#sukunaryomen

Frat!kuna who was shocked when you yelled at him for bumping into you, making you drop your books.

Frat!kuna, who scoffed when his fraternity teased him for ‘daydreaming’ while looking at you in class, he denied, even tho it was obvious that he was. not that he’d ever admit that.

Frat!kuna who’d denied his own feelings, the need to touch you, feel you, kiss you.

Frat!kuna who was brainstorming how to ask you out at 3 am in his bed. when he should’ve been studying.

Frat!Kuna who tried not to fumble with his words when he asked you to ‘get coffee or some shit’.

Frat!kuna who looked big, mean, and scary. but was slightly flustered when you held onto his arm in the busy street.

Frat!kuna who’d never admit he’s head over heels for you, but he’d glare anyone who even dares to look at you

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a/n: hey guys, should i highkey make this a fanfic? idk.. lmk if yall liked dis..

pairing ✮⋆˙ sukuna ryomen x reader

summary ˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞 after meeting sukuna ryomen — the guy who tells you to “go away” like it’s a personality trait, you do the opposite and keep showing up. despite his words, he never actually makes you leave, and somewhere between the arguments and quiet moments, his walls start to crack. when you finally give him the choice to let you go for real.. the truth is forced to surface.

wc — 3.3k?

the bass thumped a restless heartbeat against the soles of your sneakers, vibrating up your spine. bodies pressed in a humid mass, the air thick with cheap cologne and spilled beer.

laughter splintered through the cacophony, a thousand conversation vying for space.

you navigated the cramped living room, a half-empty red cup clutched in your hand, when a flash of pink caught your eye.

he stood by the kitchen doorway, a wall of indifference in the chaos. his black shirt stretched taut across broad shoulders, and a silver chain glinted at his throat.

his eyes, the colour of scarlet red, swept over the room, dismissing each face until they landed on yours.

a flicker, almost imperceptible, passed through them before settling into a familiar, unyielding gaze. sukuna, his reputation preceded him like a thunderclap.

cold, blunt, a man who built walls with words and reinforced them with silence.

“you” he articulated, his voice a low thrum that cut through the surrounding din, surprisingly clear. he didn’t raise his voice, yet the word landed with the weight of an accusation.

“go away”

a slow smile stretched across your face. most people would recoil, embarrassed. most people did.

you, however, found it charming in its audacity. you took another step closer. “already?” you asked, your voice a playful challenge.

you gestured around the crowded room. “the party just started”

his lips, thin and precise, tightened. he didn’t move, didn’t shift his weight, just held your gaze with an intensity that promised a storm. “i don’t repeat myself”

“good to know” you replied, taking another sip of your drink. “because i’m not leaving”

a beat of silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken challenge. others glanced over, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

they expected you to wilt, to retreat. sukuna’s reputation ensured it. but you met his stare, a quiet defiance burning in your eyes. he watched you, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

then, without another word, he turned, shouldering past a cluster of laughing students, and vanished down a hallway.

“see?” you muttered to the empty space he left behind. “he never actually said ‘please’”

the next week you saw him, it was a tuesday afternoon. you walked past the student union, textbooks tucked under your arm, when you spotted him on a bench.

a worn leather-bound book open in his hands. sunlight caught the light pink streaks in his hair. he looked engrossed, a rare sight given his usual posture of detached observation.

you veered off course, your steps deliberately light, and settled onto the bench beside him. he didn’t flinch, didn’t even look up.

“reading?” you inquired, leaning slightly to peer at the page. “didn’t take you for the literary type”

his gaze lifted, slow and deliberate, from the page to your face. the crimson eyes held no surprise, only a familiar, weary irritation.

“what do you want?” his voice was flat, devoid of inflection.

“just saying hello” you shrugged, shifting your bag. “and wondering what dark philosophy you’re devouring”

he closed the book with a soft thud, covering the title. “none of your business”

“everything is my business” you countered, a dimple appearing in your cheek. “eventually” he sighed, a low, frustrated sound that barely escaped his lips.

he rose, the book now tucked under his arm, and started to walk away without saying anything. “leaving so soon?” you called after him, a grin playing on your lips.

“just when i was getting comfortable!”

he didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge you. but you noticed his pace hadn’t quickened. he walked at the same measured stride, disappearing around the corner of the building.

you watched him go, the smile lingering. he didn’t tell you to go away, progress.

the rhythm of your encounters began to establish itself, a strange, unspoken dance. you’d spot him, you’d approach, and he’d tell you to leave. and you wouldn’t.

one evening you found yourself outside his dorm room. you’d gotten the room number from a mutual acquaintance.

a friend of a friend who found your obsession with sukuna both baffling and amusing. you knocked, a series of light taps on heavy wood.

silence stretched, then the door creaked open. he stood there, a towel slung over his shoulder, water still glistening on his bare chest and the tips of his pink hair.

his eyes narrowed. “what do you want?” he repeated, the question now a weary refrain.

“just delivering a message” you said, holding up a small, crumpled flyer. “there’s a philosophy club meeting tonight. thought you might be interested, given your… literary tastes”

he glanced at the flyer, then at your face. a faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran through his jaw. “i’m not interested” his voice was a low growl.

“and i told you to leave me alone”

“you did” you agreed, stepping a fraction closer. “but you didn’t actually make me leave, did you?”

he stared at you, his red eyes burning with a mixture of annoyance and something else you couldn’t quite decipher.

a flicker of curiosity?

he didn’t slam the door. he didn’t push you away. he just stood there, letting the cool air from the hallway mix the warmth of his room.

“this is my dorm” he stated, as if you hadn’t noticed.

“i know” you said, your gaze sweeping past him into the dimly lit room. bookshelves lined one wall, overflowing with texts.

a desk sat beneath a window, scattered with papers. it was surprisingly neat for a college guy, and utterly devoid of personal touches. “can i come in?”

his lips thinned. “no”

you took another step, your shoulder brushing the doorway. “why not?”

he hesitated, a long moment of silence punctuated only by the distant hum of the campus. he seemed to be searching for an answer, or perhaps just for the willpower to physically remove you.

he found neither.

“because i don’t want you here” he finally said, his voice flat.

“but you’re not stopping me” you pointed out, stepping fully into the room. you turned, facing him, a small smile playing on your lips. “see? i’m in”

he watched you, his chest rising and falling with a slow, deliberate rhythm. the towel slipped a little further down his shoulder.

he didn’t move to adjust it. he just stood there, arms crossed, observing you as if you were an anomaly he couldn’t quite categorise.

“you’re infuriating” he finally conceded, the words forced out through gritted teeth.

“so i’ve been told” you beamed. “often. by many” you gestured to the bookshelf. “mind if i look?”

he simply stared. you being you, took that as permission, or at least a lack of active prohibition, and drifted towards the shelves.

your fingers traced the spines of books on ancient history, philosophy, and obscure mythology. he had surprisingly eclectic collection.

“plato?” you murmured, pulling out a thick volume. “a man of culture, i see”

he let out a sharp, exasperated breath. “just read it for a class”

“of course” you nodded, flipping through the pages. “nothing to do with genuine interest, just fulfilling a requirement. how very.. you”

you glanced at him over the top of the book. he hadn’t moved from the doorway, still watching you with that same unreadable intensity.

“you never lock the door, do you?” he didn’t answer. the silence was his reply.

“that’s why i keep showing up” you continued, lowering the book. “you say ‘go away’, but you never actually make me leave. you never lock the door. you never stop engaging”

you gestured vaguely between the two of you. “this. this is engaging”

his eyes narrow further. “it’s a waste of my time”

“is it?” you challenged, a spark of igniting in your own eyes. “because you’re still here, talking to me. you could have shut the door in my face. you could have called security. but you didn’t. you’re just.. standing there. letting me be here”

he pushed off the doorframe, finally moving, and walked past you, dropping the towel onto a chair. he pulled on a t shirt, his back to you.

the silence stretched, thick with unspoken tension. “don’t make assumptions” he clipped, his voice muffled by the fabric as he pulled it over his head.

“i’m not assuming” you corrected, watching him. “i’m observing. your words say one thing, but your actions say another. and i’m choosing to believe your actions”

he turned, fully dressed now, his expression a mask of cool indifference. “you’re delusional”

“perhaps” you conceded, a playful glint in your eye. “or perhaps i just see things others don’t” you walked towards his desk, picking up a pen.

“like how you leave your window open, even when it’s cold. or how you have exactly three plants, all of them thriving, even though you claim to hate anything that requires effort”

he snatched the pen from your hand, his fingers brushing yours. the brief contact sent a jolt through you. his expression remained impassive.

“get out” he ordered, his voice low and dangerous. you met his gaze, unflinching. “not yet”

a week later, you were in his room again. the pattern was set. he’d be there, sometimes studying, sometimes just staring out the window.

you’d knock, or sometimes, finding the door ajar, and you’d just walk in. he’d tell you to leave. you’d ignore him, or argue, or simply start talking about something entirely unrelated.

your friends though, found your persistence baffling.

“why do you even bother?” utahime asked, stirring her coffee in the campus cafe. “he’s a walking iceberg. you deserve someone who actually, you know.. wants you around”

“he tolerates me” you countered, swirling your own lukewarm tea. “that’s practically a love letter from sukuna”

“tolerates is not a good baseline for a relationship” nanami chimed in, adjusting his glasses.

“there are like, a hundred other guys on this campus who would actually be nice to you.. who would open doors, or remember your coffee order, or not tell you to go away every five minutes”

you just smiled, a private, knowing smile. “you don’t get it”

“no” utahime agreed, shaking her head. “we really don’t”

you didn’t expect them to. they saw the blunt words, the cold exterior. they didn’t see the way his eyes, sometimes, would track your movements when he thought you weren’t looking.

they didn’t hear the subtle shift in his tone when he was truly exasperated versus when he was merely performing his usual ‘go away’ routine.

they didn’t notice that he never actually followed through. he never called security. he never physically removed you. he just… complained.

and you, in your stubbornness, saw that as an invitation.

one rainy evening, you found sukuna hunched over his desk, a stack of engineering textbooks threatening to topple.

the room was dimly lit by a single desk lamp, casting long shadows. you knocked softly, but he didn't stir so you let yourself in.

“stuck on something?” you inquired, pulling up a chair opposite him.

he slammed his hand on the desk, startling you. “what do you want?” his voice sharp, and frayed.

“just checking in” you said, unfazed. “you look like you’re about to spontaneously combust”

he rubbed his temples, his eyes closed. “i have a mid term tomorrow. i don’t have time for this”

“then why aren’t you making me leave?” you pointed out gently. “you’re just sitting there, letting me distract you”

he opened his eyes, red flecks catching the lamplight. he stared at you, his breathing heavy. “because it’s less effort to just let you talk until you get bored and leave”

“is that what you think?” you asked, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “that i’ll get bored?”

he didn’t answer. he just leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease a fraction.

you watched him, a quiet understanding passing between you. “what’s the problem?” you asked, gesturing to the textbook.

he hesitated, then gestured vaguely at a complex diagram. “the stress calculation for the load bearing beam. the variables aren’t aligning”

you leaned closer, peering at the page. you weren’t an engineering major, but you were quick witted. “did you account for the material fatigue coefficient?”

he paused, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the diagram again. he picked up his pen, making a quick calculation on a scrap of paper.

a moment later, his expression shifted, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

“it’s negligible at this scale” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“but not zero” you countered. “sometimes, the smallest details are the ones that throw everything off” he looked at you then, a long, searching gaze.

the usual irritation was still there, but beneath it, something else stirred. something akin to grudging respect.

“you’re still here” he stated, a simple observation.

“i know” you said, a genuine smile gracing your lips. “and you didn’t tell me to go away for a whole ten minutes. that’s a new record”

he didn’t smile. he just returned to his calculations, but this time, the tension had eased. you stayed, quietly observing him, the only sound the scratching of his pen and the rhythmic drumming of rain against the windowpane.

he never asked you to leave again that night.

you just.. were there.

the dynamic shifted subtly after that. the arguments became less frequent, the silences less strained. he still told you to leave, but the words carried less conviction, more of a rote delivery.

you’d find yourself spending hours in his room, sometimes in comfortable silence, sometimes debating obscure topics, sometimes just observing him as he worked.

sukuna never invited you, never acknowledged your presence as anything other than an inconvenience, yet he never truly shut you out

the door remained unlocked. his attention, however begrudging, remained yours.

one crisp autumn evening, you sat on his window seat, watching the leaves swirl outside. sukuna was on his bed, scrolling through something on his laptop.

the room was bathed in the soft glow of the desk lamp. “my friends think i’m crazy” you announced breaking the comfortable quiet.

he didn’t look up. “they’re probably right”

“they think i’m wasting my time” you continued, ignoring his barb. “that i should find someone.. easier”

he finally looked at you, his crimson eyes piercing. “and why don’t you?” you met his gaze, a challenge in your own.

“because ‘easier’ isn’t always ‘better’”

he closed his laptop with a snap, the sound echoing in the small. he swung his legs off the bed, facing you.

“what exactly do you want from this?” he asked, his voice low, devoid of its usual sharp edge. it was a genuine question, stripped bare of pretence.

you hesitated, the air suddenly thick with unspoken feelings. this was new. this was different. he wasn’t telling you to leave. he was asking for an explanation

“i want to understand you” you finally admitted, your voice softer than you intended. “and i want you to stop pretending you don’t want me around”

a muscle in his jaw flexed. he stood up, walking towards the window, his back to you. the silence stretched, heavy with anticipation.

“i don’t pretend anything” he finally stated, his voice tight. “i tell you to leave. every time”

“and i don’t” you countered, rising to your feet. you walked toward him, stopping a few feet away.

“and you never actually do anything to make me go. you leave your door unlocked.. you let me sit here. you engage, even when you say you don’t want to. your words are a performance, sukuna, i see through it”

he turned then, his eyes blazing. “you think you know me?”

“i think i know enough” you said, stepping closer, your hand reaching out, then hesitating. hovering between you.

“i know you push people away. i know you thrive on control. i know you’re afraid of anything that feels too close”

his gaze dropped to your outstretched hand, then back to your face. his breathing was shallow. “you’re wrong” he murmured, but the conviction was gone from his voice.

“am i?” you pressed, taking another step. your hand still hovering, now brushed his arm, a light, tentative touch. he didn’t flinch. he didn’t pull away.

“because every time you tell me to leave, and i don’t, you don’t actually hate it, do you? yeah you might be annoyed, you might be frustrated, but there’s a part of you that’s… relieved. that someone isn’t listening for once”

he closed his eyes for a brief moment, a fleeting vulnerability. when he opened them, the crimson depth were troubled.

“you’re relentless” he said, the words barely a whisper.

“is that a compliment?” you asked, your thumb tracing a small circle on his forearm. he let out a shaky breath. “it’s an observation”

the space between you crackled with an electricity that had been building for months. all the unspoken words, all the denied feelings, surged to the surface.

“so” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

this was it. the breaking point. the question that determines everything. you pulled your hand away, forcing yourself to meet his gaze directly.

“do you actually want me gone? really… tell me. and this time, if you say yes, i’ll leave and i won’t come back.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and absolute. the playful defiance was gone. the challenge had become earnest. his expression shifted, a whirlwind of something emotions passing across his face.

irritation, fear, something akin to longing. he searched your eyes, as if looking for a trick, a loophole. there was none, your resolve was clear.

his silence stretched, growing longer and longer, until the only sound was the frantic beating of your own heart.

the autumn wind rattled the windowpane, a mournful sigh. you held your breath, waiting for verdict.

he took a step back, then another, putting a small distance between you. his eyes, usually so unreadable, now held a raw vulnerability you’d never seen.

“i…” he started, his voice rough, then trailed off. he ran a hand through his hair, turning away from you, facing the wall. his shoulders were hunched, a rare display of uncertainty.

you waited. you had promised to leave if he said yes. and you would, but you needed him to say it. truly say it.

he remained silent, his back to you, for what felt like eternity. the air grew colder, the tension almost unbearable.

you felt a pang of something akin to despair, a quiet resignation. he couldn’t do it. he couldn’t admit he wanted you to stay, but he couldn’t bring himself to truly tell you to leave either.

the contradiction, the denial, had become too deeply ingrained.

finally, he turned. his face was a mask once more, but his eyes.. his eyes held a flicker of something new. a quiet acknowledgment.

“no” he breathed, the singe word barely audible. his gaze swept over your face, lingering on your lips, then your eyes. “i don’t want you gone”

the world seemed to tilt back into place. a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding escaped in a rush.

the tension, which had coiled so tightly, began to unravel, replaced by a profound, almost overwhelming relief.

you took a tentative step towards him. “what did you say?”

he met your gaze, his eyes now holding a different kind of intensity. “i said i don’t want you gone” he reached out, his hand slowly deliberately, cupping your cheek.

his thumb brushed your skin, a feather light touch that sent shivers down your spine. “you’re here. stay”

the contradiction hadn’t vanished entirely, not yet.

the words were still hard-won, extracted with effort. but for the first time, his actions and his words aligned.

and in that quiet, vulnerable admission, you saw not the end of a cycle, but the fragile, uncertain beginning of something entirely new. you leaned into his touch, a soft, genuine smile finally breaking through.

the room, once a battleground of wills, now felt like a sanctuary.

a/n .✦ ݁˖ i love sukuna so much ughhh! i need him in my veins. anywho see yall next time 🪐.

art by ada

that one fateful summer

mom!reader x toji, sukuna, and gojo

content: MDNI, explicit language, angst, drinking, smut (p in v), breakups, one night stands

wc: 3.5k

a/n: i would've caved for the three of them too tbh

mamma mia masterlist

Sukuna x Reader

༻❁༺༻❁༺༻❁༺༻❁༺༻❁༺༻❁༺༻❁༺

Two faces, One bad boy

The night air was heavy with the faint smell of rain, the city humming in the background like a restless beast. Y/N sat hunched at the corner table of a quiet bar, her crimson-painted nails dragging through her long hair as if combing away the day’s frustration. Her head throbbed from exam stress, and the weight of her parents’ expectations clung to her chest like chains she couldn’t break.

She hated this—being perfect by day, pretending to be soft, polite, the girl everyone adored. But under the veil of midnight, the real her could breathe. Here, in this dimly lit place where no one asked questions, she could be raw. Flawed. Herself.

“Rough day?”

The voice was soft but familiar. Noritoshi or as she always called him, Toshi.

He sat across from her, leaning on one elbow, his eyes sharper than they needed to be. He wasn’t looking at her like a friend tonight; his gaze lingered—slow, careful, almost reverent—like she was something he couldn’t touch but wanted to. Toshi had always been like this. Quietly watching. Quietly wanting.

She sighed, resting her cheek in her hand, her fingers tapping against her temple.

“You know when life decides to throw everything at you? Yeah, that’s me right now.”

“You’re gonna burn yourself out.”

Toshi murmured, almost too softly to hear over the low hum of the jukebox. His fingers traced circles on the rim of his beer glass, but his eyes never left her.

She caught him looking, and smirked despite the ache in her head.

“Don’t look at me like that, Toshi. I told you a million times, you’re my best friend. Don’t ruin that with… whatever that look is.”

He chuckled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah. I know. You make that clear every time I forget my place.”

Her chest tightened—she hated when he said things like that, like his feelings were a burden. She wanted to tell him she cared, just not in the way he wanted. But instead, she picked up her glass, the ice clinking as she took a slow sip.

The rain hammered down outside, a relentless storm drumming against the bar’s old wooden walls. The warm yellow light inside felt like a fragile bubble of peace—one that Toshi knew wouldn’t last.

He stiffened suddenly, his sharp gaze darting to the door.

“Shit…”

He muttered under his breath.

Your head, still leaning in your palm, tilted lazily.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just… brace yourself.”

He said, his jaw tightening as he set his beer down a little too hard.

You frowned, but before you could press him, the heavy bar door swung open. A gust of wet, cold air rushed in, along with the sound of loud, coarse laughter and the unmistakable energy of people who lived on the edge of violence.

The group stormed in like they owned the place. Their voices were rowdy, talking about how they’d been kicked out of a club for teaching some punks a lesson. One of them still had blood on his knuckles, another with his shirt untucked like he’d just been in a brawl.

At the center of it all was him. Sukuna.

His presence hit the room like a punch. Black markings curled along his skin, peeking from under the collar of his open black jacket, tattoos spiraling like serpents up his neck. His hair was messy from the rain, a cigarette dangling from his lips as his crimson gaze swept over the bar with cold amusement. He didn’t need to speak for everyone to know he was the one in charge.

“Oi, old man.”

Sukuna called to the bartender with a lazy grin, his voice deep and rough, like gravel and smoke.

“Line up the good stuff. We’re staying for a while.”

The bartender nodded quickly—clearly, this was nothing new. These guys were regulars. Dangerous ones.

Toshi’s jaw clenched harder. He knew better than to start trouble with Sukuna Ryomen—the name itself was a whispered warning in the underworld. He leaned across the table slightly, his voice low.

“Just ignore them, alright? Don’t make eye contact.”

But you could feel the noise grating against your already frayed nerves. The rain outside was getting heavier, and the sound of their obnoxious laughter only made your headache pound worse. You tried—God, you tried—to keep calm, fiddling with your cigarette and talking about random nonsense with Toshi to distract yourself.

Then, as if the night hadn’t already been shitty enough, they came over.

Sukuna’s group approached your table, their heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor. There was no asking, no politeness—they just loomed, radiating that predatory aura that told everyone else to move.

“This is our table.”

One of Sukuna’s men said with a sneer, nodding at your drinks as if you were already dismissed.

You blinked, staring at them.

“Uh, there are literally five empty tables over there. Pick one.”

The guy stared at you like you’d just grown horns. The whole group fell silent for a second.

Toshi’s stomach dropped. He knew you didn’t recognize them, but he did. And of all people to mouth off to, Sukuna was the last one.

“Hey...”

He said quickly, forcing a smile.

“It’s fine. We’ll move—”

“No, we won’t.”

You cut him off, your voice sharp.

“What? just because you’re a big group you think you can just walk in here and take whatever you want? That’s not how it works.”

The men exchanged looks, their faces twisting into disbelief and then irritation. Someone let out a low chuckle that wasn’t friendly.

“Oh, she’s got balls.”

One of them muttered. But then Sukuna stepped forward.

He hadn’t said a word this whole time, just watched the exchange with those sharp crimson eyes. He leaned casually on the back of a chair, his smirk curling like he was entertained.

“Cute.”

Sukuna said, his voice low and dangerous, but laced with amusement.

“Most people piss themselves when we walk in. You? You’re telling us to find another table?”

You met his stare—that stare. That could cut glass and didn’t flinch.

“Yeah. So what? You want me to move because you’re loud and scary? Try harder.”

The room went still. Even the bartender froze mid-wipe, his eyes flicking nervously between you and the man who ran half the city’s underground.

Sukuna’s smirk deepened. He straightened, tilting his head slightly as he looked you over.

“What’s your name, princess?”

You crossed your arms, glaring.

“Why? Planning to put me on some blacklist?”

“No.”

Sukuna chuckled darkly.

“I just like knowing the name of someone with a death wish.”

Sukuna tilted his head slightly, his crimson eyes gleaming with interest as he studied you.

Most people would’ve backed down by now. Most people knew better.

But you?

You stared him down like he was just some loud guy at a bar, not the kind of man whose name could silence entire rooms.

“Careful princess”

Sukuna murmured, his grin widening, sharp and dangerous.

“Bravery looks good on you, but it’ll get you killed.”

“I don’t scare easy.”

You shot back, voice steady, even though Toshi was practically vibrating with tension beside you.

“Is that so?”

Sukuna leaned forward slightly, resting a tattooed hand on your table. His men chuckled lowly behind him, like they were waiting for the moment you’d fold.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this, anyway? You don’t look like you belong in the dirt with the rest of us.”

“Maybe I just don’t like being told where I belong. ”

You said, lifting your chin.

The smile that curved his lips was slow and full of mischief.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, huh?”

His voice dropped lower, like the rumble of distant thunder.

“Careful how you use it.”

Toshi cleared his throat, trying to break the tension.

“We’ll find another spot. Let’s just go, okay?”

He gave you a pointed look, the one that begged you not to make this worse.

You looked at him, then at Sukuna, your jaw tightening. But when one of Sukuna’s men stepped forward and dragged a chair from your table with a loud scrape, that was it—you’d had enough.

“Fine.”

You snapped, pushing yourself up from your seat.

“Enjoy your precious table.”

But you weren’t going to leave quietly.

As you stepped past Sukuna, you deliberately bumped your elbow against his, your glare locked on his crimson eyes. It wasn’t an accident. It was a challenge.

The entire group froze.

Toshi’s stomach dropped to his knees. He couldn’t believe what you’d just done—no one touched Sukuna like that. He was certain this was the moment everything would go to hell.

“Let’s go.”

You muttered to Toshi, not even looking back.

Toshi scrambled after you like a nervous puppy, glancing behind to see if the group was going to follow. His heart pounded in his chest—but strangely, they didn’t move. They just…watched.

“Feisty little thing, isn’t she?”

Sukuna’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.

You froze for half a second at the door but didn’t turn around.

“She’s got more balls than half of you idiots.”

He said to his men, his tone both amused and mocking. His eyes stayed on you, a lazy grin pulling at his lips.

“Hey, princess.”

Slowly, you turned, arching a brow.

Sukuna leaned back in his chair, resting his arm along the backrest with infuriating confidence.

“You’ve got guts. Pretty stupid guts, but still. I’ll give you that.”

“Not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult,” you said sharply.

“Both.”

He replied smoothly, the glint in his crimson eyes almost predatory. Then his grin turned sharper.

“Careful out there, sweetheart. Not everyone’s gonna find that mouth of yours so charming. Next time, someone else might shut it for you.”

The warning was clear, but so was the interest. Sukuna wasn’t angry—if anything, he looked entertained, like you’d just given him a toy he could play with.

☁️ 🌞 ☁️

The sun was warm, glinting off colorful banners that swayed lazily in the afternoon breeze. The park was alive with music, laughter, and chatter—college students in neatly pressed uniforms were scattered around booths, each department proudly showing off their best work.

Y/N stood at the center of it all like she was born for it. The head of her department. Organized, poised, her hair tied up neatly to complement her polished look. To everyone else, she looked like the model student: calm, feminine, and effortlessly capable.

“Alright, we’ll run the showcase again at 3 p.m.”

You instructed, your voice firm but warm as you spoke to your team.

“Make sure the flyers are restocked. We don’t want anyone leaving here without knowing about our program.”

Your classmates admired you. You were the one who got things done, the one who could smile while managing ten people at once. The perfect student. The golden girl.

But deep down, you were exhausted.

After checking on your own department, you made your way over to Toshi’s booth. His department’s display was flashier, louder—typical of him. He caught your eye and smirked, leaning lazily against the booth’s frame.

“Department Leader herself, huh?”

He teased.

“Here to bless us with your presence?”

“Shut up and show me your event.”

You said rolling your eyes but grinning anyway. For a few moments, it felt good to just be around someone who knew you—both sides of you.

You did a few activities at his booth, laughing when he exaggerated how terrible you were at one of the games. Then you left with your university friends, wandering the park to check out the other departments. It was a good day, even if your body was aching from standing all morning.

By mid-afternoon, the crowd had thickened. Students from other universities poured in, their voices mixing with the hum of festival music. You sat with your friends on a low bench, stretching your sore legs while sipping on a cold drink.

“Hey, after this, we should all go get dinner together”

One of your friends suggested.

“You deserve a break. You’ve been working non-stop since sunrise.”

“Yeah, our little department queen.”

Another teased.

You laughed softly, brushing stray hair out of your face. For a moment, you let yourself relax.

And then—you heard it.

A voice. Deep, low, and so casually commanding that your stomach dropped.

You didn’t even realize you’d stopped listening to your friends. Your head turned automatically toward the park gates, and your heart skipped a beat.

There they were.

The group of guys from the bar. Loud, confident, their presence cutting through the wholesome atmosphere of the festival like a blade. And at the center of it, with his unmistakable tattoos and crimson eyes—Sukuna.

Your breath hitched.

Of all days, of all places, he had to show up here?

Your fingers tightened around your drink as you tried to focus on what your friends were saying, but their voices blurred into meaningless static. All you could hear was the sound of Sukuna’s laughter, low and amused as he scanned the festival like he was bored but willing to be entertained.

This was bad.

You weren’t the girl from last night anymore—the one with messy hair and a cigarette between her fingers. Here, you were the perfect daughter, the model officer. And Sukuna? He was the one person who had seen the cracks in your mask.

Panic clawed at your chest. You shot up from your seat so fast your friends blinked at you in confusion.

“Uh… where are you going?”

One of them asked.

You didn’t even answer—you were already moving, your eyes scanning the crowd for Toshi. If there was anyone who’d know how to handle this, it was him.

Behind you, your friends exchanged glances, whispering.

“Did something happen?”

“She looked like she saw a ghost…”

But you weren’t listening. Your sandals slapped against the paved path of the park as you darted between booths, your heart hammering in your chest like a trapped animal. Where the hell is Toshi? You needed him—now.

Then you spotted him.

Of course, he wasn’t doing anything helpful. He was leaning casually against the cheerleading booth, flashing his lazy grin at two girls in short skirts. They were giggling, twirling their hair, practically eating up his fake charm.

“Seriously?”

You hissed, stomping up to him.

“Hey, hey, Y/N.”

Toshi said with a cocky smirk.

“Give me two minutes. I’m about to make history here. These girls—”

You grabbed his arm without a word and dragged him away, cutting off whatever nonsense he was about to say.

“Yo! What the hell, Y/N?!”

he sputtered, stumbling after you while the cheerleaders looked on, giggling.

“That was my chance to not die single!”

“The guys from the bar—they’re here.”

you snapped. The smirk fell from his face in an instant.

“Wait. What?!”

His eyes darted around wildly, panic creeping into his voice.

“You mean—them? Sukuna?”

“Yes. Him. All of them.”

You whispered harshly.

Toshi’s face went pale.

“We’re dead. We’re so dead. I told you not to sass them, but nooo, you had to—”

Before he could spiral any further, you slapped his arm hard.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?!”

“How do you think I feel?! He saw me at my worst—looking like a street rat and now I’m supposed to pretend I’m this perfect student leader? If he recognizes me, I’m screwed!”

You leaned against the wall, taking a shaky breath. You had to think. Toshi pouting as he rubbed his arm mumbling.

“Street rat? If anything you looked really cute that night...you were just too sassy”

“Okay. Here’s the plan. We stay low. We don’t go near them. We just…hide until they get bored and leave. No fights, no drama. Got it?”

Toshi’s hands were on his hips, still rattled but nodding

“Fine. But if he so much as looks at me, I’m out.”

You shot him a glare.

“Coward.”

“Survivor. ”

He corrected under his breath.

The two of you stuck together after that, weaving through the festival crowd like fugitives. You stayed on opposite sides of the park from Sukuna’s group, watching from a distance as they moved between booths. It was unnerving—the way people parted for them, sensing they didn’t belong. Predators among sheeps.

Every time Sukuna glanced around lazily, your stomach tightened, praying his gaze wouldn’t land on you.

But as the sun dipped lower, signaling the festival’s end, your luck ran out.

“Can all department leaders please come to the stage?”

A voice announced over the speakers but you were too occupied to hear it. A group of excited freshmen from your department soon spotted you in the crowd and came running to you.

“Y/N! We got you, let's go! "

They grabbed your arm and dragged you toward the stage while Toshi shot you a panicked look.

“We’re doomed.”

You stood on stage with the other department heads, smiling stiffly as the teachers gave speeches. The crowd cheered politely. You bowed slightly when your name was called but then your eyes caught on a familiar figure at the back of the crowd.

A group that was leaning casually on each other, standing out like wolves in a field of lambs. And Sukuna…Sukuna was looking right at you.

His gaze locked on yours, sharp and unrelenting. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.

You swallowed hard, your palms going clammy.

“And a big round of applause for our Artist Department leader, Nitori Y/N!”

The announcer said into the mic.

The crowd erupted into cheers.

But all you could focus on was Sukuna’s smile widening—dark, amused, sinister. He leaned over to one of his guys and murmured something, his eyes never leaving you.

The festival wound down as dusk fell, the golden light casting long shadows across the park. Your department was busy packing up, but you stayed behind, managing the last-minute tasks with that same perfect smile plastered on your face—even though your heart hadn’t stopped pounding since you spotted Sukuna.

“Y/N,”

Toshi hissed under his breath, standing beside you as you gathered leftover flyers.

“He’s still here. He’s looking at us.”

“Don’t look,”

You muttered, trying to keep your voice even as you turned to the next task.

“Maybe he’ll leave if we ignore him.”

But of course, Sukuna never did what people wanted.

“Princess,”

Came that low, amused voice behind you.

You froze, every muscle in your body tensing. Turning slowly, you found Sukuna standing a few feet away, towering over you with that same predatory grin. His tattoos looked darker under the warm lights, his crimson eyes glinting with sharp interest. One of his guys was snickering behind him, like they already knew this would be fun.

“Looks like you clean up nice.”

Sukuna said smoothly, taking a step closer.

“I barely recognized you. What happened to the loudmouth from the bar?”

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You replied with a forced, polite smile.

“You must be confusing me with someone else.”

Behind you, Toshi was already half-bowing, trembling like a leaf.

“W-We’re sorry for the misunderstanding! We’ll

just—”

“Stand up straight, idiot.”

You hissed at him out of the corner of your mouth, still smiling awkwardly at Sukuna.

Before Sukuna could press further, two of the freshmen girls from your department came bouncing over, all smiles and energy.

“Y/N! You were amazing up there! Head of the department—ugh, we’re so proud!”

One of them gushed. Then their eyes landed on Sukuna.

“Oh...my...goodness”

One of them whispered.

“Who are they? Their so…hot.”

“Do you know him, Y/N?”

Another asked, giggling as they all started cooing like a flock of excited birds.

Your heart skipped.

“W-what? No! I don’t know him.”

You said quickly, trying to wave them off.

But Sukuna wasn’t about to let you off that easily.

“You don’t know me?”

He said with mock offense, tilting his head.

“Funny. I could’ve sworn we’ve met before. What was it… oh, yeah. The bar.”

The girls gasped.

“You went to a bar, Y/N?”

One whispered, like it was the juiciest gossip of the year.

Your stomach dropped. This was bad. You had to fix this before your perfect reputation shattered.

With a bright, fake laugh, you stepped closer to Sukuna.

“Ahahaha—oh, yes! The bar. Right! It’s, um… a library bar. You know, one of those trendy café places with books and lattes? That’s where we met. Total coincidence.”

You shoved one of Sukuna’s guys gently when he tried to say something, and then—acting on pure desperation—you shoved Sukuna’s shoulder, eyes pleading for him to just play along.

For a moment, he looked confused. But then he saw that flash of desperation in your eyes, and something shifted. A slow, sinister grin spread across his face like he’d just been given a new game to play.

“Oh, yeah.”

Sukuna drawled.

“The library café.”

His tone was teasing, dripping with sarcasm.

“Man, you were really eyeing me there, princess. Practically undressing me with your eyes.”

Your jaw dropped.

“W-what?! That’s not—!”

“She approached me.”

Sukuna continued smoothly, his hand suddenly sliding around your waist, pulling you close. His palm was warm against your hip, his grip possessive.

“Couldn’t keep her hands off me. What was it you said? Something about me looking…hot while reading?”

The girls gasped again, whispering to each other.

“Oh my god, Y/N!”

“Wait, are you two—?!”

You could feel your face burn.

“Absolutely not! That’s not what happened!”

You snapped.

“I just thought he…looked like he couldn’t read! So I offered to help, okay?!”

Sukuna chuckled, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement.

“Can’t read, huh? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“It’s true!”

You said, shoving his hand off your waist—but it didn’t budge.

“You looked… dumb and confused! That’s all!”

“Mm. Sexy and confused, you mean?”

He said, leaning down close enough for you to catch the scent of smoke and rain on his jacket.

You scowled, your voice rising.

“No! Dumb. Dumb as a brick.”

His grin only widened, like every insult from you was a compliment.

“Careful, princess. Keep talking like that, and I might think you’re flirting with me.”

Toshi’s face was already twisted into something sour and pouty. His eyes were burning holes into Sukuna’s hand, which still casually rested against your waist like it belonged there.

But you? You were frozen in place. Not because you were letting him do it, but because you couldn't remove it. Every time you tried to step away, Sukuna would just pull you back—effortless, like it was some sort of game.

A game you were clearly losing.

“Wow.”

Toshi muttered under his breath, voice tight.

“So he can touch you like that, but I can't even look at you for more than five seconds without you smacking me?”

You glared at him.

“It’s not like that.”

Toshi rolled his eyes and looked away, sulking like a kicked puppy. But even then, you caught the way he stared at you—not with anger, but with that familiar longing, that wounded admiration that made your chest feel tight.

And just when things couldn’t get any worse—

“Y/N!!!”

You turned and saw your two university friends—the ones you ditched earlier—rushing toward your group, looking both breathless and delighted.

“There you are!”

One of them said.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

The other’s eyes landed on Sukuna’s crew and immediately widened.

“Uhm…hello. Who are they?”

Toshi groaned.

“Great.”

The girls wasted no time. Two of them instantly gravitated toward Sukuna’s guys, falling into flirty banter like they were born for it. One of them—the richer, always-generous one—clapped her hands together and said

“You know what? Let’s all go to dinner! My treat. Barbecue on me!”

“Free food?”

One of the guys grinned.

“Say less.”

The rest of them cheered in agreement, but still looked toward Sukuna—clearly, no one made a move unless he said so.

He smirked, eyes sliding lazily to you.

“What do you think, princess?”

He asked, his voice low and teasing.

“You cool with keeping up our little library bar story a while longer?”

You scowled.

“Absolutely not—”

He leaned in, lips barely moving.

“Then maybe I should tell your sweet little friends where I really saw you that night. What was it again… black crop top, cigarette, calling my guy a dumbass?”

You stiffened.

“…Fine.”

You gritted your teeth.

“But you better behave.”

Toshi looked between the two of you suspiciously, already sensing the shift.

“I’m coming too.”

He said quickly.

“Someone needs to keep an eye on you.”

Sukuna smirked.

“Look at you finding some balls to join us.”

The barbecue place was cozy, warm light glowing against wooden walls, the scent of grilled meat filling the air. You had *no idea* how you ended up squeezed between the two most dangerous men in your life:

Sukuna on your left. Toshi on your right. This was hell.

Your two girl friends were gushing over the guys across the table, smiling and ordering big amounts of meat, clearly having the time of their lives.

Meanwhile, you were just trying not to scream.

You reached for your favorite side dish—only for Toshi to casually slide it toward you first. Without a word. Like he always did.

He passed you your go-to dipping sauce. Next, napkin. Then, water. He even peeled a shrimp for you. You didn’t say anything nor to feel the need to utter a word about his actions since his been treating you like this for years now. It was like a normal thing for the both of you.

But it wasn't for Sukuna. His crimson eyes lazily shifted to Toshi. Then to you. Then back to Toshi.

He smirked. A dark, cruel smirk. Because he saw it all. The bond. The care. The love. The weakness. Oh, he couldn't wait to ruin this.

“You guys wanna play something while we eat?”

One of the guys asked.

“Let’s do something spicy. Drinking game. Truth or drink?”

Your friends instantly agreed. You tried to politely opt out, but they groaned.

“Y/N never drinks with us, tonight is the perfect time!”

You hesitated. You hated drinking—because once you did, the real you came out. The loudmouth bar version of you. And with Sukuna watching? It was a disaster waiting to happen.

But you were trapped.

The game started. The questions were light at first.

Then came the teasing jabs.

One of Sukuna’s guys leaned in with a smirk.

“Y/N…have you ever been to a bar?”

You froze. Toshi immediately grabbed your glass and downed it for you.

“Next.”

He said and the table howled with laughter. Another question.

Have you ever called someone a dumbass at a bar?

The question made Sukuna laugh. Another drink passed to Toshi. Another save. But it came to a pint where Toshi was blushing looking a little dizzy, slumping closer to the table.

Your face was red too from embarrassment and guilt. You tried to reach for the drink this time, wanting to take one for him but your hands were trembling.

Then you felt it.

A breath. Warm. Right against your ear.

Sukuna had leaned in, close enough to feel his lips brush your skin as he whispered.

“Come on, princess. Give in.”

You flinched.

His voice was like smoke—taunting, amused, and low enough that no one else heard.

“Let me see her again. That girl I met at the bar.”

He leaned in closer.

“The one with fire in her eyes…and no filter on her mouth.”

You swallowed hard, fists tightening under the table.

Because the scariest thing wasn’t that he wanted to see that side of her but was that she was clawing her way to the surface.

The game dragged on, round after round. Every question that even remotely hinted at the bar made your chest tighten. And every time you tried to pass, Sukuna—with that devilish grin plastered on his face would slide the glass toward you.

“Drink up, princess.”

He’d murmur, watching every sip you took with predatory satisfaction.

“Why are you so quiet now?”

One of his guys teased, noticing how your cheeks were pink.

“She’s shy.”

Sukuna answered for you, his voice dripping with mockery as he leaned close, his breath brushing your ear.

“But I know better, don’t I?”

You glared at him through half-lidded eyes, your mind fuzzy.

“Shut. Up.”

Sukuna smirked.

“Make me.”

That was it. Your mind was swirling with alcohol, heat, and Sukuna’s constant teasing. You wanted him to just stop talking. To just—shut up.

So without thinking, you turned in your seat. And with one swift motion, you grabbed Sukuna’s jaw, fingers brushing against the tattoos on his face—And you kissed him.

The table exploded.

“WHOOO!!”

“Holy shiiiiiit!”

“Y/N!!!”

But you didn’t care. Not for a second. Because Sukuna’s lips were warm and rough under yours, and for the first time since the bar, he shut up.

Sukuna froze for a heartbeat, surprised by your boldness. Then he groaned low in his throat deep, hungry and kissed you back.

Not gentle. Not sweet. But with a kind of raw, feral hunger that made your stomach flip.

His hand moved to your waist, gripping you like he was seconds from pulling you onto his lap.

The taste of smoke and whiskey lingered on his lips. You felt his tongue teasing against yours, his body pressing closer. The entire table was going wild, half of them drunk enough to bang their fists and cheer like it was a damn prize fight.

But just as Sukuna leaned in, ready to deepen the kiss, you stopped. Pulling back, you stared into his crimson eyes—dazed but defiant.

Your lips hovered centimeters from his, your breath hot against his mouth.

“Behave.”

You whispered, your voice husky, dangerous.

For a second, Sukuna’s grin faltered, replaced by a glint of something darker—something that looked a lot like want.

And then, before he could say a word, you pushed him back into his seat. Your hand lingered on his chest for a beat, steady but firm.

Sukuna just sat there, silent, staring at you. Then a slow, wicked grin curled his lips, his tongue flicking across his teeth like he was savoring your taste.

The table was still cheering, most are too drunk to even process what happened. Meanwhile, Toshi looked was already out when it happened.

༻❁༺༻❁༺༻❁༺༻❁༺༻❁༺༻❁༺༻❁༺