synopsis: sukuna was used to attention. used to being wanted. you didnāt look at him like that. and somehow, that made him want you more.
pairings: athlete!sukuna x nerdy!reader
contains: fluff, slow burn, athlete!sukuna, shy/nerdy reader, mild language, suggestive themes, soft!sukuna, first kiss, college au, 6k words
a/n: not me turning a āquick drabbleā into a whole slow burn LMAOO š but i love soft sukuna idc. hope you guys enjoy!!
the field churned with bodies and noise, pads colliding, coaches barking, the crisp bite of autumn carrying the scent of cut grass and sweat. Sukuna jogged toward the sideline with his helmet tucked under one arm, wearing that lazy, self-satisfied smirk he'd perfected years ago.
the roar of fans, the squeals from the sidelines, the constant attention, it all blurred into a familiar hum he manipulated without effort. every grin, every shove, every perfectly timed smirk landed exactly the way he intended.
perdictable. comfortable.
he tossed a ball to a rookie, watched it bounce off the kid's hands, and laughed. "seriously? that's your idea of catching?" he pushed his helmet back just enough for his hair to fall into place, sunlight catching on the sweat at his brow like he'd planned it.
the girls along the fence practically melted. phonce lifted. whispers of his name drifted on the wind. some waved. some stared. some looked like they might faint. he was used to itā
being the untouchable one, the adored one, the one everyone wanted a piece of. he fed off it.
and yet... he felt nothing.
he'd run this field a thousand times, played thousands of games, and entertained a thousand fans. he could predict every reaction before it happened.
control, power, and confidence were constants. almost too easy.
practice wrapped up in a mess of whistles and groans. players stretched, grabbed water, and drifted toward the locker room. Sukuna adjusted his pads and jogged along the edge of the field. flashing a grin at the lingering fans.
then he was making his way to the locker room, keeping his pace casual, tossing a few nods at his teammates.
that's was when he saw you.
not on the field. not in the stands. not clustered with the girls who usually hovered for a smile. you were on the campus path near the library, moving at an unhurried pace, headphones resting around your neck, a small stack of books balanced neatly in your arms.
completely untouched by the noise of practice. you didn't look toward the field. didn't look toward him. didn't look anywhere that begged for attention.
people didn't ignore him. ever.
he slowed, easing into a stretch against the railing as if that were his intention all along. hiz gaze lingered on her, longer than he meant to. something about you composure pulled at him, the way you moved with quiet certainty, as if the world around you didn't demand anything from you. as if his world didn't exist.
ordinary, and somehow... impossible to look away from.
he scoffed under his breath, shaking the thought off. "get it together, Sukuna," he muttered. "she's just a student. nothing special."
but even as he jogged toward the locker room, you stayed in his mind. the subtle tilt of her head when she adjusted her books. the faint smile you gave yourself as a page shifted in the breeze, even though the book was already closed. you weren't dazzled by the noise, the attention, the spectacle, or by him.
he didn't recognize the feeling creeping up on him. not nerves. not interested. something sharper. something curious.
he friends called out from the sideline, teasing, "yo, sukuna, you zoning out?" he waved them off with a practiced grin. "relax, just hydrating." he tossed the bottle aside, but the easy swagger felt thinner than usual.
that sparkā small, irritating, impossible to ignore, followed him all the way to the locker room. he tucked it away, but not deeply. he made a quiet decision: he'd find you again. not today. not yet.
and for the first time in a long while, leaving the field didn't feel like escaping boredom; it felt like stepping toward something he couldn't quite name.
the library smelled faintly of paper and old coffee, the kind of stillness that settled into your bones. only the soft clatter of keyboards and the occasional page turning broke the silence.
sukuna pushed through the glass doors, wiping sweat from the back of his neck. he hadn't planned on coming here after practice, but the heat on the field had been suffocating. he needed somewhere cooler. quieter. somewhere that didn't orbit around him.
bookshelves stretched in long, orderly rows, desks scattered between them. a handful of students worked in silence, heads bent over laptops and notebooks.
no cheering. no staring. no one whispering his name like a prayer.
the anonymity hit him like a breath of cold air.
he spotted an empty table near the back and started toward it, juggling his backpack and practice bag. thenā movement. a soft bump. papers sliding. a stack of books wobbling dangerously.
"ohā sorry!" he blurted, reaching out to steady the pile before it toppled.
you looked up. headphones around her neck. eyes wide but not startled. a notebook open in front of her, highlighters arranged in neat little clusters, laptop humming quietly. strands of your coiled hair escaped from a loose bun, a pencil tucked behind one ear.
"it's fine," you said, voice even and unbothered. "nothing got damaged."
sukuna froze for a moment. calm. polite. completely unaffected. not flustered. not impressed. not even mildly thrown off.
that alone made him blink.
"i'm sukuna," he said, leaning against the table with practiced ease, letting a smirk curl at his mouth. "and you're...?"
"Y/N," you returned, straightening your notes, barely glancing at him.
he raised a brow. "Y/N, huh? cute. you, uh... come here often?" the teasing lilt in his voice came automatically, the same charm that usually worked without effort.
you looked up briefly, expression unreadable. "sometimes. i like the quiet."
quiet. neutral. not playing along.
he slide into the seat across from you, dropping his bag to the floor. his mind scrambled for something clever, something smooth, but the usual lines felt out of place hereā too loud for this soft, steady space you occupied.
"so," he tried, leaning back casually, "you're just gonna ignore the fact that the star athlete of Jujutsu University almost knocked your books over?" he flashed the grin that usually earned giggles.
you shrugged lightly. "i said it's fine,"
he opened his mouth, then shut it again. why was he suddenly...stuck? he could talk circles around anyone. but you, quiet, composed, impossible to read, made his confidence falter.
then you spoke again, voice gentle, not mocking. "do you always bump into strangers and knock their stuff over?"
he blinked. gentle curiosity. not teasing. not flirting. just... normal.
"uh... sometimes," he said, clearing his throat. "depends if they're... interesting."
your brows lifted, "interesting?"
"shit." he cursed to himself. that sounded way too flirtatious. "i meantā your books. notes. whatever. i don't know."
you gave him a small, polite smile and went back to highlighting. "it's okay. really."
and that was it. no swooning. no nervous laughter. just quiet focus.
he watched you for a moment longer, trying to name the feeling twisting in his chest. curiosity, yes. intrigue, definitely. but also something sharperāfrustration, maybe. or excitement.
he shifted in his seat, fidgeting with his notebook, pretending to write something. but his eyes kept drifting back to youā how you concentrated, how you bit your lip when you were thinking, how you seemed entirely unaffected by him.
eventually, he sighed and stood, brushing off his shorts. "well... good luck with your notes."
you looked up, offering another small, polite smile. "thanks, good luck with practice. or... whatever brought you here."
he hesitated a second too long before turning away.
as he pushed open the library doors and stepped back into the afternoon light, your image lingeredā calm, ordinary, unbothered.
that spark flared again, warm and irritating. he'd find a reason to see you again. soon.
the campus buzzed with late-morning noiseāfootsteps on concrete, scattered conversations, the rustle of backpacks and jackets. you kept your headphones in, letting the music blur the world as you hugged your textbooks to your chest. it felt like any other day: quiet, predictable, easy to disappear into.
of course. leaning against the cafeteria railing like he owned the sunlight, hoodie unzipped over his practice jersey, hair catching the breeze just right. you didn't look directly at him, but you felt it, the flicker of attention, the way his gaze brushed over you like he was taking measure.
you pretended not to notice. head down. curl tucked behind your ear. grip tightening around your books.
but when you reached the library, he was already there.
"you again," he drawled, leaning against the doorframe with that maddening grin. "you've got a real talent for finding the same corner every day."
your headphones slipped slightly as you blinked at him. "i... like quiet spots," you murmured, slipping past him and heading toward your usual nook.
he followed at an easy pace, as if he had nowhere else to be. "Quiet spots, huh? wouldn't have guessed," he teased, dropping into the seat across from you without waiting for an invitation.
a small, polite laugh escaped you, more out of nerves than anything. you weren't supposed to get flustered by athletes. not here. not now. and yet...
he leaned back, eyes fixed on you, smirk softening into something more curious. "so," he asked, "what's on the agenda today? algebra? poetry? rocket science?"
you glanced up from your notes, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "calculus," you said. "you'd probably get bored."
his eyebrows lifted. "calculus? boring or...fun?"
"depends on the professor," you replied. "some make it interesting. some don't."
he chuckled, low and warm. "i bet you make it interesting," he murmured, eyes drifting to your scribbles, the doodles in the margins, the way your pencil tapped lightly against the page.
you froze for a moment, surprised he'd noticed something so small. "i just... write things down," you said quietly, trying to refocus."
"mm." he leaned in slightly. "i like it."
the compliment lingered longer than it should have.
over the next few weeks, it became a pattern, almost a ritual. you chose quiet corners, headphones in, trying to stay invisible. yet somehow, sukuna always found you.
sometimes he "accidentally" ended up in the library for a group project. sometimes he deliberately sat across from you in the cafeteria. sometimes he commented on your book or offered a half-serious tip about your assignments.
and everytime, your chest fluttered in a way you didn't want to acknowledge.
one afternoon, he nudged a textbook toward you. "you forgot this," he said, his hand brushing yours. you flinchedābarelyābut he noticed.
"you didn't even notice," he teased. "what's wrong with you?"
"nothing," you said quickly, eyes dropping to your notes.
he leaned back, smirk fading into something more thoughtful. "you're...different," he said quietly. "not like anyone else."
you felt his gaze, steady, observant, almost too intent. you tried to ignore it, burying yourself in your notebook, but you caught him watching you more than once.
and it wasn't just the library. he lingered in doorways of classes he wasn't taking. walked by your table in the cafeteria. whispered jokes only you could hear. smirked when you tried not to smile.
his friends noticed first.
"yo, sukuna," toji called during practice, "you spacing out again?"
he shot them a glare, cheeks warming. "shut up. im... thinking."
"about her?" gojo teased.
he froze, fingers tightening around his water bottle. "i'm notā" he started, then cut himself off and walked away, face flushed.
you didn't know any of this. but part of you... would've liked to.
it wasn't just flirting. it was the small moments, the brush of hands, shared laughter, the way he leaned close when explaining a problem you couldn't solve. each movement added spark, another flutter you couldn't quite name.
he noticed everything: the way your curls fell when you concentrated, the soft hum of your laugh, the way you twirled your pencil when you were thinking. and he didn't know how to act around youāwhether to be cocky, honest, teasing, or something real.
you noticed the shift too. the softer smiles. the quieter laughs. the way he lingered just a little too long.
it was confusing. intriguing. a little thrilling.
one afternoon, you shared a book on probability. he leaned over your shoulder, voice low. "try it this way," he murmured, showing you a method you hadn't considered. his hand brushed yours again.
you froze, heart thudding. "thanks," you whispered, meeting his eyes.
his smirk falteredā just slightly. "don't mention it," he said, voice softer than you'd ever heard it.
by the end of the week, it wasn't just about the books or quiet corners. it was the way he found you. the way he stayed. the way he made the quiet parts of your day feel a little less predictable, and a lot more alive.
and sukuna realized something too: for the first time in a long time, he didn't want to predict what came next.
by now, it wasn't a coincidence.
you noticed it first in small thingsā the way sukuna kept appearing in places he had no real reason to be. leaning against the wall outside the library. standing near your lecture hall just as class ended. sliding into the cafeteria seat across from you like it was reserved for him.
at first, you tried to convince yourself it was random.
but randomness didn't happen this consistently.
"you're following me," you said one afternoon, settling into your usual spot in the back of the library without even looking up.
a chair scraped softly across from you.
sukuna dropped into it with a quiet exhale. "bold claim," he murmured. "what makes you think i'd go out of my way for you?"
you turned a page. "you're here."
then a low. amused scoff. "alright. fair"
you allowed yourself the smallest smile.
his gaze lingered a moment too long, something softer flickering behind his usual smirk, before he leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. "so what's on the menu today? calculus? quantum physics? something thrilling?"
"statistics," you said, tapping your pencil. "you wouldn't get it."
his eyes narrowed playfully. "you underestimate me."
"yeah," he said, leaning forward now. "try me."
you slid your notebook toward him. "solve this."
he studied the problem, brows drawing together. you watched him. really watched him, as if confidence shifted into something quieter, more focused.
"...okay," he muttered. "give me a minute."
you rested your chin in your hand.
a minute passed. then another.
he clicked his tongue. "this is stupid."
a laugh slipped out before you could stop it.
his head snapped up. "what?"
"nothing," you said, though your smile betrayed you.
his eyes lingered on it, something warm flickering in his expression. not ego. not irritation. something almost... fond.
"you think you're funny," he muttered.
he huffed quietly, shaking his head before reaching into his pocket. his phone appeared in his hand, and for once, he didn't look entirely sure of himself.
"you're not always here," he said, tapping the edge of your notebook with his knuckle.
you frowned slightly. "what?"
"when i need help," he added quickly, like he needed to justify it.
he held his phone out toward you.
"justāput your number in."
you hesitated for half a second, then took it.
"for academic purposes?" you murmured, typing it in.
"yeah," he said, watching you a little too closely. "obviously."
"alright," he said, pushing the notebook back. "explain it."
you blinked. "you're asking for help?"
"don't get used to it," he said, but there was no bite behind it.
you leaned in, pointing at the equation. "you're overthinking it. if you simplify this part firstā"
you lean a little closer without thinking, your shoulder nearly brushing his as you point at the page.
barely. brief. but unmistakable.
you pulled back instinctively, clearing your throat. "then you just plug it in here."
"right," he said quietly.
for a moment, neither of you spoke. the air felt charged.
he tapped his fingers against the table, glancing at you, then away, then back again. "you do that a lot."
you shrugged, ignoring the warmth creeping your neck. "it's just practice."
"still," he murmured, eyes never leaving you.
and it didn't stop in the library.
it spilled into everything else.
the first time it happened at the coffee shop, you almost didn't notice him. you were scrolling through your notes in line when a voice cut in beside you.
"you're gonna ruin your eyes doing that."
you looked up. sukuna stood next to you, hands in his pockets, looking far too comfortable for someone who shouldn't have been there.
he smirked. "you say that like you're not happy to see me."
you rolled your eyes. "what are you doing here?"
"getting coffee," he said. "what does it look like?"
"you don't seem like the coffee type."
"oh?" he stepped closer. "what type do i seem like?"
you considered him. "energy drinks."
he laughed. "that's rude."
"wow," he said. "you're brutal."
when you reached the counter, he was still beside you.
"what are you getting?" he asked.
he nodded once, then stepped forward and ordered both drinks.
you blinked. "you didn't have toā"
you stared at him, caught off guard. this wasn't the sukuna everyone talked about. this version was quieter. more deliberate.
"thanks," you said softly.
he shrugged, but the faint pink at the back of his neck gave him away.
later, you sat outside on a low wall near the campus path, the sky shifting into soft evening colors.
"you always this quiet?" he asked.
"only around people i don't like," you said
he choked. "good to know."
you smiled. "i'm kidding."
silence settled, comfortable, warm.
sukuna leaned back on his hands, staring at the sky before glancing at you again.
didn't understand why sitting here with you felt better than any party, any game, any attention he usually soaked up.
didn't understand why your quiet presence made something in his chest feel... full.
it irritated him. confused him.
and he didn't want it to stop.
"you're smiling again," he said suddenly.
"yeah," he murmured. "you do that when you're thinking."
your fingers tightened around your cup. "you notice a lot."
he didn't answer right away.
the way you tucked your hair, your ear when you were nervous. the soft him you made when you were focused. the way your laugh came out was gentle, like you were trying not to disturb the world.
it wasn't supposed to matter.
"you're... different," he said quietly.
"yeah," he muttered. "guess i mean it."
something shifted thenāsubtle, but unmistakable.
and for once, sukuna didn't have a clever line ready.
just that strange, unfamiliar feeling sitting heavy in his chest.
something dangerously close to care.
when you finally parted ways, nothing had been said outright.
no confessions. no declarations.
but something had changed.
you felt it in the way he lingered a moment longer before leaving.
in the way your name sounded different when he said it.
and sukuna realized he wanted more than just your attention.
you hadn't planned on going.
gamedays were everything avoidedātoo loud, too crowded, too much. you preferred quiet corners, soft music humming in your ears, the steady comfort of a pencil on paper.
not the kind of noise that swallowed you whole.
you stood in front of your closet, staring at your clothes like they might magically decide for you.
your phone buzzed on the bed.
you hesitated before picking it up
your fingers hovered over the screen.
you weren't sure when the shift happenedā when he went from showing up uninvited to... asking.
waiting. wanting an answer.
you typed. deleted. typed again.
the three dots appeared immediately.
a quiet laugh slipped out of you.
this time, the pause stretched longer.
your chest tightened, not with fear, but with something warm and unfamiliar.
you stared at the message longer than you meant to.
by the time you reached the stadium, the noise had already begun ti swell. not overwhelmingāyet. just a steady hum of voices, footsteps, and rising cheers, like a wave gathering strength before it breaks.
you stayed near the edge.
close enough to see the field.
far enough to slip away if you needed to.
your fingers curled around the railing, grounding yourself as your gaze drifted across the fieldā
you still weren't sure why you came.
you stood out without even trying, helmet tucked under his arm, shoulders relaxed, confidence rolling off him like heat. teammates moved around him, the crowd chanted his name, but he looked... focused.
for a moment, you wondered if the version of him you'd come to know, the quiet one, the observant one, was real at all.
out of thousands of faces, out of all the noise and movementā his eyes locked on you.
and something in him shifted.
barely. subtle. invisible to anyone else.
his posture straightened. his gaze sharpened. something soft flickered behind the usual confidence.
then, just barelyā he smirked.
and suddenly, you were painfully aware of why you were here.
the game kicked off fast.
hard hits. clean passes. the crowd roaring with every play.
every movement is precise. every decision sharp. he played like the field belonged to him, like gravity bent around his choices.
but something was different.
not wrong. just... different.
because between plays, between whistles, between breathsā
his eyes flicked toward the stands.
quick. brief. like it didn't mean anything.
except it kept happening.
like he needed to be sure you were still there.
he played like he had something to prove.
every movement sharper. every play cleaner. like he wanted you to see himā not the legend, not the starā
when the final whistle blew, they won.
but sukuna didn't celebrate.
he didn't even look at his teammates.
his eyes searched the stands.
you didn't realize you'd moved until you were near the exit where players walked through, heart pounding from everythingā noise, adrenaline, him.
sukuna stood in front of you, closer than before, breath uneven, eyes locked on yours like he'd been looking for you the entire time.
"you were good," you said softly.
he huffed a laugh, "yeah?"
the noise around you faded, distant and unimportant.
"you watched the whole game," he said.
his lips twitched. "guess i did something right."
his gaze dipped to your lipsājust for a secondāthen back to your eyes.
"you're...different," he murmured.
you almost laughed. "you keep saying that."
his voice dropped, softer, more honest.
"you don't look at me like everyone else does."
you swallowed. "how do i look at you?"
he stepped closer, warmth radiating off him.
"you are," you whispered.
something in him settled, like a decision finally made.
"you're gonna be the death of me," he murmured.
you barely had time to react beforeā
close enough that your breath hitched before you could stop it.
for a moment, neither of you moved.
the roar of the stadium faded into something distant and blurred, like the world had quietly shifted away, leaving only the small, charged space between you.
his hand liftedāslowlyādeliberatley like he was thinking through every inch of the movement before his fingers brushed your cheek.
you leaned into the touch without meaning to.
and something in his expression softened completely.
not rushed. not careless.
his lips met yours with a kind of hesitant certainty, like he was testing the moment, making sure it was real. and when you didn't pull away, when you leaned in that tiny bit closer.
he exhaled against your mouth like heād been holding that breath for longer than he realized.Ā
his thumb traced a soft line along your cheek, grounding you. his other hand settled at your waist, not pulling, not holding like he needed the reassurance that you were actually there.
your heart hammered so loudly you were sure he could feel it through your fingertips as they tightened in his shirt.
like something that had been building quietly for far too long, finally clicked into place.
when he pulled back, it wasn't abrupt.
his forehand rested against yours, his breath uneven, brushing softly across your lips.
his thumb swept once more across your cheek before he let out a quiet breath.
a faint, almost disbelieving smile tugged at his, softer than anything you'd ever seen on him.
he didn't hide how much he loved the sound.Ā
or how much he wanted more of it.
