street racer! sukuna who can’t admit that he actually respects street racer! reader. [part one]
the drive home from the meet was probably the worst drive you’ve had in a while. you stopped at a local 24-hour convenience shop to buy some duct tape. you heavily taped the bumper back into place. the ride home felt so empty.
damn you, satoru gojo.
once you got home, all you wanted to do was sleep for hours and hours. the adrenaline rush from earlier kept you from realizing how late it truly was. it was almost 1am now.
while you were putting your phone on the charger, you realized you hadn’t saved sukuna’s number yet. you took out the ripped receipt from your pocket, typed in his number and saved his contact. you sent him a quick text just to confirm.
well that was a bust. a bit of enthusiasm wouldn’t kill him.
the next morning, you slept in a bit later than usual. it was late morning now, just barely before noon. you got up and started to get ready to meet sukuna.
oh wait. you don’t have his address.
of course he lives in shinjuku…
on your way to his house, you stopped at a local restaurant to get breakfast for the two of you. if he wasn’t going to accept your money, he should at least accept a free meal as payment. you got your usual and guessed what kind of food sukuna would like.
hope he’s not a picky eater.
the closer you got to his house, you felt more and more anticipation? nervousness? you had never seen sukuna in broad daylight before, just underneath the moonlight and street lights. what if he’s like a serial killer or something?
nah, he’d rather kill you in a race.
still following the gps, you turned down a quiet street in a neighborhood. a normal-looking neighborhood. you slowed down and drove to the end of the street. you’re here.
and there he was. garage door open, moving stuff around. he was dressed casually, not in the usual dark jeans and leather jacket you always see him in. just a black tank top and sweatpants. tattoos going down the sides of his arms. pink hair still ruffled. he looked like he just rolled out of bed.
you carefully backed into the garage, right next to his car. it looked different in the daylight. not as menacing but still magnetizing to look at.
“hi sukuna.” you say getting out.
a subtle nod as a greeting from him.
“i bought us breakfast.” you hold the bag up. “i wasn’t sure what kind of food you’d like, so i guessed.”
he takes the bag from your hands and looks inside. he doesn’t look disgusted by what you bought so you think you did well. “we can eat inside.” is all he says before heading towards the door, not even checking to see if you’re following behind him.
you take off your shoes at the door after entering. his home is modest and clean, but still sukuna in every way. black leather couch, tv hung on the wall, minimal decor, coat rack by the front door. his home looked like a comfy bachelor pad.
following him into the kitchen, sukuna took the food out the bag and placed it on the counter. he took the better looking one for himself. “sit.” he pointed to the stool across from him and slid your food towards you.
“you have a nice house.”
“i know.” he takes a bite of his food.
“most people would say thank you.”
“why would i thank you for stating the obvious?”
you could feel your eyes rolling before actually intending to. “because it’s polite.”
“right.”
your eyes wander around his kitchen. charcoal black cabinets, electric stove, stainless steel dishwasher, two-door refrigerator. then you noticed: he has drawings on the fridge. drawings made by a child.
“sukuna, you’re a dad?”
he nearly choked. “who the hell told you that?” he was nearly done with his food. you were barely halfway done with yours. you pointed at the fridge and he shook his head. “my nephew.”
“aww, that’s sweet.” who knew sukuna was softie underneath that terrible attitude and stone face?
“eat your food.” he finished up with his food and threw the containers away. “i’ll be in the garage.”
while finishing up your food, you took a closer look at the drawings on his fridge. random dinosaurs, a car that sort of resembled sukuna’s, and one closer to the bottom: a stick figure drawing of sukuna holding holds with a little boy. sukuna was drawn with an angry expression and spiky pink hair while the little boy was drawn with the same pink hair and a smile. in big, bright red letters at the top: me and uncle kuna!!
sukuna really is a softie.
when you finally joined sukuna in the garage, he was inspecting the bumper. “you put tape on it?” your affirmation made him tsk. “don’t do it again.”
you take it back. sukuna is still a jerk.
“sit over there.” sukuna pointed in a general direction, somewhere near the corner, as he began peeling off the many layers of tape. there was a regular sized stool and children’s chair. his nephew must spend time with him in the garage.
the garage smelt like motor oil, rubber, and something unique to sukuna. there were shelves lined on one wall holding various things: toolboxes, bolt-filled mugs, torque wrenches, a framed family picture, clean rags. on the other was two boards. a cork board with random receipts pinned to it and next to it was a white board with random measurements on it. in the bottom corner, a little messy note: yuji was here.
you sat in the stool. “who was that guy you came with to the meet last night?”
“why?”
you shrug. “just curious.”
“why?” still pulling the tape off, rolling it into a ball. “you into him or something?”
“what- no. my friend yuki is. i wanted to know if he’s someone i should warn her about.”
“nah he’s cool.” he says. “choso’s a bit weird but hes a good guy.” he thinks. “that blonde from the meet is your friend?”
“yeah, that’s yuki.” you smiled. “they got along well last night.”
“yeah he kept texting me about her. fucking annoying.”
he finished ripping the tape off and watched the bumper hang halfway off comically. he grabbed some tools to get the other side off and began working on it.
“sooooo, how exactly are you gonna fix my bumper?”
“oh god, you’re gonna talk the whole time?”
“well excuse me for wanting to know what you were doing.”
“i’m a mechanic, i know what i’m doing.”
that’s surprising. “you’re a mechanic? like you work at a shop?”
“obviously.” he rolled his eyes.
“obviously, i didn’t know.” you could feel your eye twitch. “i figured you made a lot from racing.”
“i don’t gamble my races.” he said. “it takes away the integrity of the competition.”
who would’ve knew sukuna cared so much about racing? you knew he had a lot of respect for the sport and he didn’t hide his distaste for those who were only in it for the adrenaline rush or cool points. what you didn’t know was that he cared about keeping the integrity of the sport.
“well if you ever change your mind, you could make a lot off it.”
“not interested.”
“then i guess you wouldn’t mind if i bet on you winning?”
“sure.” he shrugged. “whatever.”
he pulled the bumper off and placed it to the side. he slid underneath the car and began screwing something. “hand me that flashlight.” he pointed to the utility cart with a bunch of tools and bolts and whatever else was on it. you grabbed the flashlight and joined him under the car.
a please and thank you every now and then would be nice…
“what are you doing?”
“holding the flashlight for you.”
“i can hold it myself.” he tried to take it from you but you held it out further from him.
“you never answered my question earlier.”
sukuna let out a mix between a sigh and a huff of breath. “what?”
“how are you going to fix my bumper?”
“i’m going to take off the bracket it. fix it. attach it back to the frame. press the bumper back into place.” he spoke slowly, as if you were a child. “give me the damn flashlight.”
“no, i want to watch.”
“why can’t you just sit in the corner like i told you to?”
“because i want to know how to fix it. what if my bumper breaks again? i should know how to fix it.”
“if it breaks again, i’ll fix it.” he turned his head towards you. “if you have a problem with your car, i’ll fix it.”
“i still want to watch.”
“for fuck’s sake.” he rubbed his eyes in frustration. “fine, you can watch, just stay out my way.” he grabbed your arm to point the light right where he needed it. “hold the light still.”
and you did. you kept a steady hand pointed at the bracket. you watched him unscrew the bolts and screws one by one. your eyes drifted from the bracket to sukuna’s face. you’d never seen him this up close before. his pink hair spread out beneath his head, the wrinkles between his eyebrows, the sharp slope of his nose, the tattoos covering his face.
he’s quite attractive when he isn’t being a total jackass.
“quit staring at me.”
your eyes dart back to the bracket. “i’m not.”
“just keep the light still.” he says, even though your hands hadn’t moved from where he originally placed them. he finished unscrewing the last of the bolts and screws and slid from under the car. you followed behind him. he held the bracket in his lap, inspecting it.
“look,” he shows you the part where a bar was split in half. “that’s why the bumper wouldn’t stay on. i’ll weld it back together.” he doesn’t give you a chance to respond before going to the the side of the garage to weld it. “stay over there.”
despite wanting to see him weld it, you stayed where you were. he put on the welding hood and gloves. you watched the sparks fly from his face. he checked it to make sure it was sturdy before blowing on it. he walked back to where you were and slid under the car.
you got under with him and turned the flashlight back on. “hold this side.” he instructed. you held the right side of the bracket in one hand and the flashlight in the other. sukuna carefully screwed in the bolts on the left.
“do you want to screw it in?”
“can i?” your eyes practically lit up. he hadn’t let you do anything besides hold the flashlight up to this point.
“do it exactly how i did.” he traded the bolts and wrench in his hands for the flashlight.
despite your many mistakes, sukuna was surprisingly patient with you. “you have to put the washer first.” he watched you press it against the bracket. “on the bolt, dumb ass.” after calling him rude, he rolled his eyes but his tone was better. “no, screw it to the right. like this.” his free hand covered yours as he helped you screw in the bolt. “now do the rest.” he didn’t congratulate you for doing it right, just “that’s better.”
that’s high praise from king sukuna.
after getting the bracket back in place, sukuna pressed the bumper back into it. he did some adjustments but it was perfectly placed. you hadn’t even noticed that he managed to get the paint from gojo’s car out.
“y/n,” he called out to you. “where did you buy those taillights from?”
is he interested in getting mods like yours?
“i bought them online! there’s a bunch of them in other shapes too. are you going to get some for your car too?”
“no.” he almost looked disgusted at the suggestion. “send me the link so i can fix your taillight.”
“i can fix that myself, i installed them originally.”
“i already told you, i’ll fix whatever problem you have with your car.” he wiped his hands on a rag. “just send me the damn link.”
sukuna truly was a man of his word. he fixed your bumper and soon, he’ll fix your taillight too. but maybe, he just wanted an excuse to see you again.
part two for @pinkeepromise & @bebebutbetter as promised 🩷. i hope the texts didn’t ruin the vibe too much. thank you for all the sweet comments, you’re my sweet baby angel cakes!!!
p.s: sorry if the address doesn’t make sense, i got it from a random japanese address generator :\
