hey so we releasing pt 2 on that sukuna x us texts 🥹
hii!! abt bsf’s ex!kuna i havent really been able to think about anything good enough for a part two, plus idk how many people are still interested in him so like 😭 but ill try to come up w smth soon :))
just stopping by to say hello and I hope you’re doing well!!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
wren!!! im so sorry i saw this so late 😭 im doing well!! ive been inactive lately cus of uni but ill be back in full force in june 🤞 HOPE YOURE DOING WELL TOO!!!
content warnings & tropes: modern setting, college setting, hospital, angst, break downs, memory loss, falling in love again, happy ending i PROMISE
word count: 20k words
pairings: college football quarterback!sukuna x reader
divider credits: @/inklore & @/saradika-graphics
CHOSEN FATE — sukuna's ending.
"who… who are you?" your eyebrows furrow as you take in the handsome pink-haired man sitting at your bedside, holding your hand. "and where am i— what's… what's going on?"
the last thing you could recall was… leaving the apartment to go start exploring. you wanted to get a feel for your new city. so— what happened for you to end up here in a hospital bed? you search for someone, anyone familiar to answer your questions.
when you glance further across the room you spot suguru, shoko, and— satoru? what is he doing here? you haven't talked to him in over two months, not since you left him on his knees at the watchtower.
you feel a sense of dread pooling in your stomach at the varied reactions. satoru is stiff as a board, shoko's eyes are nearly bugging out of her head, suguru's already shouting for the doctors and— you look back at the stranger beside you.
why does he look like you've just gutted him?
"can… can someone explain? please? i'm really starting to freak out here—,"
suguru, whose breathing is uneven, returns to his seat beside shoko as a team of doctors and other clinicians begin to swarm the room. you're uncomfortable and so confused. you look down at your joined hands with this mystery man, and slowly withdraw from him, placing it on your lap.
the woman who you assume is the head doctor clears her throat, "miss geto," she addresses. "my name is doctor scarlet, your parents personally requested me to handle your care."
you blink, "my… care?"
she nods, "miss geto… i'm going to ask you a series of questions. please just answer to the best of your ability."
"alright…"
"can you tell me your name? and your date of birth?"
you repeat your full name and list off your birthdate. she scribbles on her clipboard with a satisfied nod, "and what's the date? please be specific, month, day, and year."
shit what day was it? friday… last day of may. "may 31st, 2024."
the doctor's face doesn't change, but you hear a sharp intake of breath to your left. you turn and see the pink-haired man looking stricken. he abruptly gets to his feet, staggering towards the door.
"sukuna—," your brother calls after him. sukuna?
"i can't be here." the man, sukuna, is out the door before you can fully register.
your attention is entirely on your brother and shoko now who are loudly whispering to each other. "text delia," shoko hisses.
suguru shakes his head, "no. he's going to need someone who can physically handle him, i'm going to call toji."
who are these people they're talking about? you watch as he collects his phone and heads into the hallway, running a hand through his hair cursing under his breath.
"shoko," you say. "what's going on? who was that?"
you watch as your best friend's face crumples with a rare show of pure anguish. for this stranger? "that—," she presses her lips together, unable to get the words out.
much to your shock, satoru answers for her. "that was… someone very important to you."
you're about to ask how he knows that, why he's even here— shouldn't he be with his girlfriend? manami would surely throw a fit if she knew where he was right now.
doctor scarlet coughs, catching your attention. "what's the last thing you remember?"
you furrow your brow as you try to recall the last memory you have. your head begins to hurt. "uh," you wince. "suguru and i just moved into our new apartment so i wanted to… go check things out. did something happen?"
"i'm going to try to ease into this," doctor scarlet says. "you were in an accident. it was pretty bad, you sustained numerous injuries. physically you've healed for the most part. you had some severe lacerations, bruised ribs, and internal bleeding."
holy shit.
you feel sick.
"when you were admitted, you were immediately rushed into surgery and we worked around the clock, but you had severe head trauma so we had to induce a coma."
a coma.
you've been in a coma.
so how long…
"you've been out for about two weeks now," she says. "today's current date is january 3rd, 2026."
2026?
that… that can't be. there's no way… that'd mean you've lost… a year and a half's worth of memories. nearly two.
"what?— you're joking, you have to be—," you look over to shoko wide-eyed, "shoko tell her—,"
you watch as shoko bites her lip and closes her eyes, fighting to keep herself together. oh no. oh no, then this must be real.
"i'm really sorry miss geto, but i believe due to the impact you've sustained retrograde amnesia. it's hard to say, your memories could come back quickly or they could come back slowly. in some cases, they may not return at all."
no. no no no.
"for now it's best that you stick to what's familiar, what's comfortable. do not try to force anything." she tells you, tucking her clipboard beneath her arm. "you'll have regular check-ups for a while," you frown, clutching your scratchy hospital sheets. "things might come back in fragments, sometimes triggered by your senses or something familiar. just be prepared for that."
you nod, but your mind is racing.
that man— the one who'd left. who was he? why did he look so… broken?
you're completely zoning out now as the doctor slips out of the room with her team, and you sit there staring blankly at your hands. it isn't until shoko's at your side that you realize you've been shaking. she sits at the edge of your bed and wraps an arm around your shoulders.
you let yourself slump into her side. you feel so empty. so sad. so angry. "what— what have i missed? i need to know—,"
"the doctor said not to force—,"
"i don't care what she said. i've lost nearly two years of my life, and some man just left my side looking like i destroyed him—,"
suguru enters the room then, shutting the door gently behind him. "doctor scarlet caught me up," he says, then directly looks at shoko, "and toji has it… handled."
"toji? who's toji and what is he handling?"
your twin's lips thin, "nothing for you to worry about right now. you need to rest some more. they said in a few days you'll get discharged but we can't strain you."
in the corner of the room satoru stands, still there, but he looks so awkward and uncomfortable. "is anyone going to explain why he's here?"
the three of them share a look and you want to throttle them. "stop doing that! just tell me that at least? last i knew satoru and i weren't…"
suguru sighs, "fine. okay. but if it becomes too much we stop. immediately. understood?"
you roll your eyes, "yeah. understood," then you turn your head to satoru expectantly, who stands there like a deer caught in headlights. "well? come over here and plead your case or whatever."
he laughs, but it doesn't sound happy, and you still can't quite wrap your head around why they're all acting like you just murdered someone. "okay okay, i'm coming," he says, striding over to the empty seat beside your bed. "where do you want me to start?"
you huff, growing frustrated. "i don't know? you tell me. the beginning?"
shoko gives you a quick squeeze and slides off the hospital bed, "i'm going to go grab you some food. you're probably starving."
for a second panic claws at you at the thought of being left alone with your ex-best friend in the hospital room. suguru nods and agrees with shoko, "yeah. we'll go get you something that isn't hospital food. any requests?"
you frown, "uhm… i don't know what's around here."
satoru nervously wrings his hands, "that taco place she likes is down the road."
shoko's eyes light up, "mmm you're right. they've got the best green sauce," she turns to suguru looping her arm through his. "we'll be back, call if you need us." she waves a hand in the air as she drags your twin out right beside her.
"why are they being so weird?" you ask, turning to give satoru your full attention.
"uh," he glances around anywhere but you. "i don't think talking about that is a good idea right now."
that earns him an eye roll. "whatever." you gesture at him to hurry it up, "so. explain to me how we went from you choosing your girlfriend over me, to you being in my hospital room."
you watch as the tips of satoru's ears turn pink, "okay first of all i didn't choose her—," he immediately cuts himself off noticing the glare you're giving him, then he sighs. "i'll start with you leaving me at the watchtower. does that work?"
"mhm," you nod. and so, satoru begins to spill his guts about his time without you and everything he experienced on his end, all the way up to when he finally came to see you during spring break.
"spring break? what are you talking about?" you interrupt, confused. "i haven't seen you since the watchtower. well, and graduation, but we didn't speak so—,"
satoru's face seems to fall at your words, "right, yeah, you wouldn't remember it." he does his best to put on a brave face. "about a year after you left me standing there, i found the courage to come see you." he laughs a bit nervously. "i showed up at your apartment without any sort of plan and you wanted nothing to do with me."
you quirk an eyebrow up, "uh huh. yet you're standing here now in my hospital room so you must've won me over somehow, yeah?"
his smile softens, turning genuine as his eyes glaze over a bit while he thinks of the last almost ten months he's spent trying to regain his spot in your life. "you ended up needing a ride to class with all your art supplies. i just happened to be in the area. and after that we ended up at your favorite coffee shop for like five hours."
he starts to tell you different anecdotes from rebuilding your friendship. with each word, things begin to come back to you, like when he mentions his return from greece and how you ran right into his arms and he felt like the only person in the world, or when you went to a flower festival with suguru and shoko, and his personal favorite, your road trip together last thanksgiving.
these things solidify in your mind, taking shape and form, sliding right back into their empty slots again. more and more memories pertaining to satoru begin to branch off from there, showing you what you'd forgotten, all the progress the two of you made. though there are a lot of distinctly foggy pieces.
sort of like some of the memories have gaps. like there are parts that are blurry, missing something important. though you do realize there's a sort of… hard stop. you can't recall anything after the day before thanksgiving. from there through your accident is still… empty.
it's annoying. you want to figure out why, but instead you focus on satoru as he continues talking, helping you walk through the memories the two of you created. you still don't recall most things outside of satoru but it's a start at least.
by the time suguru and shoko get back, you're significantly less hostile towards satoru and eager to dig into your food. despite some things coming back regarding satoru at least, you can't help but have this awful nagging feeling in the back of your mind.
like you're missing something. or someone.
you chalk it up to the missing memories. maybe once you see more people, things will click back into place. things will feel right again.
they have to.
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sukuna sits in his car. he hasn't been able to get himself to leave the parking lot. it's his new car, seeing as his other one was crunched beyond repair. thank god for car insurance. he stares at the steering wheel. his mind is empty yet loud all at once. the way your face contorted in confusion and your eyes looked at him like he was a stranger… the way you pulled your hand out of his, and the way your eyes lacked their usual warmth. warmth you held even when you were fuming and screaming. gone.
"who are you?"
words he'd never thought would come out of your mouth.
the universe is sick and cruel. dangling you in front of him for so long, then forcing him to slowly watch you slip through his fingertips as you began to sink back into gojo. that was something he was trying to come to terms with. but… to have you taken from him? your memories of him gone? to have you forget every late night drive, every time you went to the diner, going to the aquarium, to forget all the days you'd spend holed up on his couch throwing popcorn at him and laughing. to forget him. to forget the way he was there at the drop of a hat, to forget the way he looked at you, the way he held you, the way he loved you.
he feels sick.
why?
what could he have possibly done to deserve this? sure he can be a jackass and he isn't the friendliest, but fuck, he's never done anything to warrant the only woman he's loved to forget his existence. nearly two years of his life… gone. just like that.
tears hot and heavy begin to pour before he can stop them, and he feels a buzzing in his veins. a guttural scream tears from his throat as he pounds his fist against the steering wheel until his knuckles are raw.
he's never felt this way before. not even watching you slowly choose gojo did he feel this deep-rooted sense of wrongness. it's like he's mourning you when you're still here. he's openly sobbing now, his shoulders shaking as he leans forward pressing his forehead against the wheel.
his phone begins to buzz in the cup holder beside him, but he ignores it. it's probably suguru checking on him, seeing how he's doing. right now he can't bring himself to answer him. then his phone buzzes again. once… twice… three times. his fingers grip the wheel tighter as he tries to ignore the damn device, until it begins buzzing rapidly, and he curses, sitting up and snatching the damn thing.
he can't quite make out who's calling him. he just slides his thumb and presses the speaker to his ear. "what."
there's a deep familiar sigh on the other end, "get your ass to the gym, kid."
sukuna's stomach clenches hearing toji's voice. "i'm not in the mood for sparring."
"no? last i checked your entire world just got ripped out from under you and you're going to need a place to let that shit out," he's gruff, and to most people he'd sound like a total ass, but sukuna knows better. "get to the fuckin' gym now or i'll drag you here myself." the line goes dead and sukuna sits there for a moment, swallowing thickly.
yeah, okay. he'll go to the gym. maybe toji's right. maybe he does need a space to let this shit out. because he feels like if he stays here any longer he's going to crack and not be able to put himself back together again.
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the gym is much emptier than it normally would be when sukuna pulls into the parking lot. he realizes when he reaches the doors that toji's flipped the sign and locked the doors, closing the gym for the day. it doesn't take more than a minute before toji's unlocking the door and holding it open for sukuna to slip inside.
they don't talk as they head to the locker rooms and sukuna finds his personal locker and changes into his spare gym clothes. his eyes are still red-rimmed and swollen as he finishes dressing and tugs on his gloves. toji is waiting for him in the center of the ring when he walks out, standing in the center with his arms crossed, gaze unnervingly assessing.
"we gonna talk or you just need to hit something?" toji asks when sukuna climbs up and stands in front of him.
sukuna's nose scrunches up. fuck no, he doesn't want to talk. so, he reels his arm back and swings. despite zero warning, toji isn't taken by surprise at all. he dodges to the side, narrowly avoiding the hit, then he pivots and slams a kick to sukuna's side.
the pink-haired man grits his teeth, and from there it turns into a full-on brawl. toji takes everything sukuna dishes out, but he pushes back, giving him back everything tenfold. he knows the feeling all too well, the need to let the pain out and to feel it. they've been going at it for a while when they're locked in a clinch, and toji feels it the moment sukuna begins to shake.
"fuck—," sukuna's voice cracks. and the tears well up again, and his chest heaves. they're coming out quicker and harder than before.
toji releases the position, shucking off his gloves before he grabs sukuna by his shoulders and pulls him into his arms. hugs weren't common between the two. in fact, toji could probably count how many they've had on one hand. but the way his baby brother is breaking in his arms right now… he can't just let him be alone. sukuna's knees give out and he leans all his weight into toji, burying his face into the older man's shoulder.
he feels like he's six years old and scared of his deadbeat dad all over again, while toji holds him promising he won't let him come back. the two sink down to the floor of the ring, and there are no words exchanged. just two brothers, not by blood but by choice, embracing as the world falls.
sukuna can't recall a time he's ever felt this way. so completely gutted and broken. so fucking small and helpless. he can't find it in himself to feel shame or embarrassment at the moment, though he's sure that'll come later. all he can feel right now is the way toji holds him tight, an unyielding shield through the storm.
"s'gonna be okay."
that's all the older man says, and sukuna just grips him tighter.
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the next few days in the hospital pass you by pretty fast. you get quite a few visitors, which shockingly included your parents. it felt foreign when they entered the room together in casual clothes you aren't sure you've ever seen them wear, both looking worse for wear. your mother's hair is tied into a messy knot. you'd only ever seen every hair on her head slicked back and pristine. your father has dark circles beneath his eyes, his hair frizzy every which way.
"oh baby," your mother croons, her voice cracking the moment she lays eyes on you. there are tears shimmering in her eyes. you hadn't even seen her cry when your grandfather passed away. it's like watching a robot gain emotion.
you sit there uncomfortable as she reaches your bedside, placing a kiss to your hair and pulling you into a hug. "when we got the call from suguru we thought—," her voice cuts off, and you don't need her to finish the thought. "we are so sorry," she whispers, and you feel a few of her tears slip onto your head. "we should've tried harder."
a bit awkwardly you nod, "uh, it's fine."
your father stands just to her left, his jaw set. "it's not fine," he says firmly. "your mother is right. we've been so preoccupied with work and ourselves we've completely…" he trails off. "we hardly even know our children anymore."
have they ever?
"we're going to be better," your mother promises. "things won't stay how they were."
you nod. it's still not something you quite believe, but you go along with it, not wanting to draw the interaction out much further. they stick around for a bit, trying to make small talk, to get to know their college-aged daughter. you'd rather watch oil paint dry on your canvas than this, but you're chained to a hospital bed and don't have much choice.
thankfully the nurses arrive and mention it's time for you to get some rest, and they head out with another round of hugs and promises you aren't sure they'll keep.
besides them, two girls visit. yuki and utahime. at first you don't really remember them, despite shoko telling you they're her roommates who you've become very close to.
but then utahime reprimands yuki over something, smacking her on the back of her head— yuki whines and pouts, telling utahime she's being so mean. and just like that, a flood of memories pertaining to the two girls comes back to you as if they were never really gone.
memories of days lounging by the pool, yuki perched on your lap doing your makeup before parties, utahime doing her best to keep you all in line and then falling victim to yuki's peer pressure, and countless nights of the four of you curled up in your living room drinking wine and watching trashy reality tv.
that's right.
you'd made friends. girl friends at that.
at some point after they've left, suguru sweeps into your room holding a small bag and a smug little half-smirk on his face. "here," he says as he reaches in and pulls out a shiny new cellphone, and hands it over to you. "it's new. your other one was… yeah," he coughs. "i downloaded everything for you from the cloud."
you roll it in your hands before clicking the power button. the screen lights up and a photo of you, shoko, suguru, and satoru stares at you. you're all laughing and grinning. it looks like you're standing on the boardwalk near your family's beach house. you furrow your eyebrows, "when was this?"
"week of fourth of july. all of us went to the beach house for the week."
you hum and open the phone up the rest of the way. flipping through to see what apps you've got downloaded, your contacts, and then you open up your camera roll. most of it is filled with art supplies, beautiful places you've been, delicious food, photos of yourself with shoko and suguru, yuki and utahime, and some of satoru sprinkled in.
you look at the timestamps of the photos, and that's when you notice something odd. your eyebrows begin to furrow. "uh, sugu?" you ask as you glance at the dates. there are chunks of time missing between june 2024 and august 2024. then again... throughout each month up until around july of 2025. things seem to be a bit steadier then, less time jumps.
"yes?" he asks, looking up from where he's settled into the armchair across from your bed.
"did something happen to my phone? there are like… gaps in my photos? it's really weird. there are entire weeks just missing."
suguru's expression shifts, going carefully blank. "oh, probably just failed to backup. you know how finicky those things can be."
"oh okay," you say. though it feels off, like you're missing something. however, you know better than to push and argue with suguru, especially when you're in what the doctors keep calling a 'delicate and vulnerable' state.
you're scrolling through when you notice a photo of your wrist side by side with shoko and suguru. the photo is taken right in front of a pretty tattoo studio.
'kamo ink.'
your eyebrows furrow, and something itches at your brain. you scroll a bit further down until you see a photo of a guy who must be about your age, maybe a little older, that looks familiar.
'choso.'
a lightbulb in your brain goes off, and you remember choso, who you met when you moved here. who somehow was connected to you by fate, having purchased your paintings from the auction. you vaguely remember him mentioning that his brother had the watchtower painting hung up over his bed. have you ever met his brother? huh.
as you flip through photos with choso you notice a young boy, perhaps around seven or eight?
"who's this?" you turn your phone towards suguru, who's sitting next to you. he rarely left your side, only leaving when shoko or satoru relieved him.
suguru pauses, staring at the photo. "that's yuiji."
the name feels familiar. "yuiji…" it rolls off your tongue, and you know that this little boy means the world to you. just the sight of him making your chest feel warm and fuzzy. "is he related to choso?"
your twin looks at you, blinking. "you remember choso?"
you nod, "yeah. saw the photo of our tattoos in front of his shop and it just kinda… came back?"
"do you remember anyone else connected to him?" his voice is sharp, like he's waiting for you to say something specific, but you just shake your head frowning.
"no… should i?"
if you weren't his twin you probably would've missed the way his expression crumbles for a split second before he schools it. "no, it's fine. i was just checking. you keep regaining memories and all." then he clears his throat again. "anyways, that's choso's nephew. his name is yuiji. you often babysat him."
"oh," you say slowly. "could you ask them to visit me?"
he hesitates before answering, "are you sure?"
"yeah? i remember choso, and i have a feeling yuiji and i had a special relationship so, i'd like to see them."
later that day, you end up greeted by the very same kid from the photos. he bounds into your room full of energy, holding up a large bouquet of flowers. "auntie!" he exclaims, rushing over to your bed without a care in the world. "i missed you! dad says you were really really hurt—,"
a much calmer, more monotone voice calls out to him. "yuiji, what did we talk about?" choso enters behind him right then. "don't overwhelm her." he's carrying a paper bag, and your nose twitches, and you instantly know what it is. "thai food, okay?" he asks, looking at you. you can see the slight hesitation there, as if he's worried he's done too much.
you smile. it slowly spreads across your face. "that's perfect, thanks cho." then you look at yuiji who's standing at the edge of your bed now, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "are those for me?" you laugh, playfulness in your tone as you look at the pink-haired boy.
"yes! grandma helped me pick 'em out! she knows all about flowers." he says it like he's very proud, puffing out his chest as he holds the flowers out to you.
"well she did an excellent job," you say conspiratorially. "i love them. could you go set them on the windowsill for me?"
yuiji immediately does as he's told. while he does that, choso sets the food on your nearby bedside tray. "how are you feeling?" the older male asks, carefully beginning to set your food out for you.
"i'm sore and tired," you say. "but the doctors say that's from being in bed for so long." then you pause. "how did you know my order?"
"we used to get a lot of takeout," choso hums. it's quick and smooth, so you believe him. "yuiji, do you want to show her your drawing?"
the pink-haired boy lights up, bounding back over. "yeah!!" he immediately reaches into the bag choso pulled your food from. he must've stashed it in there for safe keeping. "can i sit with you, auntie?"
you grin. memories of him hadn't come back yet, but you couldn't help but entertain him. "sure, bud." yuiji pulls the paper out and scrambles onto your mattress immediately, pressing himself into your side. "alright, let's see whatcha got."
yuiji places the paper in your lap. it's crumpled and there's color all over it. he looks incredibly proud. there's a building behind a pair of stick figures, and the word 'ice cream' crudely written on a sign. the first stick figure looks like it's meant to be you, ice cream in one hand, and a smaller stick figure's hand in the other, which you can tell is meant to be yuiji. "see? it's us!" he grins. "and this—," he points to the oddly placed tree beside you, "is the tree uncle cho made me draw."
your eyes narrow a bit as you stare at the tree. the closer you look you can see it's covering up a third figure. huh. but you choose to ignore that for now. "it's amazing, thank you for making it. i'll have to hang it up when i go home, okay?"
he beams at you and snuggles into you more and starts to ramble about a million things a minute. over the course of time that the two visit you, you begin to remember more and more about yuiji, though it's odd because a lot of these memories feel like they're missing chunks and whole pieces, like someone took an eraser and removed what they wanted to.
by the time they're leaving, yuiji is giving you a big hug, and choso leans down to pat your head. you watch as they leave and can't help but feel like this visit was incomplete, like something about it was wrong and it's driving you nuts.
your doctors keep telling you it's just the awkwardness of regaining memories in pieces. that everything is fine, to just keep taking things slow. despite that… you feel it deep in your gut that you're missing something big.
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about a week after you've woken up, suguru finds himself standing in front of sukuna and choso's apartment. the pink-haired man had been blatantly dodging suguru all week and he was fed up with it. he wasn't going to sit there and let him destroy himself over his twin sister. while suguru couldn't possibly begin to understand what it felt like to have her forget him, he also knew sukuna couldn't just isolate himself. that wasn't the answer to this.
he knocks, and moments later choso appears in a baggy hoodie and sweats. "he's in his room," he pauses. "he might punch you if you go in there."
suguru rolls his eyes, "i can take a punch."
choso shrugs and opens the door enough for suguru to slip inside. he kicks his shoes off by the front door and heads down the hallway towards sukuna's bedroom. predictably, the door is shut, and he decides to be nice and knock.
"told you to fuck off," sukuna's gruff voice answers.
"actually, you haven't said a word to me," suguru says, hand wrapping around the door knob and entering the room without permission. sukuna's head snaps up from where he's sitting hunched over the side of his bed, staring at a canvas between his feet.
sukuna narrows his eyes, "yeah? that should've been a fuckin' hint."
suguru hums, "hm. maybe so, but if she regains her memories and knows i let you wallow like this she'll kill me." he notes the way sukuna tenses, his eyes training back to the canvas at his feet. as suguru gets closer he recognizes what sukuna is staring at so intently. the painting of the watchtower she made all those years ago. the symbol that represents her and satoru.
"yeah," sukuna smiles but it's bitter and sharp. "yet she remembers gojo. which i shouldn't be surprised. she made an entire series of paintings for him." he shakes his head. "i should've known the moment i knew this was for him that she'd never be mine."
"because of him," suguru says.
sukuna looks up at that, "excuse me?"
suguru sighs, "she painted them because of him. because it was the only way she could let out the pain she was feeling. she didn't paint them for him."
"hah," sukuna leans back onto his hands, corners of his lips pulled down. "you expect me to believe that? she never stopped loving him. i was just the placeholder, and the accident erased me entirely. maybe she never cared as much as i thought."
suguru stares at him blankly, "you're stupid."
"i'm stupid?" sukuna scoffs. "i'm realistic."
your twin rolls his eyes, "no. you're stupid if you think she didn't love you. i've witnessed her having her heartbroken. and nothing compares to how she felt after thanksgiving. you broke something in her that satoru never even touched."
sukuna's lips curl into a sneer, "she was just upset i wasn't there at her beck and call."
"sure," suguru says, shrugging nonchalantly. "or, she was upset because the one person she believed would always be there, who saw her for who she was and never once tried to change her, left. didn't even visit her after she nearly died." he sighs. "my sister loves hard. and yeah, sure she loved satoru and she was always aware of it, but…" something flashes in his eyes, "the way she loved you doesn't even begin to compare. even if she didn't know it."
sukuna is silent for a moment, letting the words sink in. his throat bobs, and his fingers fist into his sheets. "what am i supposed to do with that? she doesn't even remember me. it's like i've been surgically removed from her memory."
"do you love her?" suguru asks.
"what kind of fuckin' question is that?" sukuna scoffs. "of course i love her."
"then you'll wait," he says like it's simple. "i know it hurts. but… she's making progress every day, remembering things, people." suguru takes in the sight of sukuna, heartbroken and tired. "if you really believe in all that shit you said when you met… wait for her."
sukuna knows what he's talking about. when he said that corny shit to you because you kept appearing in every corner of his life and he felt like the universe was screaming at him to keep you. it's fate. that's what he'd said to you.
"i'll leave you to it," suguru finally says. "but i'm here. we all are, so don't keep isolating. lean on us, okay?" then he's leaving the bedroom, gently letting the door click shut as sukuna sits there mulling over the conversation.
did you really love him the way he loved you?
and he thinks back to that awful night, right before the impact. you'd been about to answer him. to tell him who you loved, him or gojo. were you going to say his name? were you going to admit you loved him back?
he falls backwards onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling. he wants to believe it's true, but it's so hard when every breath he takes feels like it's burning his lungs. maybe if fate is kind, you'll find your way back to him. he can only hope.
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you're back home at your apartment, though you've been given a little more time off from classes to try and get used to functioning outside of the hospital again. besides suguru, who's basically your built in caretaker, satoru is with you as much as humanly possible. shoko's been cramming for some very important test she has, but she checks on you when she can, so that leaves it to the boys to help you reimmerse yourself.
it was pretty easy to slip back into your dynamic with satoru, as if things hadn't changed. he's a safe space for you, familiar and comforting. and with the memory of the way things had progressed between the two of you ever since he'd walked back into your life, it was practically a no brainer that this was how things were meant to be.
when he's able to, he takes you out to different spots you loved to frequent, to help jog your memory. one afternoon you're walking down a sidewalk, fingers laced in his when a neon sign across the road catches your attention. you tilt your head, feeling this odd little tug in the back of your brain. satoru comes to a stop, noticing your attention having been drawn to something.
"did we go there a lot?" you ask, curious as your eyes trace over the glowing letters hung above the door.
satoru shifts beside you, hand gripping yours a little more. "no," he says truthfully.
you hum, furrowing your eyebrows. "weird. it just… it seems familiar."
the silence from satoru is noticeable. you glance over to see him staring at the sign too, an odd look in his eyes. "you went there a lot though."
"oh," you say. "by myself?"
"no," and he doesn't elaborate. "why don't we keep going? there's this stationary shop nearby that you practically spent half your allowance at every month." you let him tug you along, but the image of the diner stays imprinted in the forefront of your mind. then your thoughts drift to the pink-haired man from the day you woke up. something seems to want to connect, but it can't quite manage to. you take a deep breath, and exhale. the doctors said not to force memories, so you let yourself lean into satoru's side, and let your mind drift to other things.
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it isn't too long into being home that you realize you own an excessive amount of gym gear, including gloves. you end up asking your twin about it, and he says you have a personal trainer you've been seeing pretty much since you had moved in. and after a bit of arguing, you wind up standing outside an inherently familiar brick gym. your gym bag is on your shoulder and your heart is in your throat as you walk through the doors. suguru had said that you regularly went tuesdays and thursdays in the late afternoon to early evenings.
so here you are, on a tuesday at five o'clock, nervous to see someone who is apparently a pretty big deal. as you walk through the doors, the bell chimes, and you hear a gruff voice across the gym call out, "be right there."
it's not long before a large mountain of a man begins making his way up to the front. you feel recognition flicker within you as he comes to a stop, scowling at you. "and who the hell told you that you could show up here?"
anxiety floods you for a moment, "oh i'm sorry—,"
he sighs, "shut up, princess. i didn't mean it like that," one of his large hands come down on the top of your head in an affectionate gesture. "i just mean your ass ain't ready for training yet."
"i feel fine," you press. "the doctors said it'd be good to stay active now that i'm out."
"being active and getting your ass beat at the gym aren't the same thing."
you narrow your eyes, "you're kind of a dick."
he barks out a laugh, "there she is. thought those memories might've turned ya into someone with manners." a smirk settles on his lips, and you feel your skin begin to buzz, and you blink— memories begin to surface from the inky abyss of your mind. late nights hitting pads, talking about things you'd never been able to discuss with your own parents, two little kids who look a lot like the man in front of you, and— you feel yourself begin to choke up a bit.
toji sees the tears beginning to collect along your lashes, "shit." he mutters. "uh, i didn't mean anything by it—," you promptly cut him off by dropping your bag to the floor and surging forward wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest. he stills for a moment before he slowly wraps his arms around you. "hey, kid."
the two of you stay that way for a moment longer before you pull back and scrub at your eyes with your forearm, "for the record, you are a dick." your voice is less even than you'd like but toji just grins and rolls his eyes.
"you're a peach yourself, princess," he retorts. "no training still. you can help me organize the back though, let's go."
you begin to protest, but a warmth settles in your heart, and you decide to trail after him without complaint.
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the weeks slowly begin to blur together, and you're eventually approved to begin school again. classes aren't too hard to make up considering the teachers let you off pretty easy for missed assignments and quizzes. your routine mostly consists of school, training, movie nights, and satoru. you haven't gone to any parties since recovering, feeling a strange aversion to them, but nobody seems to judge you for it. instead you spend time with your friends on the weekends when they're not busy.
satoru became your constant again, there in every facet of your life as if there had never been any time apart. you'd get coffee together in the mornings, spend lunch together in the afternoons, and almost always meet up to study after classes were finished for the day. he takes you to cute restaurants and cafes, some you've been to and didn't quite remember, some new that you'd apparently wanted to try before the accident.
one evening you're stretched out across satoru's couch, your textbooks left untouched on his coffee table. you're staring up at the ceiling with a frown, he's currently sitting on the floor skimming papers that are nestled beside your books. "i'm hungry," you say releasing a heavy sigh, rolling over to stare him down, a pout at the edges of your lips.
he sets his pen down and looks at you, "mmm," he hums. "what're you hungry for, sunshine?"
you pinch your lips together as you try to think, and only one thing stands out to you. "remember that diner we passed last month? i'm really craving one of their burgers," you pause. "i think."
satoru watches you for a moment, and something in the air shifts. something painful flashes in his eyes, something deeply sad. "sunshine," he begins slowly. "i think we need to talk."
at his tone you slowly push yourself upright and look at him with furrowed eyebrows, "about what? me craving a burger—,"
"no." his voice is firm in a way you rarely have heard it, "look the last few weeks, they've been… it's been my dream. really."
you nod slowly, "okay…" something begins to knot in your stomach. you're not stupid. you know what this is about. it's about the pink-haired man at your bedside that you've hardly caught glimpses of since you woke up. everyone seems to tiptoe around mentioning him, but you hear whispered conversations and when you manage to spot him across campus, you can see the pain in his face when you lock eyes for a split second before he turns away.
you've searched your phone for any evidence of him, but there's hardly anything. there are large gaps within your photos though, and even in various text conversations with other people. suguru hasn't admitted it but you're pretty sure he erased the man's existence from your phone so that you wouldn't hurt yourself trying to remember who he was.
at home, you'd even searched your bedroom for any traces of him. there was a few small things that you had an inkling were connected. ticket stubs, random little trinkets, you'd even found a sweatshirt that definitely wasn't suguru's or satoru's. but there was no photo evidence of him ever existing in your life. besides maybe the photos of yuiji, who is the spitting image of him.
you'd recalled a good chunk of your memories of the itadori family. but it was like there was this important chunk just… cut clean from them.
after a few moments you realize satoru was talking and you hadn't heard any of it, "sorry, uhm could you repeat… all of that?" you ask scratching awkwardly at your forearm.
satoru looks at you, and he sighs. "this," he gestures between them, and he looks so pained as he says it, "it needs to end. i can't in good conscience let you choose me when you don't even know who the other option is."
your throat works, swallowing around nothing but saliva and air. "you're talking about the man who was at my bedside."
his eyes shutter, "his name is sukuna."
satoru watches you carefully trying to see if you have any reaction to the name. and god you wish you did but there's nothing. "i…" you feel yourself growing unsteady. "i know i should remember him. he was clearly important but i've tried so hard and i just—," you feel yourself growing frustrated, tears springing to life. "i don't. nothing. not even an inkling, satoru. and everyone is acting as if he didn't exist in my life while also trying to hide that i've clearly hurt him really bad and i just—," you exhale a ragged breath. "i don't know what to do."
your chest heaves as you wait for him to reply. you can tell he's thinking carefully before he speaks. there's this… almost… acceptance in his eyes as he opens his mouth, "you need to go see him, for yourself. you guys need to talk, really talk."
"i don't even know where he lives, and besides that, what if he won't talk to me?" your voice begins to rise an octave, "he won't even look at me on campus. whatever i did to him— it had to be bad."
satoru shakes his head, "there was a lot of miscommunication. you… you didn't do anything wrong. a lot of it is honestly my fault," his lips tilt up in a self-deprecating smile. "i'm going to give you his address."
"and what, i just show up?"
"yeah. that way… that way you can at least know."
something settles in you just a bit, "alright."
he nods, "alright."
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by the time you've worked up the courage the sun has set and the moon hangs full over the city. you've been nervous all day, but for some reason the moment you see that glow overhead, something eases your nerves. so, you take suguru's car, and you head towards the address satoru had texted you. it isn't far, maybe a ten minute drive, if that. you try to take the route in, see if any of it feels familiar.
your hands tighten on the steering wheel as you get further and further without any sort of recollection. all you want is just a snippet, something to go off of, so you can try to understand who sukuna is— who he was to you.
when you pull into the parking lot you take notice of a black sedan, that shares a space with a motorcycle. something about that makes your fingers tingle, reflexively curling them inwards. you shake your head, and step out of the vehicle, glancing at the moon one more time before you head towards the apartment.
the light bathes you and you inhale, letting your head tip back, as if you could absorb the moon's serenity if you tried hard enough. then slowly you bring your head back up and lock eyes on the staircase in front of you, and you begin your trek towards as satoru put it, 'your other choice,' whatever that means.
you know it's pretty late, and hell sukuna might even be asleep, you have no clue if he's a night owl or not. still, you know if you don't do this now you'll lose your nerve. every step you take is foreign and unfamiliar, yet it doesn't feel wrong, and that's the part that throws you off. you're in a place you don't know yet you have this instinct that it's where you're supposed to be.
anxiety wraps around your chest like a vice, but still you climb the stairs and continue towards the door at the end of the walkway. there's plants placed on either side of it and what appears to be some sort of gothic gnome. that makes you snort a bit, and you make sure that the apartment number is right. you check your phone three separate times before you finally take a deep breath and knock.
seconds stretch into an eternity as you hold your breath and wait for someone to answer. then you hear the faint sound of footsteps and grumbling. the doorknob begins to jiggle and turn, your breath catches in your lungs, and it opens.
you clutch at the edges of your oversized sweatshirt sleeves, as time seems to stand still. his red eyes bore into yours and you feel as if he sees through every layer you have. as you stare up at him, unable to breathe, you take in the small details of his appearance. there's a deep purple blooming beneath his eyes, and his hair is a complete wreck. his skin is cracking along the edges of his nose, and everything about him seems dull.
it doesn't take a genius to know the cause.
you.
"hi," you breathe, voice barely above a whisper.
he swallows thickly, still silent. his eyes fill with something akin to agony, "what are you doing here." his voice is gruff, and you find yourself tugging the fabric of your sweatshirt closer. his eyes dart to it, "what. are you wearing."
you glance down at the black fabric, "uhm," you awkwardly tug at a piece of it. "this was in my closet and it has this faint smell to it that i liked and—," you shrug with one shoulder, slowly pulling your gaze back to his. "is it yours?"
the air between the two of you grows thick, and goosebumps prickle along your arms. your heart is hammering in your chest and you wonder if he's going to slam the door in your face.
instead, "yeah."
you aren't quite sure what to do with that.
"back to what i asked, what are you doing here." he doesn't even phrase it as a question, almost as if he refuses to let his heart hope for the correct answer.
your eyes drift to the side, over the guard rail beside the doorway. the moonlight gives you the strength to find the words, "i need to know," you say. "nobody will tell me who you are, and i need to know." you turn back to him, he's gripping the doorway, his knuckles slowly turning white.
"i'm not important."
something about that drives a nail into your chest, hurting you and irritating you all at once. "that's bullshit," you say your eyes meeting his fully, refusing to back down. "when i said i didn't know who you were you looked as if i'd just shot you."
"might as well have."
your nose twitches and you sharply inhale, "i want to know who you are, who we were."
"why?" he looks as if even breathing by you is causing him unfathomable pain, "you got what you wanted, you're happy with your perfect gojo. there's nothing left here for us."
"he sent me here," you press. "he said he couldn't be with me, that it wasn't fair when i couldn't even remember who the other choice was." you take a step towards sukuna, you don't even realize it. "everyone has refused to give me any information, they've completely removed any traces of you from my life, and—," your hands fly out gesturing, "i can't remember a single damn thing, but i feel this void. this huge empty space and i don't know what it is, but i know you're supposed to fill it."
sukuna's hands begin to tremble, "you need to leave. you don't even know what you're saying."
your eyes flash and you step closer jabbing a finger into his chest, staring up at him, you're practically nose to nose. "i know exactly what i'm saying, and i've spent over a month following a dead end trail, trying to figure out who you are, sukuna." you feel your chest beginning to heave, "i'm tired of everyone acting like i'm made of glass and keeping things hidden from me."
sukuna doesn't move, his breathing has grown shallow, "they're protecting you."
you scoff, "i don't give a damn! and i have a feeling you'd normally be the first person to tell everyone to stop acting like i'm a fucking porcelain doll. so please, just tell me. show me— anything! who were we?"
he closes his eyes, and you can see he's struggling. "you want to know that bad?"
"yes," your voice is softer, "i've been going insane because it feels like i'm missing a part of me that i never knew existed, a part of me that's vital to who i am and who i became, and i can't just keep pretending everything is okay."
sukuna sighs, takes a step back and opens the door wider, "fine."
your eyes widen a fraction, and you step in, and as you pass him the scent of cedar and spice hits you. you can't help it when your eyes flutter shut and you inhale, and sukuna scoffs, but it almost sounds fond.
you crack your eyes open to see him shutting the door and rolling his eyes at you, "you always did sniff me like a damn dog."
"excuse me?"
he doesn't even bother acknowledging you, "come on, we can sit on the couch. you're lucky cho is spending the night at mom's tonight."
you blink, "cho? like choso?"
sukuna gives you a deadpan look, "yeah? who else?"
a little facet of information clicks in your mind, "you're his brother."
"yeah," he says, eyeing you. "come on."
you trail behind him to the adjacent living room, he flips on a dim lamp and gestures for you to take a seat. there's a soft green blanket slung over the back, you reach for it without thinking as you sink down to the left side. he watches with something warring in his expression. then he finally takes a seat facing you at the other end.
"alright, how do you want to do this?" he asks, clearly unsure of what the hell is going on.
"do you have any photos? maybe some videos? of… us?" you ask hands finding home in the blanket, "i have none and maybe that'll… help?"
sukuna nods, "yeah. but if this gets to be too much you need to say something or i'll call your damn brother. got it?"
you glare, "you're pretty freaking bossy, that a normal thing or are you just in a mood?"
"god, even taking away your memories didn't make you any less of a goddamn brat."
instinctively you fling your foot out and kick him in the knee, "who're you calling a brat, huh?"
something fond and soft crosses his face for just a moment, before he reaches into his sweats and pulls out his phone. "where do you want me to start?"
you shrug, "the beginning? maybe you could tell me about us? how we met?"
the corners of his lips twitch up faintly, "you bulldozed me on the sidewalk, and stained your 'vintage seventy dollar shirt' with my slushie." he pitches his voice high as if mocking you.
"i bulldozed you? as if, you probably ran me over like a brute," you huff, arms crossing over your chest. in the back of your mind, you recognize that sitting here, bickering, something that's been boiling over for the last month has… gone quiet. it almost feels like coming home.
sukuna laughs, it's short and faint but it makes something warm begin to bloom in your chest. "whatever, sweetheart. let's start from june two years ago, come here." he gestures to the spot closer to him, and you move without thinking, closing the gap between you. you realize then he'd just called you sweetheart, but it just… it sounds right. as if that's what he's meant to call you, nothing else.
you tilt your head to get a better look at his phone, "alright, let's see it."
he adjusts, and he clicks on the first photo he ever took of you, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face.
"when we met you were the brattiest person i had ever come across in my life…"
the world around you begins to fade, and all that's left is the two of you hunched over his phone, as he begins to show you an entire life you'd forgotten.
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at some point you'd moved into sukuna's room, you're not quite sure when. it was somewhere between the photos from the aquarium and what seemed to be the millionth video of you and yuiji at a dinosaur park. sukuna had paused the video and said, "there's some stuff i can show you, if you want."
he showed you a variety of things he'd accumulated during your time together. ticket stubs that matched yours, little trinkets you'd given him, the uggs you got him for his birthday, different odds and ends. he'd even shown you the slushie maker that sits on his kitchen counter, the other present you'd given him for his birthday.
you're standing by his bed when you glance at the canvas hanging over his bed, you recognize it. and now the memory of choso saying his brother owned this particular painting made more sense. "you've kept it up this entire time?" you ask, turning to face sukuna who's rummaging through his desk drawers for something.
he pauses and turns to face you, "i couldn't take it down."
"you know what it means right?"
sukuna looks at you, "i know what you felt when you painted it, and i know that the moment i saw it it resonated with me."
"and you… don't mind?"
"no, it's a part of you."
you feel your heart stutter at that. "i still…" you frown, "you've shown me so much tonight, and i want to remember it, to feel it so bad but—," you exhale frustrated. "i don't and i don't understand it."
sukuna sighs, "you can't keep trying to force it."
"are you okay with that? if i don't… remember?"
he's quiet for a moment, "it doesn't matter if you have your memories or not. you're still the same brat i met nearly two years ago."
a sense of fondness floods your senses, "this is the first night i've felt… whole again. that i've felt like me, even if i don't remember everything."
sukuna lets you talk, he watches with that careful stillness.
"i want to be friends, if you're okay with that. i know it's probably weird but… nobody else feels this way," you shift your weight a bit. "we were clearly best friends and it's like… my brain doesn't remember that but my heart does."
"okay," he says.
"okay?"
"yeah, it's honestly somewhat of a miracle i managed this long before you came banging on my door."
you glare, "you say that like you didn't want me to."
"maybe i didn't," he arches an eyebrow, "ever think of that?"
"oh whatever, those photos tell a very different story." you smile to yourself, and take a seat at the edge of his bed. "can we go get a burger? i've been thinking about that diner since i saw it last month." he'd shown you photos of the two of you there, and it made sense now why you couldn't get it out of your head.
sukuna's deep chuckle fills the room. "let's go, sweetheart."
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around a week or so after you'd gone to sukuna's you're in the art room, gathering your things to leave because you had dinner plans with shoko tonight. before you can get more than halfway across the classroom your teacher calls your name, making you pause and turn to look at her.
"yeah?" you ask, looking at her, professor nemuri.
"the art contest they emailed me because they haven't been able to get a hold of you. you won," she's grinning, "they want to show your paintings at the exhibition in august, and if you still want it the internship starts this june."
you furrow your eyebrows. "what contest?"
professor nemuri tilts her head, "oh, do you not remember? sorry i should've thought about that…" she pauses for a second. "come with me," she gestures towards the back of the room, where a door sits. "you'll want to see this."
the backroom is well lit from the skylight overhead, and lining the back wall is a series of paintings. you feel almost as if you're in a trance as you walk over to them, eyes tracing along the story it tells. all of it feels somewhat familiar to you but it's the last painting that stands out to you and nearly takes your breath away.
it's a canvas drenched in black, depicting the night sky, and high soaring above, the moon dances in the night with icarus, a glow surrounding the pair. there isn't a worry of the wings melting and falling down, because the moon and icarus work together perfectly, as if they're meant to be.
"oh," you don't know what else to say, because this set of paintings clearly told something that came from deep within you. "and what contest was this exactly?"
you listen as professor nemuri explains the details to you, it's almost surreal that the paintings born from your deepest emotions have been chosen for display. after she finishes, you swallow and nod, "thank you for showing me." she gives your shoulder a soft squeeze, before she leaves you standing there admiring your work.
"huh, i must've really loved the moon."
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sukuna fit back into your life and filled up the hole in your heart you couldn't quite fix until you found him again. you still had your regular routine and you still see your friends and get coffee with satoru but, being around sukuna is almost magnetic. you cannot help but be drawn to him anytime he's near.
he begins to attend the days you go to the gym with toji, though the elder man has you on a very strict and light routine much to your annoyance. sukuna asks you to come to his games, and you attend happily, sitting front row in the bleachers shouting his name. you begin to take yuiji out for ice cream and the park again when you have the time, and you swear the boy could make the sun look dim when you first picked him up together. things that you didn't recall but knew existed, seem to just… resume as if they were merely on hiatus.
you find yourself calling sukuna late at night often whether it's to talk about your day or beg him to take you for food. and you slowly start to notice little things about your friendship. the way it feels when you lean into his shoulder and how the scent of his cologne puts you at ease. you begin to notice that your heart skips a little when he laughs, and your hands grow clammy whenever he aims that devilish smirk your way.
the thing that does you in though? the way he calls you sweetheart as if that's simply who you always have been and always will be. you begin to notice that you crave these things, that you look forward to them more and more.
one day, you're at his apartment, sitting on the couch pressed to sukuna's side. his legs spread as he watches the movie you'd selected for the evening. tonight was another night of just the two of you, as choso was once again stuck helping with yuiji at their mom's house.
you have your knees tucked into your chest and you're trying your hardest to pay attention to the movie but it's so hard when sukuna sits next to you, his lips quirking up just a bit at parts that wouldn't be funny to any other person considering this is a horror film.
your gaze keeps drifting over to him and his lips and you feel heat begin to pool in your belly and your heart begin to race. somewhere around the second half of the film you seem to lose your filter entirely as you stare at him, "hey, sukuna?"
he glances down, "hm?"
"this is going to sound really weird but…" your eyes flicker from his eyes down to his lips and back up, "i really want to kiss you."
you feel his body stiffen against yours and you immediately regret the words leaving your mouth. as quickly as you can you begin to back track, "oh god," you say. "that was weird, i made it weird. i can't believe i just said that— i should've told you that i liked you first, shit—,"
sukuna is still staring at you, eyes wide and lips parted in surprise. his brain seems to have completely crashed and overloaded. "wait. you…" he points at you, "have feelings for me?" he says it as if he can't quite believe it.
you furrow your eyebrows because really that's the part he's stuck on? "uhm, yes that is what i just said. do you need to clean your ears out or something?" you begin to open your mouth to continue rambling on, until sukuna's hand finds your jaw, and he crashes his lips onto yours.
a content hum leaves you as you melt into him, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. it's like you're finally giving into something that was inevitable and written in the stars. butterflies swarm in your stomach, though to be honest they're almost like angry buzzing wasps. after an eternity the two of you finally break apart, just slightly to catch your breath, but he keeps his forehead pressed to yours.
"you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that." he mumbles against your lips, his crimson eyes half-lidded.
you laugh, your lips quirking into a soft smile. "i have a feeling that should've happened a very long time ago."
"mhm, but you've always been a bit of an oblivious airhead."
"you're really insulting me right after i confessed?"
sukuna snorts, and leans back a bit more, and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. "would you have me any other way?"
"no," you sigh. "i really wouldn't."
the two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the moment, until you finally ask. "so, i'm your girlfriend now right?"
"you're just appointing yourself?" sukuna snorts.
"i don't see you doing it."
he rolls his eyes, "yeah. i guess this makes you mine, sweetheart." he tries to sound unaffected as he tilts his head back against the couch, but you can see the faint grin he's trying to suppress.
you don't hide yours, and snuggle yourself deeper into his side. "cool," you say. "so, boyfriend, i think you should take me on a date for burgers—,"
he groans. "fine, let me put my damn shoes on."
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before you announce it to anyone, you decide to tell satoru during your morning coffee run so that he isn't blindsided. though he's been a bit distant since you began rekindling your friendship with sukuna anyways, you still feel as if you owe it to him. especially considering he pushed you towards sukuna rather than away from him.
the two of you end up at the little bookstore coffee shop you visited when he first came back into your life last spring, almost exactly a year ago now. he sits across from you in the same worn in armchair, "so, you said you had something important to tell me?" he takes a sip of his disgustingly sweet drink and waits for you to speak.
you nod, hands wrapping around your own cup. "i wanted to tell you before anyone else, and i thought it would be better if you heard it from me."
satoru's eyes flicker and you can tell he already knows what you're about to say, "you finally realized it for yourself, huh?"
you blink, "wait, what do you mean?"
"sukuna," he says with a faint smile. you can see the mixture of emotions swirling in his eyes. "you realized how you really felt about him."
of course satoru can see through you, he always has. "yeah," you feel this weight lifting off of you. "i told him yesterday, and we've decided to try."
"good," he nods. "i mean that, genuinely. i've had enough time to sit with myself and think about things. sukuna… he loves you. he truly does, for everything that you are, have been, and will be. you've never looked at me the way you look at him," he pauses. "and that's okay. i won't lie and say it isn't hard or that it doesn't hurt, and i will… need some time. just so i can truly move on, i'll still— i'll always be here but just give me a bit, okay?"
you feel your grip tightening and your lips wobbling, "dammit, 'toru. i didn't want to cry before class—," you set your drink down on the table and rub at your eyes with the hem of your sleeve. "yet here i am, crying because you've gone and actually grown up and become mature—,"
he cuts you off there, "hey now, let's not get too crazy i've always been mature—,"
"yeah, okay." you scoff rolling your eyes, but then you soften again and give him a genuine smile. "thank you."
you mean it, you really do.
he sets his drink down beside yours and reaches for your hand, gently settling his own over it. "you'll always be my best friend, sunshine. that doesn't change," he squeezes just a bit. "we'll be back to normal in no time."
"i like the sound of that," you flip your hand over so you can squeeze back. "i've got to get to class, will you be at movie night?"
he gives you a rueful smile, "probably not for a bit."
you swallow, accepting that he needs space. "okay, but door's always open."
"i know."
gently you pull your hand away, grab your bag and drink, and head to class, shutting a chapter of your life you never thought would close.
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the month of spring passes by in a warm glow that you've never experienced before. you've never done anything like this before so it's a learning curve, having a partner. though it's also not really that different from how things were prior to you spilling your guts. while you still couldn't quite remember everything with sukuna from the previous two years, you had this instinct, this ingrained response to him.
sukuna doesn't change hardly at all. he still teases you and tells you when you're being a brat. there's not any obvious softening, because he'd already always treated you like gold, but he doesn't baby you. in the gym he still pushes you to the brink, well as close as he can before toji snaps and tells him to behave, claiming you're still not ready. sukuna just rolls his eyes at toji and tells him you're perfectly fine, the doctors have zero concerns physically anymore. toji just tells him to pipe down.
the two of you don't really change the way you go on dates. you still go for late night drives, eat at the diner at odd hours, go to museums, take yuiji out for ice cream. the only thing that's actually changed is that now you're allowed to kiss him. this is something that his nephew constantly gags at when it occurs anywhere in his vicinity.
june hits you like a tidal wave, coming out of nowhere. the semester ended during the last week of may, so you already have a bit of free time before you begin your internship with the art gallery later this month. it's the first week of june, specifically june 7th, and you're over at sukuna's apartment, the both of you having nothing better to do.
it's early afternoon, so choso is at the shop, but you've been mulling the idea over all day on ambushing him. currently though, you're filling up your cup with a green apple slushie, while sukuna finishes showering. you're humming to yourself, dressed in a summer outfit, you're wearing the lacy vintage top sukuna always rolls his eyes at whenever you bring it out. perhaps you'd drag him out to walk the streets downtown today.
you grin satisfied when your cup is filled, quickly pressing the lid down and jamming a pink straw straight through the top. "mmm, i was definitely a very smart woman." you mumble to yourself as you take a sip of your drink.
you're leaning against the kitchen counter now, elbows on the marble, drink in one hand. you feel like a cat soaking up the sunbeam, tilting your head to the side and closing your eyes. the straw sits against your lips, and you begin to take another drink when you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling you tight against their chest.
the scent of cedar and spice envelops you, and you let your head tilt back and rest against the warmth of his collarbone. sukuna freshly after showering was one of your favorite things, he always makes fun of you for the way you inhale his scent like it's a drug. as the scent worms its way deeper into your skin you feel something beginning to fracture within the edges of your mind.
your free hand comes up to touch your temple, an ache forming beneath your fingertips. as you gently knead the spot you take another sip of your drink, and the moment the cold liquid touches your tongue it's like fireworks light up your nerves. a gasp escapes your lips as you teeter forward, the cup slipping from your grasp and splattering against the kitchen tile. you brace your hands on the countertop trying to steady yourself as a flood of images begin to flicker past your mind's eye.
"shit, sweetheart?" you're faintly aware of sukuna's concerned voice and his hand resting atop your shoulder. then you become aware of the tears that are starting to pour down your cheeks as if a dam had just broken. something in your chest cracks open as you struggle to get in a proper breath, so many feelings and memories slam into you all at once.
at first it's overwhelming and hard to navigate all this new information that's resurfacing from some place you'd thought was lost forever. you slowly loosen your grip on the counter and sink to your knees, placing your palms on your thighs, fingers tightening into the bare skin.
sukuna moves with you without question. "you're kinda freakin' me out, brat. what is happening?"
you swallow hard, still breathing in short uneven bursts, but you manage to turn yourself so you're facing him on the kitchen floor, the remnants of your slushie just inches away. he looks startled at the look of you, your eyes glistening with another round of unshed tears, your throat working, and fingers trembling. "i remember," you whisper.
something hopeful and scared crosses his face, "you?—,"
a wobbly smile spreads across your face as you nod, sniffling. "yeah," you laugh it's a thick wet noise. "i'm so fucking sorry, 'kuna." you reach for his face, your palms settling along his jawline, "the crash, everything, i remember."
sukuna has gone very still in your hands, and you can feel the way he's beginning to lose control of his composure. the way his jaw tightens beneath your gentle grip. "and do you remember who—," he cuts himself off almost as if he's scared to hear the answer, scared it'll shatter everything they've built these last few months.
a loud heaving sob escapes your lips, "it was you. i was going to tell you before—," your lips press together for just a moment. you breathe shakily, "i was going to tell you that i was in love with you."
the moment the words land is the moment the last thread of his composure snaps, he's falling forward, forehead dropping to your shoulder, and your arms wind their way around him. the two of you stay on the kitchen tile, soaking up the revelation, that this is real, that even before all of this you'd chosen him.
"i love you," he whispers against your skin.
your heart does this fluttery thing, "i love you too." your hands find their way to his hair, fingers carding through it with familiar ease, random moments coming to mind where you'd done this exact gesture over the last two years. "there's something i think i should show you."
he lifts his head, and looks at you. "what?"
you smile, "it's a surprise but, i think… it'll make a lot more sense if you're looking at it." and that, is how you end up leading him to the art studio on campus that houses your paintings until august when they'll be displayed for the world to see.
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it's late afternoon when you make it to the art studio, professor nemuri had let you keep a key despite summer break beginning, that way you can come and go as you please. sukuna is quiet as you weave through the easels towards the back of the room, hands intertwined. he glances around the room, he'd been here many times when you'd stay so late you'd forget to eat, but there's something different about this moment.
you pause at the door to the backroom, and give yourself just one moment before you open it. "it's… it's a lot okay?" you say, "so… just. let it sink in."
"you're being pretty weird." he says, but he doesn't press.
with a huff your hand wraps around the handle and you push the door open, revealing your eight canvases displayed on their easels beneath the skylight. starting from the very beginning of your story where icarus flew too close to the sun. sukuna gently releases your hand and steps forward to take in the pieces before him.
his eyes drift over each one, taking in the hidden meaning of each canvas. the start of the story shows you burning from loving satoru, and falling into a place of darkness. and through that darkness the light of the moon begins to guide you, helping you seal the cracks and reforge your wings. towards the middle the canvas that shows the sun and the moon overhead sharing the sky, and they begin to pull you in two. the second to last painting is profound, it's an eclipse blocking both the celestial bodies, leaving you chained to the earth.
sukuna drifts to the final painting, fingers gently brushing the edges of the canvas. the moon and the figure dancing in the night sky, looking as if this is exactly where they were always meant to be. he slowly turns around, his eyes finding yours with so much emotion you nearly can't speak.
"this is your story," he says voice rough. "our story."
you nod, "yeah. it is." then you take a few steps forward until you're right in front of him, fingertips gliding up his arm, until you reach the nape of his neck and toy with the back of his hair. "sukuna," you're looking directly into those crimson eyes of his. "you were right, that day in toji's gym. when you'd said it was fate pushing us together."
he begins to speak but you drop your hand from his neck and place your fingers against his lips and shake your head. "just, listen. please?"
for a moment you wait, until you're sure he's going to be quiet. then you take a shaky breath. "i have fallen in love with you multiple times now," you begin. "i didn't realize i was in love with you at first," you smile. "it was pretty obvious though, huh?"
his lips twitch against your fingers.
"and then everything became messy and complicated. i realized after thanksgiving when i lost you, when i truly lost you that i couldn't breathe without you. satoru and i—," you swallow. "he told me the truth about the fourth of july and i was so overwhelmed that i couldn't—," your voice breaks. "all i wanted was you, and i couldn't have you so i came here, to the studio and i painted the final piece of my art collection. the other pieces were easy they came to me without a hitch but this one," your eyes glance over. "it didn't come to me until i had lost what i had. and that's why i ended up at that party because i needed to drown out the pain of losing you."
despite the heaviness of your confession you smile, "and then you carried me out like a misbehaving brat, like you always do. i was so mad because i just wanted you to come back. then we argued and you told me to choose and— i was going to choose you. i was," your voice breaks. "but apparently fate decided we weren't ready yet."
you're shaking a bit, "and then i lost my memories. that first month or so without you? even though i had no idea who you were it was as if i had lost a limb. when satoru pushed me to finally go see you, it was as if i could breathe again after being trapped under water."
the words just keep tumbling out you can't seem to stop. "you still let me in despite me having no clue who you were, you still were my best friend despite everything i put you through— and even without any recollection of you, i fell in love with you, for the third time." your eyes are shining brightly, "and today, when everything came back? i fell in love with you for a fourth time, and god sukuna, i really hope i get to keep falling in love with you again and again, for the rest of our lives."
finally you breathe, and let everything land. you slowly remove your fingers, bringing your hand back down to your side. sukuna is watching you, and you're starting to feel a bit nervous as you shift your weight from one side to the other. "are you going to say anything or—," he cuts you off by wrapping a hand around your hip, and the other at the base of your skull, and crashing his lips to yours.
it's like the accumulation of two years hits you all at once as you kiss beneath the skylight. the world seems to tilt on its axis and your knees grow weak but sukuna keeps you anchored just like he always has. you're growing dizzy by the time he pulls away, "i wouldn't change it," he tells you. "any of it."
you laugh lightly, "really? you wouldn't even change satoru coming back?"
"no." and you know he means it. "as much as the dumbass annoys me, he is part of you. i love you for everything you are. the past, the present, the future." his thumb brushes against your jaw, "i think— all of that bullshit was fate's way of making sure this was meant to be."
your eyes crinkle at the edges as you grin up at him, "yeah? and what do you think? is this meant to be?"
he scoffs, "clearly you still have a few screws loose even though your memory came back."
slowly the rest of the sunlight fades from the sky, and as you stand there in front of the paintings you poured your heart and soul into, the moon begins to rise, bathing you in its silver tinged glow. sukuna's right, you're exactly where you're supposed to be.
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summer is something you only ever read about in romance novels. okay, well maybe not fully because you're dating sukuna, but the overall feeling? it's like you're living in a dream. the two of you make the most of every moment you get together. he takes you back to the aquarium, and he kisses you in front of the kelp forest. you work up the courage to go back to the cabin from thanksgiving, he manages to help you find the cliff you'd sat on all alone. he holds your hand there, and you let yourself feel the brush on the ground and remind yourself you're safe, you've healed.
the fourth of july is an event, instead of going to the beach house, you spend it with the itadoris and co. which in retrospect is likely far more dangerous than yuki throwing a last minute party. toji smuggled in illegal fireworks and was lighting them off as if he had a little too much experience with such things. the kids held out their sparklers beneath the night sky, spelling their names on the pavement. delia made far too much food, choso got drunk off two seltzers, uraume managed to come just in time for the fireworks. jin was trying to manage the children, and definitely failing.
and sukuna— he nearly caught your hair on fire by aiming a roman candle a bit too close to your head. you'd slugged him in the stomach in the middle of the street.
your internship takes up most of your time during the week, and sukuna begins to grow busy with the pre-season. though, you never fail to make time for each other, you're at each other's apartments every night almost. trading every so often as not to annoy your respective siblings.
the month of august approaches rapidly, and with it comes the exhibition where your eight paintings will be on display for everyone to see. you're nervous and excited all at once, it's hard to decipher which emotion is causing the buzzing in your veins.
of course, the day of the event, you find yourself sat at your vanity being poked and prodded at by none other than yuki, as she makes sure you look 'perfect' for your big night.
"ah, ah!" yuki chides, fingers gripping your chin and tilting your head up. "i need to get the highlight on your cheekbones."
you groan, "is this really necessary?"
she makes a noise of offense, her blonde eyebrows drawing together. "are you being serious right now?" she glances over your head, "you guys hear her right?"
shoko and utahime meet her eyes from where they're sprawled across your bed, already dressed and ready for the evening. "mhm," shoko hums, before turning her attention back to her phone. utahime just snorts and does the same, the two watching something and muttering to each other.
"whatever," yuki mumbles. "you're going to look gorgeous tonight," she tells you. "and you will be just as eye catching as the paintings in there."
"thanks, yu."
eventually she finishes her work, patting your shoulders gently. she'd already fixed up your hair to her liking, "now get yourself into that dress, your lover boy will be here soon."
you rise to your feet and stretch, a groan slipping past your glossy lips. "he'd be livid if he heard you call him that."
"he can cry about it." she replies waving a dismissive hand.
on your way to your bathroom you grab the bundle of fabric yuki had chosen for the event. she chose perfectly, the dress fits like a glove and you do feel like a piece of art when you glance in the mirror. when you finish adjusting it you head back into your room, "alright, i'll see you guys there. thank you," you look over at yuki for the last bit. "you're right, it does look good."
yuki grins, "i know."
eventually sukuna arrives, he's dressed decent, though he certainly isn't wearing a full suit. not that you'd ever expect him to, he's wearing a nice button down and slacks, his tattoos on full display. during the ride to the venue he reaches over and places a palm on your thigh, his thumb tracing mindless patterns across your skin. the gesture soothes your nerves, he can always tell when you're starting to get into your head.
"it's going to be fine."
you huff, "easy for you to say, it's not your art on display for hundreds of people to see."
"no, but if it was i'd be pretty damn proud."
that earns him a small smile.
it's only thirty minutes to the venue, you're there early, as requested. the first hour is talking with the curator and wandering the gallery so you can get a glimpse before it begins to fill up. sukuna stays at your side the entire time, his hand warm against the small of your back. when the doors open, you're not shocked that the first people who tumble through the door are the girls and suguru.
they greet you, kisses to your cheek, affectionate squeezes to your arm, then they're off snagging flutes of champagne so they can go soak in your exhibit. you remain closer to the front, not wanting to see people's reactions to the paintings yet, you needed to work up your courage for that.
the next group that comes through the doors is sukuna's mother, delia and choso. the tattoo artist gives you a side hug, and tells you he always knew your art was extraordinary. then he drifts off towards the exhibit and finds himself tugged into conversation by yuki.
delia doesn't go to see the art immediately instead she reaches up and places her warm hands lightly to your cheeks, holding your face in her hands with that soft smile of hers. "i am so proud of you," she says tears in her eyes. you're thankful jin had offered to watch the kids tonight so that her and toji could both come this evening.
"thank you," you say, emotion getting caught in your throat. "means the world to me that you're here."
"i wouldn't miss it for anything, sweetie." she pats your cheeks before dropping her hands, "i'm going to go take a look now, i love you both." she reaches over to squeeze sukuna's hand then she's drifting off towards the rest of your crew.
you sigh, it's more of a sigh of contentment, happiness. though you're beginning to wonder where the hell toji is. he promised he'd be here, he's the last person you're expecting. uraume couldn't get out of clinicals, and your parents got called into the OR last minute, but your mom told you to get pictures, and that they'd take you out to dinner soon. which… was weird as it is. you're not used to them caring about any of your achievements.
then you hear the familiar thud of boots, and you look up to see toji walking towards you. he's in a white t-shirt that stretches across his broad chest, nice jeans, and combat boots. you can't help but laugh, but it's toji and you know the man would sooner come nude than in formal wear.
"wow princess," he drawls. "pretty fancy. don't go forgetting us little folks when you're famous."
"oh shut up," you say with an eye roll.
he smirks, lips tilting. "guess i gotta go see what all the fuss is about, huh?" then, he reaches down and ruffles your hair.
"toji you pri—," he's already walking towards delia before you can finish your sentence. your eye twitches as you reach up to fix the damage he's done to your hair. "god, he's a prick."
sukuna snorts, "you knew that when you invited him."
"we should go over there now, huh?"
"if that's what you want."
you nod, fingers flexing and curling, then you turn and head towards your family and friends. sukuna follows, hand never leaving its place at your back. you watch from a short distance as they all absorb various sections of your work, there's strangers in the mix now too, milling about talking and interpreting the paint you'd put on canvas.
it's surreal.
this is a long way from the art auction in high school.
you're not sure how much time passes as you watch the crowd in front of you. eventually sukuna bends down and murmurs in your ear that he'll be back in a bit. he doesn't elaborate on where he's going but you assume he's probably heading to find the catering. you stand there alone, a server passes by with another tray of champagne, you snatch a flute for yourself.
you watch with rapt attention, the surroundings around you growing fuzzy. until you feel a warm presence at your side, and you get the strangest feeling in your heart before you even tilt your head to see them.
"hey, sunshine."
your head snaps towards the voice, fingers tightening around the flute in your hand. "satoru?"
he grins sheepishly. "hope you don't mind me crashing your big day."
"i didn't think you'd—,"
"sukuna texted me."
you blink, "he did?"
satoru laughs, and it feels like you've just gained a gift you'd forgotten existed. "yeah, he told me it was important to you. figured as your best friend, i better show."
tears begin to well up in your eyes, you gnaw on the inside of your cheek to quell them. yuki would absolutely murder you if you ruined her hard work. "thank you," you tell him, meaning it with every fiber in your being. "really."
he gives you a small private smile, one reserved just for you, then he lifts his head and takes in the story you put to canvas. "it's beautiful," he says. "it's telling a story."
you swallow nervously, "yeah, it is."
satoru is looking towards the second half of the paintings, and you can't help but watch his face as he absorbs them. you expect to see sadness, pain, maybe a flicker of disappointment but instead, you see fondness. "it was really obvious, wasn't it?"
you take a sip of your champagne, waiting for him to continue.
"it was always him," he turns his gaze towards you now. "i'm truly happy for you, both of you. he's everything you deserve."
"yeah," you agree. "he really is."
the two of you stand there in comfortable silence for a moment longer, until you notice something off about his appearance. you squint your eyes, and you realize, he's wearing the most god awful socks you've ever seen in your life, his slacks just short enough that you can see them. "what are you wearing on your feet?" you immediately hiss, "satoru— those are ugly!" they're some ungodly orange with fuzzy green tufts sticking out from random spots.
he frowns, "they are not."
you look at him as if he cannot possibly be serious. "you're joking."
"you're being kinda judgmental—,"
"i'm telling you that what you have on is offensive to my eyes."
"hey—!"
just as you're about to continue your argument you sense two people come up behind you. you glance over your shoulder, suguru comes up on your left, and shoko appears at satoru's other side. they're both holding their own glasses and looking rather amused.
"so, is the cold war over?" shoko asks, not looking at either of you.
"cold war?—"
suguru snorts, "she means are we finally going back to normal? because the last year has frankly been exhausting."
"excuse me?" you huff throwing him a glare. "you're my twin you're supposed to love me no matter what."
"did i say i didn't love you? no. i said you're exhausting."
"okay so like is there some unwritten stipulation to irritate me on my big night or—,"
satoru laughs, then slings his arms around both your and shoko's shoulders, "i missed this, the four of us." you soften a bit, then you grab suguru's arm and tug him into the smooshed up group hug.
"me too," you agree.
something that'd been sitting heavy ever since you told him you'd chosen sukuna seems to lift off your chest. you let your head rest on his shoulder and smile looking ahead at the collection of your paintings. across the room you spot sukuna, he's standing with choso, he catches your eyes and gives you a half smirk, and you shake your head a bit. he knew this is what you needed on your big night.
god you loved him.
"so," suguru begins. "movie night?"
"i'll be there." satoru says.
you let the night pass by after that, finally feeling all the puzzle pieces in your life slot back together.
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you're sitting on sukuna's bed, it's nearly one o'clock in the morning and you're tired from the evening. after the exhibit ended you were able to gather your paintings to bring them home, they're currently tucked into sukuna's back seat. speaking of which, he'd ran back downstairs muttering about how he'd forgotten his wallet.
currently you're unbuckling your heels, and kicking them off, letting your feet stretch and breathe after a long night. you lean back onto your hands, head tilted back, letting your eyes slide shut. you hear the sound of sukuna coming back into the apartment and locking the front door, and seconds later he's easing the bedroom door open and gently shutting it.
you don't bother opening your eyes yet, a bit too tired to even try.
until you feel the bed dip, you crack them open and see sukuna reaching up and pulling the watchtower painting down from the spot it's rested for closer to three years now. you blink, a bit confused at the sudden change— until you see him set it down against his nightstand and grab a different canvas. you watch as he hangs it in the same spot, adjusting it until it sits evenly over the bed.
the moon and icarus stare back at you.
you look at him as he settles onto the bed at your side, "figured it was time to put something that was us up there." he says simply before you can even ask.
"yeah?"
he nods reaching a hand back and placing it over the top of yours, "and in a few years, i'm going to make sure you have a studio where you'll be able to display our whole story."
the air whooshes out of your lungs, and you can't form a proper thought. "have you been thinking about this?"
"of course."
you shake your head, a fond smile stretching across your lips. then you sit up just enough that you can take his face into your hand, "thank you, for loving me the way that you do."
"thank you for letting me."
you tilt your head, and close the space between the two of you, and you melt into the arms of the moon.
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EPILOGUE
time passes within the blink of an eye, two years later and you're freshly graduated and living in your own apartment with sukuna. he's officially on the chargers, and you're working out what you want to do for a studio. you know you want to teach classes, and you want to display your art. so, a gallery and studio if you will.
now, this is very important because sukuna has a whole plan, or at least… he's forming one. and he's beginning to rethink his choices because his partner in this scheme is a fucking idiot.
"so," satoru begins eyes drifting over the jewelry case below. "you really think she'll say yes?"
sukuna stops what he's doing, which is inspecting a ring that the jeweler had handed over, he sets it back down on the glass and looks at the supposed genius aerospace engineer to his left. "the fuck does that mean?"
"just… you know…" he shrugs, "what if she doesn't? that'd be pretty awkward."
"we have been together for over two years." sukuna grits out, "she's been leaving her laptop open to a pinterest board titled 'future wedding' she's going to say yes."
satoru shrugs, "mmm."
"if you keep this up i'm going to leave your ass stranded here, gojo."
they're currently about three hours away from town. somehow he'd managed to make up a bullshit excuse that they're going on a guys trip. you believed him without question because unfortunately, the blue-eyed man beside him had become a parasite he couldn't shake. never in all his years did he think he'd have to deal with the clinginess of his former love rival, but here he is, picking out your engagement ring with the man himself.
"you'd never," satoru grins. "what about that one?" he's pointing to a ring a few rows over, and sukuna's eyes drift and he takes it in. damn the bastard, he really does know you.
sukuna looks at the jeweler who is shifting awkwardly in place, "grab me that one."
the man does as he's told, exchanging the ring sukuna had set down for the one satoru had pointed at. sukuna holds it in the air and tilts it, the gemstones gleam, it's set beautifully. but what stands out about it is the small crescent moon engraved on the side of the ring itself.
"can you size it?" sukuna asks looking at the employee.
"uh," he nods. "yes, whatever size is needed, sir. and we can size up the stone—,"
"it's fine." he says handing the ring back, "i want it sized properly, and mail it to this idiot's address."
as he begins to pull his wallet out, satoru rattles off his address and contact information, they'd already agreed he'd handle keeping the ring until the proposal and all communication needed. your nosy ass would sniff out what's happening like a bloodhound and sukuna is not going to let you spoil your own engagement.
once they finish up, they exit the shop, they're both wearing black baseball caps, tinted sunglasses, and face masks to avoid anyone recognizing them. at this point in their lives they're both pretty recognizable by the media— sukuna from being an nfl player and gojo from being a big wig science nerd.
"sooo," satoru begins again and sukuna audibly groans. "ring's sorted, what's next? you gonna take her to the aquarium again? the cabin? do it at home?"
"do you know how to shut up?"
"hey, you asked me for help!"
sukuna rolls his eyes, "yeah because if i asked suguru she'd fucking know. they have that creepy ass telepathy thing going on."
"hey so do we—,"
"that is not the same, dumbass."
satoru huffs, "alright, fine. what were you thinking, prince charming?"
"i bought her a studio." he says it casually as if remarking on the sun in the sky, hands stuffed deeply in his hoodie pocket. he almost doesn't notice that satoru has stopped walking until he's a few paces ahead, he comes to a halt and turns to look at the other man. "what?"
"you bought her a studio. not even rented, you bought it."
sukuna scowls, it can't be seen beneath the mask but it's evident in the way his shoulders roll forward and tighten. "yeah? so what? it's not a big deal."
"uhhh, that's a pretty big deal. this is her lifelong dream, sukuna." for once satoru isn't joking or poking fun, "where is it?"
"you know the space directly across the parking lot from toji's? it's a decent size and has good natural lighting. i closed on it a few days ago."
satoru stares at him, "that had to cost a fortune."
"yeah well we still live in a shitty apartment and i don't waste my money on stupid shit, i had the cash."
it's evident in the way satoru's shoulders loosen and he shakes his head, "you really do love her."
"i wouldn't be doing any of this shit if i didn't."
"yeah yeah, i know," satoru says. then he begins walking again, "alright so you bought the studio. let's get it set up inside, just enough— and you can do it there."
sukuna sighs, "that's what i was implying, idiot."
"you're so mean to me, even after all these years!"
"because you make it too easy."
the two bicker the entire way back to the car, as they begin to plan how the proposal is going to play out. gojo is surprisingly competent in the planning aspect. it's when it comes to lying to you that everything begins to go south.
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sukuna and satoru had been acting weird ever since they came back from their little boys trip. you were growing suspicious of them, and so you began to poke around to figure out what on earth they're hiding from you. however anytime you question sukuna he's as stubborn as a brick wall, you can't get any sort of reaction or slip up from him.
satoru, is significantly less put together than your boyfriend.
the two of you are getting brunch, not uncommon, you try to make time at minimum once a week for the two of you to catch up one on one. you're cutting into your food, and watching him shift in his seat, shoving food into his mouth with a bit too much aggression.
"satoru," you tilt your head, your hands stilling, setting your cutlery on your plate. "are you alright?"
he jumps like he's been caught, "yes! why wouldn't i be? these pancakes are amazing!"
you narrow your eyes, "you're acting weird."
"i'm not acting weird, you're acting weird!"
yep, they're definitely hiding something. your lips press together for a moment, "satoru." you watch as he goes still, his eyes darting to you, then away. "spit it out."
"so actually," he laughs nervously, then glances at the currently black screen of his apple watch. "looks like there's an emergency at work. gotta go!"
you watch in complete disbelief as he gets up, tosses cash from his wallet on the table, leaves his half-eaten food behind, and practically sprints out of the restaurant without so much as a glance back at you.
"what the hell?" you mutter to yourself, frowning. then you sigh, and begin to eat your food, you wouldn't waste a perfectly good brunch. you decide you'll interrogate your boyfriend again when you're finished here.
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"are you fucking stupid?!"
"i panicked!"
"yeah and made us look totally guilty, you fucking moron!"
"she's psychic sukuna! she could read my mind i had to leave—,"
"oh my god."
sukuna scrubs a hand over his face, and peeks at the mess of a man in front of him through his fingers. "alright, you're cut. all you're handling is the damn ring, do not fuck it up. i'm going to call shoko which i should've done from the fucking start."
"hey! i'm her best friend i'm perfect for the role—,"
"clearly not," sukuna says dryly. "get out, go to your lab, i don't care. do not breathe a word to her, hole yourself up and say you've made a new discovery i do not give a shit. but do not speak to her until i pull this off."
satoru groans.
"out!"
he listens, grumbling the entire way.
sukuna waits until he's gone, and pulls his phone out and calls shoko. she's busy often due to now being in medical school to get her doctorate, but sukuna's sure she'll make time for this. "hey," he begins when she picks up. "i need your help with something since gojo is useless."
shoko is quiet for a moment, he can hear her exhale smoke. "alright, lay it on me." and so, sukuna begins to tell her everything he's got planned so far and shoko hums at the right intervals, and they begin to come up with the rest of the plan, and he feels himself relax ever so slightly.
there is no way he wants to risk fucking this up. it has to be perfect for you.
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you find yourself at a salon with yuki and utahime on either side of you, somehow they'd convinced you to get mani-pedis with them. something about you needing to pamper yourself more and not lock yourself in your apartment getting high off paint fumes. you'd smacked yuki on the shoulder for that one, but agreed nonetheless. it's nice to spend time with them, utahime had taken a position at a local elementary school teaching kindergarteners, and yuki was snatched up by a decently known fashion label so she was spending a lot of time coming up with new designs.
"i swear," yuki says. "it's like pulling teeth to get you to take care of yourself."
you glare, "that is not true."
"it's a little bit true," utahime agrees.
you scoff, "you guys are always ganging up on me."
"it's because we love you," yuki grins.
"mhm," you roll your eyes fondly. "you said you wanted to take us to be your test models after this right?" you grew used to yuki using you as her barbie doll throughout college, and you weren't surprised that despite her having an official job now, she still prefers to use you guys.
"yep! i made this pretty lace dress, it's going to look so good on you."
you laugh, "okay, fine. only because it is kind of fun when you style me."
utahime sips her champagne on your other side, "are we getting our hair and makeup done too, mistress?" she asks pointedly at yuki.
"yes! i begged my coworker kiara to come in today, she does hair and makeup so it'll be perfect!"
you find yourself snorting, of course yuki would bribe someone with professional skills to help her with an unofficial test shoot. the woman was definitely resourceful and charming, she could probably get just about anyone to do anything she wished with a few well placed words and that vibrant smile of hers.
it isn't too long before your pedicures are finished, having gotten your manicures done first. so, yuki herds you and utahime out the door and into her car, so that she can drive you across the city to her work building. you let yourself relax and sing along to the music your blonde friend plays loudly over the car radio, and you soak up the sunbeam hitting you. even after all these years, being with the girls never gets old.
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sukuna is pacing back and forth in the middle of the studio. he's mentally ticking everything off in his head, making sure that he's done everything that he's needed to. last week he'd driven to your parents, and asked for their permission in person, as a formality more than anything else. your relationship with them had improved the last two years, there was still a long way to go, but it was leagues better than it had been.
after that, he went to suguru's apartment, he still had the same one the two of you had shared for years. now that was the most nerve wracking thing he'd done so far. he didn't care what gojo thought, he knew shoko would be supportive, your parents were whatever— but your twin brother? that meant something. a lot of something, especially considering his own relationship with suguru.
though he really didn't have a reason to be as freaked out as he was because suguru had rolled his eyes and said he'd been waiting for him to finally grow a pair. sukuna had relaxed after that and finally let him in on the whole plan. which leads to now, with your three closest people in the world, watching as he nearly wears a track into the wood beneath his feet.
"she's going to say yes, stop pacing." suguru says, as he adjusts a few paintings along the walls.
"okay but she might—," satoru gets cut off by shoko socking him in the stomach. "you guys are awful to me!"
"oh shut up," she says hardly sparing him a glance before she turns to sukuna. "she has been planning the wedding herself for two years. relax."
sukuna sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "what if she suddenly realizes she doesn't want any of this?"
gojo, as unserious as he is, comes over to sukuna and clasps a hand on his shoulder. "she's fallen in love with you repeatedly, no matter the circumstances. that isn't going to just suddenly change because you finally want to take the next step, sukuna."
they stare at each other for a moment, something passing between them.
sukuna closes his eyes and breathes in, "yeah. you're right."
currently, you're at yuki's work getting your hair and makeup done, and dressed up in a dress yuki made specifically for the occasion. afterwards, yuki is going to claim you're going out for a nice dinner, and halfway there she'll get an 'urgent call' from choso asking her to stop at the gym.
it's not too out of the ordinary for choso to be at the gym now, most of the brothers frequent it. choso has begun going more ever since his shop began to grow enough that he could let his coworkers sustain it while he was away. so him needing yuki to bring him something isn't too weird, considering they've been together for nearly a year now anyways.
sukuna slowly opens his eyes, "alright. let's make sure everything is ready." he glances over at suguru and shoko, "cameras ready?" they both nod and give thumbs up, they were tasked with recording and taking photos. he knew you wouldn't want anyone intruding on the moment, so the best he could do was them, at least they're decent at it.
the next hour is going to pass by very slowly.
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just as planned, choso calls, and yuki apologizes to you and utahime about the detour. you wave her off because choso is practically your brother and you say you need to see toji anyways. it doesn't take long for you guys to arrive at the gym, yuki had stopped to grab choso spare gym clothes, and you head into the gym. you watch as yuki heads towards the locker rooms, you glance at utahime, "i'm going to see if toji is in his office, you good here?"
utahime waves you off and pulls her phone out, slipping behind the front desk and flopping down. she'd been here a few too many late nights when you would convince the girls to have a gym night with you.
you find toji in his office as expected, "hey so i wanted to talk about next week's—,"
toji pushes up from his desk, "alright i'm gonna need you to trust me."
your eyes narrow at him apologetically cutting you off, "this sounds like the start of something i definitely shouldn't trust."
the edges of his lips quirk up, "nah, would never put you in a weird position, princess." he reaches down on his desk and pulls up a long strip of black silk, "that being said i do gotta blindfold you."
you stare at him mouth slightly agape, "i'm sorry what?"
"just trust me."
it's toji, he's basically become the older brother you never had. someone you can tell anything to without any sort of judgment. you know he'd never hurt you so, "fine. whatever, don't mess up the makeup, yuki will kill me she said she wanted instagram photos when we go to dinner."
he snorts, and comes up behind you, and gently covers your eyes with the strip, and ties it just tight enough it won't slip down. then his hands find your shoulders and he begins to steer you out of his office, "it's a bit of a walk so listen to me carefully so you don't eat shit."
you bite back the urge to say something snappy and instead allow him to guide you through the gym. after four years you know the place like the back of your hand, so you can tell he's leading you to the side exit that opens up towards the back of the parking lot. "you're not taking me to kill me right?"
"please, if i wanted to do that i've got much better spots than this."
you're not sure if that's as reassuring as he thinks it is.
your heels click against the pavement as you begin to walk across the parking lot, "alright there's gonna be a bump up ahead, i'll tell you when." you've not gone too far, just somewhere across the way, you feel your heels step onto smoother sidewalk a few moments later. then toji begins to slow his pace, "okay. stand still." he reaches forward over your shoulder and you hear the sound of a door opening, then he says, "alright, step."
you listen, and take a step, up onto what you assume is a small concrete step. "okay, now step again." you take a step over what you assume is a doorway. toji doesn't speak anymore as he leads you across a wooden floor. you're extremely confused by now, and he finally comes to a stop.
"toji?"
his hands leave your shoulders, "keep it on." he says, and then you can hear as his footsteps begin to retreat. you spin around, incredulous at the fact that he is leaving you in some random building with a blindfold on.
"toji?!"
the sound of the door closing echoes across the room and you go still.
then, you hear the sound of familiar footfalls, and your favorite scent wafts over you. the heat of him at your back automatically puts you at ease, "hey, sweetheart." sukuna's voice is low as he softly begins to tug at the knot at the back of your head, letting the blindfold flutter to the ground. you blink, eyes readjusting to the light, it's all natural, thanks to several overhead skylights and the large windows along one wall.
you turn in a circle, taking in the room, and you blink, realizing.
your artwork is displayed across one wall, and there's easels neatly stacked along another. unopened supplies laid across a nearby countertop. your heart leaps into your throat and you feel yourself begin to tremble, "sukuna…" your voice is soft, "what is this?"
he tilts his head, "i told you two years ago that i would buy a studio." he gestures to the space around them, "so, here it is."
you feel the tears beginning to accumulate along your eyelashes. "you—," your hand comes up to cover your mouth as a choked up sob breaks loose. "sukuna oh my god—,"
sukuna's lips tilt a bit, a small smile as he watches you. "do you like it?"
"like it?" you ask in disbelief. "it's—," you look around again. "it's perfect." you step forward, looping your arms around his neck. "how did you do this without me knowing?"
he shrugs, "had a bit of help."
a light bulb goes off in your mind, "satoru."
sukuna shakes his head a bark of laughter tumbling out, "god no. well, he did help set it up tonight. but he helped me with something else, and then i promptly banned him."
"something else?" you ask, your eyebrows furrowing as you tilt your head up to look at him better.
he gently reaches up and pries your hands away from his neck, and takes a step backwards. your eyes track his movements as he reaches into the pocket of his jeans, and pulls out a small velvet box. your breath hitches, as you watch him sink down onto one knee in front of you.
you can't speak as your throat begins to constrict at the sight of the man you love gently opening the little box, showing you the most beautiful ring you'd ever seen in your life. "sukuna," you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse.
"i wrote a speech," he says. "spent a long time on it but—," he shrugs one shoulder. "i don't remember it now. all i can think of when i look at you, is that i can't imagine continuing my life any further without making you my wife."
he looks up at you and his eyes are shining, "i felt so stupid for telling you that day that it was fate bringing us together, but yeah. i was right," he doesn't move. "i would go through every bit of hell again if it meant i ended up right here."
"i—,"
"i'm not finished," he tells you squinting his eyes. "you're it for me and i think i've known that since the day i spilled my bright green slushie on your vintage t-shirt."
you laugh, it's a wet sound filled with mirth. "so you admit it was your fault."
he rolls his eyes, "i admit that i'd ruin a thousand of your shirts if it means you'll marry me."
"okay," you breathe, an uncontrollable grin spreading across your face. "i'll marry you."
sukuna exhales, and rises to his feet. "you sure about that?"
"yes," you say looking down at the ring.
he pauses, "positive?"
you glance back up and scowl, "yes i'm sure. do i need to put it in writing?"
sukuna snorts, "just checking." then he gently takes your hand, and pulls the ring out, and slides it onto your finger. "good." he tilts your hand in his grip, sliding the box back into his pocket. "it looks perfect."
you hum in agreement, "it does."
then, applause breaks out and you snap your head up to see suguru setting down a video camera and shoko letting her own camera fall back against her chest, hanging from her neck with a thick strap. it's satoru though who's clapping and whistling, a grin even brighter than your own on his face. "woo! i knew she'd say yes! what'd i tell you guys?"
sukuna stares at him, "that is not what you said."
"it's absolutely what i said—,"
you realize your boyfriend— fiancé— is two seconds from murdering your best friend. "'kuna, calm down satoru's an idiot."
sukuna looks back at you and softens just a bit. "yeah he is."
you laugh, and lean into sukuna who wraps an arm around your waist. "sooo," you say. "are we going to celebrate or?"
the group trickles out, sukuna locking the doors to the studio behind you. and you gather your other friends from across the way, and head out for the fancy dinner yuki had originally promised. though, instead of catching up with friends, it's a celebration of your engagement. you feel warmth spread through your chest, and you realize, you are exactly where you are supposed to be.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: wow, thank you to everyone who has come a long this journey with me. i cannot believe this is finally over!! i'll be honest this story became a thing of it's own and took a direction i did not expect when i began writing it.
i am so sorry to the satoru girlies but i don't see myself writing an ending for him. i truly believe that this was the ending meant for him and that it wrapped his character up in a meaningful way. maybe one day.... but not for now. that being said if anyone is interested i did draft how his ending would go so i can always post that.
agh!!! gosh sorry im still in disbelief that this is over. maybe i'll give you guys a small side story later on about their wedding because i intended to put it in the epilogue but i felt this was the right place to end it instead.
please please let me know your thoughts below, im so grateful for every single one of you who has stuck this out. you mean the world to me and i love to hear what you think!! now that this is finished i will be moving over to ao3 full time for my writing. ill also be writing for more/other fandoms there. the same user as my blog! but ill still be around here for interacting.
it's your birthday, course you get to do whatever you want to your friend with benefit, duh!
mattheo riddle x fem!reader
mdni nsfw 18+ all characters aged up! bondage, sloppy makeouts, m!ejaculations, dirty talk, swearing, p n v, it’s subby matty in pretty pink handcuffs 🫦 3.4k
The forbidden nickname slips from your tongue before you can bite it, and you're quickly met with one of Mattheo's predictable glares. To add to your death wish, an escapable fall of giggles leaves you, cascading out after one another, struggling to find the seriousness in his dissatisfied glower.
Having spent honestly a concerning amount of time dealing with the boy you're swiftly approaching, you’ve begun to pick up on his facial tells. With ease, you can spot the humor lurking behind the depths of darkness his brown eyes express, to know he's not mad.
Mattheo's casual stride meets you halfway, and he exhales a bemused huff. His tone is light, holding a little warning, arching a brow as if to say seriously? "Thought, I told you not to call me that in public."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot you got all embarrassed." You grin with playful intent, reaching up to pinch his cheek and failing, due to the absence of fat to grab on his chiseled face. He jerks his head regardless, grabbing onto your wrist with a gentleness one would use when dealing with a naughty child. The lack of insincerity doesn’t go unmissed by him finding your sarcasm cute, and he drops his arm, sliding it comfortably around your waist, manoeuvring you against the wall.
"Mmh, I can just smell the sincerity reeling off of you." He comments incredulously, his hand waving in a whiffing motion, a smile tugging making his dark and grim face light with warmth that has you mirroring him, and he chuckles. "What are you after?"
Beaming wider with utter charm, "What, can't I just want to say hi to my favourite guy?"
It means nothing really, but Mattheo's heart swells with pride at the title. He remains composed, because this is normal. Flirty, playful little banter you throw at one another out in the open before you slip away together, intensifying the moment into blurs of heated desire and sex.
It's the nature of your relationship, not entirely fitting under the basis of friends with benefits but holding more compassion and amiability towards each other than generic fuck buddies.
You're definitely Mattheo's favourite girl. He won't admit that though.
He hasn't come to the full conclusion on whether it's because you're so chill and aloof, down for whatever, or the lighthearted and frisky essence of your personality that makes everything more enjoyable.
His eyes lower, shifting to one of disbelief, scoffing out a response. "No, you're a menace. A sweet pain in my ass." His lips pull between his teeth as he holds back more of his amusement.
"Actually I haven't done that yet," you shoot back, eyes gleaming with mischief as you try not to laugh. "But I could totally invest in a strap, if that's your thing suddenly."
His expression drops, leaning closer to whisper warningly, "Hilarious. But the only pain in the ass I’m interested in, is when my cock is splitting yours in half.”
There's a hitch in your breath, as you hum in agreement, "So vulgar Mattheo." You tug his tie closer to close the proxmity.
He grins, "Mm you like it." His hands lower, sliding under your skirt, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.
He notices the shift in your breathing, and feels a sense of pride for seeing you get a little flustered. It wasn't often someone of your bold and brashness had their feathers ruffled outside the bedroom, making those special shared moments an honour in Mattheo's eyes. “So you got a proposition or just here to bug me like you usually do?”
You roll your eyes with extra dramatics at the tight schedule, "Matter of fact I do."
Mattheo eyes you, shifting his hands to glide along your waist curiously. "Alright, i'm all ears sweetheart."
"Actually, I want it to be a surprise." You grin fluttering your lashes in hopes of winning him over with an added flare. "A birthday surprise."
He rolls his tongue over his lip, "Birthday?"
You nod with a grin, far too cheeky to be innocent. "Sooo, will you let me get my brithday wish…matty." Your plead dripping from your lips, captivating him like a siren of the sea.
It grabs him by the balls, and he hates to admit how much he loves the submission. His lips lean closer to yours, his breathing suddenly ravenous with the need to have you. "When's your birthday?"
You grin tilting closer with invitation, "Tomorrow."
He matches your energy, eyes flickering between the spark in your eye and the swollen plump of your lips, "Alright i'm in."
Mattheo never knew what to expect when it came to you. Your unpredictability was a breath of fresh air among the sea of sheep. The twists and turns of your personality had him hooked from the first kiss when his head slammed into the wall so hard he bruised, to the shapeshifting ability your eyes changed with a blink. Mesmerizing him with a warmth that burned the longer he gazed like staring at the beauty of the sun.
And then there was your voice that wrapped around him like velvet, drowning him pleasurably under the weight of your sensual pleas, only to win back the moment with an arrogant diss leaving him hot and breathless.
But left in the dark, Mattheo has no clue what sinful direction you have chosen and just how badly he had signed over his rights when he arrived at your dorm that night.
“This is so not what I had in mind," he mumbles narrowing his eyes, spotting the fuzzy pink handcuffs laid on your bed, wrapped in a perfectly in a ribbon.
"No?" You tease.
He scoffs out a laugh, the sass falling from his lips with an extra ease of agitation. "Surprisingly, no."
You snort, flashing him a wide grin highly amused, "That was funny."
He rolls his eyes, his lips twitching struggling to contain his smile at your adorableness. "Glad someone is having fun."
"Relax," Your arms wrap around his waist, running your fingers up his back in a flirty caress. "I'll go easy on you."
He eyes the way your lips can't contain the overexcited smile, knowing you're completely full of shit, "Sure you will, brat."
With a quick shove you push him playfully onto the bed, crawling in between his spread legs. "You know you're supposed to be nice to me today." You press a kiss along the base of his neck, humming in satisfaction when his eyes close tilting his head back, elicting a soft sigh. "Are you going to be nice?"
He grins, beaming at the tease, his voice rolling out in a lower octave. "You're about to torture me, I think i'm being plenty nice."
You nip at his neck in retaliation and he grunts, his arms close around you head crashing your lips down for a kiss. All protests are swallowed by his lips with a deep moan, the two of your lips engulfing one another like you're trying to merge together. Your tongues battle it out for dominance, which you'd usually submit too allowing him to take the lead.
But it's your birthday and you're in charge tonight.
Your lips meet his with a rougher edge, unpeeling his arms, you pin his forearms to the bed dominantly, turning the kiss messy with your eager tongue.
"Mm…so bossy." He purrs against teeth and lips, jerking his hips a little at the growing uncomfortability.
His legs widen creating further space for the warmth of your body, sliding his knee subtly between your thighs. Sure, he's happy to play along with your vision, but he's not going to roll over like a dog and submit without a little fun.
You moan, grinding deeper with more enthusiasm quickly getting lost by the heat forming below. It's not fair how wet you already are just from a few kisses and the playful banter. One look at Mattheo tells you he's smugly aware of this fact like it comes with your instruction's manual.
You eye him warningly as he lays looking too gorgeous for his own good under you, with the full audacity to smirk back with feigned innocence.
He needs to be cuffed immediately.
In a hurry you push his shirt eagerly discarding it, closing the distance again your hands tug in his hair with animalistic impulse. Biting at his lip with triumph when he groans from your movements. "i think you're breaking rules already."
"Not doing nothing you dont like." Mattheo quips before smashing his lips back on yours. The move works as intended, distracting you back into the blur of heighten passion. His hands shove your shirt efficently exposing your tits as he finds relief in grabbing at them.
"Hey—"
He grins with cheek, his lips already wrapping around a bud sucking proficiently, drawing from you a sweet whine. The sound shoots through his bloodstream like a electric current, as your back arches trying to push away from the thrilling sensation. His arms clamp around your waist keeping your still while he continues devouring you like the feast you are.
"ngh—mattheo." You whine spluttering as his teeth graze your skin in a playful nip, before lathering his tongue over your sensitive nipple to soothe it. Pressing sloppy kisses to the thick flesh of your cup, he scatters an array of markings as his own souvenirs.
He can feel the heat burning under your body, the warmth of your breasts soft like silk and presses himself heavenly between them. He moans pressing his fingers further onto the dip of your back enjoying the way you wriggle sensitively in response.
He loves how little it takes to turn you on, knowing you're impatiently sitting there trying not to get carried away humping his knee like a needy slut.
Your hands finally press down hard on his shoulders to break the contact; Mattheo leans back sluggishly with a clouded look in his eye and the prettiest glistening lips. You can't help yourself, cupping his head, you lean into lap at the extra spit dabbed on his lip, Mattheo entirely hypnotized by how your tongue flicks out to lick the edge of his smile.
Inhaling like he's just found himself inside his favourite sweet store he moans with a deep rumble, "You're a fuckin sight you know."
His compliment ignites a heat within you, crawling its way up the surface of your skin, spreading a raging itch through your bloodstream making you want to fluster with the need to hide.
The satisfied look he's shooting is quick to snap you out of it. You clear your throat as if to swallow the oozing submission lingering on your tongue. "Cute." You comment undermining his flattery, clambering off him and refocusing on the goal at hand unzipping his pants.
Mattheo cocks a brow finding amusement in your sudden dryness, his eyes dipping with a pause of confusion that perhaps you're referring to something else...
He's blinks, startled by the promptness you have him stripped bare. A woman on a mission. "Fuck—"
"Up."
Mattheo not one to usually feel insecure when naked. He’s proud of the body he’s sculpted, worked hard over the years for it, each muscle cut to his liking, and yet with the seriousness you're gazing down at him he feels hot, exposed and in foreign territory. He can't help the way his cock twitches at your tone, like it following the command instead of him.
For once he listens without any backtalk, scooting back till he bumps against the headboard, kicking his shoes off along the way. His heart accelerates racing a mile per minute completely compelled by the way your eyes drink him in. Without the need for instructions, he's draping his hands through the bars of the metal taking his position for the night.
You arch a pleased brow at the notion, tutting seductively at how good he's suddenly being. Mattheo swallows, goosebumps tickling inside his skin like a bug under a microscope. Nothing could steal his attention, captivated by the sultry, lustful look you're giving. A predator locked on its next victim caught in the trap. Except he's no victim, he's right where he wants to be.
His chest pounds, breathing unevenly with trepidation, like an bomb counting down the minutes. You smile amused, perching yourself on his burly thighs, finally cuffing his hands to the bar, pretty tits exposed in his face.
Mattheo groans, releasing a sharp hiss the warm air tickling your skin. His voice coming out low and hoarse as he begins, "So..."
You grin trekking soft kisses down his neck, delicate fragile kisses that alert all his senses. Down his jaw you pepper him with a gentleness, before planting a chaste kiss on his pretty parted lips.
His cock twitching needlessly with every delicate press of your lips, it flexes harder upright with anticipation against his rigid abdominals. The kiss turns rougher, your lips meshing together like a fiery dance, tongues tangoing creating a ferocious heat. Your moans harmonizing together like a duet in a song, till you're both pulling back panting for oxygen.
A line of spit strings from your lips and you let it drop down, landing on his straining tense cock. Your eyes dip watching as you smear the liquid around, licking the side of your lip clean alluringly.
He grunts, his head tilting back with relief, "Oh god."
You pump your hand meticulously, keeping your strokes controlled and steady drinking in how his cock seems to relish the familiarity of your hand. The movements are slow, indolent, your eyes sparkling captivated, lost in a daze by the slick arousal of pre-cum already coating him. Mattheo grunts un-appreciatively, exasperated at your leisurely pace, huffing to conceal a needy whine as you play with just his tip.
His brows pull together in need when you drop another glob of spit adding unnecessary lubrication, hips jerking upwards trying to fuck himself. Heat swelts up your neck, suffocating you in pleasure as you watch him lustfully. The way his eyes are watching your every move with eyes nearing an unnatural shade of darkness. Flickering between the tortuous delicate caress of your hand, to the sway of your tits at every jerk, up to your swollen-bitten lips.
Mattheo smirks catching the desire in your eyes, "baby." He laughs smugly taunting you as he tilts his head mockingly, "i know you want to."
You refuse to look down again not wanting to give into his satisfaction and squeeze his cock harder at the attitude.
Clangs of metal rattle under Mattheo's uneasy twitching, he utters another delectable sound, whispering a strangled ‘baby’ battling to endure the tantalizing teasing you’re inflicting upon him.
You don’t appreciate his impatience and tug harder on his tip, earning a husky grunt from him. “Be nice to me, and I’ll be nice to you.” Your tone edges on dominant, dropping lower with a hint of warning.
He feels his cock twitch in the warmth of your hand, the emphasis of your warning spurring him on. "Fuck- you sound so sexy when you talk like that." Biting into his lower lip, desperate to contain any further sounds that could tip him past the point of needy and exposing the pathetic mess he's beginning to feel.
Each stroke of your hand is like a nightmare on loop, the sluggish of your movements, the small, tiny squeezes stimulating his sensitive and reddening tip. "Fuck— gonna." His head jerks back, his breathing coming out heavy, eyes closing in pleasure as he releases a spurt of cum along his torso.
Your lips wrap around your fingers, sucking off the dripping excess that spilled on your hand, relishing in the twitch of his stomach and the spike in his breathing.
A deep groan exhaling him, "I love when you do that, c'mere."
Obliging to his command you lean closer sharing the taste of his cum on his tongue. Your hands sliding over his arms, squeezing, groping his muscles letting your nails dig in to ground yourself, while slowly grinding against his soaked cock. Sensitive whines rush through his eardrums pulsing down to his cock, the damp fabric slipping to the side catching skin to skin contact.
"Merlin— fuck you're so wet." He groans nippin at your ear as you lean against him, head dropping. "You want me to make you feel good? You wanna cum yeah?"
He's working every angle of his dirty talk to try and convince you to crack, to end his suffering because he's not sure how much longer he can wait without having your pussy. He swears he's losing his mind listening to every little mewl that exhales from you. Knowing at this point, you need this as badly as he does.
"Uh huh," you whine pathetically, pumping his cock you align yourself above him, thong pulled to the side. Slowly, you drag the head through your slick folds, moaning softly as the tip presses against your pulsating clit. "Need your cock so bad."
Fuck. Mattheo sits watching eyes glistening with desire, his chest heaving, getting just a brief taste of what he's craving as his cock slips inside every few rubs before popping back out. He inhales sharply, feeling like his sanity is about to snap at any second, his knuckles clamped turning white. It's a miracle his hips haven't just lifted and started thrusting up into you yet. "Baby— fuckin use me, it's all yours."
You don't need to be told again before you sink down, feeling the stretch of him full you. A deep moan exhales, symphonising between the both of you at the connecting sensation. Metal rattles as he flexes his hands, trying to grasp for anything drowning in the pain of not being able to touch you.
The air fills with the smell of sex, as your hips find their rhythm riding him at an impatient pace it's making Mattheo lose his breath. Uncontrollably, his hips buck, thrusting up deeper inside you, and your head falls forwards muttering approval to him.
"That's it…fuck look at you." Mattheo grunts, a thin layer of sweat clinging to his skin, his muscles contradicting over and over as he grips the metal with a brutal force. Hands splayed on his chest, they mould into him, hips rolling harder trying to keep up with his vicious force whining as his cock squishes against your cervix.
"Look at me." He demands, your head lifting in obedience with the little strength you have left, locking contact with him. With the way he's repeatedly hitting your g spot, your whines have become desperate, bordering on crying with heavy tears clouding your eyes. Mattheo soaks it all up, praising you, "taking me so well—fuck! that's it, squeeze my cock baby."
The metal groans under his strength, his eyes watching as your tits bounce, listening to the pitch increase in your cries as he grunts thrusting his cock so far up, you shake in your release.
He groans in response, panting raggedly in his own need to let go. and with how your pussy is pulsing around him, the warmth of your juices soaking his cock, he ruts, spilling his release deep within you moments later.
Mattheo huffs a defeated laugh; his sweat kissed chest heaving as he catches his breath. He dips his head to connect his lips with you once more mumbling with a satisfied smirk, “Happy fucking birthday."
Tysm to @viperify for supporting me like crazy + reading it over 💓 & @simp-for-love for reading it last year lmfao ily u both!!!! 🏷️@obsessedwithceleste @rositxespinosa @dearmisshoney
synopsis - what was supposed to be a shitty night sitting on the curb of a gas station convenience store, takes a turn when you meet someone you shouldn't be meeting. ryomen sukuna, your best friend's ex, offers you a ride to the biggest party of the year. who are you to say no?
tags/warnings - MDNI 18+, heavily inspired by nate n cassie s2 ep1 of euphoria, piv, short smut, afab!reader, plot with porn, sexual tension, lowkey cheating??, reader is highkey a bad bsf, dirty talk, kuna manhandles reader harshly, bad questionable moral choices from both sukuna and reader, toxic rls, author is from the uk, fanart by @/ryoza_za
wc - 3.4k
♫ now playing... Dead of Night - Orville Peck
The overhead lights were dizzying as your heels carried you through the convenience store. Nothing about this environment soothed the raging headache within you; your head seemingly having a heartbeat of its own.
The skimpy little blue bandage dress you wore was suffocating, and you wanted the gems that accompanied your makeup off in an instant. There were stacks of off-brand chips that filled the shelves, ones you knew would make you feel worse. You were only there for a sweet treat anyway.
Just a few blocks away from here was the most important party of the term: the New Year's party.
What made it so special was that Satoru Gojo, the ultimate asshole party thrower (the guy was the definition of any stereotypical jock you could imagine in a high school), spent his allowance on the largest fireworks in the neighbourhood.
On the way there, you and your sister had gotten into a fight. Something about how you shouldn't be pouring Absolut into your mouth like it's water on the way there, which didn't make any sense considering you weren't the one driving. Plus, who doesn't pre-game?
Screams were exchanged, and the alcohol in your system only made you say things you didn't really mean.
You were a lightweight. Which was also why in your group of friends, you were never the designated driver.
As you made your way through the candy aisle, you grabbed a purple lollipop which could be dipped in Pop Rocks. Stumbling on your heels, you quickly paid for it, pulling a few bills out from your push-up bra.
You made your way out, sitting on top of a parking stop. You felt pathetic. All of your friends were probably at the party at this moment, having the time of their lives, whilst you sat here on a dirty surface, eating a treat you haven't tasted since you were nine.
A black Jeep Gladiator pulled up to the front, its headlights almost blinding you.
You brought up a hand to cover the lights, yellow tint slipping through the spaces of your fingers. It was familiar, but not enough for you to be curious as to who was going into the store. You focused on the candy in your hand, your phone buzzing with calls from your sister.
Normally, you'd answer. You always pick up your phone when she rings, especially since you were older. But you were too upset, too drunk, and too embarrassed. So you didn't pick up, letting the phone vibrate against your thigh.
You shut your eyes, swirling the lollipop in your mouth and letting the sound of the pop rocks fill your ears and fizz on your tongue. It was warm behind your eyelids, and part of you was worried you'd end up falling asleep here.
The door buzzed, and you turned your head around to see none other than Ryomen Sukuna, the 6'4-tatted-up-God-of-Jujustsu-High standing before you, half his face illuminated by the lights that escaped through the windows of the store.
He was every girl's bedroom fantasy, and most importantly, your best friend's ex.
Maya and Sukuna were never a good match. But it was safe to say that they were obsessed with each other. Their relationship was infamous for being abusive, manipulative, and toxic.
They had all the issues of a house of cards. Perfect on the outside, but could be knocked over with the lightest little blow.
But he was gorgeous. He had tattoos that spread all the way to his face, defining his chiselled jaw even more. He had muscles that looked like they were carved by Michelangelo himself, and a smile that knew of its impact.
Now, here he was, standing in front of you with a pack of beer bottles in one hand.
A lopsided smirk crept its way along his face as he brought one of the beer bottles to his mouth, biting the cap off and spitting it out. "Need something to wash that down?"
"Thanks." You said softly, taking the lollipop out of your mouth and resting it between your index and middle fingers. Taking the bottle from his hand, your fingers brushed against his, which your brain tried to erase quickly. You had already finished the Pop Rocks, so why did it feel like it made its way to your brain?
"Shouldn't you be at Satoru's tonight?" He looked down at you, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.
"I was on the way there with my sister." You took a sip. "But we got into this huge fight, so like- I guess I'm here now."
"No boyfriend to take you there?"
You looked up at him, finally meeting his eyes and shaking your head. "Toji and I… we didn't really work out. We were just in different places."
"Hm." His lips pressed into a line, face unreadable. He gently took the bottle from your hands, taking a sip before giving it back. He smacked his lips, looking out onto the road before his eyes travelled to yours again.
Only, maybe it wasn't your eyes but your purple-coated tongue.
"So you're a relationship kind of girl, huh?" He teased, the corners of his lips once again returning to a smirk.
"'M trying not to be."
Your words sank in for a few seconds before you realised what you were unintentionally implying.
"N-not in that way," You continued, "Just that- I'm trying to uhm… focus on myself more. Instead of getting into a relationship every second."
"Why not?" He pressed, and the back of your neck suddenly prickled and felt hot.
You brought up a hand to weave your hands through your hair and toss it over your shoulder, exposing one side of your collarbone to the cold air.
"I just keep making mistakes and not learning from them."
You handed the beer back to him, throwing the now finished lollie stick onto the ground and kicking it into a storm drain.
He chuckles at your answer, shaking his head and taking a swift swig of the bottle, finishing it. "Do you need a ride to this party, then, Ms. commitment?"
You stare at your heels for a minute, rubbing your bare arms. This seems like a bad idea.
This is a bad idea.
What are you thinking? He's a manipulative piece of shit that ruined your best friend's life. Maybe he could ruin yours?
—
You don't know why you said yes, or how you even got into this situation in the first place. But here you are, in his car, both of you laughing like schoolgirls as he nurses another beer.
He gives it to you, under the guise of being "a responsible dude who can't get Maya's best friend into trouble."
It was meant to come across as a joke, but the reminder of Maya and the sound of her name on his tongue is enough to make the beer taste bitter. You giggle awkwardly, which he notices.
Of course, he notices. So as a distraction, he puts the windows down and turns the music up. You smile, putting your hand out the window and feeling the breeze push past your fingers. It's comforting. Way more comforting than it should be.
The car is silent, save for the music that blasts through the speakers and the sound that the wind makes blowing through your ears. He looks over at you and just smiles, watching you carefully nurse your drink.
You don't want to get too drunk.
You should still be cautious, being in a car with Sukuna of all people. But you're also pretty sure you're way past the point of sober.
Otherwise, you wouldn't be in this car at all. Instead, you'd be dancing with your friends, counting down the seconds till the new year and finding someone to share a New Year's kiss with.
Okay, maybe you were wrong about this whole thing being "comforting." You know you shouldn't be here. You knew this was a bad idea. And you knew that Maya scared the living crap out of you.
She was a beautiful girl, the reincarnation of a raven. While you were her complete opposite. You were kinder, gave people the benefit of the doubt more, and in turn, were more vulnerable. Naïve. Maya, however, wasn't afraid to speak her mind. Especially when it came to people whom she loved and trusted. Which is why you could never break her trust.
Maybe that's why she and Sukuna didn't work out. She wouldn't take his shit.
Sukuna noticed the nervousness and hesitation that lay behind your eyes, begging to be perceived with nonchalance. But he knew. He always knew how to get under people's skin. Especially to get what he wanted, he would stop at nothing.
So when he saw you sitting on the curb of that convenience store, sucking on a lollipop and looking ravishing, he knew what he wanted.
What he needed.
And when you opened that pretty little mouth of yours, tongue stained with purple? You were already under his spell the moment you locked eyes.
60, 79, 90, 103 mph.
He wasn't stopping, and each time the number increased on that monitor, your senses heightened in sync. And what made it worse was that he wasn't even looking at the road.
He was looking at you.
From your eyes, to your lips, to your neck, then your tits… You were aware.
He hit a speed bump, and you squealed, the forgotten bottle of beer spilling onto your lap as he laughed like it was his plan all along.
"Oh my days- what the hell, Kuna, you arse!" You hit his shoulder with the palm of your hand, unbuckling your seatbelt and placing the beer bottle into the cup holder. You wait for him to apologise, and when he doesn't, you look at his face only to see the smug smile that makes you want to straddle strangle him.
You can't help but laugh with him, before it dies down after a few seconds. Now he's just shamelessly staring into your mouth.
"If you're speeding like this, then you should be looking at the road. My dress is ruined." You interrupt the silence.
He ignores you. "Your tongue is purple. Y'know that?"
"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." You let out a huff of amusement to mask the tremble in your voice. He doesn't buy it.
Silence. He turns up the AC to help you dry your dress.
Then, you do something really risky.
Something sober you never would do.
Something Maya could kill you over.
You reach under your dress, knowing his eyes are fixated on you. You pull down your lacy white panties—which can't even be classified as such if they're completely see-through—keeping your eyes on his to try and gauge his reaction.
He says nothing. His jaw goes slack, and he's not even trying to pretend he's looking at your face right now.
You watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as you throw the undergarment in the back seat.
Now his eyes are glued to the road.
—
"Hey, have you seen my sister?"
The party was loud and crowded. A bunch of sweaty people smelling of alcohol and drugs packed into one house. Everyone was here; even seniors who had graduated 3 years ago.
People were stripping outside and jumping into the pool, each room filled with people either passing blunts or girls around, boys with egos way too big for their heads playing beer pong, and the sound of some God-awful karaoke mixed with DJ-ing filled every single crevice of the area.
It was impossible to escape.
Maya pushed past a couple making out to get to where your sister was standing. The two shot a glare towards her, but once they could see that the one responsible for the cock-block was none other than Maya Atsumu, their complaints died down.
"I thought both of you got here together?" Maya asked, turning to your sister.
Your sister was only a year younger than you and your friends, so in a way, they were friends as well.
Every time they came over to your place, she was always there. At first, this bothered you. Couldn't she have gotten friends of your own? But the idea was quick to warm up to you as you both grew older, and your bond grew stronger.
Your friends loved her as well, so that was good.
"She was, but for some reason, I can't find her. We got into a fight before she stormed off." Your sister raked a hand through her hair, looking around. "I assumed you guys would be together."
Her brows furrowed. "Have you tried calling?"
"I did, but it keeps going straight to voicemail." She bit the inside of her cheek.
"That's weird. She always picks up." Maya groaned, her bladder being on the brink of explosion. Her eyes that were once fixated on your sisters now roamed around the room, scanning for any toilets. "Fuck, I need to use the lav. I'll ring you if I see her, 'kay?"
She sighed before nodding and seeing Maya off.
—
Sukuna's cock pumps in and out of you, each thrust guaranteeing pleasure.
He knows he's good at this, but the feeling of a new pussy clamping around his shaft, taking him all the way in, is enough to turn him into a virgin again.
You're sucking him in like there's no tomorrow, dress bunched up at your waist, your bra long forgotten.
Your back is against the door of this random bathroom he pulled you into, legs wrapped around his hips.
You're sure that your thighs will have bruises you'll regret tomorrow morning, but you couldn't bring yourself to care about the future when his whole cock has you splitting in half and panting like a bitch in heat.
"Fuuuuuuuckkk… you feel so good…" Sukuna grits through his teeth, red eyes piercing through yours. He's eye fucking you.
"You're fucking perfect… God, I'm ruining you."
You can't say anything. You can't even whisper in his ear and praise him like the God he so desperately tries to be, because each time the sound of skin slapping hits your ears, you see streaks of white and your brain goes dead.
Wanton moans spill out of your mouth, your folds clenching tighter around him.
"Shit, you're so tight. Loosen up for me, baby. Let me in."
His words barely register in your head, but once they do, you fall completely apart, walls fluttering around him, allowing you to take in every inch of him, balls-deep.
At the height of your sensations, just as he's about to cum, there's pounding at the door, the knob rattling.
"Fuck off! I'm using this shit!" Sukuna yells, thrusting into you harder.
"Ryomen? Is that you?" Maya chuckles from the other side of the door. "What the fuck? Open this door, I need to piss."
Your eyes grow wide, and immediately, you are snapped out of your haze, the pleasure being completely wiped from your mind.
That was Maya's voice.
You almost scream, but he clamps his large palm over your mouth.
No, no, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening. Maya can't find out. Who knows what she'll do? You're a dead woman by tomorrow.
The banging continues as you stand up properly and desperately try to pull your tangled dress back on. Gods, why did you have to wear such a tight ass dress?
"Sukuna! Open this bloody door right now. What the hell are you even doing in there?" Maya presses.
"Fuck off, Maya. I'm busy. Go piss outside or something!" Sukuna yells, pulling his jeans on hastily.
Tears prick at your eyes as you hyperventilate. You can't breathe. The walls are gonna close in on you, and Maya is going to open the door at any second. Hands shaking, you silently sob as you try to pull your bra and dress back on.
"Are you fucking crying?" Sukuna whispers, grabbing your face. His fingers dig into your cheeks, causing your lips to jut out. Reading you face, eyes travelling in circles, he eventually lets go with sigh.
He paces around the small area, trying to see if the windows open. They won't.
"Are you shitting at a party?" Maya laughs degradingly. "You've got to be kidding me, Ryomen. Open this door right now. I can literally smell you from outside."
Sukuna ignores her, running his hands through his hair, a string of curses escaping his mouth. "Stop crying- why are you even crying???"
"Sh-she's my best friend-" You sob, scrambling to put your dress back on. "I-its all tangled…"
He sighs, helping you tug your dress onto your body. The material scratches at your skin, irritating it, but you can't bring yourself to care when you look at Sukuna's face and see his pupils blown wide and his breathing ragged.
You aren't sure if it's from the sex earlier or because he's fucking terrified of Maya as well.
"Okay, look. There's nowhere else you can go. So you have no choice but to get in here."
He tugs the shower curtain open, gesturing to the bathtub.
"What?" You whisper-yell.
It feels like you're about to pass out from anxiety. Nope- you're going to puke. You're definitely going to puke. Every bit of alcohol you consumed this night feels like it's making its way up your throat, whilst your tears betray you, making you choke.
"Jesus Christ, I'll take care of this, all right? I'll come get you- or you'll escape or some shit. But we'll be fine. Just get in the fucking tub." He grips your wrist harshly, shoving you in.
You stumble a bit, putting a hand over your mouth, and lying down. He shuts the curtains and exits the bathroom.
Sliding down the bathroom wall, each memory of every bad decision you had made this night replays in your head like a broken record. The cold surface taunts you as you try to seek comfort.
The tub is cold, and your head is pounding nearly as much as the door was when Maya was banging on it. You can hear the muffled sounds of their arguing from outside, but in this very moment, you're too focused on what excuse you'll come up with if she finds you in here.
This was the worst idea you've had in your entire life. Even drunk-you is able to establish that.
It would be nice to say that this whole incident made you forget about how good it felt. How good the sex felt. How good his body felt pressed against yours, tip hitting every single crevice of your stomach, but you can't say it's erased. Because you want more.
You're addicted to Ryomen Sukuna, and he's addicted to you.
—
After a few minutes, you're able to keep yourself quiet. Maya walks into the bathroom, and you can hear the zipper of her dress going down.
You feel like you're about to puke all over again, but you force yourself to keep it in. You hear the stream of piss she's letting out, and you try your best not to freak out.
"For God's sake." She whispers under her breath.
There's no toilet paper. She looks around the toilet, before spotting one of those fancy washcloths you use to dry your hands neatly placed on one of the racks.
The rack is right next to the tub.
You pray, over and over, that she doesn't see you. That she doesn't pull back the curtains.
Her hand gets closer. You can see the outline of her body reaching for the flannel. Your eyes glue shut, and you're sure that this is how you die.
Finally, by some miracle, she takes it without spotting you. You let out the tiniest breath of relief, but it doesn't end there.
She throws it into the tub, the fabric landing on your face. Shit, you really are gonna puke. Using the tips of your nails, you shove it off your face and gag. Karma's a bitch.
She finally exits the bathroom after washing her hands, and you allow yourself to sit up and make some noise. You sniffle, wiping your tears away as you go to put your shoes and bra back on, stepping out of the tub.
You look at yourself in the mirror. Mascara dripping down your cheeks, glitter smudged everywhere.
Fucking hell.
Did Sukuna get any glitter on him? Never mind. That's one extra problem for that dick head.
As you desperately try to fix your dress, your makeup, and your hair, you know there's only one thing you can't fix.
Words you heard just a few hours ago ring through your ears again and again, haunting you for the rest of the night.
synopsis - what was supposed to be a shitty night sitting on the curb of a gas station convenience store, takes a turn when you meet someone you shouldn't be meeting. ryomen sukuna, your best friend's ex, offers you a ride to the biggest party of the year. who are you to say no?
tags/warnings - MDNI 18+, heavily inspired by nate n cassie s2 ep1 of euphoria, piv, short smut, afab!reader, plot with porn, sexual tension, lowkey cheating??, reader is highkey a bad bsf, dirty talk, kuna manhandles reader harshly, bad questionable moral choices from both sukuna and reader, toxic rls, author is from the uk, fanart by @/ryoza_za
wc - 3.4k
♫ now playing... Dead of Night - Orville Peck
The overhead lights were dizzying as your heels carried you through the convenience store. Nothing about this environment soothed the raging headache within you; your head seemingly having a heartbeat of its own.
The skimpy little blue bandage dress you wore was suffocating, and you wanted the gems that accompanied your makeup off in an instant. There were stacks of off-brand chips that filled the shelves, ones you knew would make you feel worse. You were only there for a sweet treat anyway.
Just a few blocks away from here was the most important party of the term: the New Year's party.
What made it so special was that Satoru Gojo, the ultimate asshole party thrower (the guy was the definition of any stereotypical jock you could imagine in a high school), spent his allowance on the largest fireworks in the neighbourhood.
On the way there, you and your sister had gotten into a fight. Something about how you shouldn't be pouring Absolut into your mouth like it's water on the way there, which didn't make any sense considering you weren't the one driving. Plus, who doesn't pre-game?
Screams were exchanged, and the alcohol in your system only made you say things you didn't really mean.
You were a lightweight. Which was also why in your group of friends, you were never the designated driver.
As you made your way through the candy aisle, you grabbed a purple lollipop which could be dipped in Pop Rocks. Stumbling on your heels, you quickly paid for it, pulling a few bills out from your push-up bra.
You made your way out, sitting on top of a parking stop. You felt pathetic. All of your friends were probably at the party at this moment, having the time of their lives, whilst you sat here on a dirty surface, eating a treat you haven't tasted since you were nine.
A black Jeep Gladiator pulled up to the front, its headlights almost blinding you.
You brought up a hand to cover the lights, yellow tint slipping through the spaces of your fingers. It was familiar, but not enough for you to be curious as to who was going into the store. You focused on the candy in your hand, your phone buzzing with calls from your sister.
Normally, you'd answer. You always pick up your phone when she rings, especially since you were older. But you were too upset, too drunk, and too embarrassed. So you didn't pick up, letting the phone vibrate against your thigh.
You shut your eyes, swirling the lollipop in your mouth and letting the sound of the pop rocks fill your ears and fizz on your tongue. It was warm behind your eyelids, and part of you was worried you'd end up falling asleep here.
The door buzzed, and you turned your head around to see none other than Ryomen Sukuna, the 6'4-tatted-up-God-of-Jujustsu-High standing before you, half his face illuminated by the lights that escaped through the windows of the store.
He was every girl's bedroom fantasy, and most importantly, your best friend's ex.
Maya and Sukuna were never a good match. But it was safe to say that they were obsessed with each other. Their relationship was infamous for being abusive, manipulative, and toxic.
They had all the issues of a house of cards. Perfect on the outside, but could be knocked over with the lightest little blow.
But he was gorgeous. He had tattoos that spread all the way to his face, defining his chiselled jaw even more. He had muscles that looked like they were carved by Michelangelo himself, and a smile that knew of its impact.
Now, here he was, standing in front of you with a pack of beer bottles in one hand.
A lopsided smirk crept its way along his face as he brought one of the beer bottles to his mouth, biting the cap off and spitting it out. "Need something to wash that down?"
"Thanks." You said softly, taking the lollipop out of your mouth and resting it between your index and middle fingers. Taking the bottle from his hand, your fingers brushed against his, which your brain tried to erase quickly. You had already finished the Pop Rocks, so why did it feel like it made its way to your brain?
"Shouldn't you be at Satoru's tonight?" He looked down at you, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.
"I was on the way there with my sister." You took a sip. "But we got into this huge fight, so like- I guess I'm here now."
"No boyfriend to take you there?"
You looked up at him, finally meeting his eyes and shaking your head. "Toji and I… we didn't really work out. We were just in different places."
"Hm." His lips pressed into a line, face unreadable. He gently took the bottle from your hands, taking a sip before giving it back. He smacked his lips, looking out onto the road before his eyes travelled to yours again.
Only, maybe it wasn't your eyes but your purple-coated tongue.
"So you're a relationship kind of girl, huh?" He teased, the corners of his lips once again returning to a smirk.
"'M trying not to be."
Your words sank in for a few seconds before you realised what you were unintentionally implying.
"N-not in that way," You continued, "Just that- I'm trying to uhm… focus on myself more. Instead of getting into a relationship every second."
"Why not?" He pressed, and the back of your neck suddenly prickled and felt hot.
You brought up a hand to weave your hands through your hair and toss it over your shoulder, exposing one side of your collarbone to the cold air.
"I just keep making mistakes and not learning from them."
You handed the beer back to him, throwing the now finished lollie stick onto the ground and kicking it into a storm drain.
He chuckles at your answer, shaking his head and taking a swift swig of the bottle, finishing it. "Do you need a ride to this party, then, Ms. commitment?"
You stare at your heels for a minute, rubbing your bare arms. This seems like a bad idea.
This is a bad idea.
What are you thinking? He's a manipulative piece of shit that ruined your best friend's life. Maybe he could ruin yours?
—
You don't know why you said yes, or how you even got into this situation in the first place. But here you are, in his car, both of you laughing like schoolgirls as he nurses another beer.
He gives it to you, under the guise of being "a responsible dude who can't get Maya's best friend into trouble."
It was meant to come across as a joke, but the reminder of Maya and the sound of her name on his tongue is enough to make the beer taste bitter. You giggle awkwardly, which he notices.
Of course, he notices. So as a distraction, he puts the windows down and turns the music up. You smile, putting your hand out the window and feeling the breeze push past your fingers. It's comforting. Way more comforting than it should be.
The car is silent, save for the music that blasts through the speakers and the sound that the wind makes blowing through your ears. He looks over at you and just smiles, watching you carefully nurse your drink.
You don't want to get too drunk.
You should still be cautious, being in a car with Sukuna of all people. But you're also pretty sure you're way past the point of sober.
Otherwise, you wouldn't be in this car at all. Instead, you'd be dancing with your friends, counting down the seconds till the new year and finding someone to share a New Year's kiss with.
Okay, maybe you were wrong about this whole thing being "comforting." You know you shouldn't be here. You knew this was a bad idea. And you knew that Maya scared the living crap out of you.
She was a beautiful girl, the reincarnation of a raven. While you were her complete opposite. You were kinder, gave people the benefit of the doubt more, and in turn, were more vulnerable. Naïve. Maya, however, wasn't afraid to speak her mind. Especially when it came to people whom she loved and trusted. Which is why you could never break her trust.
Maybe that's why she and Sukuna didn't work out. She wouldn't take his shit.
Sukuna noticed the nervousness and hesitation that lay behind your eyes, begging to be perceived with nonchalance. But he knew. He always knew how to get under people's skin. Especially to get what he wanted, he would stop at nothing.
So when he saw you sitting on the curb of that convenience store, sucking on a lollipop and looking ravishing, he knew what he wanted.
What he needed.
And when you opened that pretty little mouth of yours, tongue stained with purple? You were already under his spell the moment you locked eyes.
60, 79, 90, 103 mph.
He wasn't stopping, and each time the number increased on that monitor, your senses heightened in sync. And what made it worse was that he wasn't even looking at the road.
He was looking at you.
From your eyes, to your lips, to your neck, then your tits… You were aware.
He hit a speed bump, and you squealed, the forgotten bottle of beer spilling onto your lap as he laughed like it was his plan all along.
"Oh my days- what the hell, Kuna, you arse!" You hit his shoulder with the palm of your hand, unbuckling your seatbelt and placing the beer bottle into the cup holder. You wait for him to apologise, and when he doesn't, you look at his face only to see the smug smile that makes you want to straddle strangle him.
You can't help but laugh with him, before it dies down after a few seconds. Now he's just shamelessly staring into your mouth.
"If you're speeding like this, then you should be looking at the road. My dress is ruined." You interrupt the silence.
He ignores you. "Your tongue is purple. Y'know that?"
"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." You let out a huff of amusement to mask the tremble in your voice. He doesn't buy it.
Silence. He turns up the AC to help you dry your dress.
Then, you do something really risky.
Something sober you never would do.
Something Maya could kill you over.
You reach under your dress, knowing his eyes are fixated on you. You pull down your lacy white panties—which can't even be classified as such if they're completely see-through—keeping your eyes on his to try and gauge his reaction.
He says nothing. His jaw goes slack, and he's not even trying to pretend he's looking at your face right now.
You watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as you throw the undergarment in the back seat.
Now his eyes are glued to the road.
—
"Hey, have you seen my sister?"
The party was loud and crowded. A bunch of sweaty people smelling of alcohol and drugs packed into one house. Everyone was here; even seniors who had graduated 3 years ago.
People were stripping outside and jumping into the pool, each room filled with people either passing blunts or girls around, boys with egos way too big for their heads playing beer pong, and the sound of some God-awful karaoke mixed with DJ-ing filled every single crevice of the area.
It was impossible to escape.
Maya pushed past a couple making out to get to where your sister was standing. The two shot a glare towards her, but once they could see that the one responsible for the cock-block was none other than Maya Atsumu, their complaints died down.
"I thought both of you got here together?" Maya asked, turning to your sister.
Your sister was only a year younger than you and your friends, so in a way, they were friends as well.
Every time they came over to your place, she was always there. At first, this bothered you. Couldn't she have gotten friends of your own? But the idea was quick to warm up to you as you both grew older, and your bond grew stronger.
Your friends loved her as well, so that was good.
"She was, but for some reason, I can't find her. We got into a fight before she stormed off." Your sister raked a hand through her hair, looking around. "I assumed you guys would be together."
Her brows furrowed. "Have you tried calling?"
"I did, but it keeps going straight to voicemail." She bit the inside of her cheek.
"That's weird. She always picks up." Maya groaned, her bladder being on the brink of explosion. Her eyes that were once fixated on your sisters now roamed around the room, scanning for any toilets. "Fuck, I need to use the lav. I'll ring you if I see her, 'kay?"
She sighed before nodding and seeing Maya off.
—
Sukuna's cock pumps in and out of you, each thrust guaranteeing pleasure.
He knows he's good at this, but the feeling of a new pussy clamping around his shaft, taking him all the way in, is enough to turn him into a virgin again.
You're sucking him in like there's no tomorrow, dress bunched up at your waist, your bra long forgotten.
Your back is against the door of this random bathroom he pulled you into, legs wrapped around his hips.
You're sure that your thighs will have bruises you'll regret tomorrow morning, but you couldn't bring yourself to care about the future when his whole cock has you splitting in half and panting like a bitch in heat.
"Fuuuuuuuckkk… you feel so good…" Sukuna grits through his teeth, red eyes piercing through yours. He's eye fucking you.
"You're fucking perfect… God, I'm ruining you."
You can't say anything. You can't even whisper in his ear and praise him like the God he so desperately tries to be, because each time the sound of skin slapping hits your ears, you see streaks of white and your brain goes dead.
Wanton moans spill out of your mouth, your folds clenching tighter around him.
"Shit, you're so tight. Loosen up for me, baby. Let me in."
His words barely register in your head, but once they do, you fall completely apart, walls fluttering around him, allowing you to take in every inch of him, balls-deep.
At the height of your sensations, just as he's about to cum, there's pounding at the door, the knob rattling.
"Fuck off! I'm using this shit!" Sukuna yells, thrusting into you harder.
"Ryomen? Is that you?" Maya chuckles from the other side of the door. "What the fuck? Open this door, I need to piss."
Your eyes grow wide, and immediately, you are snapped out of your haze, the pleasure being completely wiped from your mind.
That was Maya's voice.
You almost scream, but he clamps his large palm over your mouth.
No, no, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening. Maya can't find out. Who knows what she'll do? You're a dead woman by tomorrow.
The banging continues as you stand up properly and desperately try to pull your tangled dress back on. Gods, why did you have to wear such a tight ass dress?
"Sukuna! Open this bloody door right now. What the hell are you even doing in there?" Maya presses.
"Fuck off, Maya. I'm busy. Go piss outside or something!" Sukuna yells, pulling his jeans on hastily.
Tears prick at your eyes as you hyperventilate. You can't breathe. The walls are gonna close in on you, and Maya is going to open the door at any second. Hands shaking, you silently sob as you try to pull your bra and dress back on.
"Are you fucking crying?" Sukuna whispers, grabbing your face. His fingers dig into your cheeks, causing your lips to jut out. Reading you face, eyes travelling in circles, he eventually lets go with sigh.
He paces around the small area, trying to see if the windows open. They won't.
"Are you shitting at a party?" Maya laughs degradingly. "You've got to be kidding me, Ryomen. Open this door right now. I can literally smell you from outside."
Sukuna ignores her, running his hands through his hair, a string of curses escaping his mouth. "Stop crying- why are you even crying???"
"Sh-she's my best friend-" You sob, scrambling to put your dress back on. "I-its all tangled…"
He sighs, helping you tug your dress onto your body. The material scratches at your skin, irritating it, but you can't bring yourself to care when you look at Sukuna's face and see his pupils blown wide and his breathing ragged.
You aren't sure if it's from the sex earlier or because he's fucking terrified of Maya as well.
"Okay, look. There's nowhere else you can go. So you have no choice but to get in here."
He tugs the shower curtain open, gesturing to the bathtub.
"What?" You whisper-yell.
It feels like you're about to pass out from anxiety. Nope- you're going to puke. You're definitely going to puke. Every bit of alcohol you consumed this night feels like it's making its way up your throat, whilst your tears betray you, making you choke.
"Jesus Christ, I'll take care of this, all right? I'll come get you- or you'll escape or some shit. But we'll be fine. Just get in the fucking tub." He grips your wrist harshly, shoving you in.
You stumble a bit, putting a hand over your mouth, and lying down. He shuts the curtains and exits the bathroom.
Sliding down the bathroom wall, each memory of every bad decision you had made this night replays in your head like a broken record. The cold surface taunts you as you try to seek comfort.
The tub is cold, and your head is pounding nearly as much as the door was when Maya was banging on it. You can hear the muffled sounds of their arguing from outside, but in this very moment, you're too focused on what excuse you'll come up with if she finds you in here.
This was the worst idea you've had in your entire life. Even drunk-you is able to establish that.
It would be nice to say that this whole incident made you forget about how good it felt. How good the sex felt. How good his body felt pressed against yours, tip hitting every single crevice of your stomach, but you can't say it's erased. Because you want more.
You're addicted to Ryomen Sukuna, and he's addicted to you.
—
After a few minutes, you're able to keep yourself quiet. Maya walks into the bathroom, and you can hear the zipper of her dress going down.
You feel like you're about to puke all over again, but you force yourself to keep it in. You hear the stream of piss she's letting out, and you try your best not to freak out.
"For God's sake." She whispers under her breath.
There's no toilet paper. She looks around the toilet, before spotting one of those fancy washcloths you use to dry your hands neatly placed on one of the racks.
The rack is right next to the tub.
You pray, over and over, that she doesn't see you. That she doesn't pull back the curtains.
Her hand gets closer. You can see the outline of her body reaching for the flannel. Your eyes glue shut, and you're sure that this is how you die.
Finally, by some miracle, she takes it without spotting you. You let out the tiniest breath of relief, but it doesn't end there.
She throws it into the tub, the fabric landing on your face. Shit, you really are gonna puke. Using the tips of your nails, you shove it off your face and gag. Karma's a bitch.
She finally exits the bathroom after washing her hands, and you allow yourself to sit up and make some noise. You sniffle, wiping your tears away as you go to put your shoes and bra back on, stepping out of the tub.
You look at yourself in the mirror. Mascara dripping down your cheeks, glitter smudged everywhere.
Fucking hell.
Did Sukuna get any glitter on him? Never mind. That's one extra problem for that dick head.
As you desperately try to fix your dress, your makeup, and your hair, you know there's only one thing you can't fix.
Words you heard just a few hours ago ring through your ears again and again, haunting you for the rest of the night.
⟢ on your way to work, you somehow end up squeezed between two attractive strangers (˶°ㅁ°) !!
“excuse me— sorry— oh god, i’m so sorry—”
the apology spills out of you before you can stop it, words tumbling over themselves as you squeeze through the morning crowd. your shoulder bumps a briefcase, someone complains behind you, and you barely manage to slip through the train doors before they slide shut with a sharp hiss.
you exhale. made it.
for about a second, just for the train to jerk forward without mercy. your balance disappears instantly, and suddenly you’re stumbling forward— straight into someone.
a solid chest.
a warm, steady hand catches your shoulder before your face can introduce itself to a very expensive-looking tie.
well.
one moment you were trying to occupy the last bit of space by the door. the next you’re wedged between two tall strangers.
one in front of you, one behind you.
the man behind you is calm, composed, blond. one arm lifts to brace against the wall just past your shoulder, his palm flat to steady himself as the train jolts. the position traps you between him and the man in front.
his other hand briefly steadies your arm so the sudden lurch doesn’t send you stumbling again.
“careful,” he says when someone bumps into you from the side.
his voice is low and even, like none of this bothers him in the slightest.
in front of you, the other man sighs softly. dark hair falls into tired eyes as he reaches up to grip the overhead handle, long fingers curling around the strap while he shifts his footing to keep steady with the train’s movement.
after a moment, the blond man glances down at you.
“just tell us when you need to get off, miss,” he says calmly.
the dark-haired man nods once, his voice just as low.
“we’ll make way for you.”
the train jolts again and both of them instinctively lean slightly forward, shifting their arms so the press of the crowd doesn’t shove you around.
you swallow a little.
commuting really is a full-contact sport.
for a while the three of you stand there in strangely comfortable silence, the rumble of the train filling the space.
finally, the familiar chime echoes through the carriage.
your stop.
you hesitate for a moment before speaking up.
“…excuse me. this is mine.”
both men move immediately.
“of course,” the dark-haired one says, already lowering his arm from the rail.
the other leans back slightly, somehow creating space in a train that seemed physically incapable of producing any.
“mind your step,” he adds as the crowd shifts.
you slip between them, squeezing toward the doors just before the train fully stops. the cold morning air hits your face the moment you step onto the platform.
you breathe out in relief.
finally, fresh air.
although, you didn‘t really mind your position earlier, but before you can think about it more you mentally slap yourself.
no time to be thinking about two strangers you‘ll probably never see again—
until you hear footsteps behind you.
you glance back.
the two men from the train step onto the platform as well.
…okay, coincidence. lots of people get off here.
you adjust the strap of your bag and start walking toward the station exit. the morning crowd begins to thin as people peel off in different directions.
but those same footsteps stay behind you.
you glance back again.
still them.
the blond one walks calmly beside the other, the two of them speaking to each other like nothing unusual is happening.
you face forward again, telling yourself that they just work nearby.
totally normal.
probably.
you turn down the street toward the office building you memorized from the job interview last week.
the footsteps follow.
you cross the street, and they cross too.
your brows knit together slightly as nerves flutter in your chest. must be first day jitters.
you step inside the lobby, checking the company name on your phone again just to be sure.
yep, this is the place.
you walk to the elevators just as the doors slide open.
perfect timing— you step inside.
just for them to step inside too.
your eyes widen slightly as the doors glide shut and silence settles over the elevator.
the blond man reaches out and presses a button, it’s the same floor number you were about to press.
you blink. “…oh.”
the dark-haired man glances at you first, recognition flickering across his face.
“well,” he says slowly.
then the blond man looks down at you.
“…it seems like we’re coworkers.”
the elevator continues upward with a soft hum and no one speaks for a moment.
then the blond man straightens slightly, his tone calm and professional.
“nanami kento.”
he gives a small nod.
the dark-haired man adjusts his sleeve beside him before adding with a small smile,
romaincrisis
baratheonpilled
discoholicmusic
prguitarman
andulkaphoto
areudirty
dededos
