he could understand you. 

But his growling had turned into low huffs. 

If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think he was impatient.

You worked faster, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you nervously stole glances back at the pup, hesitant to even think of him as a beast when he was so…scraggly? You’d always thought werewolves were vicious, too smart to get caught by a silly contraption like yours, strong enough to bust their way out of it if they did. 

“Okay, there you-” 

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence, the second he’d been released, that scraggly body of his was launching off the ground – and on top of you. Knocking you onto your back, all the air forced out of you as you let out a sharp gasp, trying to shove him off only to get the knife knocked out of your hand. 

And your wrists pinned by your head just a moment later, his claws digging into your skin as his iron grip bit into your bones. 

You were sobbing before he had even leaned in a little, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you squirmed and attempted to roll out from underneath him. “Pl-please don’t hurt me, I-I-” 

Blubbering like a baby, shaking your head desperately as fear struck a dagger of its own straight through your core, primal terror setting in as you began to sweat. Your whole face felt wet, your lip wobbling as you tried to stammer out another desperate plea for your life, as you realized what a moron you were for having pity for him. 

Starving dogs would always bite. 

He was growling, barring sharp teeth as his canines glinted in the afternoon light, ready to sink into your throat and tear it out. You had a momentary surge of strength at the thought you really might die, managing to almost wrestle free as you screamed for your family, one hand slipping out of his grasp only for him to lunge forward, his teeth sinking into your wrist to stop you as a flash of white hot pain shot up your arm and-

Stopped? 

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, squinting almost accusingly before the hurt morphed into a relaxing tingle, like your body was being bathed in warmth, shivering at the strange connection in his locked stare. All the apprehension disappearing, your anxieties melting as if you weren’t in danger, as if you weren’t surely seconds from death. 

And then he was letting go, recoiling away from you like he tasted something rotten, nose scrunched up before he started to sniff the air. 

Blood was dripping down your wrist, leaving red splotches on the plants beneath you as you scooted backwards, breathing hard and heavy as you debated on trying to make a run for it now, weighing the risk of if he’d pounce again. Feeling for where the knife landed, unable to bring yourself to break eye contact with him. 

His mouth opened again, not in a snarl this time, but before he could bark or speak, there was the rustle of branches behind you, your parents calling out your name with worry in their voices. You glanced over your shoulder, just for a moment, but by the time you looked back, he was gone. 

Disappeared deeper into the forest, into the safety of the thick brush. 

Leaving you with a wounded wrist and a funny flutter in your chest as you stumbled to your feet after grabbing the knife, stumbling back towards the sound of your parents shouting for you. 

You made it out of the woods with your life. 

A story that got you scolded for years to come too, not to mention a scar that made the townsfolk sneer at you for doing something so foolish. 

And a werewolf who just wouldn’t stop coming around. 

Although, it had taken you until your teenage years to figure out that you were being stalked by the creature you made the mistake of saving as a child. You found his fur on your family’s porch, tufts of pink left behind in the mornings your family never seemed to notice. Scratch marks etched against the walls, grooves left in the wood from claws that were meant for slicing through flesh. 

You caught glimpses of him. Sporadic at first, spread out between months and weeks. A flash of sharp teeth through the treeline. A phantom stare that seemed to constantly trail after you as you carefully kept your distance from the forest during the days while you tended to the farm. Hair pretty much perpetually raised on the back of your neck as you pretended you didn’t feel like you were being watched the second you walked outside. 

The livestock had stopped disappearing, at least. 

No more waking up to missing chickens or goats left with gashes strewn across the yard. 

Your parents thought that all the werewolves in the area had moved somewhere else. Retreated deeper into the woods or somehow all slaughtered each other, victim to their own instincts, their own aggression. 

You knew better. Kept waiting for the beast lurking and lingering around to…well, do something. 

Not just watch. 

You wondered if he was hoping for your guard to slip. If maybe he liked to play with his food before he scarfed it down. 

Every time you’d step foot into the forest, he would seemingly be there. One hand on a silver dagger, not that you thought it would be much use if he’d been able to pin you down back when you were still bigger than him, especially now that he had a massive frame that lumbered between the trees, too big to be stealthy if he tried. Yet, not a single other person had seen him. 

But you didn’t really have a choice. Someone had to collect herbs, had to get fresh water from the river, had to bring back branches and berries. 

And no one believed your stories of the pink werewolf who just stood there and stared without ever attacking. 

Everyone in town thought you were just a crybaby who called wolf. 

“Stop staring and hang those clothes up,” your mother huffed, an elbow digging into your side snapping you out of your daze. Daydreaming about a world where they all listened to you instead of ignoring every word that left your mouth. “The neighbor’s boy will be by soon.” 

Of course. 

You wouldn’t be their problem much longer anyway. 

Soon you’d be married off, sent to be the bride of the farmer’s eldest son next door. Most people married their daughters off the second they came of age, became adults who were too much of a burden to keep around, but your reputation had bought you a couple extra years. 

No one wanted to wed a woman who weeped about creatures the rest of the folk were desperate to forget about. 

Except for the boy with the bad temper you whispered to through the fence. 

You had only started speaking to him a handful of months ago, back when you were hanging the sheets on the line and overheard a rustling sound through the rotting wooden planks separating your family’s land from the neighbor’s. 

“Hello?” You called out, glancing over your shoulder anxiously, picturing a mass of pink on the other side. Considering the chance that you had gone crazy, cringing as you realized your paranoid mind might just be playing a trick on you. “Is someone-”

“Hello?” A man’s voice had echoed yours, equally uncertain. It came out all gruff, like someone was dragging a wooden rake over gravel, a rough rumble to it you automatically liked. 

He didn’t try to sound smooth or honeyed. No pretending, nothing pretty or pompous. 

And more important than anything else, real. 

“Oh, um, my apologies,” you awkwardly cleared your throat, not sure what to say to him, belatedly realizing it had to be the boy your parents kept bringing up as a potential marriage prospect for you. “I just heard a noise and-” 

“Did I scare you?” 

“A little,” you admitted, laughing it off as you stared at the wood blocking him from your sight. “There’s a werewolf that roams around here.” 

You waited for him to mock you for suggesting it. To dismiss your claim the same way everyone else did. 

“Oh?” 

He didn’t. 

You informed your mother that night you wouldn’t mind marrying him after all. 

And before long, you were confiding in him about everything. Sitting by the fence whether the weather was warm or cold, picking flowers while you poured out the years you’d spent looking over your shoulder, scared that you wouldn’t make it through another season. 

He never told you your suspicions were stupid. 

But he did tell you that if the werewolf hadn’t attacked you yet, there might be another reason it was there. Suggested one drizzly day that the object of your fear might actually be protecting you, that he could’ve scared off all the others that used to wreak havoc on your family’s farm. 

You had never considered it before him. 

But he made a point you were doing your best to talk yourself into believing. 

It had helped calm some of your nerves. Turn your nightmares into something more…managable. They weren’t scary anymore, just, well, strange. 

Your werewolf was still there. 

But your body no longer tensed with terror when he came close and crouched low. Your heart still thrummed, pounding against your chest as you reached out a hand, but the beast who occupied so much of your brain had begun to let you pet him in the scenes it conjured up. Stroking his surprisingly soft fur as his mouth parted to purr, sharp teeth hidden behind his curled-up lips. 

You had told your future fiancé about it, excitedly recounting the details as he gruffly hummed along. You asked about his dreams too, tried to return the favor he’d done you by easing your fears by getting to know him.  

But he avoided that altogether, always redirecting the conversation back to your day. What you had for breakfast or what chores your family would be making you do later. 

He didn’t flirt, never made any kind of crude suggestions of sneaking over the fence to spend the night — despite the rather unsavory reputation you heard he had around your village. 

When you got close, your knees pressed to your chest while you rested your cheek against the wood, sometimes you could almost swear you felt some invisible string tying you to him. A natural pull you had a hard time resisting, reluctant to ever end the conversation or step away when your heart wanted to plant itself on the spot. Fingers itching to pry apart the boards so you could see his face, touch his skin. 

You told yourself that it was a pretty fantasy.

Something your mind was weaving to keep yourself from actually going crazy from sheer loneliness. 

Despite all of your stolen conversations, the minutes you snuck away to speak to him, you had never met him in person.

Until today. 

You hurried to hang the clothes per your mother’s request, hands trembling as you worked and your head snapping over your shoulders as you hoped to hear his voice. 

“Are you there?” You called out, aware that you’d look as crazy as everyone said you were if you got caught. It was a miracle in itself that you hadn’t before now. 

But you didn’t get a reply. 

Brief disappointment burned through you, but you shut it down. 

Ignored the way it stung as you finished up, casting a wistful look back before returning to the house, stepping over trampled wild flowers and dying grass until you were climbing back up the stairs to your porch. 

Your head hanging low, mulling over what you’d actually say when you got to see him. 

“Ahem,” your mother cleared her throat, and your stare snapped up to find her waiting for you with-

Oh. 

Your shallow disappointment immediately deepened into a lake you could drown you. 

“Hi,” you breathed, struggling not to let your dismay show for the man in front of you. He wasn’t awful looking. No, he was attractive, you guessed, in his own way. 

But he didn’t fit what you had in your head. He was too…clean? Normal? 

His eyes weren’t filled with the warmth you dreamed they’d have. They were cold. Slipping over your frame cautiously, as if he was calculating what he should make of you. 

You didn’t feel that tug towards him, no spark or gravity drawing you in. You didn’t feel anything for him. 

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you,” he greeted, nodding as his stare dipped from your face to your chest. 

He didn’t even sound the same either. 

Could a piece of wood really change the quality of his voice that much? 

“I’ll leave you two to it,” your mother chirped, disappearing back inside like she wouldn’t be watching through the window. 

“You don’t have to pretend like you don’t know me,” you said once you were sure she at least wasn’t eavesdropping. Telling yourself that you were surely just overthinking everything, trying to claw back some comfort in your one safe person. “Speaking to you has often been the highlight of my days these last few months.” 

He looked at you incredulously, mouth curling up in a sneer you’d seen so many times before. 

It was the one you usually got in the market from the townsfolk who thought you were mad. 

The delusional farmer’s daughter. 

“We’ve never spoken before.”

˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

Would you be mad at him for murdering your fiancé? 

Sukuna mused on how hard it would be to catch that imbecile off-guard and slice through his throat as the idiot scoffed and sneered at you. 

He always knew it was a matter of time before you figured out your future groom wasn’t the man on the other side of the fence. 

But he thought he had a little more time. 

To warm you up a little more on the whole werewolf thing. 

He heard the fear in your voice when you first talked about the pink beast stalking you through the woods without realizing it was the creature you were so terrified of that you were crying to. 

It wasn’t like he wanted you to think he was a fucking creep. 

But the longer he stayed away, the harder he fought and resisted the bond tying you to him, the more of a monster he became. Slowly becoming more animalistic, giving into the primal parts of him, pain scorching through every muscle and limb and threatening to melt his mind when he strayed too far from your side. 

Werewolves needed their mates. 

And you were his. 

Bonded from the moment he bit you, his heart claimed to only beat for you from that day forward. Most werewolves had packs to keep them sane. Families they counted on to maintain their control on the monstrous parts of them that would go unchecked without that connection.

He had been an orphan. An abandoned pup who figured out how to survive on his own. 

Lone werewolves, the ones like him, eventually became more wolf than man if they never found their other half to hold onto. Too aggressive to ever come close to someone that could tame them. 

Sukuna had learned to make due with what he had. 

You’d gotten good at avoiding him, running from him the second you caught so much as a glimpse, which honestly, was rather rude if you asked him. 

Forced to creep up to your house at night, prowling around your porch to protect your farm from any other predators that might come sniffing around. Sleeping beneath your window at night just so he could stave off transforming into more of a beast, telling himself that he wasn’t being weird as long as he didn’t peek through to watch you dream and drift off in your bed. 

He only ended up talking to you through the fence out of impulse. 

Creeping along the other side of it to stay close to you and keep his instincts at bay, knowing those morons next door barely tended to their fields enough to notice him even during the day, caught off guard by the sound of your pretty voice calling out to him. 

A single conversation was enough to have him hooked though. 

And he was nothing if not addicted to the tiniest tidbits of your attention. 

Desperate to feel the faintest warmth of your affection.

Sometimes, he was tempted to burst through the rotting wood, rip the whole fence down until he was face-to-face with you, shake your shoulders and beg you to see that it was him, that every part of him belonged to you. 

Humans didn’t feel the bond the same way werewolves did, but he wanted to believe you could sense it too. 

You had kept coming back. 

And now you were standing on your front porch, frozen with a different type of fear that he could feel from here. 

Your emotions seeping into his, curdling with his own shame for screwing everything up with you from the start. 

He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he could tell you were stammering, your lips quivering just for the man in front of you to laugh. Reaching out to pat your head condescendingly before jutting a thumb back towards his own property. 

Sukuna was silently begging you to shake your head. 

To keep your feet firmly planted on your porch. 

You were too soft. Too trusting. 

The sort of girl that set him free. Let a wild wolf pup loose with no regard for your own safety. And apparently you never learned your lesson judging by the way you began following that fool back to his house. 

Clueless that his own family had conveniently left it empty for him to have his way with his future bride. 

Sukuna had listened to your complaints about the way you were treated by everyone else. How no one else ever seemed to see what you did. No one else cared to believe you when it was more convenient not to. 

You had trusted him. 

And now you were putting this faith in that man because he hadn’t told you the truth? 

Sukuna knew what would happen if he let you go inside with him, snarling as his claws started to grow, the bones in his fists cracking and popping as they formed a fist, creeping just deep enough to not be spotted as he trailed after the two of you until you crossed over onto his property. 

He kept hoping you’d turn around. Tell him that you weren’t sure this was a good idea. 

But you didn’t. 

Even if the look on your face was nothing short of sharp discomfort as you walked up a winding path to his house. 

Shit.

Sukuna was really going to scare you this time, wasn’t he? 

But he wasn’t just going to let you stay there alone with an even bigger predator. 

One who wouldn’t hesitate to bruise your skin or make you bleed for his own pleasure. 

He stepped out, his canines barred as his chest quickly began to rise and fall with heavy breaths, aware that there really might be no going back from this as he waited for just one of you to look back. But no, that asshole just slid his hand down the small of your back, attempting to grope your ass through your dress and ignoring the way you were recoiling from him as you tried to politely brush his arm off. 

Rage ripped through him in one hot burst, spilling over and souring any chance of his sanity winning out. Only half-monster this time, pink fur sticking out across his back as he lumbered forward. He didn’t have a real plan. Or any plan. 

Just the deep-seeded instinct to protect you at any cost. To not let another man lay a finger on you.  

Your husband-to-be never saw him coming. 

Blood splattering across the grass as he hit the ground from just a shallow scratch, whining in pain like a baby before Sukuna delivered a swift kick to his skull. 

It wasn’t particularly powerful, but he supposed humans really were just that much weaker given how fast it seemed to knock him out. 

“Sorry,” he growled, glancing over to you, expecting you to scream at any second, give him away. But you were stuck in place, those big eyes that had haunted him in his memory for so long finally locked onto his. More tears welling up in them, your shoulders shivering as the explanation on his tongue died. 

Your hand reflexively reached for your wrist, the scarred skin there still raised from where he’d clamped down on it as a child, and he flinched, guilt curdling in his stomach. 

He hated that he hurt you. Hated that he was terrifying you now. 

The bond burned, being so goddamn close to you, able to feel all your fear, all your messy emotions tangled and twisted together, your heart racing so fast he could hear the wild thumps as he tried to force his body to revert back to his most human form. 

“He was going to hurt you,” Sukuna defended himself with a low growl, kicking his limp body on the ground for a second time, like it would make himself feel better. A man like that would only waste your life. Force you to work the fields for him, bear his children and still pretend you were the burden. 

You blinked, sucking in a broken breath as you stared at him. The terror that had been radiating off of you fading faster than he expected as your pretty lips parted, as if you pieced together the rest of who he was on your own. 

“You’re-” You started, unable to finish the sentence. 

“I’m protecting you,” he grunted, before you could come to any other conclusion. 

You’d given him this life. He was devoting it back to you. 

“Why would you do that?” You whispered, unsure of whether or not to stay or sprint as far from him as you could. Your stare quickly shifted back to the body on the ground, biting your lip when you realized he was, unfortunately, still breathing. 

“You’re my mate.” 

˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

The werewolf you’d spent well over a decade running from had declared you were his mate – and the man you thought you’d marry was bleeding in the grass. 

Great. 

You were blinking back tears, torn between twisting away and taking a step closer. Your blurred vision started to clear as you hastily wiped away the damp streak from your cheeks, starting to see the werewolf in front of you as what he might have been this whole time. 

Your protector. 

Were you a moron that misread everything? 

Maybe. 

Or were you once again a fool about to fall for his trap? 

He’d done it to you before, hadn’t he? 

A small voice in your head suggested that you were thinking about it wrong. You had set him free. And now he was repaying that favor by saving you from spending the rest of your years chained to a stranger.

“What did you mean about him hurting me?” You tentatively asked, jaw tensing as you stole another peek at the man bleeding onto the already dead grass. 

“You’re not that naive,” he scoffed, his mouth twitching when he looked too like he was tempted to kick him a third time. 

Your mouth pressed together in a thin line, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you replayed the way he tried to grab you despite how derisively he laughed at you before. How he commented that he didn’t really care if you were crazy before glancing down at your cleavage. 

But you had still walked with him anyway, starting to think that maybe you were losing it, that you were simply so lonely, you’d made up all those long conversations. Convinced that some jerk who just wanted you for your body was the best you’d be able to get. 

“So it was you? This whole time?” You asked, trying to make the pieces fit together in your mind as you pictured him on the other side of that fence. Listening to you complain about him. “You never said-” 

“Can you blame me?” He grunted, shrugging his massive shoulders up like it didn’t bother him.

“I called you a creep, like, a thousand times,” you pointed out, bottom lip quivering as you found yourself teetering on the verge of an apology you couldn’t decide if he deserved or not. 

“Yeah,” he grimaced. “If I stay too far away from you, it’s hard to stay human.” 

Your heart lurched. 

Eyes lingering over him as you realized that he could almost pass for human. 

Disarmed by how different he looked up close. His broad chest outlined with defined muscles, bulky and thick with scars and markings crisscrossed and etched deep into his tanned skin. There were sparse spots of fur that appeared to almost…shrink the longer he stood in front of you. 

And not a scrap of clothing to cover his rather large cock. 

You’d never seen one in person before. But you had overheard some of the girls gossiping about the men they were seeing in the market, comparing sizes to fruits and giggling about how they rarely seemed to make good use of them. 

Were werewolves just more well endowed? 

Heat coiled in your stomach, more enthralled than you should be as you got distracted by the shape of it, the way it curved a little to the left, a thick vein running along the side of it as your breath got stuck in your throat. 

His tail wagged behind him as he stepped closer, something irritatingly familiar inside you instinctively aching to move towards him too. 

That invisible string pulling tight, tensing up at the proximity of his presence, trying to draw you into his space as you felt what little resolve you had to resist him crumbling by the second. 

You didn’t want to stay here. 

Didn’t want to spend your life as the wife to an asshole or be the disappointment of a daughter your family treated you like. 

You were already an outsider in your own village. 

Why not give being a werewolf’s mate a try? 

It wasn’t like your situation could get much worse. 

“So,” you started, clearing your throat as you dragged your stare back up to his face. “What now?” 

“Would you run away with me?” 

In a strange way, his serious grumble felt romantic, his hand outstretched and all those sharp claws retracted waiting for yours as his red eyes pried apart and pierced through your soul. 

Somewhere deep inside you, you knew that you were never going to say no. 

That your path was always going to wind back to him one way or another the moment you slid your palm into his. 

Still, you kind of thought he’d be taking you back to some poorly-constructed hut in the forest made out of twigs and branches – not an actual cottage of his own. 

Buried deep within a twisted grove of trees tightly-spaced, tucked away far enough you doubted any hunters or folk from your village would ever discover it on their own. 

It was old, vines sprawling over the walls, the thatched roof freshly-repaired as he pulled you through the front door. The inside was nice, a little small, but comfortable. Furniture mix-matched, most of it either roughly handcrafted or well, stolen, you supposed. 

“This is yours?” You asked, stepping inside as he shut the wooden door behind both of you. Slipping off your shoes, not sure if that was considered polite or not in werewolf culture. 

“Uh-huh,” he wryly nodded, not even glancing around when his gaze was focused solely on you. Looking at you sort of like you might be his next meal. “

“And I’m your mate?” You continued, mostly just wanting to hear him say it again. Confirm whatever this funny feeling inside you was. The connection that seemed to just intensify with each passing breath, each step he took closer. 

“You’re mine,” he murmured, bridging the distance in just two long strides. He didn’t touch you. Not yet. Just let his calloused palm hover above your cheek like he was considering it – and using every ounce of his restraint not to cave in and caress you. “And I’m yours.” 

“Do you want to be?” You swallowed hard, finding it hard to hold yourself back too. To not feel how firm his chest was, to not skim your fingers over his defined jaw. “Or is it just part of your werewolf-” 

“I want to be,” he shook his head, like he didn’t even want you to entertain any other idea. “I want you. I think I’d want you even if we weren’t bonded.” 

Enough to sit there and resist the bond between you for months while you whined and whispered about your boring life. 

Enough to stop you from being sent off in an arranged marriage. 

You got up on your tiptoes, letting your fingertips ghost over his cheeks as you pressed your lips to his in a timid kiss.

It was meant to be soft and slow. 

But the second your mouth connected with his, it was like someone had set your skin on fire. Pleasure you hadn’t planned on racing through your limbs, across your body in one massive rush. Shuddering at how sensitive everything abruptly was, abruptly aware of the breeze in the air, the pressure of his hand as he grabbed your waist and pressed your body up against his. 

As if it hurt for there to even be an inch between his chest and yours. 

His tongue danced across your bottom lip, asking for entry you quickly granted, exploring your mouth with a flattering fervor. 

Your thighs were already pressing together, warmth pooling as your walls clenched around nothing. But in between the heat, you felt a funny throb starting to build, begging for attention. 

“W-what’s your name?” You asked, belatedly realizing you still didn’t know it. 

“Sukuna,” he muttered, fingers sliding around to splay possessively over your spine, his steps guiding you back as he kissed you again. 

His tongue slipped back in your mouth as his hand travelled over the rough fabric of your dress, pausing to tch at how it rubbed against your skin. 

Sukuna was quick to pull it up over your head, throwing it down on the creaky wooden floorboards as he pushed open the door to his bedroom. 

You had a brief flash of contemplation, wondering whether or not you were really about to offer your virtue up to the beast that had been haunting you for well over half your life. 

But then you gave him another onceover, felt that fierce tingle travelling straight to your core, and you were committing to the animal inside you too. 

He pinned you to his bed in a flash, although it looked more like a nest. A few of your clothing items, shawls and dresses that had gone missing over the last couple years you assumed your mother had thrown out were all bundled up on the surface along with a tattered blanket, the warmth of his own scent mixed with your sweeter one striking you the second your back hit the thin mattress. 

“Are those-” Your voice died in your throat at how alarmingly cute the sheepish expression that crossed his face was. 

“I’m sorry,” he begrudgingly grunted an apology, jaw tense as he paused on top of you, his hands on either side of your head, hesitating like you might slip out and make a break for it. 

“What else did you steal?” You tried to tease, fingers loosely running over your old shawl close by.

“Nothing,” he grunted, not particularly believable as your lips curled up in a smile. 

Was it morally questionable? 

Yes, but when you’d wasted so long thinking that no one would ever like you, finding a man obsessed with you was too intoxicating for you to second guess it. 

You leaned forward and kissed him again, trying to match the frenzy behind his lips, a fever of your own starting to make all your thoughts feel loose, fuzzy. 

Limbs relaxing as your cunt started to ache, your fingers brushing through his soft hair, feeling his furry ears as his tail thwomped against the bed fast. 

His cock was digging into your thigh, throbbing and twitching with every little move you made. 

“You smell so fucking good,” he groaned, moving down to leave a messy trail of kisses down your jaw, over your throat as he began to sniff you. 

Sucking in deep inhales, grunting as he ran his tongue in sloppy circles over your nipples, lapping over your exposed skin with no real rhyme or reason. Skimming his teeth over the sensitive peaks, letting out lewd noises like he was the one being driven mad with his mouth. 

Nipping at you lightly, travelling lower until he was hovering over your pussy. 

“Jus’ need a taste,” he breathed, and before you could even fully spread your legs for him, his tongue was pushing inside you. 

It felt like he was trying to devour you. 

Lick up every single drop, dragging his tongue against your walls in messy strokes, dipping in-and-out at a mind-melting pace. 

Nails clawing at anything on his bed for grip, gasping for air as he lifted your hips off the bed so he could dive even deeper. 

None of the girls had ever talked about this. 

His thick digits were digging deep into your thighs, keeping you there as he worked his tongue in and swirled it with a devotion you were struggling to handle. 

You were losing it. 

Unravelling at a rate you never expected, wiggling and whimpering at how good it felt. How right it was to run your fingers through his soft strands. 

And despite it all, you were still greedy for more. 

Aching for him to stuff you with something bigger than his tongue. 

“P-please take me,” you whined, ruffling his hair as you peered down at his position between your soft thighs. 

His dark eyes widened, pupils completely blown, just a thin ring of red left as he processed what you had said. 

You didn’t take it back. 

Lips parted as you sucked in a shallow breath, silently daring him to do it. 

Before you blinked again, your thighs were being pressed up against your chest, squished and squeezed as he lined his leaking length up against your entrance. 

“Yeah?” He huffed, eyes narrowing as he saw the sweat starting to drip down your forehead, the way your thighs tensed and trembled before he even slid in. “You want me too?” “I do,” you nodded, feeling almost like you were making a vow you wouldn’t be able to take back as he pushed the first few inches in.

The pressure seared. 

Your stomach twisting into knots as your walls desperately squeezed down around him. He had to go slow, not desperately rutting or shoving, just slowly sliding into your warmth, his saliva and your slick making it easier for him to enter. 

“You’ve been keeping this from me this long?” He asked, his voice raw and reverberating through you as you found yourself looping your wrists around his neck. Thick tendons straining and flexing as he unclenched his jaw, your thighs straining from the way his fingers dug into your supple flesh. 

“I thought you were going to eat me,” you argued, pouting as he tilted his head back, using every ounce of his focus when his cock slipped in deeper, starting to rub against all those sensitive spots you had a hard time reaching yourself. 

Your own hand was nothing compared to him. 

“I might,” he chuckled, low and gritty. 

Tension thrumming thick in the air as you looked down and realized he still hadn’t bottomed out, your lips parting as you stared at the connection between your bodies. 

That intoxicating tingle you’d felt when he kissed you back had returned, your body squeezing and clenching and…changing? 

It finally struck you what was happening. 

His cock was literally molding you around him. 

The bond working its weird werewolf magic to make sure you’d be able to accommodate him not just comfortably, but pleasurably. So you wouldn’t be in pain as he pushed you to your limits. 

“Is this normal?” You gasped, not sure if you should be grateful or freaked out as he slipped another thick inch in. 

“You’re my first,” he shrugged, the lump in his throat bobbing like he was currently too preoccupied just by the way you were wrapped around him to think straight. 

“And werewolves don’t have multiple mates?” You questioned, lips pursed as you felt his cock prod that soft, spongy place in the back, your back arching up off the bed just for him to press you right back down. 

“You can’t be serious right now,” he froze, his cock twitching in time with his mouth. 

“I’m just asking,” you frowned, but he was quick to fuck your pout off, pounding back into you as you saw something in his face shift. 

Crack. 

Coming undone as he struggled to slow down once he started, his pace just picking up as he kissed you to wipe away your silly assumptions. 

“You’re it for me, got it?” He grunted, the taste of you on his tongue as he kissed you again. 

How were you supposed to not fall for that? 

Not turn to putty for him to play with when his calloused hand slipped down the inside of your thigh, the tantalizing tips of his claws lightly tracing over your skin to tease you. Swirling the tip of his fingers over your clit, toying with the bud there too as he ruthlessly rutted into you like an animal in heat. 

Was that all the two of you were now? 

“M’sorry,” he moaned, his mouth right next to yours as you sucked in a broken breath. “I can’t hold back.” 

“You don’t have to,” you whispered back, your voice all airy, half a pitch too high right as he rolled his hips forward, forcing the last few inches in. Your eyes rolled back in response, a whimper ripped from the back of your throat. 

Perhaps you should’ve asked Sukuna to reign it in a little. 

Because moments later, the base of his cock that already barely fit started to get bigger. 

He was knotting you. 

And somewhere in your lust-addled head, you liked it. A primal voice in the back of your brain begging to be bred. 

For him to fill you up and never let you go. 

“It’s-” You started, struggling to get any coherent words out when it didn’t feel like you had any room left in you for anything.

“Too much?” He grunted, starting to slip back out, to release you before it was too late. 

But you pulled at his hair, squeezing your thighs and sorta wishing they were wrapped around his waist instead to stop him. 

“No,” you spat out, straining to shake your head as he stalled there. “I need it.” 

You needed him. 

The idea of being apart, separated just a little suddenly seemed hellish, like it would be sheer torment to not feel the full force of him lodged inside of you. 

His knot stretched you out, your nails raking mean scratches down his massive back as the base of his cock continued to swell. Unable to so much as squirm, stuck in place as he split you open on his thick length. 

And truly? You wouldn’t trade him for any farmer’s son. 

Wouldn’t want to be anywhere other than here, in this cozy cottage being fucked stupid by a werewolf. 

He might be a beast, but at least he was wholly yours. 

His fingers returned to rubbing soothing circles over your swollen bud, coaxing you towards a climax as he staved off his own. Lips leaving kiss after kiss across your face, your thighs still held against your chest by his weight alone, folded and straining as he fit all of him inside of you. 

“You don’t know how crazy you make me,” he growled into your throat, and you were starting to think you had an idea. 

Infected with his intensity, itching for release as he dragged you to higher and higher peaks of pleasure. 

Sukuna rocked into you hard and fast, those pointy teeth sinking just above your collarbone to claim you, hard enough that you were sure you’d bleed, but it just heightened the bliss still burning beneath your skin. Unlatching just to drag his tongue over it in warm licks, his sniffing not stopping even as he sucked and kissed the sore spot better. 

“Make me wanna put pups in you,” he continued, half-delirious and drunk on you alone as his hips smacked rudely into your skin. 

“Do it then,” you half-whispered, so close yourself as his thumb pressed down delectably over your clit, the thin string in the pit of your stomach holding you together ready to snap right there with him. 

Sukuna’s head snapped up to you for just a second, the fading light of the day casting shadows across his face as he let out a ragged little laugh like you didn’t know what you were requesting of him. 

He looked softer somehow, shoulders more relaxed, his thrusts slowing as he stared, becoming more steady as you felt blinding need warping what little sense of reason you had remaining. 

You were digging at his shoulder blades, thighs trembling as you leaned up to kiss his throat this time, craving even more of him. Tearing at his skin as you started sucking on his collarbone, leaving lovebites that made him grit his teeth and groan your name while he fought the parts of him that made him so different from you to start with. 

“I’m gonna cum, fuck,” he hissed, barely holding on as you nodded along.

His fingers roughly massaged into you faster, to make sure you came right as he did, your body shaking as you broke down for him, pretty little stars splashing across your vision as you scrunched your eyes shut and probably left a fresh set of scratches across his skin, feeling him shudder and shake on top of you as he called out your name again. 

You let out your moan, something that was supposed to sound like Sukuna but just came out strangled, too stuffed to really care about anything other than the size of him still filling you up so entirely. 

Unable to move back or forward, feeling something wet on your face as the scent of sweat and sex and something sweet invaded your senses. 

You let go of his shoulder blades, blinking a few times as you went to rest your arms over your head instead – just for him to snag your wrist and flip it around to examine the scar his old bite had left there.

“I guess I’m your problem forever now, hm?” You asked, the bond between you feeling a little less like a thin string and more like a heavy chain tying you to him. 

Unbreakable. 

“You’re not a problem,” he wryly muttered, not quite as amused as he tenderly dragged his thumb over the marred skin. “Just a brat.” 

Like he wasn’t the one whose cum was plugged up inside you thanks to his still-throbbing knot. Keeping him locked in place as you blinked up at him with damp eyes, tears of pleasure streaked down your cheeks this time.

Sukuna cleared his throat, his pretty jaw tensing as he stared down at the narrow space between your bodies.  

“So, uh, how do you feel about werepups?”

meanwhile reader’s fiancé

sukuna had been fighting since he was fifteen and filled with a rage even he couldn’t understand. 

toji found him bloody outside a convenience store after some older guys tried jumping him for gambling money. 

it was clear they didn’t get the money but sukuna took that fire in his gaze out on them. 

sukuna still recalled the way toji looked down at him, droplets cascading down his sharp features and dark hair, damp cigarette hanging from his mouth while blood dripped steadily from sukuna’s split brow. 

“you fight like an animal,” toji began, taking a drag of his fading cig before tilting his head at the salmon haired boy, “what if i told you that you could beat the shit out of guys every day and get paid for it?” 

a fucking dream is what that was. he gets to utilize his anger and he could finally get out of his father’s house. 

how could sukuna even say no? 

somehow, it turned into this. 

years later, ryomen sukuna had become the name whispered through underground rings across the city. not because he was the biggest or the strongest, but because he was cruel. 

there was something deeply unsettling about the way sukuna fought. 

controlled, almost lazy sometimes. like violence came so naturally to him that he didn’t even need to think about it. 

people feared men who fought emotionally. 

they feared ryomen sukuna more because he never did. 

most nights, he fought beneath screaming neon lights while crowds chanted his name loud enough to shake the walls. 

they bet on him like he was a sure thing and fuck, did he get a shitload of money from it. 

he’d leave each night, beaten and bruised with a duffel of cash hanging off his shoulder.

he was living the dream.

that was until he arrived home, in his apartment downtown, and sat in silence while somebody else’s emotions bled quietly into his chest. 

a girl he’d never met yet somehow knew like the back of his hand, all too intimately. 

he knew she liked coffee because of the bursts of energy he’d feel during mornings where he usually slept in because his fights usually carried into the night. 

he knew she did yoga often because his muscles weren’t as sore as they would get when he was younger and god knows it wasn’t his doing. he didn’t stretch nearly as much as toji nagged at him to. 

he also knew that she despised him. 

that one was obvious. 

their bond always sharpened after his fights. her irritation sat bright and hot beneath his ribs every time he came home bruised and bloody. 

sometimes he couldn’t differentiate between his own rage and hers. 

maybe they were more alike than he thought. 

truthfully, sukuna didn’t know how to do things any differently and frankly, he didn’t care enough to. 

he hated this whole soulmates shit. why would the universe ever pair two people together with the utmost certainty that they were perfect for each other?

and what fucking masacre did this girl commit to be bonded with him of all people? 

violence was the only thing sukuna had ever been good at and he wouldn’t change that for anyone, especially some girl who was almost a mere figment of his imagination. 

he did that sometimes. pretended that he was a non-existent and that he was merely hallucinating her. 

non-existents made up a very small part of the population and they were essentially humans who didn’t have soulmates. like toji was. 

lucky bastard. 

sometimes sukuna believed toji was lying because he’d get this distant look on his face some days, kind of like himself when he felt his own soulmate torment him. 

so maybe he was a late bloomer? 

either way, he was in a better situation than sukuna was. 

“your girl’s pissed again?” toji commented dryly from where he leaned against the boxing ring ropes, head tilted with a knowingness sukuna hated. 

toji was the one sukuna had to confide in because who else did he have? 

when he was overwhelmed as a young teenager about his soulmate, toji would be the one he would reluctantly go to. the older man had taken him under his wing, so yes, he did trust him more than anyone. 

he also knew that toji cared about him in his own fucked up way. 

sukuna’s knuckles ached tonight, phantom annoyance curling beneath his skin that didn’t belong to him. it was her. 

probably studying somewhere in the city while silently wishing death upon him. 

the thought almost made him grin. 

throughout the years, pissing her off became a hobby of some sort, though he knew she didn’t find it nearly as amusing as he did. 

“at least you know she’s got personality.” toji stated once more as sukuna finally stopped punching and turned to shoot the man a glare. 

“shut the fuck up.”

toji huffed out a laugh, “god help you both when you finally meet.”

the thought made sukuna freeze momentarily. 

it was almost sad. 

usually, at least from what sukuna knew, people usually couldn’t wait to meet their soulmates. 

then there was sukuna, filled with dread at the mere idea. 

sukuna hated even talking about the bond. 

he hated how aware he was of her. 

because despite everything, the distance and never seeing her to begin with, she felt woven into him already, like a haunting. 

some nights, when his insomnia clawed violently at his nerves after fights, he’d feel her wrap her arms around herself beneath warm blankets god knows where. 

and sleep came easier those nights. 

he couldn’t explain it and truthfully, he didn’t like to think about it. 

he hated talking about her because the truth was ugly. 

that he didn’t particularly hate her. which is exactly why he knew meeting her would ruin everything. 

naturally, his solution was to sabotage everything which is why he started to sleep around with non-existents whenever he got the chance. 

and he knew what it did to her. 

good. he hoped it made her despise him enough to never want anything to do with him, whether they meet now or twenty years down the line. 

sukuna didn’t want anything to do with her. 

∞

you hated downtown on friday nights. 

it was always too loud and all too crowded. 

neon signs bled into rain-slick streets while bass-heavy music spilled from every open doorway along the block. 

girls stumbled across sidewalks in tiny dresses and tall heels, drunken laughter cutting through the humid summer night air while taxis lined the streets endlessly. 

the city looked beautiful after dark, but you still wanted to be everywhere but here. 

“stop looking at people with that judgy look of yours.” shoko muttered beside you, nudging your shoulder lightly as the three of you crossed the street.

“i’m not judging, i’m just looking around…” you defended with a huff as you hugged yourself protectively, little kitten heels clicking against the pavement. 

“you are judging,” utahime confirmed, “it’s your classic disgusted and glare-ey look.” 

“well excuse me, you’re the ones who brought me to crackhead-ville.” you glared at the two girls as shoko rolled her eeys before hooking her arm through yours anyway. 

she pulled you towards the entrance of yet another overcrowded building downtown.

apparently, tonight’s party was being held somewhere above an abandoned old bar. or beneath it. 

either way, something you found entirely too ominous but you were too distracted when shoko was explaining to actually disagree. 

your soulmate had spent the entire evening restless beneath your skin. not angry but worse. 

aware. 

you felt him constantly tonight. 

a steady pulse of adrenaline humming through your bloodstream that didn’t belong to you. 

your chest had felt tight since leaving the penthouse, some strange tension settling low in your stomach like your body was anticipating something before your mind could catch up.

it was unsettling. 

you blamed the lack of sleep, or rather, you blamed him. you blamed him for it all. 

“ew, ew…” you muttered as shoko pulled you through the door into what you could only describe as chaos. 

warmth and noise hit you instantly. 

bodies crowded wall to wall beneath flashing lights while music shook violently through the floorboards. 

cigarette smoke lingered in the air despite the open windows somewhere deeper inside the space. 

you physically recoiled. 

“oh my god,” utahime muttered beside you, laughing softly at the expression painting your features, “you look horrified.” 

“i am horrified!” 

shoko snorted, “rich kids.” 

you threw her a glare before the three of you squeezed through the crowd until you reached a quieter section tucked near the back of the room. 

a curved leather couch sat half-empty beneath dim red lights, thankfully far enough from the speakers that your skull stopped vibrating the second you sat down. 

you exhaled deeply, chest deflating as you blinked up at your friends who were looking at you with amusement. 

“drinks?” utahime questioned as shoko nodded eagerly while you merely hummed, shoulders tense as you gazed around the sea of bodies. 

utahime disappeared toward the bar while shoko took a seat beside you, the leather beneath you sticky in a way that had you shuddering, sitting at the very edge of the couch. 

fuck, you hated this and you couldn’t explain why. 

yes, you hated parties in general but you just felt wrong. 

“you’re being weird tonight.” shoko observed, eyes narrowed on your tense figure. 

you frowned faintly, “i know…i feel weird.”

your skin felt like it was buzzing, chest vibrating in a way it usually wasn’t. 

it wasn’t necessarily bad, but simply off. 

you felt your soulmate more than ever tonight, you were almost hyperaware. 

he felt electric. 

every emotion coming from him felt sharper somehow, close enough that you could almost mistake them for your own. 

your pulse kept jumping for no reason. 

fuck, you hated this. 

“is it devils dick?” shoko casually asked as your eyes closed momentarily. 

how would you explain that it was both yes and no. 

yes, the bond felt different tonight. 

but no, it wasn’t muscle aches or phantom pain you were feeling on his end, though you didn't want to speak too soon. 

it was a friday after all. friday nights usually meant bruised ribs by saturday morning. 

“oh my god, guys!” hime stood before you, handing shoko her drink before placing a water bottle in your hand, “everyone’s saying gojo and his crew are gonna be here!” 

your eyes rolled gently, very much aware of utahime’s obsession with those random illegitimate fighters. 

underground fights happened constantly throughout the city. 

illegal betting rings buried beneath clubs and abandoned buildings, violent enough that respectable people pretended they didn’t exist despite everyone secretly knowing otherwise. 

your father even told you how known politicians and well known figures even placed bets they hid from the public.  

and lately, there was one name that everyone kept talking about-

“do you think sukuna would show up?” shoko questioned, eyes wide with excitement, taking a sip of her cherry vodka as you looked between the two girls. 

ryomen sukuna. 

you’d heard it constantly from utahime the past few months. 

uathime, shoko, sora and percy often went on double dates to these underground fights you had zero interest in. 

you were very much used to fifth wheeling alongside your friends, that wasn’t the issue. the issue was rooted in the prospect of spending the night in a filthy underground boxing ring riddled with people and violence alike. yuck. 

still, amongst all the fighters utahime gushed about, ryomen sukuna seemed to be the most known. 

the undefeated underground fighter with pink hair and a snake tattoo across his shoulders and collarbones. 

people were terrified of him just as equally as they were obsessed with him. 

“percy says sukuna knocked his opponent unconscious in under thirty seconds last week!” shoko stated, taking another sip as utahime nodded frantically. 

“he’s insane!” utahime gushed, “like, gojo is obviously a show off and just cares about the clout he gets but sukuna? he’s terrifying…”

utahime continued, you were sure. you could see her mouth moving but you didn’t-couldn’t register the words she'd uttered. 

the world around you turned hazy, just enough to feel like everything slowed in a way that definitely wasn’t normal. 

your heartbeat stopped, not metaphorically, but physically. 

a sharp wave of adrenaline crashed violently into your chest hard enough to steal the breath straight from your lungs. 

you went still, every muscle in your body tightening instinctively. 

you could see both of the girls leaning towards you, brows furrowed in concern, mouths moving and uttering words you knew were dipped in concern. you couldn’t hear any of it. 

you swallowed hard, eyes darting up and around you, as if a siren was luring you towards the crowd, come to me, come, come. 

fuck, were you drugged or something?

your heartbeat stuttered painfully beneath your ribs, once, twice then again. 

you felt like you’d been dropped underwater while everyone else remained above the surface. 

the bond felt raw and entirely too overwhelming.

it felt like standing at the edge of something life-altering, like your soul had recognized something before your mind could catch up to it. 

for the first time since you’d first felt your soulmate, he didn’t feel far away. 

you had grown used to the idea of him, something intangible and not truly real. 

merely a ghost haunting the edges of your nervous system, phantom bruises in the middle of lectures and an adrenaline rush at three in the morning. 

he was the deep-seated exhaustion that riddled your body but didn’t belong to you. 

but this felt real. close enough to touch. 

the sensation crawled slowly beneath your skin, winding around your ribs like invisible string being pulled tighter and tighter and tighter until you thought you might choke on it. 

the realization hit your bloodstream like a drug. 

he was here, you knew it. you could feel it in your bones. 

your eyes darted towards the door that had swung open, summer air rushing inside alongside four figures dressed almost entirely in black. 

the first thing you noticed was height. 

they all carried themselves with the same dangerous sort of confidence, the kind that came from men who had never truly feared consequences before.