This Is So Great, Im Gonna Crii 🥹😭😭😭😭 I Miss Him Sm 🤧🤧🤧

He's my princess ❤️❤️

She's happy because she's at boob height

🫶🏻

“…𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵”

my love 🫶🏻

Silent Love: Ch. 6 - "Forgiveness"

⊹ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ Chapter Four

Previous Chapter: "Good Guy."

Chapter One: New Roommate(s)

Master-List: Here!

.・゜゜・ ｡･ﾟﾟ･ ╰┈➤ Sukuna x Reader

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Sypnosis:

When moving out of your dorm and leaving your eccentric roommate goes to shit, you're offered by one of her friends to move in with him... for free! That is, if you don't mind living with two completely opposite college boys.

However, life isn't that easy, and there's a hot asshole around the corner to piss you off. Especially when he's always up late at night when you're studying, purposely trying to get on your nerves in the most perverse way possible.

You hate him.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Genre:

College/Modern World AU. Multiple parts.

Shameless Smut, Thin Walls, Mildly Dubious Consent, Roommates Fluff and Crack, Slice of Life, Kinda Slow Burn, Oral Sex Vaginal Sex, Slight Age Difference, Degradation Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Enemies to Lovers, Spit Kink, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Word Count: 27,169

･ ｡ﾟ☆:  *･ November 14th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Wednesday

You keep your eyes closed, ankles crossed while sitting down on the toilet. Your fingers play with the end of your sweatshirt while Uraume kneels before you, their thumb pads softly working into the eyelid of your eyes. Softly rubbing left and right, and up and down. 

“This always helps with swelling.” Their voice is monotone, holding no emotion or form of expression. “Cooling them down is good for a short amount of time, but it can strain the eyes and be uncomfortable. Rubbing them gently removes the fluids that have built up.” 

Uraume is completely different from when you first met them. They’re more collected, calm, emotionless, and put together. They haven’t so much as smiled yet, nor do they even sound human. They’re also wearing something more formal, a white button up shirt, and some nice black pants. You feel like a child next to them, messy and disorganized. 

You sheepishly nod, “I didn’t know that.” 

“You most likely haven’t cried enough to know that.” Uraume tells you, pulling their hands away from your face in exchange for a cool damp cloth. “These are things you learn with experience, much rather time.”

You tilt your head, “Have you cried enough?” 

Uraume pauses for a moment, before responding, “Not me, no.” The stand up, tossing the wet cloth in the sink and it hits the bowl with a gross splat. Then, they add, “But, someone I used to tend to, yes.” 

You nod, fluttering your eyes open, you immediately notice how much lighter your eyes feel, along with your vision being a bit better. You push yourself off the toilet seat lid, moving to the mirror and looking at yourself. 

Uraume’s standing next to you, looking at you through the mirror. “Looks good enough for the day, wouldn't you agree?” They grab their rolled up sleeves, and pull them down, making sure that the cuffs of their nice shirt rest perfectly at their wrist. 

You nod, the tips of your fingers moving to the corners of your eyes. They’re still a bit irritated, but the swelling is practically gone, along with your eyes, no longer bloodshot, more tired or high looking. “Yeah, it looks good.” You smile slightly. 

Uraume nods satisfied, “That’s good.” They sigh to themselves, closing their eyes with a bit of exhaustion, their hand pressing against their mouth, mumbling, “This is getting to become my normal again.” They open the restroom door and leave the small room. 

You follow after, blinking a few times, “Is there…?” You watch as Uraume makes way to the kitchen, opening the plastic bag they brought with them. “Uhm… are you? Is there something you’re here for?”

Uruame nods, placing the things on the table. “Of course, I’m here for Sukuna.” They place the final item, and you quickly observe they’re the ingredients for cookies. 

Cookies?

“Oh, well, I’m sorry but…” You move to the island, resting your weight on it, “Sukuna’s not here, and I have no idea when he’s coming back.” You pass them an unsure smile, “If you want, you can stay and wait, but I don’t know how long you’ll be waiting.” 

“I’m aware.” Uraume tells you, discarding the plastic bag, “He’s currently at my place, he’s going to return later today.” They pull out their phone, typing something. You can’t deny you’re jealous, especially knowing that Sukuna spent the night there. 

Wait, what? 

Now, you’re a bit confused, why would Uraume come here for Sukuna while he’s at their house? “Oh, did he tell you that?” You lean back and forth, a bit anxious at the thought of Sukuna coming home. “He hasn’t told me, or Yuuji anything.” 

“No.” Uraume tucks their phone in their pockets, “I just told him. He should be here in an hour or two.” They shrug, “However long it takes for him to get out of bed.”  

You tense, “Oh, uhm. Okay.” You twist your feet to the hall, ready to leave. “I’ll be in my room if you need anything–” 

“I do.” Uraume points at the items on the island counter, “I’m making something, it’d be nice to have an extra pair of hands.” Their finger taps expectantly on the counter, almost impatiently. They want you to stay, and you don’t want to stay. The idea of Sukuna coming home has you anxious, and avoidant, you really don’t want to see him right now. 

“Oh, uhm…” You thickly swallow, shakily pointing at Yuuji’s room, “If you want… I can go grab Yuuji?” You pass them an unsure smile, letting your hand fall to your side again. 

Uraume shakes their head, “No. Your help is good. Come on.” They point at the butter, it’s two sticks. “Put those in the fridge for me, I have a feeling they’re close to melting.” You pass them an unsure look, naturally turning to go to your room, only for Uraume to say, “I’m trying to help you feel better, you’re being a brat.” 

You blink at their abruptness, before slowly nodding, “Okay.” You grab the two slabs of butter, and move them to the fridge. “Bossy.” You whisper, shutting the fridge behind you. 

“No, not at all, just trying to help you.” Uraume says, reaching into their personal bag and pulling out a headband, “People tend to drown in their emotions if they don’t have anything to distract them.” Their hair is now out of their face, “Besides, everyone likes making cookies.” They blink at you.

You roll your eyes at that, you’re sure Sukuna doesn’t like cookies, he’s too brittle for that. You cross your arms over your chest, huffing a small bit.

“Even Sukuna.” Uraume quips mindlessly. “Although, he is picky about how they’re made. But, he’s like that with all food, it needs to be perfect, or it goes in the trash.” Despite the content matter, Uraume doesn’t sound like they’re complaining, it sounds more mindful if anything. 

You laugh a bit, “Am I really that readable?” 

“People tend to be when they’re mad.” 

“Really?” You lean on the fridge, biting the inside of your cheek, trying to find a kind way to phrase your words. “Uhm, Uraume, I appreciate the attempt to make me… uh, feel better, but I’m not interested.” You place your hands behind your back, “I’m sure Sukuna would be more than happy to help–” 

“He told me what happened.” Uraume says, reading your face, seeing the way your face burns. “He told me everything. Including what occurred at the party.” Which… they already had a faint idea of what occurred. 

“Oh.” You don’t know what to say anymore and Uraume knows that. “I’m surprised, I didn’t take him as someone to talk about such things.” It’s a slight jab at Sukuna, but it’s the least he owes you, right? 

“He doesn’t.” Uraume moves around the island, “Although, as of yesterday, he’s become much better at it.” Uraume tilts their head at you, narrowing their eyes. “Any idea to why?” You divert your eyes at that implication, shaking your head. “I’m sure you’re aware, but back when he moved out, he moved in with me, I was the friend who took him in.” 

That makes you gasp, “You’re… So, you two lived together during–” 

“Yes.” Uraume looks down, “Yesterday, I’ve never seen him so… vulnerable. It’s endearing, as his friend, but very odd to witness.” They hesitate to say, “It’s almost as if I’m reliving my youth. Dealing with Sukuna back when he was a teen and first moved in with me.” 

You feel your chest flutter, “Wait, you mean…?” You play with the end of your shirt, your face slowly heating up. “He’s also hurt by what happened?... He cares about what happened?” Uraume can sense your flattery, it’s as easy to read as a children’s book. 

Uraume turns away from you, chin resting on the palm of your hand. “I didn’t say that, but if that’s how you take it.” They reply emotionlessly, not bothering to look at you. 

You’re trying to hide a smile, but are miserably failing. Which makes you turn away from them altogether, “Can you tell me… what he said?” Your fingers are toying with each other. 

“No.” They push themselves away from the chair, moving towards the ingredients on the table. “Are you going to help me with these cookies?” They pass you an expecting look, a bit hurriedly too. 

You move after them, softly saying “I can’t cook.” You’re a bit embarrassed by that confession, even though you’ve said it close to a million times now. 

Uraume softly sighs, letting their head fall in a tilt, “I don’t think that matters, Su–” Uraume pauses for a moment, before awkwardly adding, “It’s cookies.” They grab some bowls from the cabinets, placing them on the table lightly. “You can’t mess up cookies.” 

You rub your arm, “You’d be surprised.” You open the drawers and pull out some mixing supplies, along with falling to the floor cabinets to pull out the electric mixer. You didn’t think there was one, but checked just in case, which thank god you did. 

Uraume doesn’t respond, just grabs the sticks of butter and uses a butter knife to cut them into chunks. You take this time to ask more questions, “Sukuna likes your cooking?” You tilt your head to the side, “But, needs things to be perfect?” 

Uraume nods, “Yes.” 

“How did he know your cooking was perfect?” You grab some paper towels and place them on the counter, allowing Uraume to place the blocks of butter on them. 

“He didn’t, and it wasn’t.” Uraume almost smiles to themself, recalling back to those times. “And he wouldn’t eat anything I made for quite some time. Sometimes he would starve himself, which I forced him to eat before he died in my house.” 

You laugh, and Uraume adds, “Could you imagine that? Cleaning a dead body?” They shiver, “The absolute time and mess it would be, the smell?...” They wrinkle their nose, before relaxing, “Is what I would say about anyone else, but it’s Sukuna.” 

You lean on the counter, a bit of dread filling your stomach. “You… like Sukuna?” 

“I love Sukuna, more than myself, actually.” That makes your stomach drop, twisting into something gross and unnerving. Uraume shakes their head, “Not like your type of love, mine is more… admiration, if anything.” 

“Oh?” You tilt your head to the side, “You admire Sukuna.” 

“Of course.” Uraume went through something similar to him, but was much more… crushed by the situation. Sukuna handled it far better than they did, which was admirable to Uraume. They hesitate, but add a small, “Sukuna admires you…” 

“Really?...” You turn away, cheeks burning, and heart racing. However, you don’t dwindle on it for too long, you’re quick to change the discussion. “So, how did Sukuna grow to like your cooking?” You tap your finger against the table, the action creating a small noise of which Uraume absolutely despises. 

“He had no money, nor anything to eat.” They toss some of the butter cubes into the bowel, passing you an empty one and silently ushering you to do the same. “Yet, that didn’t stop him. Like I said, he almost starved. But, I cared enough to force him to eat.” 

You nod, mimicking their actions and placing the butter in your bowl. “So, you learned how to cook for him?” You push your bowl in their direction. 

Uraume grabs some sugar, pouring some into their bowl, and pouring an equal amount into yours, “Yes. I learned exactly how to cook for Sukuna’s taste.” They sigh a bit, “It was difficult the first few tries, good food would go to waste, but I managed to get it “perfect” soon enough.” 

“How did you make it, “perfect?” Sounds a bit impossible.” 

Uraume adds brown sugar to both the bowls, eyeing the amount. “I don’t know.” Uraume passes you a whisk, mixing their batch which entitled you to do the same. “One day, after his constant comments on how to make the food, I served it to him, and he ate it.” 

You struggle a bit to mix the ingredients, before finding a rhythm that is good for you. “Hm. Sounds like Sukuna.” You smile a bit, but immediately hide it, “He’s bi-polar as hell.” 

Uraume quickly breathes out of their nose, “Sure.” They tap their whisk on the side of the bowl, their free hand spinning the container while expertly twisting their hand and mixing the batter, “Although, I have a suspicion it wasn’t the food that was…‘not perfect.’” 

“What does that mean?” You glance at both your bowls, and notice yours doesn’t look as nice as Uraume’s. You start mixing with a bit more purpose. Uraume doesn’t respond, just taps their whisk on the edge, then takes yours to do the same. 

“Does he feel bad?” You ask, watching them mix your bowl. 

Uraume pauses, before finally removing the whisk, tapping the edge of the bowl and placing the whisk to the side. “You’ll see.” They add an egg along with vanilla extract in both bowls, handing you the items again. 

You smile a bit, you know you should feel bad, Uraume is silently telling you that he is hurt over the situation, but that makes you a bit happy. Knowing that he’s in pain, just like you, maybe even crying, makes you happy. Because, it means one thing. Sukuna does care for you. 

—- 

You cringe, eyeing your burnt cookies, and Uraume’s perfect ones. You grab one of your cookies, tapping it on the pan, it’s solid. You drop the cookie, “I told you I was bad at cooking.” You pout slightly. 

“Like I said before, I don’t believe it matters.” Uraume grabs one of your cookies, breaking off a piece, and popping it into their mouth. You can hear the loud crunching, before they pause, close their eyes, reach for a paper towel, and silently spit the cookie inside the towel. 

“I’m sorry.” You say, but smile ever so slightly, you find the situation a bit amusing. “I swear, only I would be able to find a way to ruin cookies.” You pick up the remaining piece, popping it in your mouth, only to split it back out into your hand. Wow, those are horrible.

Uraume nods, tossing the paper towel out, “It’s just a matter of practice.” They sigh, looking at the two trays, “I suppose we can toss them out and say you made mine.” They put their hand to their chin in thought. 

“No! Why would we do that!” You take one of Uraume’s cookies, “You’re being ridiculous. Here, let me just–” Your heart stops when your head the garage door opens, Sukuna’s engine revving. You feel an indescribable worry shot through your body, forcing yourself to freeze. 

Uraume’s leaning on the island counter, chin resting on their palm while they’re looking at you. “Too late, it seems that Sukuna’s home already.” They’re watching you so intently, you’re a bit unnerved by it, are they…? Are they waiting to see what’s going to happen?

“Cookies?” Sukuna asks, closing the door behind him. 

You jump, turning back to look at him. Sukuna’s eyes are already on you, and unlike normal, he’s looking directly at your eyes. His hands twitch as his sides, unsure of what to do. You’re looking at his eyes too, they look familiar. They look like yours.

Sukuna raises his hand, and weakly waves. 

You mimic him, passing him a weak smile. “Hi.” 

“She made cookies for you.” Uraume cocks their head to the side, gesturing at the two trays. “She left the first batch in for two long, and insists on making a second batch for you.” They pull the headband off their head, letting their hair fall in their face. 

You blink at this, turning over your shoulder to say, “No, that’s a lie, Uraume made one batch, I made the other.” You can’t look at Sukuna, you only mumble with a flushed face, “I messed up my batch… for you.” 

Sukuna finally tears his gaze away from you, looking at the trays. “You made them for me?” He takes a few steps forward, standing in front of the two trays. He makes a face at your burnt cookies. 

You feel even more embarrassed now that he’s blatantly looking, “U-Uraume made some for you, too.” You stutter, playing with the ends of your sweatshirt. You feel Uraume standing next to you, their arm touching yours. 

“It was all her idea.” They immediately press their hand to your mouth, not allowing you to add to their statement. Going so far to shoot you a nasty glare when you turn to look at them. That’s when you feel something click into place, Uraume’s helping you right now.

Uraume is here for Sukuna. 

You can’t help but wonder, did Sukuna send Uraume to check up on you? See how you’re doing and if you’re okay? Is that why they texted him to finally come to the house? You feel so many questions flooding your mind, but your mind is stuck on the implications. 

Sukuna sent Uraume to check up on you for him. Uraume is here for Sukuna. They're here in place for Sukuna.

“Which one’s did you make?” Sukuna asks you, finally glancing over his shoulder. By this time, Uraume already pulled their hand away from you, acting as if nothing had happened. 

“Uh,” You point at the tray with the burnt cookies, “The ones that are rocks.” You move to grab them, “Here, let me just toss them out, I know no one is going to eat them.” You reach for the tray, but Sukuna grabs your wrist, shaking his head. 

Sukuna grabs one of your cookies, and pops it into his mouth. You cringe when you can hear the harsh chewing, and you instinctively reach for a paper towel, but Sukuna doesn’t give any indication of the taste. He just closes his eyes. 

He’s eating your cookie? He’s eating your burnt cookie that is sitting next to Uraume’s perfect ones. The picky Sukuna, is eating one of your fucked up cookies… and why? You softly pull away from his grasp, “You’re eating it…?” Sukuna swallows, and it makes your cringe. “You didn’t have to do–” 

“You’re cooking is…” Sukuna places his hand over his mouth, turning away from you. “You really do need to work on it.” His voice sounds shaky, uneven, and a bit mocking. “Did you even try?” Is he laughing at you?

“I can’t believe you ate that.” You’re burning up, turning away from him. “And, of course I did, I just… messed up.” You cross your arms over your chest, “And, it’s–it’s the thought that counts…” 

“Dumb girl.” Sukuna replies with a small amount of amusement. 

You look at him for a second, mumbling, “Why–Why did you eat them? They’re obviously not… perfect.” 

Sukuna raises one of his eyebrows, pinching your cheek. “You made them for me, it’d be rude not to.” He wrinkles his nose, shaking his head slightly, “Even if they’re shit.”

Uraume smiles slightly, grabbing their things. “It’s getting late, I suppose it’s time for me to leave.” They turn for the door. 

Sukuna looks at Uraume, he places his hand on the back of his neck. “Thanks.” He waves, “I’ll see you around.” 

They smile to themself, “Anything for ‘Master’ Sukuna.” Yet, right before they leave the house, they point at Sukuna, “I don’t want to see you acting weird anymore.” They point at you next, “You, learn to like better people.” 

“What?! W-What does that… mean?” Uraume passes you a knowing look, which makes you flush. You place your hands on your hips, pretending to roll your eyes as you look to the side. “Bye, Uraume. See you later.” 

Sukuna nods in agreement, “Of course, I’ll see you.” Uraume waves, finally leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. It’s silent, but not like the silence when the two of you argued, it seems more comfortable and somber. 

You’re about to say something, when your phone rings, making both of you jump. You laugh slightly, “Sorry.” You pull it from your pocket, checking the called ID. You feel a small spike of dread when you see your mom’s name, did something happen? “Wait, let me get this.” 

Sukuna just nods, instinctively grabbing for another one of your cookies, but quickly pulls his hand back. It makes you hide a giggle before answering. You place your phone on the counter, seeing her face fill your screen. You pass her a small wave. 

She waves back, “Hi.” She pulls something on the screen, and you recognize it as your driving license. “You left something, I forgot to tell you yesterday.” She looks at the card, nodding her head, “You are so cute in this.”

You let out a sigh of relief, nodding your head, “Oh, I didn’t even know.” It wasn’t like you’re actively driving, so keeping it on you at all times wasn’t entirely necessary. It was just used as a form of identification. “I’m sure I can pick it up during the holidays.” Your mom nods, and in the corner of your eye you can see Sukuna looking over your shoulder. 

Oh no.

“Who is that?” She’s trying to look over your shoulder, despite being on a call. “Oh my–is that your boyfriend? He’s so hot!” She’s signing a bit more frantically, she’s excited. “Why didn’t you tell me about it? You are so lucky, baby, I wish your father–”

“Mom!” You say, covering your face. “Can you not, he’s just my roommate.” You bring your hands down, and silently tell her, “For now, just wait.” 

If your mom could, you know she would be smiling like an idiot. She’s always been one for listening to your stupid drama or about boys, you’re sure it’s no different even in your adulthood. “I knew it, I have a sense for these things.” She nods, “You have good taste, although, he looks like an–” 

“Asshole.” You nod, “I’ll talk to you later mom. I’ll see you during break.” She nods and ends the call, prompting you to let out a relieved sigh.

Sukuna stand next to you, one of Uraume’s cookies in hand, “Mom?” 

You nod, turning your head to look at him, “Yeah.” You snatch the cookie from his hand, taking a bite and handing it back to him. 

Sukuna’s eye twitches at your actions, “Fuckin’ disgusting.” He scowls at the cookie. 

You hide a giggle, “I accidentally left my drivers license.” 

“You could’ve grabbed another fuckin’ cookie.” 

“You’re still on the cookie?!” You give him an aspirated look. 

“Just tell me what she said.” He waves you off, “I’m over the cookie now.”

You laugh abruptly, “Ar-Are you?” He rolls his eyes and nods in acknowledgement, you quickly add, “She thought you were my boyfriend.” You’re tempted to take another bite of his cookie to mess with him. 

Sukuna looks at the bitten cookie, passes it a scowl, then pops the rest into his mouth, chewing while asking you, “What’d you say to that shit?” 

You turn on your heel, walking towards your room, “You’re the worst person ever, and I’d rather date Yuuji than you.” You have a smug smile on your face, fluttering you lashes innocently at him. “What else would there be to say?” 

Sukuna scowls at you, “You’re such a fuckin’ liar.” He wants to follow after you, but keeps in his spot. “You know you love–” He stops himself from finishing his sentence, he probably shouldn’t mess with you too much right now. Especially saying something of that nature. 

You wave him off, opening your door. “You’re so full of yourself. I will never like you.” 

Sukuna half smiles, something you can’t decipher hiding behind it, but it becomes more real once he sees you smiling back at him. “Promise?” He tilts his head to the side. 

You stop at the door, leaning on the frame while looking at him, “Do you promise?” There’s a small smile on your lips, your eyes full of curiosity, but it’s tainted with a bit of pain. Like you’re looking for something in his answer. 

Sukuna pushes his hair back, giving you a boyish look, “Do you… want me to?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to stop your smile from building as you look to the side. You pass him a final smile, before silently entering your room and closing the door behind you. Sukuna cups his face, shaking his head into his hand. 

He hates that he’s smiling right now. 

･ ｡ﾟ☆:  *･ November 30th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Thursday

Yuuji picks up his controller remote, which is coincidentally pink, and clicks the icon for YouTube. “I usually do this with Fusiguro or Nobara, but they’re out of commission today.” He leans on your legs, his head falling back on your knees, “Studying or something…” 

You run your fingers through his hair, “I mean, finals are coming up, Yuuji.” You grab another butterfly hair clip, clipping it to his hair to hold his bangs back. “I’ve been starting to study, too.”

Yuuji groans, closing eyes and moaning, “I don’t want to study.” He lets his head fall to the side, which you quickly grab and pull it back on your knees, adding more hair clips. “I don’t even want to take a final, why can’t break just… come.”

“Don’t whine, Yuuji, you’re a smart boy.” You take one of your under eye patches, and place it in its designated space. “I promise you, it’ll go by so quick, you won’t even process it.” You nod, “There, that should feel refreshing for your skin.” 

Yuuji nods, propping his head back up and searching for something on the search bar. “It feels good.” He clicks something, mindlessly telling you, “We should do this more often, I like doing girly things.” 

You giggle, twisting your hair up and pulling it out of your place. “We can totally do that.” You place another pair of eye patches underneath your eyes, and tap them in place. “Although, I’m moving out after finals, so you may have to hurry.”  

Yuuji gawks at this, twisting his head so fast, you think he’s going to break it. “What?! You’re still moving out?” He sighs, shaking his head, “Is it Sukuna?” He throws a dirty look in a general area. 

You laugh, “No, it’s not Sukuna, Yuuji.” You pat his head, “Although the thought is thoroughly appreciated.” You watch as he plays the half time of a super bowl game, one featuring Shakira and Jlo. Of course. 

“Oh, are you two still mad at each other?” Yuuji leans his head back, allowing you to put some star pimple patches on some designated areas. “Or, did you two make up?” 

“Mad at each other? No.” You close the small container which you keep your pimples patches in, before looking to the side and thinking. “Me mad at him? Well.. I haven’t completely forgiven him. But, I’m not as mad anymore.” You smile a bit, thinking about Uraume, and what they did to calm a bit of tension between the two of you. “But, I feel like that doesn’t answer your question.”

Yuuji looks at you with determination, shaking his head. “Stay here. If it is Sukuna, I can kick him out.” He grabs your hands, giving you a curt nod. “Mhm!” You just laugh, hand pressing against his head to push him away from you. 

“You’re being ridiculous, Yuuji.” You tap his forehead. 

“I pay for the house, Yuuji. Please, throw me out, see what happens.” Sukuna snarkily adds from behind the two of you. “Maybe ask our old man for a job while you’re at it. Get you to stop leeching off me.” He grumbles. 

Yuuji flops back into your legs, groaning out dramatically while you giggle. “But I don’t want to work…” The super bowl music starts, and Yuuji springs out of your lap, raising in his arms as he dances in his spot. 

You laugh again, looking at Sukuna and passing him a quick shrug. 

Yuuji is already up again, the system remote in hand and singing Shakira opening half. Moving his hips, and smiling like an idiot. Still, you got to give it to him, he’s actually really good at dancing. A part of you thinks Shakira should’ve had Yuuji as one of her backup dancers. 

Yuuji looks at his brother, passing him an unsure smile, before saying your name. You snap your attention to him, “Hey, can you do all this to him, too?” He gestures to his face, “If you couldn’t tell, his skin is literally crying for help.” 

Sukuna’s eye twitches, “If you didn’t know, I actually take care of my skin.” He moves to stand over Yuuji. He crosses his arms over his shoulder, smirking to himself while adding, “Probably better than you wash your ass.” 

“Hey!” Yuuji yells, pointing an accusing finger at Sukuna, “I wash my face with a soap bar.” He narrows his eyes, “And my ass, too.” He turns back to the TV, wiggling his shoulders to the beat. 

Sukuna rolls his eyes, “We can totally tell.” 

Yuuji pauses his dancing for a moment, pointing at you. “Do a face mask on him so he has to shut up.” He turns back to the TV and dances like nothing happened, completely changing up his attitude the moment Jlo appears on the screen. 

Sukuna drops down next to you, making you bounce ever so slight from the weight distribution. He closes his eyes, leaning his head back, “Alright, let's get this shit over with.” He taps your thigh. 

You raise an eyebrow, “Wait, you actually want me to do this?” You push his hand away from you, “I thought this type of stuff would be too girly for you, or something?” Besides, you’re not too keen on touching him right now, you’re not completely healed from the argument between you two. Better than before, but not completely over it. 

You wonder if Sukuna is over it, he did seem relatively upset over what you did. Even if you have no clue what you did. He seems over it, then again, you can never know with Sukuna. Yet, a part of you wishes you do. 

“Just do the shit before I leave.” Sukuna tells you, eyes still closed and his body relaxed on the couch. If you know Sukuna well enough, you’re sure that means he wants to do this, just won’t admit it. 

You can help, but subtly smile. “Then ask politely.” You point at Yuuji’s dancing body, “Your younger brother had no problem doing that.” Yuuji didn’t ask, you forced it on him, but Sukuna doesn’t need to know that. “Aren’t you supposed to be setting an example?” 

Sukuna’s eyebrow twitches with frustration, but he remains silent. Which you think is much better then hurling more insults at you, so you take it as him asking politely. “Whatever.” You grab a pink headband, and place it on his forehead, sliding his hair behind it. You pick a few of his baby hairs and clip them with your hair clips. “You know, I saw you before all this, just mixed you up with Yuuji.” 

“Really?” Sukuna asks, not bothering to open his eyes. 

“Yeah.” You grab a moisturizer, placing it on the tips of your fingers before spreading it to the other hand and placing it on his skin. “I was with Maki when I first saw you.” You laugh to yourself,  “She said you were spoiled.” In nice terms, “Then, I met Yuuji, and complimented his hair, since it was the only thing that stood out to me.” You pull your fingers away, “Looks like Yuuji stole the only compliment I would ever give you.” 

“Oh, how absolutely kind of you.” Sukuna pauses for a moment, recalling the conversation you’re referencing. “Wait, that’s why you said I didn’t work to get here?” He huffs a small bit.

“I was hoping you forgot.” You whisper, gathering more eyepatches to place on Sukuna. 

“I have a good memory.” Sukuna tells you, finally opening his eyes to look at you, “I’m sure you know that, at least.” You don’t respond, just peel open the product and place them under his eyes. “Just so you know, I pay for my and Yuuji’s education. I work for our grandpa.” 

That surprises you a bit, “That’s kind of you.” You feel that's a common thing you tell Sukuna mindlessly. You place the final eyepatch, swiping your fingers over both to make sure they stick. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you leave for work.” You open a face mask, spreading it open to make it easier to fit over his face. 

“Yeah, you’re just really forgetful.” You glare at him, which clearly assumes him. “It’s nothin’ I need to leave the house for, purely mental work.” He smiles to himself, flicking your forehead. “Stuff your little brain wouldn’t be able to wrap around.” He mocks you.

You feel your eye twitch, you slap the face mask over his face. You laugh when he flinches, his eyes shutting from the intrusion. “Uh-huh. Yeah, my stupid girl brain wouldn't be able to wrap around your big man, alpha job.” 

Sukuna shakes his head, trying to hide his smile, “You’re so fuckin’ dumb.” 

You spread the mask over his face, “Yeah, yeah.” You tap his cheek, removing the small air bubble caught between his skin and the mask. “Okay, there.” You grab the package and check the instructions, “Says to leave on the skin for fifteen minutes.” 

Sukuna sits up, about to speak when you cut him off, “Ah, nope! It means no talking for fifteen minutes.” You tap his shoulder a few times, a cheeky smile building on your lips. “You don’t want to get wrinkles, right?” You push yourself off the couch, tapping Yuuji’s shoulder to show him your masterpiece. 

When Yuuji turns to look at Sukuna, his jaw drops, “Holy shit, I didn’t think he’d actually let you do it.” He smiles at his brother, hand holding onto each other while singing, “He’s such a cutie, maybe he’ll let you do his makeup, too.” 

“Both of you come any closer to me, and I will kill you.” Sukuna says with a scowl, pulling up his phone to scroll through it. “Especially, you, Yuuji.”

Yuuji wraps his arms around your shoulder, whispering, “Hear that, he’s got a soft spot for you.” He wiggles his shoulder, singing in your ear, “Maybe, he likes you.”

A pillow comes right between the two of you, but hits directly on Yuuji’s head, making him fall to the floor on his knees. Sukuna cockily laughing behind him, “That’s what you get for whisperin’ like little fuckin’ girlies.” 

Yuuji just collapses into himself, “Why… Why does this always happen to me…?” He reaches a tantalizing hand for you, shaking while he mumbles, “An.. an angel. An angel has come for me…” 

You giggle, naturally reaching back for him, but Sukuna places his body between you and Yuuji, smirking while he slaps his hand down. “Yeah, that’s one hell of a way to put it.” He picks up the pillow again, only to throw it back at Yuuji’s face. 

Yuuji’s reaching for you, again, but your attention is preoccupied by picking a new video to watch. Which… Sukuna feels a small pride in. You’re not paying attention to Yuuji, then again, you’re not paying attention to him, but it’s better than you hanging off his brother in front of him. 

Selfishly. 

Sukuna swears when Yuuji’s hands dramatically falls to the floor, he can hear Yuuji whisper, “Traitor…” Of which falls on deaf ears, clear by the way you're humming to yourself and clicking onto a video. 

“Here, I picked a Selena video.” You say with a smile, placing the remote down. “It’s the intro to her performance at the Astrodome.” You already smile when you see her waving to the crowd. 

Yuuji gains an inhuman amount of strength to push the pillow and Sukuna off him, joining your side and chanting Selena’s name. You’re quick to grab your hair brush, using it as a mic to sing along with Selena’s singing while Yuuji messily follows her dancing on the screen. 

Sukuna merely sits on his heels, looking at the both of you idiots with a dumbfounded look. You’re idiots, you two are actual idiots, maybe even mental. Still, Sukuna is… smiling. A fond look on his face watching the two of you enjoy yourselves. 

More specifically you. You’re hair tied back with a similar fuzzy head band, although yours is decorated with small cat ears and the color white. Some matching colorful clips holding back your baby hairs, and your face adorned with star pimple patches and eye masks.

You’re so weird, he thinks to himself. It’s nice to look at.

Even when you turn to look at him, passing him a face that can only be read as, ‘Stop looking at me, weirdo.’ Sukuna still admires you, passing you an expression you’ve never seen before. It makes your chest flutter a bit. 

“You look dumb.” Sukuna tells you with a smile, laughing when you push his shoulder making him fall off his heels.

“Oh please, have you looked in the mirror?” You say between lyrics, passing him a smug smile as you say, “I’m sure your blonde girlfriend would be on her knees if she saw you right now.” You laugh to yourself, spinning alongside Yuuji. 

Sukuna rolls his eyes, grabbing your wrist and pulling you down with him, “Forget about her.” He tells you, enjoying the way you perfectly fall into his chest, an adorable glare staring at him, “I know I have.” 

You naturally place your hands on the floor, pushing yourself off his chest. “I haven’t.” Your words are directed at something else, and Sukuna knows that. Still, you don’t stand up just yet, you keep your gaze concentrated on him. 

Sukuna looks to the side for a moment, “I’m aware.” 

“I have such a thing for asses.” Yuuji says from behind the two of you, making you turn your head over your shoulder to give him a questionable look. Only to see he’s giving you a mirroring look, “Woah, I literally had my back to you for five seconds, what is happening?” He covers his face, “I feel like I’m interrupting.”

“I’m trying to kill your brother.” 

“Oh.” Yuuji slowly nods to himself, “Fair.” 

You look at the pillow, then point at it, “Pass me that so I can suffocate him.” Yet, Yuuji’s quick by your side, placing the pillow over Sukuna’s face with a laugh. “Or, you can do that, too.” You place your weight on Sukuna, keeping him in place. 

“We got him!” Yuuji yells, looking back and forth around the room. “Someone call animal control!” You giggle, only for both of you to be pushed back, practically sliding across the room as Sukuna sits back up. Yuuji fakes worry, “He’s loose!”

You and Yuuji start laughing again, finding humor in how dumb that line was, while sitting on the ground. Before both you take a moment to stare at Sukuna. You point at him, “Su-Sukuna, your face…” You cup your mouth, trying not to laugh, “..Where’d your face mask go?” 

Yuuji makes a confused face, before lifting the pillow he’s still holding onto. Displaying Sukuan’s face mask perfectly intact and sticking to the cushion. You and Yuuji fall to the floor, laughing hysterically. 

Sukuna turns away from the two of you, his hand placed on his lips. “I-Idiots.” 

Yuuji then proceeds to pick himself up with the pillow, raising it in the air and recreating his best ghost impression while violently sprinting after you. “Boo!” You awkwardly get up, your feet sliding on the wooden floor as you run away from him with a fake cry. 

Sukuna just… watches as this unfolds in front of him. 

And at some point, he swears there is actual terror on your face while you’re running away from Yuuji. Practically, slipping on everything everytime you take a quick corner or round the dining room table. Yuji’s quick on your tail with another scary yell, which tears a real scared scream from you. 

You pass Sukuna a quick look, hiding behind the dinner table. And despite your terror, you’re smiling, clearly enjoying yourself, as you scream, “Help me!” Then, quickly run behind him, hands pressing into his back, “I’m calling for backup, someone get the ghostbusters in here!” 

Sukuna, does something that shocks you both, he laughs. His hand lifts to his eyes while he shakes his head, “You’re so stupid.” Yuuji takes this as an invitation to continue, this time giving his attention to his brother. Only for it to seriously fail and receive a bodyslam into the couch, the pillow long gone. 

Your jaw drops, watching–almost in slow motion–as Yuuji drops, presumably, dead in his spot. His hand dramatically falling limp by his head, his head falling to the side with it. He mumbles, “Brother…?” He blinks, his other hand touching his face, “Is this heaven?” 

“It’s hell.” You quickly perk in, sitting by his head, “I hope you had fun Yuuji, because it’s nothing but suffering and fire from here on out.” You laugh to yourself, pulling his head into your lap. “I swear, you’re always dying on me, Yuuji. It’s like you’re trying to escape from me.” 

Yuuji covers his face with his forearm, “You’ve finally figured me out…” 

You slap his arm, Sukuna sitting on his legs, which you have to think is painful, but Yuuji doesn’t flinch. “Rude.” You mumble, pulling his arm off his face, “What were you saying?” You silently scold Sukuna for sitting on his brother's legs, but he doesn’t move. 

Yuuji’s eyebrows furrow, him looking to the side in thought. “What was I saying?” his eyes land on the screen, watching as Selena finishes her final song to the intro of her performance. “Oh!” He sits up, “Asses.” He says with full confidence. 

You tilt your head to the side, passing Sukuna an unprepared look, before repeating his words with uncertainty, “Asses?” There’s a small laugh hidden behind your words. 

“Asses.” Yuuji asserts, “I have a thing for asses.” 

You nod your head, eyes wide, “Wow. That’s… amazing, Yuuji.” You give him a forced smile, as if he were a toddler passing you a horribly drawn drawing, “I didn’t need to know that.” You stand up, almost pushing Yuuji off the couch as you do so. 

Yuuji throws finger guns at you, clicking his tongue, “Well, now you do.” He falls back down, taking your place on the couch. Yuuji passes you, what he thinks is a charming smile, but looks more scary if anything.  “By the way, you have an amazing–” 

Sukuna hits the back of Yuuji’s head, “Learn to shut your fuckin’ mouth, Yuu.”

Yuu? Is that a nickname Sukuna calls Yuuji? You’ve never heard it before. You put your hand out, “Wait, Sukuna, let the boy speak.” You shrug, turning your attention back to the screen, “He may say something that I want to hear.” You scroll through the related videos, and try to pick another song to listen to. 

Yuuji passes Sukuna a smug smile, “Yeah, Sukuna.” 

Sukuna just rolls his eyes. You give up on finding a video, and place the controller in Sukuna’s hands, silently telling him to pick something. Then, you sit on the ground next to the coffee table, since both boys are taking up the couch. 

Yuuji pulls his legs from under his brother and stretches them, pulling out his phone in the meantime. Yuuji calls your name, “Are you free the whole next week?” You just give a halfhearted shrug. “Well, if you are, Nobara and Megumi are planning on meeting up in the library for the whole week, to study. They just texted me about it.” 

You watch as Sukuna begins searching for a song to listen to. “Oh, that actually sounds really nice, I’d totally be–” You pause, thinking for a moment, “Wait, I can’t on Monday and Wednesdays, I have my club.” You groan at that thought. 

Yuuji tilts his head to the side, “Wait, I thought you liked going to your club?” 

You turn to look at him over your shoulder, “No, I do. Believe me, I do.” You sigh, “But, I have to go to every club meeting since no one wants to cover for me. It’s honestly so exhausting. Like, you don’t even have to do much, you just have to check roll-call, yet no one seems to want to take on the small work load. “And with finals coming up, I really need a break.” 

Yuuji hums, pouting ever so slightly, “Sorry to hear that, if you want, I can take your spot.” 

You laugh, shaking your head while turning back to the TV, only to see a video playing. “I feel it coming.” By, The Weekend. You hum to yourself, already nodding your head to the beat. You smile to yourself, “Tell me what you really like.” 

Yuuji nods with you, skipping a few lines before adding, “Just take it step by step.” He pushes himself off the couch, crawling next to you, “You’ve been scared of love, and what it did to you.” He bumps into your shoulder, making you nod in sync with him.

“I feelin’ coming, babe.” You sing, this time snapping your fingers to the beat, your shoulder rolling together. The two of you enjoy the rest of the song while humming parts, eyes engrossed in the music video. Until you turn over your shoulder to look at Sukuna. 

You feel a bit… shocked by what you see. 

Sukuna’s nodding along, his eyes already on you while singing along, and now that you’re looking at him, it feels like you can hear him singing, “You’ve been scared of love, and what it did to you.” It sounds a bit odd, knowing how deep his voice is, but at the same time it’s domestic. A bit intimate to you, never in your life would you think that one day you would see Sukuna singing along to a weekend song. 

You pass him a ridiculous smile at him, nodding your head a bit more dramatically, “You don’t have to run, I know what you’ve been through.” You place your hand over your heart, which gives Sukuna some form of encouragement. 

He places his hand on his chest, “Just a simple touch, and it can set you free.” 

“We don’t have to rush when you’re alone with me.” You mouth back, swaying your shoulders slightly. 

Yuuji leans back, shooting his hands in the air while loudly singing, “I feel it coming,” Which inclines everyone to sing the final lines together with a laugh.

It may seem ridiculous, singing along to a weekend song with Sukuna, but… it feels real. 

Sukuna feels real. 

–

You stretch your arms over your head, letting out a long yawn. “I think I’m clocking in for the night.” You push yourself off the ground, accidentally making Yuuji fall to the floor. Shit, you didn’t know he was sleeping on you. 

Yuuji shoots up, “I’m up! I’m up!” He blinks hard, looking around a bit confused, “Uh, save your tears for another day?...” He lets his head fall back onto the floor, almost as if he had passed out again. This time, without you to cushion his fall.  

You laugh, rolling your eyes, “Goodnight, Yuuji.” You pat his head, which gains you a small smile from him. 

Yuuji pats your hand back, “Night, night.” He curls into himself, much like a puppy. 

A small huff leaves your lips, before you make your way to your room. Sukuna passes you a quick glance, which you return with a curt wave. “See you in the morning, Sukuna.” 

Yet, when you go to open your door, a hand grabs yours. You don’t even need to look at him to know who it is, you turn over your shoulder, the name leaving your mouth like sticky honey, “Sukuna?” Yet, your eyes aren’t on his face, they're stuck on your hand. 

He’s holding your hand.

Albeit, he is holding it a bit awkwardly, but he’s holding you. Last time you were in a similar situation he was holding your wrist, now he’s holding your hand.  A small difference, but it holds more meaning than you can ever imagine. You’ve never noticed before, most likely because you’ve never taken the time to mentally note, but Sukuna’s had it much larger than yours. It holds your whole hand whole, it's warm and calloused. It’s comforting.

It’s far more intimate now.

“You're rude.” He tells you, but for once, there’s no malice in his voice. It’s more calm and playful, shockingly. “I see you clearly have a favorite brother, pretty girl.” 

You raise your eyebrow at him, slowly pulling your hand away to cross it over your chest. “What? Is it that I didn’t wish you a good slumber?” You smile while he glares at you, you tilt your head to the side ever so slightly, “You’re oddly sassy today?” 

Wait, did he just call you pretty girl? “Wait, what did you call me?” You blink dumbly. 

“I didn’t say anything.” Sukuna says, before adding, “Besides, you’re always fuckin’ annoying, but you don’t see me bitching at you ‘bout it.” You raise an eyebrow, which is more than enough said. “Okay, fine, I’ll give you that.” 

You nod satisfied, “That’s what I thought.” You shake your head, “Wait, no, you’re not changing the conversation, what did you call me?” 

“Dookie stain?” Sukuna says with a satisfied smirk. 

“Oh my god.” You place your hand over your face, “I don’t think I’m ever going to forgive you.” And with that sentence alone, the tone between the two of you snapped into something less light-hearted, and more… distant. 

There’s a small silence between you two, and it isn’t very comfortable, nor is it uncomfortable. If anything, it’s more…. The two of you don’t know what to say. Should you say something about the argument? Or, should you leave the topic to simmer, then eventually die out? Maybe, find a completely different topic to talk about, despite how much you want to talk about the argument.

You look to the side, biting your bottom lip gently. Sukuna leans on the wall across from you, “You’re still mad?” Looks like Sukuna can also read your mind. 

You’re hesitant to say, “Not as much as before, no.” You hug yourself, “I’m guessing you’re also no longer mad…?” You give Sukuna a hopeful look, but it isn’t returned. 

Sukuna doesn’t say anything, just softly sighs. “Finals are coming up.” He tells you, and him ignoring your question, is answer enough. He’s still bothered over what happened. Still, a part of you wonders what you did that got under his skin. That makes you feel a bit worse, the fact that you don’t know. Yet, it couldn’t have been that bad, right? 

That thought makes you feel even worse.

You merely nod, not adding to his words. You don’t have much strength to do that right now. Maybe, you don’t have the strength to have that conversation right now, much rather to your own desires. 

Sukuna seems unsure, hesitant to say, “I study at home, if the brat isn’t bothering you, you should come by.” He cocks his head in the direction of his room. “I already know how annoyin’ he can be.” 

You tilt your head to the side, raising an eyebrow. “Wait, right now?” You tap your door, “It’s past my bedtime, and I’m actually really tired.” You tease. 

Sukuna scoffs at you, “No, dumbass. Later.” You laugh a bit, knowing that even though you're clearly joking, Sukuna seems to find offense to everything. “Besides, I’m going to… uh, talk to Yuuji right now.” He passed you a look that says a thousand words. 

You feel your lips part a bit, knowing exactly what Sukuna and Yuuji’s conversation is going to entail. And, as much as you are a bit mad at him, you smile at him. Your eyes glowing in the small light of the hallway, while your eyes shine bright at him, “That sound… amazing.” You nod softly, “I’m glad.”

Sukuna diverts his gaze away from you, not able to hold your gaze. “Yeah, whatever.” He crosses his arms over his chest, mimicking your stance. “I swear, you always look at me with that stupid smile. It’s annoying as hell.” 

You’re still smiling, tilting your head to try and look at his face. “What? You hate my smile?” You say, leaning closer to him, “Is that why you can’t look at me right now?” 

“I can’t look at your hideous face.” Sukuna responds. 

“Uh-huh, sure. I completely believe you.” You smile a bit, “I’m sure that’s why you called me a pretty girl right now. Just because of how hideous I am.” Sukuna doesn’t respond, but the twitch in his eyebrow is satisfying enough. “Okay, yeah, we can study later.” You turn on your heel, opening your door, “Since you asked so nicely, Sukuna.” You say animatedly. 

“Didn’t ask for anything.” Sukuna tells you while rolling his eyes, pushing himself off the wall to stand a bit closer to you. “You might actually be going mental.” He pinches your nose, blocking your airway for a moment. 

“Sure.” Your voice sounds ridiculous. Which makes Sukuna smile a small bit. You wave his hand off, turning to your room. Yet, right before you close your door behind you, you pause to look at him. Your head leaning on the door. Sukuna almost perks up at you, expecting something. It’s a bit puppy-like in a way. “Say it.” Your eyes are boring into him. 

“Say what?” Sukuna mumbles back, passing you a disinterested sigh. You just give him an expecting look, similar to the one he was giving you not even a few seconds ago. He loudly—and obnoxiously—sighs, “Good fuckin’ night, loser.”

You burst into laughter at his insult, which doesn’t at all feel insulting, but more humorous. “Bye, Sukuna.” You watch as he makes his way back to the living room, but you call his name again, just to mess with him. “‘Kuna?” 

Sukuna—visibly—sighs, his shoulder slowly raising, then lowering, before slowly turning his head over his shoulder to look at you. “What do you want now, idiot?” He’s glaring at you, but it’s still entirely humorous in your head. 

“Good…” You watch as he eyes perk a bit, and you laugh a bit, you can’t help it, really. “Good luck removing those eye masks, they stain the skin.” 

“Fuck you.” He flips you off. 

･ ｡ﾟ☆:  *･ December 1st, 2023 ☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Friday

“It’s done!” You squeal, throwing your hand in the air with enthusiasm. Only for you to collapse onto your computer, “Oh my god, I’m done.” Your eyes close, rubbing your eyelids from the strain of looking at a screen without your glasses. “I hate Gojo, I pray for Gojo’s students next year. This project is literally so invasive.”

Yuuji merely nods, a bit caught up in his thoughts. You can’t help but notice Yuuji seems a bit different, more put at ease, and untroubled with himself. A blissful smile on his face, as his eyes blink with a similar tone, he looks happy. But, not in the sense of grinning ear to ear, but in self… contentment. 

You can even see it in the way he holds his body, his shoulders seem lighter, his smile less forced. It’s almost as if you’re finally getting a glimpse at the real Yuuji, not the one he’s been trying to force into your eye. He’s still Yuuji, but more… real. 

It makes you feel warm. 

You can also see the slight puffiness in Yuuji’s eye. They’re a bit red, and the corners look a bit irritated, too. You assume their conversation entailed a few tears, but you’re not going to point them out, nor are you going to ask. You’re sure Nobara will do that for you.

If anything, you’ll bother Sukuna about it later. Noticing his eyes are also a bit irritated at the corners, too. Not in front of Yuuji, though, maybe when the two of you study on your own, you’ll tease him about it. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, turning your computer to Yuuji, “Wait, can you check it for me? I feel like it’s too personal.” Knowing Gojo, he’d probably love that. “Should I tone it back some more? Or, should I say ‘fuck it,’ and leave it as is?”

Yuuji leans over, eyes skimming the google document. “I think it’s fine, your writing is way better than any papers I’ve done.” 

Sukuna reaches over, taking your computer, only for you to snatch it away from him. “Ah, you can’t see it yet.” You’re mumbling a bit, your face growing hot, “I still have some comments I need to delete before I turn it in.” Again, you think it’s far too personal for a normal school paper, much less for Sukuna to read. 

Sukuna doesn’t bother to ask, just lets you do whatever. “Weirdo.”

“We still enjoying our Friday out?” You ask Yuuji, pulling your head up to look at him. “It’s our last glimpse into freedom for a month.” 

Yuuji perks at this, “Yeah, Nobara should be swinging by with Megumi anytime now.” He closes his computer, looking at Sukuna sitting across from him. “You sure you don’t want to come, Megumi is going to be there.” 

“You’re acting like Megumi is going to suede his decision.” You rest your head on your hand, looking at Yuuji. “Wait, unless they’re secretly dating, and this is your way of coming out to me.” You turn your attention to Sukuna, passing him a smug smirk. 

“I’ll kill you.” Sukuna says, not taking his eyes off his computer. 

You merely giggle in response, leaning ever so slightly in his direction. “Mhm. Keep talking to me like that.” 

Yuuji blinks innocently, “I don’t know, It might. I think Sukuna likes Megumi.” He narrows his eyes at you, “Wait, I’m changing my answer, she’s going to be there.” Yuuji points at you. 

“You’re acting like that is going to change my answer.” Sukuna rubs his eyes. 

You shrug, “It might.” 

Yuuji sighs, looking away from you with a red face, “Well, I’m going…” 

That makes both you and Sukuna turn to look at Yuuji, a smile building on your lips, while Sukuna bites the inside of his cheek. “I’ll…” He smiles a bit, “I always hated when you pulled that shit on me.” He leans back in his chair, letting out an exasperated breath. “I’ll take you out somewhere this weekend, you good with that?”

Yuuji tries to hide it, but he smiles into his hand. 

You lean close to Yuuji, “He loves you, Yuuji, isn’t that so sweet?” Sukuna throws a pencil at your head, to which you almost tackle him for. You quickly compose yourself, “Good thing you love him, because everyday I fight the urge to take him out in his sleep.” You give Yuuji a small smile, “You’re keeping me sane, Yuuji.”

“Who knew we actually had that in common?” 

“We love Yuuji, or we want to kill–”

“Nobara’s here.” Yuuji stands up, closing his computer and placing it in the middle of the table, which you allow your device to join next to. He laughs to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket, “She also said, Megumi bought drinks, but I think that’s a lie.” 

“Let me grab my shoes.” You push yourself back from the table, grabbing your converse and twisting your feet into them. Tapping them on the ground once you stand back up, satisfied with how they look. 

Yuuji’s already by your side, draping a blue jean jacket over his red hoodie. “We’ll be back around ten, I don’t think we’re going to do anything crazy.” He tells Sukuna, looking over his shoulder to see his brother standing behind him. 

“I don’t care what you do.” Sukuna says dismissively, “Just don’t wake me up when you get home.” His hands are in the pockets of his sweats. 

Yuuji nods at Sukuna, pulling your hand quickly to the car. “See you tomorrow.” Sukuna returns the gesture with a small wave, almost laughing when Yuuji pushes you into the car awkwardly. A small yelp resigns in his ears as he shuts the door again. 

Sukuna softly nods to himself, making way back to the table, grabbing his computer from the center. He doesn’t know why he put his device in the pile when he was going to return not even a moment later, but what was done, was done.

“To finish that stupid assignment for Geto’s class–” Sukuna pauses after opening his laptop, immediately flooded with a pink background, and a splitscreen of a google document. It hits him like a rock through a moving vehicle, this isn’t his computer. 

See, if this computer was Yuuji’s, he would’ve closed it and reached for his own. It’s truly as simple as that. But, it’s not Yuuji’s computer, it’s yours, and the google document open is the research project you did on him. 

Besides, what you don’t know, won’t hurt you. 

Sukuna hides the open webpage in favor of looking at your wallpaper, noticing what he thinks is your family under a cherry tree. But, he can’t spot you, which is a bit odd, you would assume that a picture like this would include everyone–Sukuna pasuses, his eyes landing on a small girl in the middle. 

“Holy shit.” Sukuna mumbles to himself with a smile, trying not to laugh. That small girl is you. You look incredibly young, most likely a picture from middle school. Yet, what he’s a bit perplexed by, is your appearance, a stark contrast to how you look now. Glasses, braces, messy hair, and a fashion sense that screams early 2000’s. 

Cute. 

Sukuna wonders if you still need glasses, possibly changed them out for contact once you hit college? Now, he wants to see what you look like in glasses. Would you look childish, like the picture here, or would you look more grown and dignified. Some other thoughts pop into his head thinking about you wearing glasses, but he doesn’t dwindle on them for too long. Despite how inviting they may seem. 

He opens the document again, immediately meeting with the simple words of, ‘Project, by me.’ He thinks it’s a bit improper, and adds your name for you. You can thank him later for being such a kind roommate, and–now–study partner. 

Sukuna’s eyes naturally fall on the small circle chart at the beginning, explaining the nutrients, and food he intakes. Right next to it is a graph explaining his active life, how much he works out, and practices. Along with the calories he burns, along with what he gains from working out. 

It’s far more extensive than he’s ever noted about himself. Yet, that’s not the part that seems interesting to him, more or less what he’s looking for. He’s looking for personal notes about him. Your… “evaluation,” of sorts. He wants to know what you wrote. 

Sukuna actually spoke to Maki earlier in the day, asked her about the project. 

“What?” Maki asked with a scowl, “Why the hell would I do that?” She places her hands on her hips. 

Sukuna’s quick to say your name, “Asked for an example, just hasn’t had the time to find you yet. Decided I’d help her out.” He placed his hands into his pockets, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently. 

Maki sighed, flicking her glasses to the bridge of her nose, before pulling out her computer, placing it on the picnic table where she was eating. “Fine, but tell her she owes me.” She said with a groan. 

“Nah, I’ll take care of it.” Sukuna said, eyeing the screen Maki just showed him. She did it on her brother Megumi, writing about who he is, analyzing his character, and more specifically, who he is in her eyes. “Hm.” He nodded to himself, “Cool, I’ll buy you lunch, or something.” 

Maki shook her head, “Sure, whatever.” 

Now, Sukuna can’t deny how curious he is about what you wrote about him. Along with the small comments you added to yourself. He’s quick to click the first one. It’s attached to a sentence. 

“Sukuna Itadori – a previous student of yours – holds himself with pride, strength, and dignity. Yet, contains a side to him which no one seems to view, a side that’s more caring then most would note.” 

– ‘Pride is one hell of a way to put it. I already hate this.’ 

Sukuna laughs a bit, clicking onto the next personal comment. 

“Sukuna is an individual that pushes everyone out, in fear of rejection. (Rejection – the dismissing or refusing of a proposal, idea, etc.) However, the rejection feared isn’t tainted in love, or measly relationships written in immature youth, nor is it littered from social cliques which people tend to flock to, but rejection as in the fear of yourself, of never meeting what you pray to become.” 

– ‘That’s all the professor is going to get out of me, honestly, the man is so nosey. Fail me if you need to, I don’t care anymore.’ 

There's another comment attached to it. 

– ‘Sukuna deserves so much better, then just being my stupid fucking project. I wish I could tell him that.’

That makes Sukuna reel back, his heart beating loudly in his chest. A plethora of emotions flooding his head, along with guilt seeping through his chest. It feels weird, something he feels very little of, but it’s real and drowning. You… You do know why he’s mad. 

Now, ugh… he feels a bit stupid. 

Now, he feels bad. 

Sukuna shakes his head, he wants to continue, but doesn’t know if he should. There’s only a few more comments, which can’t be too revealing, it can’t make him react in such a way as the previous one, right? So, he’s fine to continue. 

“I noted that being by the side of an athlete was going to be revealing of his character, however, I couldn’t help but notice the change of mine. I became more nervous, scared, excited, and riddled with anxiety. My personal agenda against Sukuna switching from the one I heard from acquaintances, to something I could piece together on my own. He’s brash, stoic, and pleasing to the eye.” 

– ‘“Pleasing to the eye?” What is this, 1900? I swear, just call him sexy asf, I’m sure Gojo wouldn’t care… hell, he’ll probably understand if anything.’

That makes Sukuna laugh, “She’s going to hate me.” But, that doesn’t keep him away from looking, if anything, it has him clicking your second to last personal comment. However, right before he can get to them, Sukuna notices the massive paragraph break between a conclusion, and the two more comments. 

The conclusion is simple and dignified. However, the paragraph under the break isn't so much. 

“Sukuna Itadori. A man who has managed to flip my world upside down, a complex person of which I feel I will never understand. Yet, I've grown to terms with that. I’ve grown to terms that the only individual I will understand is myself, however, spending time with some else at close proximity, passes me a glimpse into someone else's life, along with their problems and aspirations. I understand so little, yet more than most.” 

– ‘This is too personal, I need to write a better conclusion. Ugh. So close to being done.’ 

Sukuna agrees, mumbling to himself, “It’s like she’s in love with–” His finger clicks the last personal comment. 

– ‘Just say you love him, it’s not like he’s going to see it. Maybe, Gojo will give me a good grade for the confession, too.’

Sukuna closes the computer, then cups his face. 

He’s fine, there’s nothing happening right now, his mind isn’t racing, nor is his heart beating quickly at all. He’s completely calm, not freaking out at all. His…

Sukuna’s ears are tinted red. 

You’re going to kill him. 

･ ｡ﾟ☆:  *･ December 2nd, 2023 ☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Monday

You already told yourself–close to a million times now–you put your name on the document. You just don’t remember putting your name, even though you distinctly remember, not putting your name on the document. You shouldn’t think about it anymore, anyway, you turned in the assignment and–

“Madame President, are you okay?” 

“Stop calling me that, I actually hate it.” You mumble to yourself, before standing straight up. “Uh, what’s up?” You glance around, “Are there more papers I need to fill out, or something?” A boy shows you his drawing of him and you, a heart in the middle. 

You smile, patting his head, taking the paper away from him, telling him a silent ‘thank you,’ before looking at your peer. “Uh, no, there’s someone… uh, someone’s waiting for you.” They push their glasses to the bridge of their nose. Pointing in–what you think–is a general area. 

You feel everything around you go blank, the floor sinking beneath you. You want to swallow the lump in your throat, but you can’t. You force a nod, “Uh, yeah, I’ll go… talk to them.” Walking to the person makes your heart pound, your body littered with anxiety. 

Mahito. 

He’s smiling at you like a friend, waving widely and catching the attention of your fellow peers and children. He calls your name so kindly, you wonder if you hallucinated the whole night at the party. “Yoo-hoo! Come here!” 

You feel your eye twitch, your feet sinking into the ground with each step. You pass him a half-hearted wave, “Uh, what do you want?” That sounded really mean, but he deserves it. 

“Awh, don’t be tense with me, I’m not here to hurt you.” Mahito waves his hand reassuringly, before his eyes narrow in on you. “I just wanted to talk to you, little puppy. Without your owner to bother us, this time.” 

That nickname makes you uncomfortable–no, Mahito makes you uncomfortable. “Uh…? My owner?” Is he talking about Sukuna? That makes you scowl, why in the world would Mahito think Sukuna owns you? Just because you spent some time around him–and like him–doesn’t mean anything. “I’m sorry, why are you here?” 

Mahito pushes his hair over his shoulder, his smile widening. “I’m here to talk to you.” He taps your forehead, and his finger is cold, sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. “Also, Sukuna sent me for you.” 

“Did he?” You glance over your shoulder, looking at the children and peers playing. It makes you feel a bit sick, you’re in such a tight situation. You can’t cuss him out, nor can you make a big scene. You’re trapped, and there’s nothing you can do. 

Mahito nods, “Yup! He’s asking to bring you to the parking lot.” He places his hand on your head, ruffling your hair, which you hate immensely. “Just wants to make sure his little puppy doesn’t get lost on the way over there.” He smiles at you, “Isn’t that so kind? Wanting to keep you safe from the horrible people out there?” 

You push his hand off your head, “Don’t touch–” 

A hand presses on your shoulder, making you turn. “President, if you need to leave, that’s fine.” They lean in a small bit, cupping your ear as they whisper, “A few of the kids are scared of your friend.” 

You shrug them off, “He’s not my friend.” But, that leaves you in a horrible place to make a decision. You don’t want to distress the children, but you also don’t want to leave anywhere with Mahito. Your head is screaming at you, that is a horrible idea, and you’re going to listen. 

“What? But, I thought we were close?” Mahito takes a step forward, placing his arm over your shoulders, “Is this you telling me that you hate me? That you don’t want to be my friend?” 

Yes. “Uh, I would personally…” You push him off you, glancing at your peer, then the children again. You look down at the drawing in your hands, before softly sighing in defeat. “Fine. Where does he want to meet?” Your head is screaming at you, don’t, you’re going to get hurt, but you can’t be around children with this creep. 

Mahito jumps with joy, humming to himself briefly, “Yay!” He claps his hands excitedly, grabbing your wrist to pull you along with him, but something grabs your hand, pulling you away from him. Mahito instantly turns on his heel with a questionable look, before his face flushes pale. 

You keep your back to them, their chest hitting the back of your head. Their voice is laced with venom, “You really want to die, huh?” Naturally, relief washes over your body, your hand squeezing his. A silent thank you, and gain of strength. 

Mahito thickly swallows, shaking his head, “Let’s stop kidding around, Sukuna, you’re not going to kill me.” He waves off his sentence, “That’s… illegal.” He sounds unsure of himself, passing the two of you an unnerved smile. 

Sukuna merely raises one of his eyebrows, “You want to talk about shit that’s illegal?” He sticks his free hand out, holding it open and gesturing for him to hand him something. “Give me your phone, let’s see what’s on it.” 

Mahito seems to cower at that, shaking his head. “No, actually, do we have practice today? I think I need to be… there.” They don’t have practice today? He turns on his heel, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I’ll see you there, Sukuna.” 

You twist on your heel, looking at him, “What are you doing here?” 

“Saving your ass, apparently.” 

“How did you even find me?” You cross your arms over your chest, tapping your foot impatiently. 

Sukuna raises an eyebrow at you, lifting his sunglasses up to keep his hair out his face. “I didn’t find you, I just remembered.” He’s wearing something that fits along with his sunglasses, a black button up shirt, two buttons popped at the collar, and the sleeves raised above his elbows. He’s wearing some black pants, however, they’re matched with some red jordans. 

“Remembered?” You say a bit confused, “What do you mean, remember? I’ve never brought you here.” You glance at the person with glasses, passing them a quick look of, ‘did I?’ They shake their head shamefully. 

Sukuna rolls his eyes, lifting his hand to rest on the back of his neck. “When we first saw each other.” He turns away from you, and, maybe it’s the sun–it’s December, there’s no sun–that’s making his ears red.

You blink a few times, before your eyes widen with realization, “Wait, you noticed me?” You tilt your head to the side, trying to look at him, “Wait, are you saying you were looking at me when you passed by with your football friends. You noticed me?”

“Don’t sound so giddy, weirdo.” Sukuna finally looks at you again, but he pinches your cheek, hard. “Who wouldn’t notice your ugly face.” 

He smirks to himself, but it quickly dies into a scowl. “Looks like Mahito noticed you first.” He sighs, leaning his head back slightly, “If I were you, I would file a restraining order.”

You shudder, recalling the blue-haired man, “Ugh, I don’t want to remember him, or that…” Your voice waivers a bit, before you finish your sentence, “Uh, that night…” You divert your eyes, pulling your hand in front of your body to look at the drawing again. You shake your head, “What on his phone, by the way?” 

Sukuna looks to the side, licking his teeth. “Don’t worry about it.” He places his hand on your head, but instead of ruffling your hair like Mahito, he fixes the messy strands. “It’s nothing you’re ever going to have to worry about.” 

“What does that–”

“You’re a horrible fuckin’ artist.” He takes the paper from you, looking at the drawing. “Good thing you’re becoming a physical therapist.” 

“I didn’t draw that.” You flinch when you feel a small hand tug at the bottom of your shirt, drawing your attention to the artist of the drawing Sukuna is holding. You instantly lower yourself to his height, your hand touching his shoulder gently. 

“Is he bullying you? Mean one.” The boy asks, pointing a finger at Sukuna when he stops signing at you. A small breath of relief passes your lips, you’re glad he’s around with Sukuna, and not with Mahito. 

You laugh a small bit, a smile splitting your lips as you quickly glance at Sukuna. He’s looking at you curiously. You shake your head, “No. Not bullying me.” You pat his head, “A close friend. He’s nice, most of the time.”

“He looks very scary.” The boy tells you, “Is he the boyfriend?” 

You loudly laugh at that, shaking your head. Sukuna hands the drawing back to you, “Did he ask you if I’m your boyfriend?” 

That accurate guess startles you, “Uh, yeah? He did?... Wait, how’d you know that?” You blink a bit at him, taking the boy into your arms as he silently asks for a hug. 

Sukuna shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “A good guess.” 

You narrow your eyes on him, suspicious. “A good guess?” Maybe, Sukuna and Uraume are part Jedi, or something? For some reason, that makes a lot of sense in your head. 

The boy tugs your shirt again, “Is he take you away from me?” 

You smile, “No, he will not take me away from you.” You look up, locking eyes with his mother, “But, your mom is here to pick you up.” He perks at that, quickly twisting around and searching for his mom with an excited smile. You stand up, pointing a finger at the person with glasses again, “You, go sign him out, I gotta’ deal with him.” You cock your head in Sukuna’s direction. 

“Fine, walk your ass home then.” Sukuna turns on his heel, walking away from you. 

You’re quick to grab the back of his shirt, “Wait, you’re taking me home?” You ask innocently, peaking your head past his shoulder, “But, that means that Yuuji’s going to have to take the bus alone, and I can’t do that to–”

“I’m taking you both home.” Sukuna pulls his shirt away from you, “Believe it or not, but not everything is just about you.” 

You roll your eyes, before glancing behind you. You catch a glimpse of all the people and children, before turning back to Sukuna. “Let’s just go.” You whisper, looping your arm with his, “Maybe, no one will notice.” 

Sukuna seems to smile at this, “You’re not going to get in trouble?”

“Who cares?” You shrug, walking alongside with him, “I do everything for that club, the least they can do is let me have a day off…” You look to the side, mumbling, “Maybe, even two.” You smile, picking up your pace when you think you hear someone call your name, you look at Sukuna over your shoulder. “Besides, don’t you need me to study today?” 

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, before scoffing a bit, “Yeah, let’s go.” 

You just laugh in return. 

—

You pop another fry into your mouth, “I thought you said you were also taking Yuuji home?” You shut his door behind you, passing Sukuna a quizzical look. “Unless, he somehow has powers and is just invisible?” You use your hands to feel around the car’s area for anything. 

“You’re so stupid.” Sukuna locks the car, turning it on to blast the heater for you. “I just lied to you. He’s out doing some weird ghouls and ghost shit. The weirdo.” He can see the glare you’re giving him, and quickly responds, “What? You were acting too cocky. Can’t have you think I’m goin’ soft on you.” 

“Well, you are.” You lift the Mcdonalds bag, shaking it slightly. “Even if you don’t want to admit it.” You lower it into your lap, grabbing another fry and eating it. 

“I was hungry.” Sukuna tells you. 

“Uh-huh.” You pass him a knowing look, then point at the cup sitting in his cup-rest. “Can I have some of your Mcflurry? Looks good.” 

Sukuna doesn’t even pass you a glance, “Help yourself.” 

You giggle before grabbing the cup, helping yourself to the creamy treat. You know, and you’re sure Sukuna knows the ice cream is now yours, and he’s not getting it back. So much for being hungry. “You’re so sweet to me.” 

“Nope.” Sukuna takes a bite of his burger, nodding his head in approval. Something you noticed all people–more specifically, men–do when eating. You wonder if that’s a psychological thing, or something…

“You didn’t get any fries?” You ask with a head tilt, grabbing a small french fry and lifting it from the brown bag. “Isn’t that the best part of Mcdonalds?” You take another bite of the Mcflurry, a shiver shooting down your spine uncomfortably. 

“Sure.” Sukuna looks at you, taking a bite of his burger. “If you don’t mind dying from whatever shit they put into them.” He grabs his coke, taking a small drink of the dark liquid. 

“Ugh.” You loudly groan, sinking into his leather seat. “Don’t tell me you’re an obnoxious gym-bro who’s gonna’ criticize me for everything I eat.” You twist your head away from him, “I don’t think I’m going to be friends with you after this.” 

Sukuna laughs a little bit, saying your name to catch your attention, you merely lazily pull your head in his direction. “I’m joking, I’m literally eating Mcdonalds with you.” He lifts his burger, testing it back and forth. “You’re bad with sarcasm.” 

You quickly sit back up, narrowing your eyes at him. “It’s not sarcasm if you sound the exact same, Sukuna.” You press the fry to his lips, keeping it there for him to eat, “That’s you being… you.” 

“Hm.” Sukuna opens his mouth and allows you to feed him, “Maybe, you’re autistic.” He says in between chews. He says it so nonchalantly, you didn’t even find it humorous, again, you think it’s Sukuna being… Sukuna. 

“That option is definitely on the table.” You say with full seriousness, before narrowing your eyes suspiciously, “Wait, is this a form of you shaming me?” You point dramatically at him with a fry, “Are you shaming me right now, Sukuna?

“Absolutely.” Sukuna turns on his car, “In fact, I’d call you a whole lot of things in my head, just filter myself since I know you’re sensitive.” He places his hand on your head while looking over his shoulder,  pulling out of the parking spot. “You big baby.”

“Now, we’re just going back to our previous conversation, you do have a soft spot for me.” You pop another fry in your mouth, adding, “You may not be aware of it, but you subconsciously do, which I think speaks louder than any actions, or words you may yell at me.”

Sukuna furrows his eyebrows, “You seem very talkative today.” 

You shrug, scooping up more ice cream into your mouth. “I’m just stating the truth.” You scoop another mouthful, but this time, you hold it to Sukuna’s lips, which he takes into his mouth without a second thought.

He mumbles, “And, what’s that?” Sukuna pulls his hand away from your head, putting the car into drive. 

“I don’t know.” You lean your head on the window, a small spark of anxiety building in your stomach as you whisper, “You actually care for me, in a weird Sukuna way.” A part of you wants Sukuna to agree, you want to hear what he has to say. You want to hear it more than anything right now. 

“Wait, I thought you have to eat healthy for Football, or something?” You tilt your head, “Isn’t Mcdonalds totally bad for you, or is this like your cheat day?” Not even that, but supposedly Sukuna only ate things that were perfect, did Mcdonalds also happen to fall under that specific spectrum?  

Now, you have so many more questions. Wait, no, Mcdonalds fries are fair, you completely get it. But, he’s not even eating them?! You’re just making your brain hurt right now. 

“Coach doesn’t care what I eat.” Sukuna shrugs, “I don’t care how I eat, as long as I work it off later.” 

You thoughtfully hum, “Oh. Well, you should probably write down all of this in your app thingy.” You gesture to the Mcdonalds mess in his car. “I can do it for you.” You reach for his phone in his pocket, and he naturally lips his leg for you to retrieve it. 

“My app thingy?” Sukuna questions, but it sounds more like he’s making fun of you if anything. “The hell are you talkin’ about?” Wait, no, he sounds genuinely confused. 

Now, you’re confused. “Yeah?” You tilt your head to the side, “You literally let me look at it for my project, remember?” 

Sukuna pauses for a moment, before his eyebrows raise ever so slightly, “Oh, yeah.” He nods, “I know what you’re talking about.” 

You slowly move your hands back and forth, “So…?” 

Sukuna groans, “I deleted that forever ago.” He shrugs, “I didn’t need the app.” 

“Then why did you–” 

“I got it for you.” Sukuna rolls his eyes, “I didn’t want to deal with your pestering questions about my diet. Thought it’d be helpful for the situation.” 

You furrow your eyebrows, “Wait, does that mean you got the app for me?” You end up smiling, poking his arm playfully, “Oh my gosh, Sukuna, you got an app to make the project easier for me? Is that why you were really bad at filling out the–”

“Not everything is about you.” Sukuna shrugs off your arm, mumbling to himself. “I swear, you’re so conceited.” 

You pout like a child, shoving your face with more fries before placing the empty bag on the floor of his car. “You can at least let me think you did something nice for me, ‘kuna.” You try to finish the Mcflurry, but find yourself a bit too full. 

“Kuna?” Sukuna mimics back to you, “Where’d that come from?” 

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “What? What are you talking about?” 

“You just called me that.”

“No, I didn’t.” You’re not looking at him.

“Yes, you did.” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

“You’re such a child.” Sukuna rubs his eyes, “Whatever, be like that.” 

You just shrug, scooping another mouthful of ice cream and feeding it to Sukuna. You keep silent, and you can’t help but notice the way Sukuna adjusts himself uncomfortably in his seating. “Keep talkin’ to me.” 

You tilt your head to the side, narrowing your eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I want to hear you talk.” Sukuna flicks your forehead, “Dumbass.” 

“You want to hear me talk?” You smile to yourself, “Or, is this a silent way of you telling me you like hearing me talk?” 

“I’m used to you babbly about nonesene, silence from you makes me uncomfortable.” Sukuna didn’t really answer your question, but he didn’t deny it. Which is better than nothing. Honestly, that’s a win in your book with Sukuna.  

“Wow, thanks.” You put the empty cup in his cup holder, shoving the spoon inside. “What do you want me to talk about?” You naturally place your elbow on the center console, leaning your head on your hand. 

“I don’t know.” He rests his hand on the center console, it’s close to touching your arm. “I like hearin’ you talk.”

“So, you admit it now.” You sound more matter of fact, rather than playful this time. Because, in all actuality, you already knew Sukuna felt that way. You huff a sharp breath of laughter, “I feel like you’re making fun of me.” 

Sukuna smiles to himself, “Oh, I absolutely am.” 

“You know what, just for that, you now have to take me home everyday.” 

･ ｡ﾟ☆:  *･ December 3nd, 2023 ☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Tuesday

“Do you think Yuuji will be mad we got food without him?” You shut his door behind you, passing Sukuna a sympathetic look. “Again?…” You pout to yourself, “Hopefully, he’s going out to eat with his other friends?” You grab the trash from his car and stuff it into the paper bag. 

“He’s good on his own.” Sukuna locks the car, making way to the entrance of the house. “He can manage one or two days without Mcdonalds.” He can see the glare you’re giving him, and quickly responds, “What? You want to buy him the food?” 

“No.” You add from behind him, following him into the house. “You already know I’m too broke for that.” Sukuna doesn’t respond, but you’ve grown used to his silence, so it doesn’t bother you. If anything, the small huff of laughter is enough for you. “Do you want to set up in the kitchen?” 

Sukuna opens his room, shaking his head. “Nah.” He walks inside, “We’re doing this in my room.” 

You almost trip over your feet, your face growing a bit hot. “Your room?” You look to the side, then back at his open door. Shoving the paper bag into the trash can sloppily, a small napkin falling out. “We can’t study in the–” 

“Get in here.” Sukuna yells from his room. 

You’re quick to join him, dropping your converse loudly at his door while mumbling, “Maybe, if you would ask politely.” You shut the door, dropping your bag next to your shoes. Mumbling to yourself, “I swear, you’re also so bossy.” You naturally move to his bed, flopping onto the mattress. 

“Yeah, just lay in my bed.” Sukuna says sarcastically, pulling out some textbooks, “It’s not like you haven’t washed your ass in days or anything” Sukuna literally saw you leave his restroom with wet hair in the morning, he knows you showed today. 

You laugh, rolling your body in his blanket, trying to create some form of warmth. “Shut up.” You naturally grab one of his pillows, planting your face in it. Instantly, his scent floods your senses, making you a tad bit dizzy. 

Sukuna feels one of his eyebrows twitch, his face a bit red from watching you shove your face into his pillow. “Stop being fuckin’ weird.” He grabs your ankles, tugging you off the bed and onto the floor, your back hitting the ground with a solid ‘thud.’ “Now, I need to clean my sheets.” 

“Stop being so dramatic.” You let your head fall back onto the floor, a small smile on your lips. “I remember you telling me you like the way I smell, so consider it a–” 

Sukuna slaps the pillow over your face, “Oh my god, you never shut up.” He sighs, sitting down on the ground, laying out his computer and textbooks. “Start doing your damn work.” 

A muffled, “You asked for this.” Leaves your mouth, making you push the pillow off your head. “See, this is why I wanted to study in the dining room, we would actually be working on a table. Not the floor.”

“Stop complaining.” Sukuna’s already trained on his work, notebook and textbook open. “Do your damn work.” You sigh, crawling over to your bag. Sukuna’s eyes follow your body as you bring your stuff in front of him. 

“Hey, do you think my skirt is cute?” 

The question seems random to Sukuna, but he answers nonetheless, “What do you want me to say to that?” 

“Yes.” You say with a playful grin, “Honestly, I would prefer it if you got on your knees and told me, ‘It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen since you’re wearing it!’ but, I’ll take a simple yes in this situation and be happy.” You bat your eyes at him innocently.

“Even if it would save my and Yuuji’s life, I wouldn’t get on my knees for you.” Sukuna says annoyedly, “But, uh, your skirt is fine, I guess.” 

A small spread on your face, “Awh! Thanks Sukuna, you’re always so sweet to me.” You wave your hand up and down, pretending to be flattered. 

“You’re pushing me.” Sukuna says unbothered, looking at his work. 

“That's the goal.” 

Yet, as you’re laying out your things, a small light bulb lights up in your head. “Sukuna?” You place your notebook on the ground next to your computer. Sukuna doesn’t look up, but he does say your name in a similar tone to your question. Acknowledging and a bit indulging. “You’ve never told me what you’re studying?” 

Sukuna lifts his eyes from his computer screen, “I’m studying engineering.” He writes something down in his notebook, answering or writing a question down. 

“Is that what you always wanted to do?” You lean forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the type of work he’s doing. Although, you can’t really see it, to be honest, you can’t really see your work right now. You need your glasses, but you’re not keen on retrieving them from your bag right now.

Not in front of Sukuna, at least. 

“No.” Sukuna places his pencil down, “I wanted to go into business, but gramps told me that was a stupid idea.” 

“What?” You tilt your head to the side, “Why would that be stupid?” You think for a moment, “Well, I have no idea what business would do for you. What type of business would you be dealing with?” You laugh to yourself for a moment, “Perhaps… you’re in everyone’s business?” 

Sukuna’s eye twitches, “I don’t know how you’re in college.” He shakes his head, whispering, “You’re so fuckin’ stupid.” Still, with his palm pressed over his lips, you’re sure he’s smiling right now. 

“It’s a genuine question.” 

“That’s what makes it so stupid. I think that makes it worse, too.” He leans back on the palm of his hands, “But, I wanted to get a degree in business to… I don’t know, do whatever people do in business.” He shrugs, “I knew I was going to inherit my old man’s company, so I guess I wanted to learn a few things before jumping into work.” 

Things are starting to make a bit more sense now. Sukuna had a nice sports car at sixteen, and owns his own house. Then, there was that one time where you ate out with him and Wasuke at a really nice–expensive–restaurant. You’re slowly starting to piece together Sukuna comes from a bit of money. “Wait, but that sounds smart.” You lower yourself to the floor, laying on your side comfortably. Sukuna’s pillow supporting your elbow. 

Sukuna shrugs, “Gramps said he was hiring me no matter what, as long as I worked, so I decided to do something else. I’m not going to pay for something I’m already experiencing at work.” He sighs, “So, I decided to major in engineering.” In simple terms. 

“Hm.” You continue scrolling through your computer, it’s nowhere or anything important, but you’re sure an idea of what you’re supposed to do will come to you in a bit. “Are you excited? It seems like you’re going to be making a lot of money.” You rub your pointer finger and thumb together. 

“You’re asking a lot of questions.”  Sukuna says, closing his computer briefly. You don’t know if it’s a sign of annoyance, or a silent tell that he wants to continue the conversation. “Any reason behind your sudden pestering?” 

You laugh, a small smile on your lips, “I want to get to know you more, Sukuna.” 

Sukuna pauses for a brief second, your personal comment on your project flashing in his head. ‘Sukuna deserves so much better, then just being my stupid fucking project. I wish I could tell him that.’ And, it makes his throat tighten uncomfortably, a sensation he’s getting far more familiar with, then he would personally prefer.

Sukuna whispers, “Really?” Before he quickly covers it with a scoff, “Money, who cares.” 

You can be going crazy, but you swear you saw his demeanor slip. “Uh.. I–I do.” You explain, slowly shaking off whatever you might’ve noticed. “I’d love to have money to burn.” You smile a bit, “Uh, but… doesn’t everyone?” You drum your fingers on your computer, “It’d be nice to have some money to spend on luxuries, you know?” 

Sukuna passes you a half smile, “Yeah, I get it.” 

“Don’t do that.” You wrinkle your nose. 

“Do what?” Sukuna furrows his eyebrows at you. 

“Smile.” You say, an unserious smile on your lips. “It’s scary, looks like you’re going to murder me.” You search up something on your computer. 

“You’re so kind.” 

“Yeah, this is what you look like.” You flip the screen to him, showing Jeff the killer in picture form. “Think someone posted your morning pictures, Sukuna. Should we go hunt them down?” You turn the screen back to you, giving it a quizzical look, as if you were trying to find the answer to your question on the spot. 

“I’m going to kill you.” 

You giggle, pointing at him loosely. “Only proving my point.” You hook your foot on your other sock, playing with the fabric. “So, how do you plan on doing it? Suffocation, maybe taking me out–” 

“I actually have it written down here.” Sukuna pushes a sticky note to you, it’s pink. “Read it out loud.” 

“Is this a fetish?” You raise an eyebrow, “Do you make all your victims read what you’re going to do to them, or am I just special?” 

Sukuna furrows his eyebrows, almost glaring at you, before he breaks. Twisting his head to the side and bursting into laughter, the back of his hand covering his mouth as he tries to collect himself. He ends up covering his face, still laughing while muttering, “You’re so dumb.” 

And, in this context, you agree. You’re absolutely dumbfounded. Sukuna is laughing, and it’s not a pretty small huff, or a brief chuckle, which you’re not even sure you’ve heard him do, but now, he’s genuinely laughing. 

You press your lips together, a tight lipped smile slowly building on your lips. But, you still look at the sticky-note anyway, trying to make out the words, but you can’t. They’re too small, and a bit too messy. “Sukuna, I can’t read this.” You’re just trying to distract yourself, because if you look too long at Sukuna laughing, you know your face is going to break out in flames. 

“Yeah.” Sukuna says, ignoring your words. “You’re special.” Your name follows, punctuating the sentence. 

Your lips part ever so slightly in a silent gasp, before you look away. “I–I… still can’t read it.” You try to ignore what he just said. Still, Sukuna just called you special. You can literally hear your heart beating in your ears right now, your hands are shaky, too. 

“I want to hear you read it.” Sukuna says, tilting his head to the side slightly. 

“Can you…” You slid the sticky note back to him, turning your head away from him. “Read it for me, I genuinely can’t read it.” You can feel your ear burning, before a horrible realization comes over your mind. 

Sukuna dramatically sighs at you, snatching the sticky note from you. “What? Are you blind or somethin’?” He laughs to himself, before looking at the sticky note whispering, “Oh, that’s right, you are.” 

You blink once, then twice. “What.” 

Sukuna presses his lips together, “Huh?” 

“What did you say?” 

“Didn’t say anything.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, watching as his eyes are trained on the sticky note. “How do you know that?” You made sure no one knows that, even Nobara, so how would Sukuna know that? Were you squinting too much at your screen when you worked with Yuuji and Sukuna yesterday, or did he see the family picture on your–

Your stomach drops. 

Sukuna can see your express fall with it. He closes his eyes and tries not to laugh, “Don’t tell me you saw it?” A horrible, twisted realization falls over your consciousness, “You read it?…” You can feel yourself flush pale, an uncomfortable and embarrassed feeling twisting in your stomach. 

Sukuna deeply inhales, “Read what?” The expression you pass him, breaks him. It’s riddled in embarrassment, your lips quivering slightly, as your eyes are ever so slightly watering. Sukuna laughs until his hand, unable to control himself. Yet, he didn’t expect you to do what you did next. 

You tackle him. His pillow in your hand as you place it over his face, sitting on his abdomen as you ignore his muffled laughter. “Shut up. Shut up. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.” You chant, closing your eyes and trying to not reel in your embarrassment. 

Sukuna taps your thigh, trying to tell you to stop, while his other hand tries grabbing your hand, or the pillow on his head. But, you don’t relent, you continue to try and kill Sukuna. Then, the resistance stops, Sukuna’s hands drop limply by his side, his laughter ceasing. 

You sigh with relief, letting your hands fall slack, but Sukuna goes in for the attack. Swiping the pillow away from your and grabbing both your wrists into his grasp. “And you’re calling me the fuckin’ killer.” He scoffs, using his free hand to reach for your bag. 

You struggle in his grasp, glaring at him. “I have every right to kill you now.” You watch as he grabs something from your bag, and immediately you resist even harder. “Absolutely not, don’t even try to—“ 

“I just want to see how you look with them, calm the fuck down.” Sukuna opens the small box, pulling out your glasses and placing the lenses over your eyes. “See, look at you.” He sits up, making you slide down into his lap, your wrist still held together by his one hand. “You’re…” He looks to the side for a moment, “It’s cute.” 

You look to the side, face burning, “You’re so… ugh.” You groan, “Infuriating.” Still, you can’t deny how pleasant it is to have Sukuna admiring you like this. If admiring is the right word in this situation. 

It’s quite for a bit, before you softly sigh, your legs sliding down and relaxing into him. His grip on your wrist looses up nicely, your breathing soft and content. “How… how much did you read?” You finally look at him again, but with the glasses decorating your face, you can really see him now. 

Sukuna’s face markings are so much more detailed than you originally thought, and his eyes… they’re stunning. A deep crimson, looking at you with so much… admiration and awe. They divert away from you, a cocky smile on his lips. He scoffs, “All of it.”

You feel so exposed right now, “All of it?” You repeat, more so to yourself, then to Sukuna. “So, you know?…” You stop yourself, unable to force the words out. You’re too embarrassed. Sukuna nods, turning his gaze back to you. You instantly cover his eyes with your hand, you can't look at him. More so, you don’t want him to look at you. 

Sukuna smiles, his sharp teeth flashing at you, the dimple in his cheek indenting perfectly into his skin. “I can’t look at you?” He cooed, it’s more mocking if anything. 

“No.” You lean back slightly, which makes Sukuna grab your waist, keeping you in place. His smile falters for a moment, and you wonder why. You were just adjusting your sitting. “Besides, you think I’m hideous, or whatever.”

“It’s true, your face makes me laugh.” You annoyedly groan at him, but Sukuna trails one of his hands to yours, his finger hooking over your fingers. “Let me look at you.” He tugs a bit at your hand, it’s not forceful, it’s more asking if anything. “I want to see the girl who likes me, stupid.”

You don’t respond, you don’t even let his hand pull away from his eyes. You don’t know what you do, you don’t know what to do, nor how to respond to his question. You’re merely grounding yourself into the situation, in the way he’s holding you, and his soft breathing.

Sukuna says your name again, only for it to quickly die in his throat. 

You kiss him. 

Your other hand cupping his jaw as you deepen the kiss, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips work with you. His hands wrapping around torso, holding you tighter than he’s ever held anyone before. You can feel his lashes flutter behind your hand, his head twisting to the side so he can deepen the kiss. 

You break it, pulling away with your hands at your side now. You chew on your bottom lip nervously. Sukuna leans in again, but you turn away, your hands resting on his chest to push him back. Despite your denial of his advances, he holds onto you just the same. His hands aren’t holding you like they did at the party, they’re gentle, they are soothing, and comforting, maybe even a bit longing. 

It’s silent for a moment. 

You softly sigh, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt while you whisper, “Sukuna?” You see him nod, but keep your eyes on your fingers. Looping your index finger under his shirt and pulling his golden chair for your pleasurable viewing. “Can… we talk about it?” 

Sukuna doesn’t even let a second pass before he responds, and his words make the world fall silent. Your heart is beating so loudly, and your body freezes, your fingers tangled in his chain as they finally process in your head. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Your lips part, before you quickly press them together, pulling your gaze to his face. Did he just say that? Did the stoic, unforgiving, asshole, Sukuna… just apologize to you? Your lashes flutter at his expression. Sukuna’s isn’t looking at you, his glare is trained to the dull wall to the right. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

Your heart beats even faster at his expression, your face flushing hot. 

Sukuna is blushing red. 

His cheeks covered in a deep blush, eyebrows furrowed, glaring at you like normal Sukuna would. Except for one thing… his face is burning in a deep red blush, even the tips of his ears are red. He’s embarrassed, very embarrassed, but he still looks angry. 

You move in quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck, whispering, “You… you’re sorry?” You shakily exhale, closing your eyes into his neck. “Did you just say that?” 

Sukuna instantly wraps both his arms around you. His hands touching his own sides from holding you so tight. “I’m so sorry, I’m such a fuckin’ horrible…” He groans, leans his head on yours. “I’m terrible, I’m so terrible.” 

You nod, laughing slightly as you add, “Yeah, you’re an asshole.” You softly sigh, “But… maybe, I am, too.” You hold him tighter, your heart longing. “What.. what did I do wrong? I–I feel horrible for asking, but… I really don’t know.” 

Sukuna closes his eyes, “When I told you…” He thinks to himself, “What happened to me. That’s something I’ve never told anyone, but Uraume about.” He pauses for a moment, “And, I really… I value you more then… I don’t even know. That scares me. It’s terrifying.” 

You nod. 

“I was telling you the worst of me, and I didn’t want to know how you were going to react. I hate everything that happened, and how I reacted, but here I was relieving it for you.” Sukuna pauses again, before forcing out, “Only for you to remind me our friendship was only a week. Everything that we were experiencing was only going to be for a week.”

You instantly pull away from him, “Sukuna, that’s not what I meant–” You pause, looking at his expression, his eyes glossy and shiny. You feel something trail down your cheek, before hitting Sukuna’s shirt. You feel your bottom lip wiggle, before your sniff, your shoulders jumping up with a hiccup. You feel dumb, you’re not even as upset about what happened anymore, but the tears don’t stop. “At the party, I thought you were just going to use me and throw me away, but I didn’t want that–”

Sukuna feels his chest tighten, shaking his head, “I thought you were using me for your project.” He tells you, “I thought that's why you told me you were a burner phone.” Sukuna recalls the way his heart shattered when you told him that, doing everything in his power to keep his emotions together. “I thought you wanted everything to end the moment the week was over, and…” He diverts his eyes, “I… I never wanted that.” 

You close your eyes, recalling the following day. “Then, we had an argument.” Your mind instantly floods with memories, recalling the pain and words you yelled at Sukuna, the lies and truths you told him in a fleeting agonizing moment. 

“Yeah.” Sukuna looks regretful, “The stupid fuckin’ argument.” Both of you are silent for a moment, and you don’t think it’s going to be broken for a few moments, but to your surprise, Sukuna speaks up again. “Did you…?” He thickly swallows, “Did you mean those things?”

You feel a bit on the spot with that question, and you don’t know how to answer. Well, you do, but… what about Sukuna? Did he mean the things he said? You don’t want to say something only for him to not feel the same. But, it’s obvious how he feels, right? It should be now, but it doesn’t feel like that. His words bounce in your head clouding your mind with doubt. You’re scared, no, you’re terrified. “Did… you?” 

You don’t want to hear that answer right now.

“When we “first” made up.” You abruptly ask, chewing the corner of your lips, “I asked you if you’d promise you wouldn’t like me. You asked me if I wanted you too.” You push your glasses to the bridge of your nose, “Why?” 

Sukuna remains silent for a bit, before huffing, “This is so weird to me.” He mutters, softly groaning to himself. “I’ve never done this type of thing with someone.” He furrows his eyebrows, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. 

Still, you look at him through your lashes, and hopefully ask, “Do you… like it?” Your voice is a hushed whisper.  

Sukuna wrinkles his nose, scowling ever so slightly. He shakes his head, “No. This fuckin’ sucks.” This conversation is supposed to make everything, but it feels sad, every word that comes out of you, or him makes his throat tighten painfully. He watches as your gaze diverts from his face, and that makes his chest tighten. Shit, he didn’t say that right. “Well…” He starts again, pulling your face to look at him, “I hate it, but… I hate it less, since it’s with… uh, you.” 

You sniffle again, his words holding you in a comforting blanket. The words spill out, sooner than you would like, “I didn’t mean it.” You push your glasses up, whipping your eyes with the back of your hand. “I was just scared, and you made it seem like you didn’t… I don’t know. Care for me, or something.” 

Sukuna cups the bottom of his face, whispering, “I don’t know why I said that.” 

“I don’t know why I said that, too.” You sniff, “I was just…” 

“I didn’t want to promise anything, because I already know…” Sukuna pushes your hair from your face, leaning in a bit closer, “I’d be lying to you.” He flutters his lashes, “And, I don’t want to… lie to you anymore.” 

You nod, eyes pearling with tears, “I don’t want to lie either.” You whisper, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You grab his shirt.“I want to be… I want to be with you.” You hug him again, your tears wetting his shirt. “I’ve always wanted to be with you.” A soft whisper.

Sukuna chuckles, letting you cry into his shoulder. “Why did you say that sooner?” 

“I thought you didn’t like me!” You cry, adding in a hushed whisper, “I thought you hated me. I thought you were just going to leave me the moment the week was over after using me.” You shake your head, gripping onto the back of his shirt, “I couldn’t stand that thought, so that’s why I pushed you away!” 

Sukuna continues to rub your back, “You’re so stupid.” He mumbles, bringing you into him tighter. I could never hate you. I would never push you away. “It’s okay, now, don’t cry like a baby about it.” He adds a derogatory, yet playful, “Baby.”

“I’m so happy you don’t hate me.” You softly sigh into his neck, closing your eyes as your body completely relaxes into his. “So happy.”

Sukuna tries, he really does, but something hot and wet slides down his cheek, and you don’t see it, nor are you ever going to know about it, but it happens. It’s real, it’s grounding, and it’s pulling. “Yeah.” He holds you, “I know.” Arms wrapped around your, his head tucking close to yours, “I know.”

Your body is completely relaxed as you whisper, “I don’t want to argue anymore.” You shake your head, whipping off the final tears on your cheeks, “I don’t think I have the power to argue with you anymore. I want things to be…” 

Sukuna presses his closed eyes onto your shoulder, “I don’t want to argue like we did on Tuesday.” A sharp breath comes out of his nose, “I like the arguments like the one in the car. It’s cute you have a bit of spunk. As much as it is annoying” 

You pull back, a small smile on your lips, “Yeah, your grandpa is right, you do need someone to keep you in check.” You lower your hands to his chain again, “Thank god you have me, right? What would you do?” 

Sukuna nods, “Yeah, I’d be stress free without you.” He raises his hands to your waist, “Who would want that? A carefree life, compared to an annoyin’ little shit like you?” He’s passing you a boyish smile. He’s smiling far more than you’re used to. You like it. 

“Yeah.” You laugh, pulling on a piece of his hair, “Look, you even have a gray hair, now you have a small piece with me wherever you go.” You look  at him again, this time a smile on your lips. “Aren’t you so happy? You’re stuck with me?” 

Sukuna doesn’t say anything, he just looks at you. His pupils blown wide, as his hands gently hold onto you. You pass him a silly smile, “What?” You tilt your head to the side, “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your lips part, your eyebrows raising in silent shock. “Huh?” A small suppressed laugh escapes your lips, “Wait, are you asking me to kiss me?” You tilt your head to the side, “The f-boy Sukuna, the one who had a girl over this very week, is asking to kiss me?”

“We didn’t do anything. It was just a stupid fukin’ project.” Sukuna leans in closer, grabbing the back of your head. “Just fuckin’ kiss me already.” Sukuna doesn’t even let the sentence process in your head, before trying to press his lips to yours. 

Key word. Trying. 

Unfortunately, right before the two of you can kiss again, a strand of your hair falls in between your faces. Blocking the kiss from ever happening. You naturally giggle, mumbling a small apology. But, Sukuna doesn't seem to be fazed. He just pushes the strand behind your ear, cups the back of your face and pulls you into a kiss. 

It almost feels like he’s smiling against you. 

You kiss him back, but his kiss is much more brief, ending then starting again. It feels unreal, Sukuna, the emotionally unavailable Sukuna, kissing you like a lover of years would. 

You’re giggling, sniffling every now and then, only for Sukuna to kiss your cheeks, then kiss you on the lips again. You can taste the salty wet tears on his lips, but you don’t mind, it’s cute in a way. “You’re not acting like Sukuna.” 

He places his forehead on yours and tells you, “I’ll slam your face into my bed, if you’d like?” Sukuna cockily smirks to himself, tilting his head to the side. “Or, do you want me murder you silently?”

“Silently? I feel like murdering me would not be a quiet activity.”

Sukuna nods in agreement, “You’re right. I can set the house on fire with you inside.” He kisses you again, whispering, “Doesn’t that sound romantic? You’d be my first murder. You’re special.” 

You laugh, “Romantic is definitely one way to put it.” You look to the side, thinking, “But, that definitely sounds more like my Sukuna. I wonder if you were an arsonist in your past life. I feel like that’s very on brand for you.” You look at his eyes, and catch a slight red look to them. “Oh. My. God.” Sukuna flinches when you point at him, “You were crying? Oh my god, were you crying?” You huff, “And you’re calling me a baby… hypocrite.” 

He makes a ludicrous face at you, placing his hand on your face and pushing you off him. Making you fall onto your elbows with a laugh, “I think you’re actually going mental now.” He throws the pillow at your body, “I fuckin’ don’t cry.” 

“Not true.” You smile at him, grabbing the pillow and holding it over your lap. “You cried when you talked to Yuuji, and don’t deny it, I totally saw how red your eyes were.” You wiggle your shoulders, “Awh! The big strong Sukuna is actually a big cry baby like me–” 

“I can make you cry.” He’s now leaning over you, the pillow thrown on his bed. “We’ll see who’s the real cry baby, then.” He’s smiling, but it doesn't look inviting or reassuring, sadistic would be the right word here. A small squeak leaves your mouth. 

You blink a few times. “Huh?” Sukuna picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder. This must be a common practice with the brothers, it doesn’t happen often, but it happens enough for you to mentally note. Another noise leaves your throat when he drops you on his bed, parting your thighs and moving in between them. 

Sukuna keeps his forearms near your head, his nose touching yours. “You want to know somethin’.” 

You giggle, “No, not really.” You laugh when Sukuna drops his head with dejectment, his forehead hitting your nose gently. “Fine, tell me, what do you want to say, Sukuna.” You shiver when his nose brushes over your neck. 

Sukuna’s hand moves under your knee, hooking it around his waist. “I’d give anything to make things up to you.” 

You laugh, letting your arms comfortably cross over his shoulders, “You already said sorry, and that’s already enough for me.” You tug him closer, which almost throws him off balance, causing him to stumble into you. “Especially with your big boy ego.” 

“You ever call me that again, and I will throw your ass to the streets.” He kisses your neck, enjoying the way you naturally open yourself to him. Still, there’s a bit of hesitance behind your movements, and that alone makes him stop. “Did I hurt you?” 

“Mentally.” You throw out loosely, but immediately smile, “No, I’m just, uh…” You divert your eyes for a moment, “Uhm, nervous, I guess.” No, you’re not nervous, you’re scared. What if he just… leaves again. 

“About?” Sukuna sounds different, more soft. 

“Uh, this.” You naturally hug him tighter. 

“Should I stop?” 

You take a moment, “...No.” You softly sigh, “I just don’t want you to… uhm, leave again.” 

Sukuna takes a moment, before kissing you again, it’s sweet. “I’m not, don’t even worry about that.” But, your unsure expression makes him hesitate. It’s a bit weird, he’s feeling so many new things today. He wants to make sure you’re comfortable, and he’s almost scared to touch you. You feel like glass to him. 

Sukuna thinks he may be broken, maybe you broke him, but everything that is happening is so new to him. He doesn’t know how to respond, but he does know one thing, he doesn't want to hurt you anymore. He doesn’t want to scare you, or make you cry. He doesn’t want to hear you sob in his arms over something stupid thing he did. He can’t stand that. 

He doesn’t know why, but seeing you like that, hurts him. 

Maybe he is broken. But, every broken part of him wants to be around you all the time. And, he doesn’t know exactly how to comfort someone, or fix what he’s done. But, he’s trying, he’s trying harder than he’s ever tried with anyone before. 

Sukuna may not be the best person in the world, but he’s trying to find a way to build your trust in his own way. It’s the one thing he has always been good at, and almost centralized his identity around. It’s a bit sad when he really thinks about it, but trauma has a unique way of messing with a person. 

He nods, “Okay.” He kisses your temple, “I won’t do anything until you beg me to.” He pushes himself off you, standing between your thighs while you lay down on his bed, towering over you. “You like the sound of that?” 

You feel your stomach twist and turn with butterflies, the feeling of being prey to a hungry wolf has you heating up with desire. “O-Okay.” You thickly swallow, pushing yourself up and sitting up straight, grabbing his chain and tugging him down to your lips. “I like… uhm, I like the sound of that.” 

Sukuna chuckles, “You do?” 

You bite the bottom of your lip, nodding your head slowly. “Mhm.” He cups your face, and his nose tickles your cheek, his kisses coming in fast and soft. Peppering down to your neck, his nose touching your neck like a fleeting feather. While his fingers trail down the inside of your thighs. Goosebumps follow his hands on your legs. 

A pleasurable shiver shooting through your body when he finally slides his hand under your skirt. You whimper, grabbing your skirt and lifting it up, allowing yourself to watch the way Sukuna gropes you. A small moan leaves your mouth, “Keep… uhm, doing that.” You watch as his thumb works painfully slow circles into your covered clit. 

Sukuna nods, eyes enraptured by your thighs shaking around his hand, your pink panties wrinkling and damp from your slick. “Such a slut.” He shakily exhales, “You like this, don’t you? You like when things are nasty.” 

You don’t say anything, merely nod your head. “Yeah, I know, baby, I know.” He says against your neck, his deep voice rumbling against your skin. You feel something warm, and wet slowly move up to your ear. Before his mouth bites your ear playfully. “I know you love the way I touch you.” 

He lowers himself to his knees, flipping your skirt completely up. Allowing himself to look at you for however long he wanted. You move your hand in between your legs, “Are you looking?” You can feel your face burning, your heart beating in your ears. “That’s so embarrassing, please don’t look.” 

“It’s not embarrassing.” He responds, running his nose gently down your thigh. “It’s hot.” He grabs behind your knee, tugging so your legs are dangling off his bed. He smirks to himself, “You’re making me hard.” 

“Oh my god, please don’t say that.” You use your other hand to cover your face, your face burning in embarrassment. But, a small whimper leaves your mouth when Sukuna places his hand over yours, applying pressure to your pussy. You pass him a half hearted glare, “Sukuna!” 

“What? Don’t tell me you hate my words?” Sukuna teases, his eyes drinking up the way you jolt. “Or, maybe, it’s that you hate my voice?” 

“I just hate you.” You mumble, leaning back in his bed, and allowing him to peel off your hand from between your thighs.

“Mhm, I know, babe.” He loves how much he affects you, his voice and words, causing your body to burn and shiver with desire. “Hopefully you can keep to your words when I make you squirt over my fingers.” Sukuna devours the way you shiver at that, your thighs twitching. And, all caused by a few kisses, a light touch, and some deprived words. . 

So cute.

Sukuna grabs your hips, pulling you closer to his face. Lifting your skirt and looking at the thin pink panties that separated you from his mouth. He groans, resting his hand on your knees, pushing your thighs apart to look at your drenched panites. He swallows, blood flooding his cock, straining it against his pants. 

“Okay..” He starts, putting all his weight on his knees. He can see the way your chest is slowly rising and falling, and the cute pink panties that stick to your wet hole. He wishes, more than anything, you weren’t wearing them, but he wanted to toy with you. Just a little. Besides, they would be off in a few minutes, so he isn’t entirely worried about it, he has the patients to wait. “Has anyone touched you here?” 

If anything, Sukuna wants to hear you beg for him to take them off. 

You blink at him innocently, before softly nodding your head. “You have.” 

Sukuna chuckles a bit, “No, gorgeous, anyone other than me.” Both his hands follow the curve of your thigh. Getting closer, and pressing under your skirt. You thickly swallowed, glancing at his hands and face. 

You hesitate to shake your head, but when you do, Sukuna freezes. “Wait, have you ever…?” Sukuna’s still touching you, but it’s more endearing, and less sex-driven. “Has anyone ever gone down on–have you ever had sex?” 

You again shake your head. 

Sukuna feels his cock twitch. “Shit, so you’re really a virgin.” He watches as your eyes divert, “That’s not bad, I just…” He leans his head on your knee, resting it there. “I’ve never been with a virgin.” Sukuna’s been with only a few people, less than he can count on one of his hands, but they’ll all have some form of experience. So, approaching them, and their sex-life is different, but with you, he doesn’t entirely know how to approach it. He wants you to feel comfortable with him, but he also wants you to feel good. 

You push yourself up, leaning on the palms of your hands while looking at Sukuna. “I’ve never done anything, does that make you feel better?” You pass him a silly smile. 

Sukuna huffs, “I mean, it’s kinda hot.” He smiles, his sharp teeth flashing as you, “I'll make your head spin, and your legs shake.” He lifts his hand, tapping your forehead. “Do you want that, you want me to make you feel good?” He watches as your throat bobs, “You want to shake and cry with pleasure while I tongue your clit?” 

You shiver. “Just get on with it already. I feel like we’re talking too much right now.” You laugh a small bit, “I feel like we’re doing this wrong, or something. Are we doing this wrong?” 

Sukuna just raises an eyebrow at you. “You’ve never done this before, how would you know what’s right or wrong?” 

“I’ve seen porn.” 

Sukuna drops his head back, deeply inhaling that exhaling. “Porn is made for horny twelve year olds.” Sukuna smirks to himself, “Wait, don’t tell me you get off to that fake and gross bullshit.” He sarcastically adds, “Dirty girl.”

You flop back down, a small giggle leaving your lips. “I feel like you’re messing with me now. Just do what you’re going to do.” You mumble, before softly adding, “I mean, I want to know why everyone cares about sex so much–” Your mouth parts in a moan, his tongue giving you a hard kitten lick. Eyes bouncing up, and trying to see what reaction you would give him. 

He laughs, “I’ll make you an addict.” Sukuna places his thumb on your clit, rubbing it up and down. “Just promise me you’ll keep your legs wide open f’me. Don’t even think about fuckin’ close them.” He slaps your thigh, making you yelp. “Or, I’ll make you go so brain dead, you won’t even be able to.” 

“Stop talking–” A moan tears through your throat, Sukuna wrapping his lips around your covered clit. Sucking hard on your small pearl, before laughing against your cunt. 

“Did you say somethin’?” He slowly inhales, eyes rolling to the back of his head from your scent. Sex and pure lust, god you’re so fuckin’ sexy. He continues licking your clit, keeping his attention on the sensitive bud. 

You can feel his tongue working against your fabric, wetting it with his saliva and your juices. It’s so nasty, but it makes your eyes cross everytime he flicks his tongue over your sensitive bud. This is amazing. You gasp, your hand clamping down over your mouth to try and keep quiet. A pathetic attempt, really. Sukuna slaps your thigh in response, shaking his head, his tongue swiping left and right as he does so. “Don’t even fuckin’ think about.” He seethes, pissed by you trying to keep quiet. 

Sukuna doesn't want you to be quiet. He’s been robbed of all chances to hear you cry out in pleasure, or his name in ecstasy. Despite this not being his first sexual encounter with you. The first time, he knew you were listening to him jack off, but you didn’t so much as whimper for him. Which was saddening. And, you can only hear so much when the music from a party is playing in the background. Sukuna wants to hear how good you feel. He wants to hear how good he was making you feel.

“What–ah! What if Yuuji is home?” You arch your back, Sukuna sucking on your clit again. “What if he hears?” You whisper, grabbing onto his sheeps, the fabric seeping between the cracks of your fingers. “That’s going to be so–” 

“Embarssin’?” Sukuna fishes for you, trying to finish you off. “I know, but he won’t know, if you stay quite.” Sukuna reaches for your hands, pulling it to his cheek, only to kiss your palm. “But, I don’t want that.” He continues kissing your palm, moving his lips towards your middle and ring finger. “I want to hear you, want to hear you whimper over my tongue and scream my name.” Sukuna smiles, slides his tongue between your two fingers, letting you look at the lewd gesture the two of you are making. “Okay?”

A shaky exhale leaves your lips, before you meekly nod. Sukuna chuckles, pushing your hands to your face, “Good girl.” He keeps your two fingers spread, pressing the open space to your lips. “Let me see your tongue.” 

You feel your bottom lip tremble, before opening your mouth, your pink tongue sticking out and resting between your two fingers. You can feel how they’re wet, and you can taste Sukuna’s saliva. You moan, “This is…” You feel your sentence trail when you notice Sukuna’s gaze trained on your tongue, wiggling and moving between your fingers. 

He closes his eyes, softly groaning to himself. Fuck, he’d give anything to feel that tongue on his throbbing cock. Watch it slide and swirl over the head of his cock, before your pretty little lips would stretch over his fat cock. Drowning in your glossy eyes as hot tears slide down your cheeks, your throat constricting around his girth. 

“Stop thinking too hard about it.” He tells you, his tongue sliding from your knee to your inner thigh, pressing wet kisses into his skin. “It’s supposed to feel good, even if it is gross.” And if Sukuna is being completely honest with himself, knowing that something is filthy makes it hot. He moves to your covered cunt, kissing your lips. Avoiding the place where you want him most. “Just lay down and feel, I clearly make you think too much.” 

You just pull your hand away from your lips, a string of saliva falling down on your shirt. “Okay.” You keep yourself propped up, watching as Sukuna practically makes out with your pussy. You can see how wet your underwear is now, along with how glossy Sukuna’s lips are. 

You keep your hands bundled in his sheets, trying to keep yourself sane as Sukuna makes you feel good. It feels incredible, and looks porngraphic. The fat of his tongue pushing itself between your lips, making a small crater in your panties. The tip flicking your clit, moving up and down like a teasing feather. 

You feel your eyes flutter shut, holy shit, it feels amazing. You don’t ever want it to stop, you want… more. You clamp your thighs together, but Sukuna’s hands are already on your thighs. Pushing them apart and smiling against your skin, “Keep them open.” He shakes his head to the side, his tongue following his movement on your clit. 

You groan, and Sukuna moans with you. Grabbing you right knee and placing it on his shoulder, “Keep this here.” He whispers, continues to suck on your covered clit, watching as your body falls back on his bed. Your back is arching. 

“Oh–oh my god.” You lean your head back, your body hot and sweaty. Holy shit, this feels amazing. Sukuna feels amazing, and it feels depraved. Licking and sucking at your clit, even though it's covered with the thin fabric of your panites. “Fuh–fuck, please.” You moan, tucking your calf behind Sukuna’s head, pulling him closer to your cunt.  

His eyes seem to glow watching as your body jolts, and your pussy twitches. And with the way your panties are absolutely drenched, clinging onto your pussy lips like a second skin, it doesn’t leave much to the imagination. “Please what?” Sukuna mocks, “Please… stop?”

Sukuna isn’t going to stop, there’s no way in fucking hell he’s going to stop, but mocking you, seeing your eyes water, it makes him insane. Hearing you beg and whimper over his mouth, god… Seeing you like this makes him feel… incredible. Knowing that you haven’t done this with anyone else, yet want to do it with him, has him spinning. It makes him feel good. It’s something he’s never had before, but knows he now can’t live without. He has craved for something like this. A hole he’s always adorned in his chest, but never found a filling for it. But now, he feels full, it’s a feeling he would’ve never thought to find, despite how desperately he searched for it. 

Sukuna feels amazing when he’s with you. Even when you’re dancing in his living room with face care adoring your face, a pout on your face while you playfully ignoring him, glaring at him with your reflective eyes, or the small back-and-forth the two of you share. It’s all so amazing. 

But, seeing you like this. Embarrassed and eager for what he was going to do next. Open and vulnerable, trusting and wanting more, it’s… it feels like the best thing in the world. Sukuna feels like he’s becoming addicted to this. He holds the back of your thighs with his big hands, closing his eyes and flattening his tongue on your pussy, tearing another moan from your mouth.

“N-No! Please don’t stop.” You whine, tears brimming your waterline. Your lips part as you moan, gripping onto the sheets as your hips jolted forward, trying to push your pussy harder against his lips. Desperate to get more pleasure from his mouth, you just want to lose yourself in it. You don’t want to think about anything, not school or studying, just Sukuna between your legs. 

Sukuna laughs against your cunt again, continuing his abuse on your pussy. Enjoying the way you try holding your legs apart, your thighs shaking around his head. He tightens his grip on you, not even giving you the opportunity to move them together if you wanted to. “I won’t stop.” He whispers, “Don’t you worry your pretty head off.”

You giggle, sounding a bit drunk, “You–ah! Called–you called me pretty, fuh-fuck, again.” You feel a coil in your lower stomach, something you’re all too familiar tightening inside of you. “You think–oh my god, holy shit, you think I’m–I’m pretty.”

“Fuck yeah.” He moans into you again, “I think you’re fuckin’ sexy, your tits and body, your lips and tongue, all of it.” He wants to add your eyes, but feels himself grow a bit… embarrassed to say that. Ironic, huh?

That makes your stomach twitch, butterflies swarming inside of you. The coil growing tighter, your thighs pushing agsint his hands in protest. It feels good, it feels too good. “Su-Sukuna, m’getting… I’m–” You back arches, your body resisting a bit more. “I’m gonna’ cum, I feel–shi-shit!” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna lolls his tongue out, letting it slowly drag over your over-worked bud. “Fuckin’ cum on my tongue then.” Sukuna closes his eyes, feeling them roll to the back of his head with your soft moans filling his room. You taste so fuckin’ good. 

You roll your eyes into the back of your head, your pussy clenching around nothing. But, you wonder to yourself, what it would feel like to have something inside of you. Something long and thick, stretching you open and fucking your insides until you’re mindless. “Sukuna–Sukuna!” His name leaves your mouth like a mantra, your voice raising in pitch as your legs shake. Your toes curl with pleasure, your hands grabbing onto Sukuna's hair. 

Sukuna instantly moans, loving the way you tug at his hair. Unsure whether or not you want to push him away, or pull him closer to you. “Fuck, c’mon, cum on my tongue, just let it feel good.” 

You finally feel the coil snap, your lips parting in a silent moan as your body tingles. Your thighs naturally pull into your body, opening wider for Sukuna’s tongue working fasting against your covered clit. It feels amazing, it feels unworldly, unlike any orgasm you’ve ever had before. Your fingers don’t even compete to this, it’s addicting. 

The worst–best–part is, it feels so long, and Sukuna doesn’t stop his abuse on your sensitive bud. This time, placing his thumb over it and rubbing circles into it. Making your orgasm even more intense, your back arching in pure pleasure. 

Your hand reaches down for his writes, your mind pulling together only for it to be thrown back into intense pleasure. Something you don’t entirely like, but you don’t dislike, it feels good, but it feels… too good. Like, unbearably, burning pleasure, type good.

Your body grows hotter to the thought of Sukuna touching you without any fabric in the way, the fire in your lower stomach lights a flame again. His tongue actually touching you, his fingers spreading you open allowing him to get easier access to your swollen cunt. 

Sukuna slow stops, watching your legs twitch by his head as he pulls his finger away. “Awh, is it too much for the baby?” He mocks, tilting his head to the side and passing you a cocky smirk. “I thought you were a big girl.” 

You naturally pout. Even if Sukuna didn’t say anything bad, you want to… make him proud. You nod your head, “I… don’t be mean.” You whisper back, “Feels too good.” You pull his hand to your mouth, kissing his palm like he did yours a few minutes ago. You slowly bring your lips to his middle and ring finger, silently admiring how big they are. You can’t help but think how they would feel inside of you, splitting and stretching you open. “I want to make you feel good, ‘Kuna, I want to do something for you.” You open your mouth, your tongue making way between his two fingers. Your tongue is peaking at him, while you flutter your long lashes at him. 

Sukuna feels his brows twitch, his dick straining against the zipper of his jeans. His pupils are blown so wide, you can barely see a ring of red in his eyes. He’s absolutely enraptured by you, his mind swirling with nothing but the way you cry his name, and tremble beneath his touch. 

It feels like Sukuna’s going insane. He just wants to push you further, he wants to see what noises you make when he laps at your clit for hours. Would you cry, or whimper? Would you scream in pleasure, or go numb from it being too overwhelming? Only for him to push his thick cock into your slit, watching your eyes grow wide as your pussy swallows him up whole. 

Your breath grows more uneven with his concentrated gaze, sliding your tongue up the tip of his fingers, and pulling it into your mouth. You whimper, your body flowing with nice tingles again. “‘Kuna, can you please…” You divert your eyes for a moment, before softly finishing, “Can you please do that, without my panties in the way…?”

Sukuna breathes out, closing his eyes for a second before placing his hands on your shoulders and pushing you against his bed. “Careful.” He whispers, resting his dick between your thighs, grinding himself against your wet panites, “I would do anything, if you beg me to.”  

You smile, grabbing his face and kissing him tenderly, tasting yourself in his lips. You tongue rolling around his, “Then…” You pull back, whispering, “Can you please stop teasing me, ‘Kuna, and really eat me out?” You furrow your eyebrows cutely, as you add even quieter, “I really want to feel your tongue on my pussy.”

That makes Sukuna snap.

Sukuna places his hands behind your knees and pushes them to your stomach, keeping them pinned there, “Grab your knees.” He tells you, and you instantly listen, your hands grabbing at your knees and keeping them pinned to your chest. He pulls your panties up, letting them dangle at your foot before looking at you. 

Sukuna looks at you again, his eyes devouring your bare pussy. Wet and swollen, ready for his touch. He keeps himself snug on the bed, places his hands back on your thighs over your hands, and licks a long stripe up your pussy. Instantly you throw your head back, your teeth digging into your bottom lip with pleasure. His tongue sliding between your lips, dipping into your hole, before sliding up and dragging over your sensitive over stimulated clit. 

You whine, your hips writhing against his mouth as your juices slides down your ass and onto his bed. Ruining his sheets, but Sukuna loves that, he loves knowing what the two of you are doing is so filthy, it makes a gross mess. That’s so hot to him, makes him so fuckin’ hard. 

Sukuna moves his hand to his cock, his palm rubbing on the head and trying to adjust his painful hard-on. A feeble attempt to try and release some needed tension, his head spinning from how horny he is. His hips rut into his hand, desperate to feel something, anything on his aching cock. 

Sukuna unbuttons his pants, pulling his boxers underneath his cock and sloppily wrapping his hand around his girth. Groaning against your pussy with an eye roll at the brief, yet pleasurable relief. But, that doesn’t stop him, no, that makes him work his tongue even harder against you. Getting off to every whimper, moan, and breath, that leaves your pretty little mouth. 

You can’t help but notice how much more vocal Sukuna is, and as much as you want to push yourself up and see what he’s doing, but you can’t. Your legs twitch with overstimulation with every swipe, your chest bouncing up with every moan leaving your lips. 

Sukuna pulls his remaining hand on your thigh to your pussy, creating a ‘v’ on your base, then spreading you open. Flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue, making you cry out in pleasure. You try to grip the sheets harder, but it doesn't help, the pleasure is just so intense. This coil of pleasure builds within your belly again, this time it’s faster and more intense then last time. It makes you babble something incoherent to try and warn Sukuna, but to be honest with yourself, you don’t know what you’re even trying to tell him. Your mind is swirling with thoughts of Sukuna, and his actions. How he makes everything around you disappear with something as simple as his tongue.  

You feel tears slide down your cheeks into Sukuna’s sheets, your eyes crossing into your head with pleasure. You babble out, “Oh my god–oh my god.” You hands move back to your thighs pulling them open, and another moan tears from you, he has so much more access. 

Sukuna pushes himself off the ground slightly, places his hands and weight on your thighs, keepings them securely pressed to your stomach as he continues to abuse your swollen clit. His tongues sliding between your lips before catching under your hood, applying pleasure to make you squeal. 

The small act makes your words jumble and moans out of your mouth, your thighs fighting against the pressure and trying to push him off. You don’t want to, but it’s so overwhelming. You don’t know if you want him to stop or keep going. Yet, at the same time, you know you don’t have a say in that currently. 

Which… for some reason, you absolutely love. You love that you don’t even understand what you’re trying to do or say. You love that you don’t even know what you’re laying on anymore, or which way you’re facing, again? But, Sukuna can make out the words, “Fuh–’Kuna, I think… oh my god, please, don–don’t stop! S’close!” Your eyes squeeze shut.  

Sukuna laughs at that, not stopping and letting his eyes drink up the way your muscles tense. You’re close, he knows that you're so close. He sucks onto your clit, watching the way your twitch, before letting go. He pushes his weight off of you, watching as your scrunched expression relaxes, and immediately looks at him with an adorable confused expression. 

Fuck, he loves teasing you.“Feelin’ good, babe?” 

You tense, the feeling being ripped away from you. It feels good, but it also feels wrong. The intense feeling pulled away from you so quickly, it makes you tense. Your muscles are tightening in your lower stomach, you’re so close, but so far at the same time. Then, the intense feeling quickly vanishes making you completely relax into his sheets. Instantly you feel sweaty, your muscles tired and sore. You feel your bottom lips wiggle, “Stop d-doing that! I was…” You trail off, looking to the side as your eyes flutter. “Uhm, you know…” 

Sukuna smiles at this, you got embarrassed. How cute. “Were you?” He mocks at you, caressing your cheek, “Awh, the poor baby wants to cum, you want me to contune tongue fucking you? You like the sound of that?” He rubs his nose on your inner thigh affectionately. 

You pout, “I–I…” You pass him your gorgeous eyes again, glassy and wanting, “Can you please not stop again?”

Sukuna knew he was making you feel good, he could tell by your fucked out face, but anyone could. He merely wants to hear it from you, hear you writhe and beg for him to keep you on the edge. He gets off on that, watching a girl cry from how good something is, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to scare you. So, something more intense, would have to wait for a later time. “I won’t, don’t worry.” He places his thumb on your clit again, “I’m just teasing you.” His finger rub slow and pressured circles on your clit, and it drives you insane.Again, this curling string continues to spiral inside you, pleasure building upon itself. 

Sukuna hums in acknowledgement, before going back to your pussy. Taking two fingers and spreading you apart. Tongues hitting all the places he couldn’t before. He gently bites your clit, letting his fingers trail down your slit. Your eyes widen, before a moan leaves your lips. His finger sliding into with ease, your slick and saliva allowing you pussy to swallow his finger whole. Sukuna groans at this, fisting his cock again. 

Your reaction is perfect, the small gasp you let out when his knuckle hits your lips is liberating. He almost hears you choke on your breath, a bit shocked by the intrusion. But, Sukuna is already reassuring you, praises spilling his lips as he shushes you. “It feels good.” He slowly adds another finger, “Trust me, you’ll love this.” 

You nod, turning your head to the side and resting it, trying to watch as he fingers your hole. It’s not something you’re too experienced with, since you stick to stimulating your clit. If anything, you thought you were broken, since every time you finger yourself, it didn’t feel like anything. Also, the stretch is a bit uncomfortable, but it’s complemented with Sukuna’s tongue, so it’s not all too bad. 

You softly sigh, before closing your eyes. You hold as you feel this prickle of pleasure intense, far more pulling then Sukuna’s tongue. It feels… good. 

Sukuna’s finger slides inside, then pulls out, only to slowly slide back into you, his knuckle resting on your lips again. Pushing his fingers up slightly with every slow thrust. You can hear your voice raise in pitch, growing louder with each thrust and swipe of his tongue. You want to place your palm over your mouth, but you can’t. You’re unable to function, more or less keep quiet. And after a few pumps of his thick finger, you're writhing in his bead with pleasure. 

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, toes curling as an unexpected loud pitched moan leaves your lips. You feel like you’re unable to express how you’re feeling, you want to desperately pull away, but make it even more intense at the same time. It feels like you’re so close, the coil inside you was about to snap. 

You feel something unfamiliar in your lower stomach. It feels good, it feels somewhat familiar, but at the same time, a bit different. His fingers are still working into your cunt, wet with the slick you’re producing. 

It makes the feeling even more intense, and suddenly, it feels like you’re about to… You feel your bottom lips wiggle, “K-kuna!” You gasp, trying to form words, but are unable to find the right ones. 

Yet, Sukuna ignores your plea, merely smiles to himself while sucking into your clit, and pressing his fingers inside of you. He nods to himself when he touches something spongy, he chuckles to himself, “Fuckin’ found it.” As he presses his fingers up, applying pressure onto your g-spot. 

Your vision goes white. Your back arching as you quickly grip his hair, a high pitched moan leaving your throat as you feel yourself completely let go. The pressure in your stomach releases with a painful orgasm. 

Sukuna’s mouth is already on your pussy, riding out your orgasm while he milks his cock. Focusing his attention on the head with a soft groan. His throat bobs as you finish, your thighs shaking around his head before they limply slide off onto his bed. But, he quickly grabs them and wraps them on his shoulders, giving you a final long stripe up your pussy, watching as your hips twitch in overstimulation. Sukuna cockily smiles, watching you pant and melt into his soft and sweaty bed. Clearly exhausted by the high you just received. 

You look adorable. Your eyes were still watery and red, the bottom of your lip swollen from you biting on it, and your body abused from the pleasure you were receiving. God, it makes him even harder knowing that your first time was with him, too. “Mhm, that’s it. Just relax.” 

A shakily exhale, before humming with a head nod. 

He feels his cock twitch in his hand, but he pays it no mind. Just tucking it back into his boxers and zipping up his pants. It feels gross, but he’ll think about that later. He pushes himself on his feet, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand, a smirk on his lips. He sits down next to you, pinching your cheeks and making you look at him. “You with me, doll?”

You slowly blink, trying to gain your sight again. “What is… uhm, what’s supposed to be…” You drop your head back, his fingers slipping from your cheeks. “What was the question?” You still feel… you don’t even know. 

“Yeah.” He lays back on the bed with you, “Just say you’re in love with me, I promise I won’t make fun of you.” 

You gain your head, blinking a few times to pull your thoughts together. “I hate you, Sukuna.” You turn on your side, flipping your skirt down to cover yourself up. You lean forward, and kiss him. “I already told you that.” 

Sukuna hums, nodding his head while closing his eyes. “Keep saying that, I’ll get hard again.” 

“I hat–” Sukuna raises his eyebrows expectantly, passing you a cocky smirk. “I can’t with you.” You look away, but you’re smiling. Trying not to laugh at Sukuna’s stupid fucking joke. Suddenly, you’re hit with the feeling of your bare legs sticking to your sheets. “I feel gross now.” 

Sukuna kisses you for a final time, “I’ll be right back.” He pushes himself off the bed, walking to the door and pulling it open. You assume he’s going to the restroom, and he isn’t gone for long. The next thing you know, he’s back between your legs with a damp towel. While he cleans you up, it feels a bit intimate, as well as embarrassing. You ignore the lewd comment Sukuna made about you wanting to pull your panties back up. Cockily saying, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” 

You merely respond with a slap to his shoulder, letting him press the towel to your legs and clean up the mess. And despite how embarrassingly bare you feel, it’s nice, really nice. “We can put a towel on your bed next time.” You say, pushing yourself off his bed and looking at the stain left. You giggle to yourself, “Guess you were right, I did dirty your sheets.” 

Sukuna slaps the towel over your face.  

You immediately pull it off your face, throwing it at his, “Oh my god, that’s so gross!” You place your hands over your face, “I totally need to watch my face, or I’m going to break out or something.” You work so hard to keep your face clear, now this jackass might ruin it! 

“You’re actually a child.” Sukuna says, dropping the towel to the floor. 

The two of you flinch at the sound of knocking at his door, both of you turning your head simultaneously. You smile to yourself, “One, two, three, not it!” 

Sukuna throws the towel back at your face, which makes him laugh when he hears you cry out in anger. You’re quick to drop the towel back down on the ground with a satisfying, ‘plat.’ Turning your attention back to Sukuna to watch him open the door, you see his back tense. His shoulders pull together slightly. 

You sit up in his bed while tilting your head at him. “You okay?” 

“Is that…?” That voice makes your face drain. Yuuji tilts his head to the side, looking past Sukuna’s shoulder and right at you. He instantly lights up, your name leaving his mouth, “Oh my god, have you two made up already?” He loudly gasps, “Wait, does that mean we can have more movie nights?” 

You part your lips, and look at Sukuna when he turns to face you. The two of you don’t say anything for a moment, before you burst out in laughter, cupping your mouth as you turn away from the two boys. Sukuna leans his head back, resting his forearm over his eyes as his face turns a bit red. 

You let out a sigh of relief. You don’t think Yuuji heard. Sukuna straightens himself out, “Get out of the way, Yuuji.” Sukuna pushes him to the side, making his way to the kitchen. “I need somethin’ in my system.”

Yuuji lets Sukuna pass, “We’re out of drinks!” Yuuji calls back, which is responded with an obnoxious groan. You giggle, but Yuuji is quick to eyeball the floor, noticing how it’s scattered with books and computers. “I’m guessing the two of you have been spending quality time together?” He smiles, “You’re going to tell me all about it, right?” 

You don’t know how to respond to that, “Uh… Sure, yeah.” Still, you feel a soft smile split your lips, crossing your legs over one another. Before you quickly pull your foot underneath your ass, realizing your panties are still strung on them. Shit, you really should’ve put them on despite Sukuna’s comments. “We’re… uhm, we’re just studying together. And, he was… making things up to me, I guess.” 

Yuuji tilts his head to the side, “Things are good now?” He passes you a hopeful smile, “No more angsty tension between you two?” 

You giggle, nodding your head in agreement. “Things are good, Yuu. No more angsty tension.” You feel your thighs sticking together, and you resist the urge to wrinkle your nose in distaste. “Yeah, definitely no more angsty tension.”

“Alright, get out.” Sukuna pulls the back of Yuuji’s shirt, pulling him out of his room. However, this time he emerges with a cup in his hand, you wonder if it’s water, or if he really did find some alcohol. 

Yuuji waves at you, “Bye, I love you.” He passes you a sad look with his big puppy dog eyes. 

You feel your heart tug, “Can we keep him here with us, Sukuna?” You plead, which is answered with a silent glare from Sukuna. You pout, begrudgingly waving back, “I love you, too, Yuu.” You blow him a kiss.  

“Yeah, yeah. Cut the bullshit you two.” Sukuna shuts the door on Yuuji, shaking his head while making his way to you. “I swear, can’t believe you say that shit right after you just came on my fuckin’ tongue.” He leans on his nightstand, passing you a teasing look, “Whore.” 

“Asshole.” 

“Slut.” 

“Dick.” 

Sukuna smirks a bit, leaning his head to the side. “Gorgeous.” 

You feel your brain malfunction for a second, “H-Huh?” 

Sukuna grabs his phone, opening an app. The smirk goes wider as he responds, “Dookie-stain.” You’re about to respond with quick banter, when he pushes the screen in your face, “Give me your phone number.” 

You furrow your eyebrows, taking the phone from his hands. “Wow, does that line work with all the ladies?” You put your phone number into his phone, placing your contact name as, ‘LOML.’ You nod to yourself, clearly content with the creative name you picked.

“You tell me.” Sukuna takes his phone from you, sending you a quick text. You can hear your phone ring in your bag from across the room. “Are you obsessed with me already?”

“I mean, you picked out the name for me.” You point at his phone, making Sukuna actually look at the name you saved yourself under. “I think you’re the one obsessed here.” Sukuna looks at the name, and clicks the contact, and you automatically assume it’s to change it. “Awh, I actually like that name.” 

“Of course you do.” Sukuna saves the contact, then pushes himself off the desk. “Alright, get your ass back to studying.” 

“I can’t believe you just ate me out, then are going to make me study.” 

“Do you want me to buy you a cookie?” 

“Actually–” 

Sukuna grabs your ankles, pulling you off the bed again. “Study.” 

—

You yawn, stretching your hands over your head. You can hear the washing machine rumbling in the background, Sukuna’s sheets in the wash for the night. You hear your phone ring again, and you’re quick to grab it, flipping onto your stomach while you kick your feet back and forth. 

You don’t even have to look at the name to know who it is. It’s not like the two of you have been texting all day, despite sitting across from each other, or merely a wall apart. 

Dick-una:

Come here

You smile to yourself. 

You:

im not sleeping with u

gross

Dick-una:

Just come here

You left your glasses

You:

fine.

Dick-una:

Thats what I thought

You wrap your blanket around you, shivering when your bare feet hit the cold ground, but you’re quick to shake it off. Slowly cracking your door open, and tip-toeing to Sukuna’s room. Luckily the door is unlocked when you go to open it. 

You giggle a little bit, “Give me back my glasses.” You can see the room is still a mess, your notebooks and textbooks littering the floor, since you were too tired to pick them up. However, your glasses aren’t on the floor where you left them, they’re now on Sukuna’s bedside counter. The small lamp ever so slightly illuminates his room. 

“Go get them.” Sukuna responds, and you can see him on his phone, face illuminated by the blue screen. He’s wearing black sweats, and nothing else, his hair is messy and unruly. 

You’re already smiling to yourself, closing his door behind you and making way to the drawer. Being careful to step over all the things on the ground, and finally reaching the drawer. “You’re so kind.” You inspect them, “You even clean them for m–” 

You feel Sukuna drag you into his bed, quickly reaching an arm over your body, and turning off the light with a loud click. He taps your back, “Oh shit, did your dumbass fall?” He says, draping his blanket over the both of you. “Clumsy.”

“Ha, ha. So funny Sukuna.” You let go of your blanket, warming up to Sukuna’s body. “I’m leaving the moment you fall asleep.” 

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up, and fall asleep.” He mumbles back, an arm resting underneath his pillow. “Can’t do anything without you annoyin’ me.”

You giggle, closing your eyes and whispering, “Goodnight, Sukuna.” You don’t expect to hear a response, even when you’re seconds away from falling asleep in his soft bed. But, you hear something anyway. 

“Good night.” 

Next Chapter: Ch. 7 - A Lovely Night

Tag(s)!: @openup-yourmind, @sherlock-holmes-jr, @maskedpacific, @gasp-a-homo, @diogodxlot, @beahappyhoeee, @tojimeow, @sukunamylovexoxo, @yoontaedotin, @sukunaloverrr, @lanadelreylover4l, @raininginthemoonlight, @blackjanexx, @ethereally-lyann, @fritzzbitzz, @lanadelreylover4l, @chayunwoo, @madamteller, @mazzd4, @haithamsbb, @c-l-ellis, @samysaha, @pi-crust, @shukiinnkm

this is too cute for my angst-ridden heart ♥️😩 BUT SERIOUSLY THIS IS SO WHOLESOME 🥹

Sometimes, it’s just fun to mess with Sukuna.

He likes to think he’s got you figured out, like how he knows how to navigate each one of your antics like the back of his hand.

But right now, over ice cream, you decide to pull a fast one on him, keep him back on his toes and let him fester in the playfulness that sometimes slips from the relationship.

“Here kuna baby, try this,” you hum, passing him a spoonful of ice cream. He shrugs and leans over, taking the bite and chewing it thoughtfully.

“Pretty good.”

“Right?” You giggle, before wiping your spoon clean. “I didn’t think I’d like the bits of cookie but-“

“What the fuck was that?”

You quirk your brow as his raise in annoyance, looking at you angrily. “What was what, babe?”

“I know you didn’t just wipe your spoon clean,” he snaps. “Be so fucking for real.”

You giggle, “well… yeah… why wouldn’t I? I don’t want to eat your spit.”

“Eat my- WE MAKE OUT?!”

“That’s different,” you scoff. “That’s consensual. This was my spoon.”

His eyes are blown with annoyance as they look around your face for any indication that you’re full of shit and messing with him, but when you give him a simple shrug, he throws his spoon down and immediately grips your cheeks in his hands, pulling you into a messy, noisy kiss, which you squeal into. You taste the rocky road in his lips, and as much as you want to melt into the intense affection, to rile him up more, you bring yours hands to his chest to push him away.

“Kuna!” You gasp against his lips. “What’re you-“

“Look,” he snarls, pulling away angrily. “We’ve been together too long for us to think anything is gross. I refuse to let you think any part of me is gross. Dickhead. I’m perfect.”

“I was kidding!” You laugh, bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks. “There’s nothing in the world I find more attractive than you and your spit.”

Now, he lets out a gag and pulls a face at your words, “alright. Moods gone. You ruined it.” He shakes his head from your grip and pouts.

“Babyyyy,” you titter, grabbing and smushing his cheeks together while you nudge his nose. “There’s always a mood with you.”

“Yeah. And you constantly ruin it.”

true love waits

four | gojo's ghost hunting guide

seeing spectres? got a ghost problem? it seems Satoru Gojo has one of his own - one he doesn't want to get rid of

synopsis: full-time nerd turned part-time amateur ghost hunter, you've become Gojo's favorite occupation! living with a roommate is hard enough - let alone falling in love with your (un?)dead one!

pairing: nerdjo x ghost!Reader

content: mdni, angst and fluff and smut, oral sex (f! receiving), ghost GETTING head this time, roommates-to-lovers but one of them is dead lol, paranormal aspects ofc, fem reader, discussions of death, some darker themes but plenty of goofy gojo to go around, idiots falling in love, Geto being a skeptic, gojo is jealous and down atrociously bad

art by @chu-cho + divider by @petalpxl

Some things were sacred.

The faint taste of cherry chapstick that still cling to your lips. How delicately you'd interlace your fingers with his. The few seconds when he first wakes up in the morning, the fleeting moments where he could almost believe you were actually alive in his arms, hair tickling his face and your skin touching his skin.

So Gojo knew what he was holding was something holy.

To you, at least.

He hadn't meant to find it, a rare occasion where he wasn't even trying to be sneaky. Just struggling to clean out his closet while you were distracted by a new book he'd brought home in the living room, leaving you lounging on the couch, pages flipping on their own and the sound of your favorite song drifting down the hall. He was innocent for once, tossing clothes in the laundry basket and reorganizing shoes when he noticed the crooked floorboard, his fingers reaching out to see if it was properly secured just to discover how easily it could be pulled up.

And now?

He was trying his hardest not to open what very much appeared to be your diary, a familiar little heart drawn in the bottom corner of the cover.

You might actually kill him and send him straight to the afterlife if you discovered him with it.

Or even worse?

You might not even want to spend it with him anymore if you suspected he was snooping.

The stereo flipped off in the living room, and in a moment of panic, he was scrambling to fix the floorboard and stand up, shoving the small book into the bookbag hanging up in his closet. Dusting off his jeans and sliding into his desk chair right as the door creaked open.

"Hey," He nervously greeted, fiddling with his fingers as he felt your weight slide into his lap, wrists thrown around his neck before you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek, lips tracing over the pale scars there.

Gojo tried to kiss your lips, just to miss and press a soft peck to the tip of your nose instead, earning a tiny giggle that made his cheeks flush pink.

If you were striving off his attention, he was getting addicted to yours.

Every kiss, every touch, every little sound and flash of color he could make out made him long for more, his heart hollowed out like he could try to trap you inside it, let you live there instead.

The dreams we're getting stronger too, and if he was convinced before, he was certain now that it was you there with him, you occupying his sleep the same way you occupied his space.

He actually got to see you there, got to laugh and linger in the weird limbo, even if he rarely remembered more than bits of pieces the next day. The shape of your lips. The crinkle by your eyes.

Sometimes a story you'd tell him.

Never the beginning or the end, but the bits in between.

Gojo attempted to draw you from the scraps he could recall, but uh, he wasn't exactly an artist. The little frowny face you'd scribbled next to a bunch of question marks on the page beneath it proved that.

"Satoru," A voice softly spoke, and he jolted.

Eyes going wide, everything else forgotten as he squeezed your sides tight, trying to wrap his brain around it.

You said his name. And he heard it.

Little laughs and faint moans were one thing. But a full word? Your pretty voice calling out to him?

His pulse pounded in his eardrums, threatening to drown you out, his fingers slipped under the thin fabric of the shirt he couldn't see just to feel your skin underneath, to feel as close to you as possible.

"I heard that," He breathed, disbelief still shining in his eyes. "I heard you."

"R-really?" A quiet stammer, just as nervous and flustered as he was. Gojo rubbed his eyes, blinking a few times before slowly nodding.

"Yeah," He answered, and then he was standing up, picking you up with him and laughing like he heard the funniest joke in the world.

You were heavier than he expected - for a ghost, he meant. Not weightless, but as if he was actually lifting your body.

Gojo could be clueless, but thankfully, he at least knew better than to voice that and accidentally annoy you.

"Say something else," He requested, anxious excitement of his own bleeding through when he set you back down, shaky hands clumsily trying to caress your cheeks, dying to hear you speak again. "Anything."

"Satoru," You repeated, giddy and trying not to giggle this time, your hands reaching up to cup his face, accidentally bumping into his glasses. "I like you. A lot."

"I like you more."

And seriously, even a skeptic like Suguru would have to admit you existed when you could actually talk to him.

"Satoru," Geto sighed, cutting him a look that was more concerned than surprised. "It was kinda funny at first, but I think you should see a doctor."

"C'mon," Gojo groaned, half-dragging him down the hall to the front door of his apartment.

It was a spur of a moment thing, meeting up after his shift ended a couple days later to show Geto the diary and once again, ask for advice regarding his love life. Or, uh, could he still call it that if you weren't living?

Either way, Geto took the book from him and flicked through it, probably expecting Gojo's handwriting, or some other hoax. But whatever he saw just made Geto scowl, asking what the fuck was wrong with him before he threw the diary in his own bag before Gojo could ask for it back.

And somehow, in his instance that he wasn't making any of it up, he accidentally ended up inviting him over after dinner.

Geto's lips were pressed in a thin line, disappointed or in disbelief, but choosing not to comment as Gojo turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open.

The apartment was eerily silent.

Nothing on, no noises, curtains mostly drawn and long shadows cast across the the dim living room.

"Well," Suguru slowly said, letting out a second long sigh. "It's certainly creepy."

"Honey, can you come out? I want you to meet someone," Gojo called out, flipping on a lamp just for it to immediately turn back off. He laughed, like it wasn't, in fact, creepy, readjusting his glasses and wiping the sweat on his palms off on his shirt.

Were you upset? Or was this your idea of a joke?

Okay, he hadn't mentioned bringing Geto over, but he never considered you might mind.

"Please," He pouted, turning the lamp on again and glancing around the empty room. You tidied up while he was gone, all the books put up and a blanket nearly folded over the back of the couch. The lilies he'd bought for you died after a few days, but he was quick to replace them with fresh pink peonies instead (and actually buy a vase this time).

"Do you want the number for my therapist?" Geto deadpanned.

"She's real," Gojo insisted, and as if to prove his point, a book suddenly fell from the shelf, clattering loudly to the floor.

He could see the way Geto's brows were quick to cinch together, how his eyes squinted to slits as he searched for some clear string or mechanism to make it happen. But then the tv turned on, the remote floating as you started flicking through the channels, before tossing it back on the coffee table.

"Ha-ha," Geto dryly said. "Very funny. So how are you doing that?"

Then his jaw went tight, a flicker of surprise registering in his dark eyes, and Gojo guessed you were probably touching him, maybe grabbing his hand or poking him.

"He's not," You giggled, and Gojo noticed the fabric wrinkling on Geto's sleeve as if you were tugging on it. "I am."

He quickly realized bringing Geto over may have been a mistake.

And yeah, it was silly, and absolutely stupid, but you were his ghost, you were supposed to haunt him.

Not sit between the two of them on the couch and play a weird fucked-up version of twenty questions with Geto where you took turns answering questions about being dead - or alive.

He felt like a fucking idiot for not thinking of something like that sooner.

It didn't matter much though - you still passed on anything and everything personal.

How you died, if you had any family, only hesitantly offering your first name and age. The one you'd still be stuck at even when birthdays came and passed.

He did get confirmation you couldn't leave the apartment though. That you'd found yourself stuck here two years ago. How much you hated the tenant before him. That somehow the stuff that used to sap all your energy, like turning on the stereo or opening cabinets, was easy to do now.

In exchange, they tried to fill you in on modern events. Random bits of gossip or latest news stories. Gojo wondered if you wanted to ask about people you used to know, if there was someone out there who loved you that would kill for a chance to talk to you just one more time like this.

And all he discovered was just the thought of someone else having you, all of you, made his heart lurch, his stomach churn, every piece of him feel sick.

Even listening to Geto chuckle, to see his lips curl up in the same smirk that always made girls wilt and throw themselves at him, hearing your sweet voice speaking to someone else, that was already shitty enough.

But realizing he might never have even had a chance if you weren't confined here with him?

It fucking sucked.

His nervous chatter faded, folding his hands in his lap to keep from pushing up his glasses every second and feeling more like a ghost than you were.

But you noticed, your body brushing closer against his while you pried his hands apart to hold one. He had to look away, hoping you wouldn't notice how sweaty it was, that you wouldn't start wishing you lived with Geto instead of him.

What if you started thinking his rants were boring? What if you thought Digimon was immature compared to Geto's more tasteful interests?

Almost like you could sense his anxiety, you leaned in closer, and he felt your breath on his neck. Slow kisses trailing upward, canines scraping against his tendons until your mouth settled on his jaw. Reminding him where your affections still laid.

"Hey, Suguru," Gojo managed, squeezing your hand as he cleared his throat. "I'm pretty tired. Mind heading out? I'll call you tomorrow."

Technically-speaking, he was tired. Therefore, it wasn't a lie.

To be totally honest though?

He wanted your lips somewhere else. Wanted your nails raking down his shoulder blades and your warmth wrapped around him.

"Sure," Geto replied, meaning to push off the couch only to accident push off your leg instead, and you let out a cute little yelp while he chuckled. "Sorry, sweetheart."

Yeah, no, Gojo was never inviting Geto back.

There was no way in hell he was sharing you.

And you didn't mind, did you?

He could take care of you - great care of you even!

His palms spreading your thighs and pinning them down to the mattress, the small shorts and your underwear he couldn't see shoved aside so he could get a taste of you.

Dragging his tongue over your slit, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking softly while phantom fingers tugged and pulled at his hair. Getting tangled as you moaned his name, hips arching up off his bed.

"Taste so good, baby," He groaned, eagerly licking and lapping at you while his glasses fogged up.

Were you more sensitive like this?

It sure fucking seemed like it - every exploratory drag of his tongue made you whine and whimper.

Your thighs were tense, muscles twitching as you strained to close them together, squirming to get more friction when he dove in deeper. He'd been at it for half an hour, but he just couldn't seem to get enough.

His lips were glossy, slick with spit and you, but he was pretty sure he could live off of this, sustain himself on your kisses and your cunt.

"Satoru," You whined, and he released one of your thighs to shove two fingers inside instead, scissoring and stretching you out just to hear the strangled gasp escape your throat. Pretty little broken breathing, picturing what you might look like with your head thrown back against his pillow while he fingered you until you were begging to cum. "Please, ple-"

"Be my girlfriend," He huffed, like he wasn't knuckle deep and you weren't dead.

"Y-you know I-I," You were stuttering, but he didn't want the reminder of what you were probably going to say.

That he should probably find a living girl when all he wanted was you.

"Just say yes," He quietly murmured, returning to sucking on your clit while his fingers drove back in deeper, your walls squeezing at the soft plea of his voice.

"Alright," You weakly murmured, your voice strained. He was rutting against the bed, his cock already painfully close to cumming in his boxers as your thighs trembled under his touch. "I'm yours."

He didn't know who finished first.

Just that he'd do anything to finally fuck you.

Settling for snuggles underneath the sheets post-shower, damp hair sticking to his forehead while you fixed his glasses, your naked body resting on top of his.

Softly sighing, his arms wrapped around you, your fingers running over his scars like they were something you found beautiful.

Like he was something you found beautiful.

For the first night in months, he dozed off to a dreamless sleep. Eyes fluttering closed, just to crack them open to bright sunlight streaming into his room a handful of hours later.

Blinking a few times, brushing your hair back with a yawn, murmuring something half-incoherent that hadn't fully left his lips when he glanced down and saw you.

Actually saw you.

You hadn't noticed yet, your cheeks still squished against his chest, eyes closed. He wasn't sure if you could actually sleep, or if maybe it was still a matter of habit, like breathing or blinking.

Tentatively, he reached out, his fingers finding flesh, soft and sweet and his, although your form still flickered, almost translucent as he traced over your cheekbones.

"Good morning, pretty girl."

taglist: @fati27ma @soraairo @s-guru @shokosbunny @ssetsuka @deathofacupid @kayskow @pillkits @inoluvrr @baepsays @imm0rtalbutterfly @heartcam @littlenutmaestro @mia-can-yap-too @bbatzvil @sugarcoatedsoul @designerpvssy @gravity-valley @stellasloth @dostoevskyzz @aldebrana @lashaemorow @monstersholygrail @mai-505 @itsinherited @gojosprettyprincess @mimiluvzu2 @poopooindamouf @emochosoluvr @nina-from-317 @beautiful--macabre @gris3o @petalshxwer @oneirataxiaa @onixsky @flowerpot113 @ryuvies @anyx404 @herefor-tojis-tits @takethechai @miizuzu @entr4p3 @nonamebbsblog

this fic is one of the first I’ve read here and unsurprisingly my one of my favs 🥹💞 from the angst and the fluff, it’s just so well written, and the way the author write sukuna is what made me love him even more 🥹😭😭

I Love You, Always series m. list

I Love You, Always series m. list

Sukuna x Reader

Summary: In the midst of the crowds, I see no one but you. You’ve noticed this stranger every day. You see him when you go, and you see him when you return. At first glance he looks harmless, since his hair is pink and his face is smooth and clean, that is, until you see his nape and arms. He’s covered in tattoos. You know you should stay away but it seems like the universe keeps pulling you closer and closer to him. You want to know him. You’re curious about him and unfortunately, humans are attracted to the unknown. He’s bad news, but maybe it’s what you crave. He’s a beautiful disaster in your plain and boring life.

“I can’t tell if this is love between a man and a woman, a bond that has been built up for a long time, or the deep friendship that we share, but one way or another, I really loved you. More than I thought.”

Genre: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Status: ongoing

Warnings: fluff, smoking, angst, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, reader is half, smut, virgin, virginity loss, consensual sex, slow burn, alcohol consumption, heavy angst, drugs, non-canon, Sukuna is human, alternative universe, no jujutsu, minor mentions of other characters, oc characters, choppy story cuts, slow updates 18+

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CLICKING, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING THE CONTENT STATED IN WARNINGS.

Note: Sukuna is not written in canon LOL. He’s a gruff, edgy, soft little bastard in here. He’s not too soft, but he’s definitely not written as thee Ryomen Sukuna… let’s just enjoy this one for a bit… Let me dream, okay? Reader is half! Just wanted to say that I don’t write too often so my updates will be slow. This is a fanfic that I’ve had in my google drafts for a while, but I didn’t get too far into it so there’s not much written yet. However, I wanted to share it with you anyways! I hope you can enjoy the story in the end! I’m not very talented so if this fanfic isn’t your cup of tea, just keep rolling through. Thank you :)

Keep reading

I LOVE THIS SM 😩😭

has this been done yet

The art I KNEW i NEEDED ❤️‍🔥

This suits them so much—I stand by my belief that sukuna drives like max 🥺🤧

Gojo is so Ferrari-coded 🥹

ok wheres my f1 sukugo fic

STUCK WITH YOU - GOJO SATORU

summary. Gojo Satoru—strongest, cockiest, and, according to him, the hottest man alive—bows to no one. Until you came along and suddenly, he’s on his knees.

word count. 10.6k (i..dont know)

content. mdni fem! reader, zombie apocalypse au, violence, blood, pet names, satoru is a certified tease, cute banter because we love that here, they're so down bad for each other, smut, oral (fem rec.), p in v, loss of virginity (reader), breeding, creampie, soft satoru <3

author's note. i miss my man

The sky had been burning when the world ended.

You were fifteen—just a kid with scraped knees and a heart too big for the horrors it was about to witness. 

Sirens wailed through the streets, helicopters thundered above, and the sharp stench of smoke and decay clung to the air like death itself. One moment, your parents were urging you to run, voices trembling with fear. The next, everything shattered. A scream. Blood. The gurgled breath of something that wasn’t quite human anymore.

You had survived. Somehow. Alone.

But the cost of survival was everything.

-

The woods are silent, save for the crunch of your boots over frostbitten leaves. The moon hangs high above, pale and cold, casting everything in an unforgiving glow. You keep your knife gripped tight in one hand, the other cradling your growling stomach. It’s been three days since you last found anything remotely edible.

Every snap of a branch, every whisper of wind feels like a threat. Years alone have trained you to expect the worst.

Then you pause.

Smoke. Just a wisp of it in the air. You sniff again, slower this time. It's faint, but definitely there.

You move like a shadow, quiet and cautious, weaving through trees toward the scent. And then you see it:

A flickering campfire nestled in a hollow clearing, throwing gold and orange light onto the figures beside it. Two men. Asleep—at least, you hope they are. One is lying flat on the ground, the other propped against a log, limbs long and sprawled, a blindfold covering his eyes.

There’s food by the fire. Real food. Bread. Cans. Water.

You inch closer, heart hammering. It’s been years since you’ve seen other people. You don’t know if that makes this moment safer… or far more dangerous.

You creep into the circle of warmth, fingers itching toward the supplies. Just one thing. That’s all you need.

You barely breathe as you crouch beside the campfire, the heat brushing against your frozen skin like a long-forgotten comfort. Your fingers tremble as you reach for a loaf of bread—real bread—but just as your hand closes around it, your boot nudges something metallic.

CLANG.

The tin can hits the ground, and for a moment, silence swallows everything.

Then—movement.

You whip your head toward the two figures by the fire. One shoots upright in an instant, long-limbed and alarmingly fast. The other groans awake, slower, disoriented. You don’t even have time to run.

"Don't move," the taller one says—voice low, commanding. You meet his gaze and—holy hell.

Snow-white hair, cerulean eyes. He stands like someone who’s fought the world and won. His blindfold hangs around his neck, exposing everything. It's him—the one with the voice that makes your skin prickle and a face that doesn’t belong in this nightmare world.

"Well, well," he drawls, taking a step forward. "And here I thought we were the only pretty faces left."

You swallow, frozen. His companion grabs a weapon, steps forward too, more cautious.

"Who are you?" the second man demands.

The white-haired man’s eyes never leave yours. He smirks.

"She’s hungry. Look at her. Poor thing."

You clench your fists. You’ve survived too long to be pitied.

"Touch me and I swear to god—"

The man raises his hands, mockingly innocent.

"Easy, sweetheart. No one’s touching you… unless you want us to."

You scrunch up your face, disgusted and his grin widens just a little.

You lift your knife. “I don’t want trouble. I just need food.”

“I’d say knocking over our supplies in the middle of the night is kinda trouble,” the dark-haired one says. His hair is tied back, strands falling loose around his face, his grip on his weapon steady. “Who are you?”

You swallow thickly. It’s been so long since anyone’s asked you that. Your voice is hoarse. “Just someone trying to survive.”

The white-haired one takes a lazy step forward, hands raised in mock surrender.

“Chill, Suguru. She’s not here to kill us,” he says, and then turns back to you. “You got a name, mystery girl?”

You eye him warily. “…Why do you care?”

He grins. “Because mine’s Gojo Satoru. And this grumpy one is Suguru.”

Suguru rolls his eyes. “Don’t tell her our names, dumbass.”

But Gojo—Satoru, apparently—just shrugs, looking far too amused for someone who just woke up to a stranger trying to rob him.

Your fingers tighten on your knife. But something about him… those eyes… that voice…

“You really gonna stab the guy who might be your best chance at staying alive?” he asks, cocking his head. “Come sit. Eat. Or run. Up to you.”

Your stomach growls loudly.

Satoru grins wider. “That’s what I thought.”

You slowly lower your knife, but don’t put it away—not yet. Your eyes stay locked on them as you inch closer to the fire. The warmth should be a comfort, but your muscles are still taut, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.

Satoru sprawls back onto a log like he’s done this a hundred times. He’s still smiling—lazy, smug, like he’s enjoying this little show. Suguru doesn’t relax. He stays seated, but his eyes follow your every move, knife still held tight in his hand.

You kneel beside the fire, close enough to reach the food, far enough to lunge away if you need to. There’s a dented pot with some kind of stew, still warm, and a few pieces of bread wrapped in cloth.

“Help yourself,” Satoru says, waving a hand like he’s offering a royal feast. “We even warmed it up for you.”

You shoot him a glare but reach out cautiously, taking just a little. You sniff the stew first. Watch them.

“Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned,” Suguru says dryly.

“That’s what someone who poisoned it would say,” you mutter, tearing off a bite of bread.

Satoru snorts. “She’s got a mouth on her. I like her.”

You ignore that. Instead, you eat slowly, eyes flicking between them. They don’t move. Suguru keeps watch. Satoru lounges like this is the most interesting thing that’s happened all week.

“How long have you two been out here?” you ask finally.

“Long enough,” Suguru says, tone clipped.

"Too long," Satoru says, tossing a pebble into the fire like this is just another lazy night for him. "We move around, but we've got a base. Old prison, about twenty miles from here. You?"

You don’t answer right away.

“Alone,” you say after a beat. “I’ve been alone.”

The fire crackles between you.

Suguru’s gaze softens—just for a second. But Satoru’s smile stays.

“Well,” he says, stretching out his long legs, “you’re not alone anymore.”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m not staying.”

“Didn’t say you had to.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But something tells me you might not leave either.”

He’s not threatening. He’s just… certain.

You’re crouched by the fire, still tense, still not entirely trusting, when Satoru leans back on his hands, head tilted.

“You should come with us,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You’ll be safer.”

Your eyes flick to Suguru—he doesn’t hide the way his jaw clenches.

“She could be a liability,” Suguru mutters. “You don’t know her.”

“No,” Satoru agrees, grinning at you. “But I like her.”

Suguru sighs, deep and disapproving, but you see it—that soft flicker in his eyes that means he’s already given in.

Satoru turns back to you. “We’re heading out at first light. If you’re in, pack whatever you’ve got.”

You nod, hesitant. But, maybe… maybe this is the start of something.

-

A gentle nudge to your shoulder. Then a voice, light and annoyingly cheerful.

“Wake up, sleepyhead. Big day today.”

You blink awake to Satoru crouching beside you, white hair a wild halo against the rising sun. He grins.

“You snore, by the way.”

“I do not.”

“You do. It was cute.”

You groan, dragging a hand over your face. “Remind me why I agreed to come with you again?”

“Because I’m charming,” he beams. “Now come on. We've got a long way to go—and Suguru’s already in a mood.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe he wouldn’t be if you stopped talking.”

“Ohhh, savage!” he clutches his chest, stumbling back like you just stabbed him. “You wound me, stranger.”

You roll your eyes and sling your bag over your shoulder. “Not a stranger anymore, remember? You practically adopted me last night.”

Satoru grins, falling into step beside you. “True. You’re my problem now.”

“Joy,” you mutter, but your lips twitch despite yourself.

Suguru’s already waiting up ahead, arms crossed, brow arched like he’s already tired of this nonsense. “You two done flirting or should I keep walking?”

You open your mouth to protest, but Satoru gets there first.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Suguru.”

“I will leave you in the woods,” Suguru replies flatly.

“You’d miss me in an hour.”

“You wish.”

You stifle a laugh and glance between the two. “Are you always like this?”

Satoru flashes you a grin. “Buckle up, sweetheart. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

-

The trek through the forest had been relatively quiet—birds rustled above, trees whispering overhead, and Satoru talking your ear off. But midway through the journey, something shifts.

Suguru’s head tilts first, eyes narrowing at the faint crunch in the distance. Not a squirrel. Not a rabbit.

You hear it next.

Low. Guttural.

A hiss.

Then another.

They come from the trees. Slow at first—one stumbles into view, then two, then more. Rotting limbs. Glazed-over eyes. That sickening gurgle of hunger.

“Aw, shit,” Satoru grins like it’s a party. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

Suguru already has his blade drawn, calm as ever. “Don’t play around, Satoru.”

“No promises.” He rolls his shoulders, cracking his neck with a sharp tilt. “Time to impress the new girl.”

The first zombie lunges—and Satoru moves. A blur of motion, too fast to follow. The undead’s head twists unnaturally before it even hits the ground.

Suguru moves more fluidly—clean, precise slashes. No theatrics. Just deadly efficiency. His blade slices through two more, not even a drop of blood on him.

But they just keep coming.

Your heart pounds in your ears. Adrenaline surges. You’d been careful to avoid confrontation all these years, but this is different. You're not alone anymore. And you won’t be dead weight.

You draw your blade—sharpened scrap metal turned makeshift machete—and steady your breath.

One charges. You duck, spin, and drive the blade clean through its skull. Another reaches for you. You kick it back hard, burying your weapon in its chest before pulling it free with a grunt.

Satoru whistles low. “Well damn.”

“Focus,” Suguru mutters, cutting another down.

You move together now, three separate forces of destruction.

Satoru’s grinning like a madman, whirling and laughing with every kill. “You seeing this? She’s got bite!”

Suguru flicks blood off his blade. “You could take a lesson from her.”

Zombies litter the ground within minutes. The forest falls silent again—except for your panting breaths.

Satoru walks over, brushing blood off his cheek. “Well, that was fun. You good?”

You nod, chest still heaving. “Peachy.”

“Okay, badass,” he says with a grin, then nudges your shoulder playfully. “I take it back. You’re not just some lost little stray. You’ve got some claws.”

Suguru simply gives you a once-over, silent approval in his gaze.

You sheath your blade. “Told you I could handle myself.”

Satoru grins wider. “Yeah, and it was hot.”

-

The journey's been long, your legs aching from the endless trek, your guard never once lowered—not even with Satoru’s ridiculous jokes or Suguru’s unnervingly sharp eyes on you.

But when the trees begin to thin and the rusted silhouette of a massive abandoned prison looms ahead—walls towering, fences lined with jagged barbed wire, and lookout towers standing tall like watchful sentinels—you feel something you haven't in years:

Hope.

Gojo stretches lazily, like the walk didn’t faze him at all. "Home sweet hellhole," he grins. "Bet you weren’t expecting this kind of palace."

Suguru doesn’t say much, just gestures for you to follow. The guards on the watchtower whistle low when they see the trio approaching, and the gates creak open. Inside, the prison yard is alive—people bustling, fires burning in steel barrels, children laughing (actual children), and survivors moving with purpose.

You're stunned. You didn’t think this kind of order still existed.

A kid runs up to Gojo. “Satoru! You’re back!”

“Obviously,” he winks, tossing his jacket at the kid. “Miss me?”

You stare, wide-eyed.

“You’re like… respected here?”

“Terrifying, isn’t it?” Gojo deadpans. “Stick with me, newbie. I’ll show you the ropes. Maybe even let you survive.”

Suguru glances back, quiet for a moment. “Don’t get too comfortable. It’s safe, but it’s not paradise.”

Gojo leans closer to you as you're led through the gates.

“Don’t worry. If anything tries to eat you—aside from me—I’ll kill it.”

Your face burns and he just smirks like he’s got you all figured out.

“Aww, don’t get all shy, now. Where’d all that bite from earlier go?” he teases, voice low and entirely too smug.

You shove him with a scowl, cheeks still flaming. “Shut up, lecher.”

He stumbles back with a dramatic gasp, hand clutching his chest. “Lecher? Ouch. You wound me, sweetheart.”

Suguru sighs ahead of you. “Ignore him. He gets like this when he’s not punched often enough.”

Gojo just throws an arm around your shoulders, unbothered and still grinning. “Admit it, you missed human interaction.”

You glare up at him. “I missed silence.”

“Too bad,” he chirps, “you’re stuck with me now.”

You follow Gojo through the looming gates of the old prison turned fortress, the creak of rusted metal echoing off cold concrete walls. The place is… intimidating, but secure. High fences, makeshift watchtowers, guards with weapons patrolling like hawks. Survivors glance your way—curious, cautious—but no one approaches just yet.

“Well,” Gojo grins, throwing his arms out dramatically, “welcome to paradise, sweetheart.”

You shoot him a glare, but before you can answer, a voice calls out.

“Don’t call new recruits that, Gojo.”

A tall woman leans against the infirmary doorway, cigarette dangling between her fingers, lab coat stained with faded blood. She looks you up and down, then flicks ash to the ground with a sigh.

“Ieiri Shoko. I’m the doctor over here,” she says. “You look like hell.”

“…Thanks?”

“She means ‘you’ll fit right in,’” Gojo says brightly, nudging your shoulder. “She’s got a warm heart under all that… nicotine.”

Before you can respond, another figure approaches—sharp, calculating, blond hair swept neatly back and a stern face that reads no nonsense allowed.

“Nanami Kento,” he introduces himself. “I hope you know how to follow rules.”

You stiffen slightly. “Depends on the rules.”

Gojo chuckles. “Play nice, Nanamin. She’s new.”

“And she’ll stay alive longer if she learns structure.”

You barely have time to absorb that before someone barrels into the conversation like a human golden retriever.

“Gojo-sensei! You’re back!”

A pink-haired young man skids to a stop beside you, eyes wide with excitement. “Whoa—new person?! Hi! I’m Itadori Yuji!”

You blink, overwhelmed by the sudden burst of energy.

“Yuji,” Gojo sighs fondly. “Tone it down a little, yeah? She’s been through it.”

Yuji’s smile softens. “Right, sorry. Still—welcome. You hungry? We’ve got canned peaches! They’re not that bad if you hold your breath.”

A scoff cuts through the chaos.

“That’s how you welcome someone? ‘Peaches if you hold your breath’?”

You turn to see a girl with sharp eyes, short auburn hair, and a confident stance stroll up like she owns the place.

“Kugisaki Nobara,” she says, hand on her hip. “Don’t let the dumb smiles fool you—Yuji’s annoying, but he’s not dangerous. Usually.”

Yuji pouts. “Rude.”

And last, from the shadows near the barracks, a low voice.

“Don’t overwhelm her.”

A tall boy steps forward, dark hair, brooding expression. Cold eyes meet yours briefly before shifting away like he’s already bored of this interaction.

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

You blink. “Nice to meet you… all.”

“You’ll get used to the chaos,” Nobara says. “Eventually.”

Gojo’s grin widens, like a proud dad watching his weird little family.

“See? Told you you’d like it here.”

You’re not sure yet. But for the first time in years, you’re not alone.

-

The base is a repurposed prison, all concrete walls and rusted bars, but the way Gojo walks its halls, it might as well be a palace.

“Welcome to paradise,” he grins, pushing open a barred door that creaks like it’s complaining. “Don’t let the charming décor fool you. The rats love it here.”

You roll your eyes but follow him in. He gestures with a dramatic sweep of his arm. “Your very own cell—er, suite.”

The room is small, but clean. A bed shoved into one corner, a patched-up mattress, and even a chipped mirror on the wall. You nod, impressed despite yourself.

He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “I gave you the one with a window. You can thank me later.”

You smirk and step back out into the hallway. “Trying to impress me, Gojo?”

“Oh, absolutely. I’m a peacock in the apocalypse, baby.”

You laugh under your breath and follow him down a narrow hall. There’s a dip in the concrete, a crack in the floor you don’t notice until your boot catches—your heart jumps as you pitch forward, but Gojo’s arms are immediately around you.

Strong. Steady. Warm.

“Careful now,” he murmurs, voice all silk and smugness. “You fell for me already?”

You’re pressed against his chest, your breath caught in your throat, face heating up. He doesn’t move right away—his hands settle on your waist, casual and intimate in a way that makes your stomach flip.

You shove him off with a flustered glare. “Shut up, lecher.”

He grins, wide and infuriating. “That’s more like it.”

The rest of the tour is quieter. You pass rooms where others sleep, the mess hall, the infirmary where Shoko’s set up shop. You even glimpse Yuji hauling supplies with Nobara snapping at him in the distance.

But then Gojo stops in front of a heavy iron door—no windows, no markings. His face changes. The joking fades.

“Whatever you do,” he says, voice low, “don’t go into the commissary. Not alone. Not ever.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden seriousness.

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. His blue eyes sharpen beneath his snowy lashes.

“Because even monsters like us keep our secrets somewhere,” he says softly. “And some doors are locked for a reason.”

You stare at him, heart knocking against your ribs.

Gojo Satoru, unshakable, untouchable… looking haunted?

Your skin prickles.

But he flashes you that lazy grin again, like nothing happened. “Now come on. You haven’t seen the courtyard. Yuji likes to wrestle people out there—it’s horrible. You’ll love it.”

And just like that, the moment passes… but the warning stays.

-

The rooftop’s quiet late at night.

The chaos of the base fades into a hush, just the distant hum of wind brushing over cracked cement and rusted fences. You lie back against the cool surface, arms behind your head, eyes fixed on the sky above. For once, it’s clear. A spatter of stars gleam like glass shards across a velvet sky.

You let yourself breathe.

No infected. No screaming. No fear.

Just the stars.

Footsteps approach—light, familiar, cocky.

“I knew you were a stargazer,” Gojo says, easing himself down beside you with a dramatic sigh. “You’ve got that dreamy, melancholic look. So poetic.”

You don’t look at him. “You’ve got that annoying, uninvited energy. So parasitic.”

He barks out a laugh. “Ow. You wound me, sweetheart.”

A beat passes. Then another.

You can feel him watching you, but for once, he doesn’t speak.

And somehow, that’s more unsettling.

“…You alright?” you ask, finally glancing his way.

He’s leaning back on his elbows, white hair messy from the wind, blue eyes locked on the stars—but they’re distant. Quiet. A far cry from their usual teasing glint.

“I’m heading out tomorrow,” he says casually. “Scouting mission. Few days tops.”

You blink. “Oh.”

Something flickers in your chest. It shouldn’t. Not like this.

“Oh,” you repeat, softer. “Right.”

A part of you wants to ask why he’s going. Another part wants to pretend it doesn’t matter. You settle for neither, chewing your lip, trying to ignore the weight settling in your gut.

Satoru glances at you then, his smirk lazy but his voice just a touch softer.

“Try not to miss me, yeah?”

You scoff. “I’ll throw a party the second you leave.”

“That’s what they all say,” he murmurs, leaning just a little closer. “Then they realize how boring life is without me.”

His smile is all mischief—but behind it, there’s something warmer. Something real.

And for once… you don’t fire back. You just look at him.

Maybe you’ll miss him a little. Just a little.

-

You don’t expect his absence to linger. But it does.

You feel it in the small silences—the way the mess hall feels quieter without his dumb jokes echoing through it, how sparring sessions feel colder without him barging in with some smug, offhanded comment about your form.

At night, you find yourself back on the rooftop. The stars are still there, but they don’t sparkle like they used to. It’s stupid, you tell yourself, because what kind of person starts depending on a man like that?

He’s loud. He’s infuriating. He teases you relentlessly.

But… he saw you. When you thought no one ever would again.

Shoko notices the way you’ve been spacing out more. She doesn’t say anything until the third night.

“You okay?”

You nod. Too quickly. “Fine.”

She squints at you. “You’re not fine. You’re moping.”

“I’m not moping.”

She clicks her tongue. “Acting like someone’s girlfriend.”

You nearly knock your cup over. “I’m not—!”

But you don’t finish that sentence. Because the words feel too close to something you’ve been avoiding.

You try to bury it—tell yourself it’s just concern. You’re just… grateful. It’s not like that. You don’t miss his stupid smirk or the way he always stands too close just to fluster you. You don’t care about how his hair always looks so damn soft, or how his voice drops a little when he’s serious with you.

You don’t.

You don’t.

Then the whispers start.

“No signal from the scouting team.”

“They were supposed to be back by now.”

A cold chill snakes down your spine.

You start going to the gate more. Just to check. You pretend it’s coincidence.

It’s not.

You catch yourself gripping the straps of your bag harder than usual. You’ve never hated waiting so much in your life.

Until one evening—

The gates finally creak open.

Your breath catches in your throat as the guards call out a name. Several figures walk through the archway, dust and blood clinging to their clothes.

And there he is.

White hair, blue eyes. One sleeve ripped off, a gash on his collarbone, dried blood staining his neck—but he’s alive.

“Satoru,” you whisper, already walking forward.

His eyes find yours instantly. That grin pulls at his lips like it never left.

“Aww, did you miss me?”

You don’t answer. You just hit his shoulder. “Idiot.”

But then your hands linger, and before you can stop yourself, you’re pulling him into a tight hug.

He stiffens, just for a second. Then his arms slide around you, strong and warm.

“Try not to cry too hard,” he mutters, voice light—but there’s something tight beneath it.

“I hate you,” you mumble into his shirt.

“Sure you do,” he chuckles, and when you pull back, his smile softens.

You don’t know what this feeling is. Or maybe you do. You just don’t want to name it yet.

But you know this: You’re glad he came back.

And for now, that’s enough.

-

You wander the halls of the prison alone, the hum of fluorescent lights above your head flickering inconsistently. Satoru had taken the kids out back for training, and with nothing to do and no one to bother you, you figured you’d finally explore the rest of the base.

The place was massive—too massive. Each cell block looked like the next, corridors looping endlessly into each other until your curiosity outweighs your sense of direction. One door, rusted and slightly ajar, catches your eye.

You should’ve turned around.

You push it open.

Inside is dark, dusty. Shelves line the walls, broken crates and old rations tossed everywhere. You wander deeper, hesitant but unaware. That is…until it hits.

The smell.

Rotting flesh, stagnant air, the thick, unmistakable stench of death.

And then—movement.

Shuffling. A low groan. Shadows twitch. A hand smacks against a shelf and knocks it over with a crash.

They're here.

Your eyes snap wide and panic sets in instantly. There are so many.

You run.

You shove a metal shelf in their path, throw an old stool, anything you can get your hands on to slow them down. Your breaths are shallow, desperate. But just as you near the exit—

Your ankle gives out.

A sick snap, searing pain, and you crash to the floor with a cry. You scramble backward, pressing yourself against the wall, using your good leg to kick anything that comes close.

This is it. This is it.

You squeeze your eyes shut, heart pounding.

Gunshots.

The sound like thunder crashing right next to your ear.

You blink up, barely processing the white blur tearing through the undead like paper.

“I told you not to go in here!” he shouts, voice slicing through the chaos.

“Satoru—!”

The zombies turn just in time for Satoru to drive his fist into the nearest one’s chest, cracking bone and sending it flying back into the others like bowling pins.

“Seriously?” he growls, stepping in front of you, his broad back shielding your crumpled form. “I leave you alone for five minutes.”

One lunges from the side. Gojo ducks effortlessly, grabs it by the throat, and slams it into the ground so hard its skull splits open on impact. Another claws at his shoulder, but he just grabs its wrist, twists, and kicks out its knee in one brutal motion. It collapses, and he doesn’t even look as he drives a sharp piece of wood through its head.

And then—you're in his arms. Just like that.

Lifted effortlessly, pressed against his chest as he strides out of the hellhole.

You cling to him, trembling.

“I didn’t know it was the commissary,” you whisper between sobs. “I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know—I just—God, I’m so sorry, Gojo, I—”

His voice is low, firm, but gentle. “Hey. Breathe. I’ve got you.”

You look up at him, lip quivering. “I—I made you worry…”

“Yeah, you did,” he says with a wry little smirk, but his eyes are too soft, too relieved to match it. “Don’t ever do that again, got it?”

You nod.

“Good,” he murmurs, brushing a sweaty strand of hair from your face. “Because if I lost you... I’d have to kill the rest of the world just for pissing me off.”

Your breath hitches.

You stare up at him, heart pounding, face flushed from more than just the sprint for your life.

“W-What kind of psycho logic is that?” you mutter, trying to deflect, your voice barely steady.

Satoru smirks down at you, still holding you effortlessly in his arms like you weigh nothing. “C’mon, don’t act so surprised. I’m dramatic, haven’t you noticed?”

“You’re insane,” you whisper, trying not to combust under his gaze.

“And you’re blushing,” he points out smugly, nose nearly brushing yours. “Kinda cute, actually.”

You twist in his hold, hiding your face against his shoulder. “Shut up,” you mumble, voice muffled.

He laughs softly, the sound vibrating through your chest. “Can’t. Teasing you is the only thing keeping me sane these days.”

You can feel the tension slipping away, replaced by something heavier, warmer. He lowers you gently onto a nearby bench just outside the danger zone, kneeling before you like it’s second nature, hands skimming your calves as he examines your ankle again.

When he looks up this time, his expression is different. Less playful. More raw.

“I meant it, you know,” he says quietly. “You scared the hell out of me in there.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” he cuts in, hand brushing yours. “But next time, brat, wait for me. No solo adventures.”

Your lips twitch. “You’re calling me a brat now?”

“Borrowing the title. Think I earned it after saving your ass.”

You huff a laugh, cheeks still warm. “…Thanks.”

His grin softens. “Anytime.”

And just like that, you both sit there—his fingers still wrapped gently around your hand, his thumb rubbing absent circles over your knuckles—as the adrenaline fades and something else takes its place. Something quieter. Heavier. Charged.

-

Satoru insists on carrying you the whole way to the infirmary, ignoring your every protest.

“This is unnecessary,” you mutter, burying your face in his shoulder to avoid every curious glance.

“You twisted your ankle and almost got mauled. Humor me,” he says, smug but gentle, like the two can coexist in him with ease.

He kicks open the infirmary door with his foot.

“Delivery for one idiot who wandered into a no-go zone,” he calls out casually.

Shoko looks up from her desk, raising a brow at the sight of you both. “Well, well. If it isn’t the base’s golden boy and his damsel in distress.”

“I wasn’t distressed,” you blurt out instantly, wiggling in Gojo’s hold.

“Oh?” she hums, amused. “You sure? Because I could’ve sworn I heard ‘Gojo! Help!’ from all the way down the hall.”

You splutter. “That’s not— I mean—”

“Loudly,” she adds with a pointed smirk.

Satoru just laughs and sets you down on one of the cots, his hand lingering a little longer than necessary on your back before stepping aside.

“She’s fine. Just the ankle,” he says. “But maybe check if she sprained anything else. She fell pretty hard.”

Shoko moves closer, completely ignoring the medical part for now, because she’s too focused on watching the both of you squirm.

“Ohhh,” she teases, eyes sparkling. “Look at the two of you. Cute. Almost like a couple.”

You and Satoru freeze at the exact same time.

“Nope!” “Not a couple!” “Definitely not!”

You shoot each other a panicked glance and then immediately look away, flustered messes in stereo.

Shoko snorts. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

You glare. “Can we just focus on my ankle now?”

“Fine, fine,” she drawls, clearly enjoying herself. “Just sayin’. Wouldn’t be the worst match. You get saved, he gets to play hero. Very fairytale.”

“I hate all of this,” you mutter under your breath, while Satoru just smiles to himself, unbothered but definitely pleased.

When Shoko starts wrapping your ankle, he leans against the wall with his arms crossed, watching.

And you swear you see it—that tiny, knowing glint in his eyes.

Like he wants her to say it again.

Because maybe, just maybe… he doesn’t mind the idea.

-

It’s later that night when there’s a knock at your door. You’ve barely had time to settle in, still awkwardly hobbling around on one foot with your bandaged ankle.

“Who is it?” you call.

“It’s your favorite,” comes the unmistakable voice from the other side.

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the tiny smile tugging at your lips. “Didn’t know Nanami suddenly got chatty.”

A muffled chuckle. “Ha. Hilarious. Open up.”

You limp to the door and unlock it. Satoru is standing there, a little disheveled, hands full.

“Brought you dinner,” he says casually, holding out a tray with two mismatched bowls, steam still curling from the soup. “Figured you might be tired of Shoko’s painkillers and snark.”

You blink, caught off guard. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” he says dramatically, stepping in without being invited. “That’s what makes me so noble.”

You laugh despite yourself, and he grins like that was the goal all along. He sets the tray down on your little desk, then gestures toward your bed.

“Come on, sit. Can’t have you falling over again. One near-death experience per day is my limit.”

You sit, trying not to look too charmed when he settles next to you—close, but not too close—just enough for your knees to brush.

“I still feel terrible about earlier,” you say after a moment, poking at the edge of your bowl. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“You didn’t worry me,” he says too quickly, too nonchalantly.

You glance up. “Liar.”

He sighs and leans back on his hands, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Fine. Maybe I panicked a little. Sue me.”

A silence lingers, not uncomfortable. Just… warm.

Then, softer: “Don’t do that again, okay?”

You look at him, really look at him—the shadows under his eyes, the slight dip in his brow, the way his voice softens when it’s just you and him.

And something in your chest stirs. Something that’s been creeping in, slow and steady, ever since he offered you food by a fire that first night.

You nod. “I won’t.”

He glances over, catches your gaze—and doesn’t look away this time.

There’s something unspoken passing between you. Familiar. Intense. Safe.

“You’re really something, y’know that?” he murmurs.

You raise a brow. “That supposed to be a compliment?”

He smirks. “Depends. You gonna fall harder for me if it is?”

You flush instantly. “Satoru—”

He laughs and nudges your bowl toward you. “Eat before it gets cold, princess.”

You grumble under your breath but dig in.

And Satoru?

He watches you with that same lopsided grin, heart doing something stupid in his chest.

Because yeah—maybe you fell.

But maybe he’s been falling, too.

-

It’s past midnight when you stir.

The pain in your ankle has dulled to a throb, but it isn’t what wakes you. It’s… something else. A presence. Warm. Close.

You blink against the low glow of the hallway light seeping under your door, and when your eyes adjust—

You see him.

Satoru.

Slouched in the chair by your bed, long legs awkwardly folded, head tipped to the side, snowy hair falling across his face in soft, messy tufts. His mouth is slightly parted, breathing slow and even. His arms are crossed, like he hadn’t meant to fall asleep there.

Like he was just keeping watch.

Just in case.

Your heart does a little flip.

You shift quietly, trying not to make a sound. But even with all your care, the mattress creaks—barely. His eyes snap open immediately, hand twitching toward a weapon that isn’t there. Pure instinct.

Then he sees you. And relaxes.

“Oh,” he breathes, voice gravelly with sleep. “You’re awake.”

You sit up slowly. “Were you… here all night?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Not all night. Just since… y’know. Evening.”

You squint at him. “Satoru.”

He sighs. “Fine. Yeah. All night.”

You stare at him. “Why?”

He shrugs, suddenly sheepish. “Wanted to make sure you didn’t wander off again and get yourself eaten.”

You frown. “You should’ve slept in your room.”

He smirks. “What, and miss out on babysitting you?”

You chuck a pillow at him.

He catches it easily and grins. But when he sees you holding his gaze, that grin softens.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he admits, quieter now.

Something gentle settles in your chest. You pull your blanket up and scoot slightly to the side.

“…There’s space. If you’re tired.”

He blinks at you. “Are you asking me to cuddle, orrrr…”

You glare. “I’m offering you a more comfortable sleeping arrangement.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

He slides in beside you carefully, so carefully, like you’ll break if he jostles you too much. And then you feel the warmth of him next to you, his presence steady and solid and safe.

“…This okay?” he murmurs, his voice a whisper in the dark.

You nod.

And slowly, slowly, you feel his fingers brush yours under the blanket. He doesn't hold your hand—not yet. Just touches.

Testing the waters.

You don’t pull away.

And in the silence that follows, you hear his breathing even out again.

But yours?

Yours is all over the place.

-

Morning sunlight filters through the barred window, casting soft stripes across your face.

You're warm. So warm.

Your cheek is pressed against something solid. Something that rises and falls gently beneath you. And there’s a hand resting at the small of your back, pulling you closer, keeping you there.

Your heart skips.

Your eyes blink open—and there he is.

Gojo Satoru. Asleep. Face relaxed and serene, messy white hair haloed in gold light. His other arm is curled under your pillow, supporting your head like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And you're lying on top of him.

Your breath catches in your throat.

You should move. You need to move.

But just as you're about to untangle yourself—

Click.

The door creaks open.

You freeze.

“Oh my god,” comes Shoko’s voice, casual, amused, and way too smug. “Well, well—what do we have here?”

You nearly leap out of bed, scrambling to sit up—only for your body to protest painfully, and you wince with a hiss.

Satoru wakes with a start, blinking up at Shoko in confusion before slowly realizing the position you're in.

“Oh,” he says blankly. “Morning, doc.”

You swat his shoulder. “Say something useful?!”

Shoko just leans against the doorway, arms crossed, grinning like she’s discovered the world’s juiciest secret. “No no, don’t let me interrupt. I was just checking on the patient, but clearly, she’s in very good hands.”

You’re burning. “It’s not what it looks like!”

Shoko raises a brow. “Oh, so you weren’t cuddled up like two lovebirds all night? Should I tell Nanami you’ve finally found someone willing to put up with your nonsense, Satoru?”

He stretches lazily and pulls the blanket back over himself with a smirk. “Actually, yeah. Tell him. Maybe then he’ll finally stop lecturing me about responsibility.”

You groan and bury your face in your hands. “I’m never going to live this down.”

Shoko chuckles, walking away. “Nope. I’m telling everyone.”

The door clicks shut behind her.

Silence.

You glare at Satoru through your fingers. “This is your fault.”

He grins. “You offered me a spot on the bed, your majesty.”

You shove a pillow at him. He catches it—again.

And then he smiles, soft and teasing, voice still a little raspy from sleep.

“...So. Want me to sleep over again tonight?”

“Get out.”

-

The first few days are rough.

You try to walk without limping. Try to reach for things on your own. Try not to feel like a burden.

But then there’s him.

You wake up to warm food at your bedside, Satoru leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin. “Brought you breakfast in bed, sweetheart. Don’t get used to it—I’m not always this nice.”

He very much is.

He offers his arm without asking when you need support. Doesn’t mention it when you wince or grit your teeth. Just lets you lean on him, like you’ve always belonged there.

You try to carry something heavy across the hall—he appears out of nowhere, snatching it from your hands. “Tsk. You trying to die or what?”

You try to help in the kitchen. He catches you wobbling and swoops in with a hand around your waist. “Whoa there, Bambi. What happened to ‘taking it easy’?”

You try to sneak off to explore the base again. He corners you in the hallway with a look that says absolutely not. “You’re still healing, brat. Unless you want me to carry you everywhere again?”

Cue your entire face combusting.

He’s annoying. Cocky. Ridiculously persistent.

But…

He adjusts your blanket when you’re asleep on the couch. Tucks a water bottle by your side without saying anything. Teaches you how to balance properly on one foot so your ankle can recover without straining the other.

And at night, when you think everyone’s asleep, you catch him checking on you—quietly, carefully. Making sure you’re okay.

You pretend not to notice.

But your heart notices. It notices everything.

-

You stand in the middle of your room, shifting your weight onto your healed ankle, then back again. No pain. No tightness. Just a deep breath and the quiet realization:

You’re better. Finally.

The door creaks open without warning—because Satoru never knocks—and in he strolls with his usual swagger and two mugs in hand. “Morning, sweetheart. Brought you—"

He stops in his tracks.

You’re standing. Not limping. Not clutching the edge of the bed for balance.

Just… standing.

He squints, slowly lowering one mug. “...Why aren’t you in bed?”

You raise a brow. “Because I’m not dying?”

“Oh no. Absolutely not.” He sets the mugs down and points a very offended finger at you. “You don’t just get to get better without warning me. I was emotionally invested in this arc.”

You laugh. “Sorry to ruin your Florence Nightingale fantasy.”

“Ruin? Excuse you, I was thriving. Who’s gonna let me spoon-feed you now?”

You roll your eyes, limping toward him just to mess with him. “I could pretend, if it makes you feel better.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

He walks over before you can say anything else—his hands hover, cautious at first, then one slides to your waist. “You really okay?”

You nod. “I’m good. Really.”

Satoru lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Then he grins. “Alright. Guess that means I can stop being your personal nurse and go back to being your favorite nuisance.”

You’re smiling. He’s back to teasing. But there’s a softness in his eyes that lingers a little too long, a thumb that brushes your hip before falling away.

He missed taking care of you.

And maybe, just maybe, you kind of miss being taken care of.

-

You’re jogging laps around the edge of the prison yard, the early morning chill nipping at your cheeks. It’s peaceful—quiet enough that your footsteps and the rhythmic beat of your breath are the only sounds you hear.

Until a familiar voice breaks through the silence.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite brat, back in action.”

You slow down, a smirk tugging at your lips as you turn toward the voice—and promptly choke on air.

Satoru.

Stretching.

Shirtless.

His snowy hair tousled from whatever ungodly workout he’s been doing, sweat gleaming on the hard lines of his chest and abs like the universe conspired to craft a Renaissance painting just to spite you. His sweats hang low on his hips, revealing that infuriating V-line that should not be legal in a post-apocalyptic society.

You blink. Once. Twice.

He grins, catching the way your eyes are very not subtly stuck on him.

“Like what you see?”

You scowl, instantly turning your gaze to a very fascinating patch of dirt on the ground. “Please. I’ve seen better.”

“Mmhm.” He takes a deliberate step forward, arms crossing over his annoyingly perfect chest. “Name one.”

“...”

“That’s what I thought.”

You huff and start jogging again, forcing your eyes to stay forward. But then he jogs up beside you—shirtless and smug, of course—and easily matches your pace.

“You sure you’re fully healed? What if you, I dunno… trip and fall again?” he says, tone mockingly sweet. “Need me to catch you, princess?”

“I’d rather faceplant into a zombie.”

He laughs, low and lazy. “I dunno, that sounds painful. Better to land on something soft. Like me.”

You glare at him, cheeks burning. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet,” he nudges you playfully with his elbow, “you’re still jogging next to me. Who’s really winning here?”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth crawling up your neck. But deep down, you know.

He’s definitely winning.

-

After the jog, Satoru insists you “cool down” with some light sparring. You roll your eyes, but follow him to the training mats anyway. He’s already bouncing on his heels when you step in front of him, still shirtless, still smug.

“You sure you’re up for this?” he teases. “Wouldn’t want to break you again.”

“I’m more worried about bruising your ego,” you shoot back, taking your stance.

He whistles low. “Feisty. I like it.”

The sparring begins—light jabs, easy dodges. You’re nimble, focused, but he is... effortless. Every time you swipe at him, he ducks with a grin. When you go in for a kick, he sidesteps and lets out an exaggerated yawn.

“You done yet, sweetheart?” he asks, still dancing around you. “At this rate, I could do this blindfolded.”

“Shut up and hold still!” you lunge at him again—this time faster, bolder—but he grabs your wrist mid-swing and spins you around so fast the world tilts. Before you know it—

You’re pinned.

Back hits the wall. His hand holds your wrists above your head, other arm braced beside you. His body is dangerously close, breath fanning your cheek. His tone shifts, deeper. Rougher.

“You keep mouthing off like that,” he murmurs, eyes gleaming, “I might start thinking you want me to put you in your place.”

Your breath catches. “I—”

“Hmm?” he leans in, lips ghosting your jaw. “No witty comeback now?”

You try to move, but his grip tightens just slightly. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind you that this isn’t a game anymore.

“I could kiss you right now,” he whispers, “and there’s nothing you could do about it.”

Your heart hammers in your chest. “You wouldn’t.”

He smiles. Slow. Dangerous.

“Wanna bet?”

Your breathing is shallow, heat rising to your cheeks. You’re acutely aware of how close he is, the way his chest brushes against yours with every breath, the sharp glint in his eye, the smirk that’s far too smug for your sanity.

And then—

His lips graze your neck. Barely there. A soft brush of heat against your skin. You flinch—not out of fear, but from the jolt that shoots down your spine. Goosebumps bloom instantly. His breath tickles your skin.

“Sensitive,” he hums, lips ghosting up toward your jaw, “...cute.”

“Satoru—” you whisper, voice barely audible.

He pulls back just enough to look at you. His gaze drops to your lips, heavy and unblinking. And he leans in, slower this time, like he wants you to feel the anticipation. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat—

And then—

“AM I INTERRUPTING SOMETHING?”

You both jolt like you’ve been electrocuted.

Satoru spins around with a groan, still caging you against the wall. “Shoko. Seriously?”

She stands a few feet away, arms crossed, one brow cocked and a wicked smirk playing at her lips. “Wow. Could cut the tension with a scalpel. Should I come back later or just pass you a condom now?”

“Shoko,” you squeak, face on fire, squirming to escape Gojo’s hold.

He lets you go reluctantly, chuckling under his breath. “You wish you caught the good part.”

“I did catch the part where your face was buried in her neck like a starving vampire,” Shoko deadpans.

You bury your face in your hands.

Satoru just laughs. “You jealous?”

“Please. I'd rather not watch my coworkers dry hump in public,” she says, already turning on her heel. “Anyway. You two lovebirds done? I need one of you to help with supplies.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gojo waves her off. Then he glances back at you, still all flushed and flustered, and leans down one last time to whisper in your ear:

“To be continued, princess.”

And just like that, he strolls off like nothing happened.

You're left against the wall, heart pounding, neck tingling, completely and utterly undone.

-

It’s quiet for once.

Most of the clan is out on a supply run or patrolling the perimeter. You’d offered to stay behind, helping Shoko reorganize her medical supplies before wandering off with a basket of laundry—warm clothes folded under your arm as you pace the empty corridors of the prison, barefoot, relaxed.

You finally set the basket down in the communal quarters, humming under your breath while sorting through what belongs to who. It’s… peaceful. The late afternoon sun slants in through the high windows, bathing everything in warm light.

Until—

“Picking up where we left off?”

You jolt, nearly dropping the shirt in your hands.

Gojo.

Leaning against the doorframe, casual as ever, sleeves pushed up, hair a bit messy like he just woke from a nap. His eyes are glinting beneath the lazy droop of his lashes, and that smirk—that godforsaken smirk—is unmistakable.

He saunters in before you can get a word in.

“Geez, you sneak up on people like a damn ghost,” you mumble, cheeks already burning as you turn back to the laundry.

“Aw, don’t be shy now,” he teases, coming closer. “You weren’t so shy when I had you pinned against the wall.”

You stiffen. “You got interrupted. Big difference.”

“Oh? So you wanted me to kiss you?”

You glare at him over your shoulder, but he’s already behind you, arms slipping around your waist—loosely at first, giving you a chance to push him away.

You don’t.

“I was thinking about you,” he murmurs against your ear. “All damn day. Thought I’d come see how you were holding up without me.”

“I was fine,” you huff, but it’s so breathless it betrays you instantly.

He chuckles. “That right?”

His hands glide up your sides, slow and sure, fingertips teasing the hem of your shirt. “C’mon, sweetheart. Just admit it—you missed me.”

You turn in his arms, glaring—but it’s weak at best. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Maybe,” he leans in, forehead brushing yours, voice dropping, “but I still remember how fast your heart was beating last time.”

You swallow.

And this time? There’s no Shoko to walk in. No patrols due back. No reason to stop.

You hesitate for a beat.

And then you pull him in by the collar.

The kiss is feral. All teeth and tongue and breathless gasps. Weeks—months—of tension snapping all at once. His hands find your waist, gripping tight as he hoists you up like you weigh nothing.

“Fuck—” he groans against your lips. “You’ve been killing me, y’know that?”

You wrap your legs around his waist and tug him closer. “Good.”

He pulls back, grinning. “Oh, you wanna play it like that?”

You don’t get a chance to answer before he’s kissing down your jaw, your neck, dragging that maddening tongue of his down your collarbone. His hands are everywhere—palming your hips, your thighs, sliding under your shirt like he owns you.

Which, at this point, maybe he does.

“Tell me to stop,” he pants, hovering over your lips again. “Tell me now, and I will.”

You look him dead in the eyes, tug his shirt over his head, and whisper:

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Your back hits the nearest wall with a muffled gasp, Satoru’s mouth already on yours, hungry and hot. His hands roam your body like he’s memorizing it with touch alone, fingers tugging at fabric with a frustrated groan.

“Off,” he growls into the kiss, already pulling your shirt over your head like it's offended him. He sets you down to pull your pants down along with your panties. And the moment you’re bare before him, he stands back, breath catching in his throat. His eyes—icy blue and blown wide with lust—roam your figure, landing on your chest like he’s just been given the meaning of life.

“…Can I motorboat your tits?”

You blink.

You laugh, startled and breathless. “Are you—are you serious right now?”

His lips curve into a wolfish grin, and he’s already surging forward to kiss you again. “Maybe next time,” he mumbles between kisses. “I don’t think I can wait to taste you now.”

You arch a brow, teasing, breath catching when he trails his mouth down your jaw. “Next time?”

He chuckles, low and dark. “You think I’m letting you off the hook after this?” His hands slide down your waist, thumbs stroking your hips. “Nah, sweetheart. I’m gonna ruin you.”

Then he sinks to his knees.

The grin fades into something hungrier, more reverent as he kisses the inside of your thigh, dragging his teeth gently across soft skin. “Spread ‘em for me,” he says, voice a whisper but firm. And when you do, he groans like he’s just tasted something forbidden.

You cry out the second his tongue touches you, hands flying to grip his hair. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t want to. It’s slow, torturous—his pace deliberate as he works you open, devouring like a man starved. His moans vibrate against your skin, and when your legs tremble, he just pins them open wider, groaning, “That’s it… let me hear you, baby.”

Your back arches as Satoru licks another slow, devastating stripe up your core, tongue curling at your entrance before he moves to suck gently on your clit. Your fingers tighten in his hair, thighs instinctively trying to close around his head—but his arms loop under your knees, spreading you wider, holding you open like he owns you.

“You're not going anywhere,” he mutters, eyes flicking up, glazed over with lust and something dangerous. “Told you. I’m gonna ruin you.”

Then he’s back at it—slower this time, tongue flattening against you, then circling, dragging soft groans out of you as the tension coils tight in your belly. He eats you out like he’s trying to memorize the taste of you, savoring every movement, every moan he draws. He alternates between deep, dragging strokes and sharp, teasing flicks, lips closing around your clit to suck just hard enough to make your breath hitch.

You cry out, hips bucking up into his mouth, and he growls—low and throaty—as if turned on by how wrecked you already are.

"Fuck—so sweet," he groans, voice muffled against you. “Could stay down here all night.”

And he means it. He shifts slightly, tongue plunging into you now, slow and shallow, nose nudging your clit as he drinks in every sound you make like it fuels him. Every little tremble, every whimper—he devours it.

He doesn’t stop. Not when you start trembling, not when you whine his name in warning. He keeps going, lips slick and relentless, until—

Your vision whites out. Your body tightens, back bowing, mouth falling open on a silent scream as you fall over the edge, pleasure shattering through you like a storm.

Only then does he pull back, lips and chin glistening. He breathes hard, eyes dark and blown, grinning like he just won a war.

“That’s the sound I wanted to hear.”

He stands up again to pick you up, carrying you to the nearby table, settling you on it, completely bare under the low light, legs parted slightly, chest heaving. You’re flushed, trembling—not from fear, but anticipation. Nerves. Heat. It’s all crashing together in your head, and he sees it.

His hands move to his waistband, fingers curling beneath the fabric of his pants. He tugs them down with practiced ease, freeing himself—and your breath catches.

Your eyes drift down instinctively, and your stomach tightens at the sight of him. He’s big. Thick, flushed, already hard and aching.

Your pulse stutters, nerves flickering to the surface. “Oh…”

“Hey,” he says gently, fingers brushing your cheek. “You okay?”

You hesitate, biting your lip. “It’s just… I’ve never done this before.”

Satoru freezes for a moment. His expression doesn’t shift much—but his eyes, bright and blue, soften in an instant.

“…You haven’t?” he asks quietly, tone a stark contrast to the sinful smirk he wore earlier. You shake your head.

He exhales slowly, like he’s grounding himself. Then he leans in and kisses you—slow, patient, loving.

“Well, fuck,” he murmurs against your lips. “Now I really have to behave.”

You blink up at him. “You? Behave?”

He chuckles, brushing his thumb over your lower lip. “Okay, maybe not completely. But I’ll go slow. Make it good for you. You trust me, right?”

You nod.

“Good.” His voice drops a little. “Then let me take care of you, yeah?”

He’s gentle—so gentle it almost breaks you. His lips move from your mouth to your jaw, down your neck, to your chest. He pauses there, kissing over your breasts, fingers caressing your sides as though you might disappear if he’s not careful.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes. “Gonna remember this forever.”

When he finally lines himself up, he doesn’t rush. He keeps kissing you, whispering into your skin.

“Breathe with me,” he says. “Nice and easy, baby. Just relax.”

The stretch burns, but his voice never leaves you. His hands never stop moving—stroking your sides, brushing your hair from your face, thumbing away the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes.

“You’re doing so good,” he murmurs. “So tight, fuck—squeezing me like you were made for me.”

Your breath catches, eyes fluttering shut.

“Look at me,” he says softly, “I wanna see your face.”

You meet his eyes—blown wide with emotion, affection, reverence. And that’s when he starts to move. Slowly, so slowly you can feel everything. Every drag, every pull.

“Feels good?” he asks, and when you nod, he smiles like you’ve just handed him the universe.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, picking up pace just a little. “Takin’ me so well, sweetheart. My pretty girl, lettin’ me be her first.”

You moan—part embarrassment, part bliss—and he kisses the sound from your mouth.

“Can’t believe no one’s touched you like this before,” he mutters against your skin. “But I’m glad. Glad it’s me. Glad I get to show you.”

He starts rolling his hips deeper, each thrust slow and purposeful, coaxing pleasure out of you bit by bit.

“Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

You’re already gasping—your body burning, overstimulated from the build-up and the way he moves inside you. Every drag of him is a stretch, a delicious ache, and you’re trying so hard to keep up, to breathe, to hold yourself together—but it’s too much.

And then it hits.

Your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave—louder, sharper, more intense than the last—and your body tightens instinctively, your walls fluttering around him like they don’t want to let him go.

“Fuck—” Satoru’s voice breaks, a guttural groan tumbling from his throat as he stills, trembling above you. “You’re gonna ruin me, baby…”

His grip tightens on your waist, jaw clenched as he tries to hold back—but you’re squeezing him so tight, so perfect, and his restraint shatters.

“You’re killin’ me,” he grits out, starting to move again—deeper, slower, more intentional—but there’s an edge of desperation now. His forehead presses to yours, breath ragged. “Feels so good—fuck, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You shake your head, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t stop,” you whimper, barely able to form the words. “Please…”

He kisses you hard—like he can’t help himself, like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. “You’re doin’ so good for me, sweetheart. So, so good…”

“‘Toru-” you whimper.

That breaks him.

He groans, slamming into you harder, mouth finding your neck as he nips and kisses down to your collarbone. “Fuck. Say it again.”

You whimper again, brain hazy. “‘Toru…”

He kisses you slow then, deeper. Rough pace never faltering, but his hands gentler now—one wrapping around your waist, the other brushing the hair from your face.

“Mine,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re mine now, yeah?”

You nod desperately, legs locking around his hips. “Yours.”

“Damn right,” he grits, driving into you harder, chasing both your highs with everything he has.

The overstimulation has tears stinging your eyes, your legs trembling, voice catching on every moan. And when that next orgasm builds too fast, too hard—it snaps through you like a live wire. Your body arches off the table, clamping down around him again—

—and Satoru snaps.

“Shit—take it, baby. Let me fill you up, yeah? Gonna make you mine, fuck, you already are—look at you...” he chokes out, thrusting deep one last time before he comes, spilling into you with a long, breathless groan. His arms wrap around you as if to anchor himself, holding you so close, like he needs to feel every inch of you, inside and out.

“Look at you,” he murmurs between pants, pressing kisses across your face. “Takin’ me so well… You’re mine now, yeah? All mine.”

You nod, dazed and boneless, wrapped in his warmth.

And he stays like that, inside you, forehead resting against yours as he murmurs soft, reverent praises—like this wasn’t just your first time.

Like it was everything.

Your body’s still trembling—nerves fried, skin flushed, heart thudding against your chest as if it’s trying to burst free. You’re barely aware of anything except the warm, strong arms pulling you into a careful embrace, the kiss he presses to your temple like it’s the most sacred thing he could ever do.

“Hey…” Satoru murmurs, voice all honey and rasp, rough around the edges but impossibly gentle. “You okay?”

You nod, chest rising and falling against his, cheeks still hot, but there’s a smile on your lips.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Just… wow.”

He laughs softly, the sound low and breathy as his fingers brush along your spine in lazy, soothing strokes. “You were incredible,” he says, and he means it. Every word. “So good for me. So perfect.”

Your face scrunches with a flustered noise, burying it into his shoulder. “Stop…”

“Never,” he grins, nosing into your hair. “You don’t get to be all pretty and sweet and make those sounds and expect me to stay quiet about it.”

You groan. “Satoru—”

“Shhh.” 

His palm rests on your back as he holds you close, thumb drawing lazy circles. You can still feel the dull, pleasant ache of him inside you, the heat he left behind. His breath is warm against your cheek. Safe. Comforting.

“You did so good, baby,” he murmurs again, pressing a kiss just beneath your jaw. “First time and you still managed to rock my fucking world.”

Your heart stutters. “Wasn’t just the sex,” you say quietly.

He stills for half a second—and then he smiles, soft and genuine.

“I know,” he whispers.

You’re still breathless, body flushed and boneless in his arms when Satoru gathers you close, lips pressed gently to your temple. The air between you is warm, quiet save for the distant hum of life around the base. He shifts a little, glancing down at the table beneath you both, and you catch that flicker in his eyes—guilt, soft and creeping.

“I should’ve…” he starts, voice low, almost sheepish. “Shit, I should’ve taken you somewhere better. A bed, a blanket, something that wasn’t a hardass table. It was your first time and I just—” He pauses, brows pinching like the regret’s eating at him now. “I got selfish.”

You lift your hand to his cheek, thumb brushing over the corner of his mouth. “Hey,” you whisper, leaning in until your lips ghost over his, shutting him up with a kiss so soft, so full of emotion it makes his heart stutter.

When you pull back, your smile is small but sure. “It was more than okay. Because it was with you.”

Satoru blinks, breath caught in his throat. And for once, the man with a mouth like a wildfire doesn’t have anything to say.

Until he pulls you tighter into his chest and mutters, “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You just grin into his skin. “Guess we’ll go down together then.”

Then silence. Not awkward, not tense—just full of warmth. Full of everything. His arms around you. Your fingers laced with his.

You don’t say it. Not yet. But maybe one day soon.

For now, the way he holds you like you’re something to be cherished?

It’s more than enough.

author's note. finally have time to post consistently! last month or two were BUSY so couldn't do much </3 i'm proud of how this one turned out ^^ also, shoko is such a baddie i love her