AUGUST~!!!! i'm doingg great lovely 🥰 college has been kicking my butt too, but we persevere hihi i missed youuu so much!!
what have you been up to?? i'm getting back to writing again ^-^
college really brought our knees to the floor (we're begging literally) hshahdhahqhaha + I just finished my return demonstration and !! I'm still here active reading stuffs.... (I'm still thinking if I should write again) (It's been so so long since I posted!!)
why every clinical instructors has different styles of folding drapes, bottom sheets, top sheets, and lap sheets ???? (Love the idea of OR) (but it's gut wretching to do the return demos)
I’m so tired of reading just straight, no-plot smut!!!
You're the kind of person who never asks anyone for anything. It's probably one of your more toxic traits, but you’re working on it. After all, when you’ve basically raised yourself and taken care of a younger sibling at an early age, you grow into an incredibly independent person. If you can’t do something yourself, then you’ll wait until you can. If you can’t afford it, you’ll save until you have enough.
You were never privileged enough to ask your parents for help. No, that was never an option. And that self-reliant nature has driven many suitors away. They mistake your "I can do it myself" attitude as arrogance, or worse, as if you're trying to show off. Some might think you’re broadcasting that you don’t need anyone, especially not a man. But it's the opposite—who wouldn’t want to be spoiled or taken care of? The idea sounds nice, but for you, it's never been realistic.
And then came Sukuna.
When you and Sukuna first started going on dates and getting to know each other, it was painful. Awkward, even. The two of you had absolutely nothing in common. You hated him, or at least you convinced yourself you did. He had this mentality that if you were his woman, you should rely on him. On paper, that might sound sweet, even romantic. But it wasn’t how you worked. You were fiercely independent, and the thought of relying on anyone made you cringe.
You tried to distance yourself, talking to him less and less, hoping he’d take the hint. But no. He was determined. If it had been purely physical, sure, you would have been tempted—he was your type, exactly your type, from his looks to his presence. But you believed no relationship could survive on physical attraction alone. And it wasn’t just that; it was the way he thought, the way he wanted to take care of you. It clashed with everything you believed in, and you couldn’t stand it.
It was the difference in your ideologies that kept pulling you apart.
The more you rejected him, the more he tried. He’d get you gifts, leave sweet notes, and do everything that seemed straight out of a movie. But instead of melting your heart, it only made you think he was being fake, not his true self. Until one day, he completely cornered you.
It was pouring rain that day. Your car was in the shop, and taking the bus at this hour felt way too risky. You hesitantly asked your girlfriend for a ride, but she was out on a date with her boyfriend. Of course, she said his friend—Sukuna—would pick you up instead.
You were going to kill her for this.
The car ride was painfully silent, and all you wanted was to get home as fast as possible. But instead of driving you straight home, Sukuna parked in front of a restaurant. Then he turned to you with a serious expression.
“So, if you want to get home fast, you’d better tell me why you’ve been ignoring me. Otherwise, we’re going in to have dinner. And don’t think about leaving,” he added, glancing out the window. “It’s raining like hell, so your options are limited.”
He was dead serious. You looked at him, rolling your eyes in frustration. Why did he always have to make things so difficult? You had a long day, and all you wanted was to go home, cuddle with your cat, and forget about this mess.
“Look, Sukuna,” you sighed, your patience wearing thin, “I’m not in the mood to go back and forth with you. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I was trying to make it clear that I’m just not feeling you like that. So let’s just move on, okay? Please, just take me home.”
He looked at you and stayed silent, the sound of the rain hitting the car filling the air between you. After a moment, he sighed and leaned back in his seat.
"Y/N, if I’ve ever offended you on any of our dates or said something you misunderstood, just tell me. I have no problem apologizing. But I hate being left in the dark, not knowing what I did wrong while you ignore me. We don’t even have to continue whatever this is, but at least let me know what happened so we can move past it."
Wait… hold on. Was this man—Sukuna—actually apologizing? Taking accountability? He had nothing to apologize for, it was just a clash of views. But still, the fact that he was so direct and open about it caught you off guard. Sure, the bar for communication was low, but this was… different. Unexpected.
You turned your body toward him so you could see his face better. The car was dimly lit, the only light coming from the streetlamps and the glow outside the restaurant. He looked impossibly handsome—too handsome, really.
"No, I should be the one apologizing," you admitted, trying to sound mature. "I acted immature by ignoring you without any explanation. You didn’t say or do anything offensive, I just want to make that clear. I enjoyed our dates, and it was nice getting to know you. Truly." You paused, feeling a little awkward but pushing through it. "It’s just that the way you and I view relationships is a little different. And I didn’t want to waste your time—or mine—so I ended it early. That’s all."
You took a breath, hoping you sounded like a mature adult as you apologized.
After a long moment of staring out the window, he finally spoke, his voice low and serious. "What view of a relationship do you have that’s so different from mine? I need to know. I have my own thoughts, but I want to hear it from you."
You’d heard from friends that Sukuna was an intense man, driven and focused, but this was the first time you truly witnessed it firsthand. His sharp gaze was locked on you, his presence demanding an answer. You hesitated, the silence between you only broken by the steady drumming of rain. You glanced at the windows, noticing how the heat from your breath and the weather outside had started fogging up the car.
You sighed, gathering your thoughts. "I… I just don’t think I’m the right fit for you," you admitted quietly. "The kind of woman you’ve described wanting… that’s not me."
He didn’t interrupt, so you continued, feeling the weight of your words hang in the air. "You’ve said you like taking care of your partner in all ways, that you want them to rely on you. But that’s not who I am, Sukuna. I’m not the kind of person who can sit back and let someone else handle everything. I’ve always done things on my own. I don’t want to waste your time or disappoint you by pretending I could be something I’m not."
You bit your lip, waiting for his reaction. "You’re a good man, really. But I’m not that kind of woman who will need you like that."
After listening to your response, Sukuna smiled—just a small, knowing curve of his lips. "I asked your friend for a long time to set us up because I liked you from afar," he began, his tone softer than you expected. "You’re responsible. You know how to handle yourself. That’s what caught my attention."
His gaze didn’t waver as he continued, his words deliberate. "I’ve been taken advantage of before, but that doesn’t mean I’ll change who I am. I want to take care of the person I’m with, to look out for them. But this isn’t about me." He leaned in slightly, his eyes searching yours. "What is it in you that makes you feel unworthy of being taken care of?"
You froze, completely caught off guard. Gagged wasn’t even the word for it. Your mind scrambled, stunned into silence by the unexpected depth of his question. He wasn’t just addressing the surface issue; he was cutting right to the heart of something deeper, something you hadn’t even realized you were carrying.
When you didn’t respond, Sukuna didn’t let the silence linger. He leaned back slightly, his eyes still fixed on you as he continued, "I know why I want to take care of someone. I’ve come to terms with it, acknowledged it. But you…" He paused, studying your face. "You’re still fighting yourself."
His voice softened, though it lost none of its weight. "I see it in your eyes every time we’re together—you’re uncomfortable, almost like you can’t stand the idea of someone else taking the lead. The need to control everything, to handle it all on your own… it’s driving people away."
He let his words sink in for a moment before leaning forward, his gaze unwavering. "Don’t you think that’s a little strange? Always keeping people at arm’s length just because you don’t want to let them help you?" He paused, waiting for a reaction, his eyes searching yours. "Think about it, Y/N. You’re smart—don’t let that fear stop you."
After dropping that bombshell of a question on you—one that felt like homework for your soul—Sukuna leaned back, letting his words marinate in your mind. He glanced out at the rain, which had finally stopped, and without a word, he opened his door and stepped out. You watched in confusion as he walked around to your side, opening the door for you like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Still reeling from the conversation, you looked at him, unsure of what to expect next.
"Let me treat you to dinner," he said, his voice softer now, but no less confident. "This is my favorite spot for steak. Come on."
His eyes were steady, inviting but leaving you no room to argue. And for once, you hesitated—not because you didn’t want to go, but because you weren’t sure how to respond to the way he’d just cracked open something inside you.
Stepping out, your heel hit the wet concrete with a soft splash, and the two of you walked toward his favorite steakhouse. As you walked side by side, you couldn't help but glance at what he was wearing—gray pants and a simple hoodie. Meanwhile, you were still in your office dress and long black coat. Overdressed, while he was clearly underdressed, but somehow, it didn’t feel awkward. It was just… the two of you.
As you neared the entrance, Sukuna’s voice cut through the quiet night. "Think about what I said. I like you—a lot. Romantically, if you want that to be clear." His tone was calm but earnest, his words hanging in the cool night air. "I do want a serious relationship with you, but if all I can do is help you figure things out, I’ll settle for that too." He reached for the door, holding it open for you, his gaze steady. "Just… think about it."
The dinner went well. You both talked about your day, and when Sukuna asked why yours had felt so long, you shared everything that had happened. He reciprocated, detailing his own busy schedule running multiple businesses and taking care of his younger brother. You admired how well he handled himself despite the weight of his responsibilities. Arrogant and prideful, yes, but he had earned his confidence and knew when to lighten up, often surprising you with his ability to apologize when necessary.
As dessert arrived, you felt the urge to pay your share. But then you remembered what he’d said about wanting to take care of you, and as you hesitated, he caught the look on your face. A smirk crept onto his lips, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.
The conversation flowed more easily than before, yet there was still an underlying tension, an undeniable chemistry that charged the air around you. It felt like a fine line between comfort and awkwardness, and you weren’t sure how to navigate it.
When he dropped you off at your place, he turned to you, a serious look in his eyes. “If your car is still at the shop, I can drop you off tomorrow. What time do you go to work?”
You opened the car door, taking your bag from the back seat. “Oh, no. Thank you for today, but I don’t want to trouble you. I can take the bus in the morning.” You tried to reassure him, but before you could step out, he gently pulled you back by your wrist.
“If I have to train you to relax, then I will, ma. What time do you want me at your door tomorrow?” He leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. It was hard to focus on anything but the beauty of his face and the tattoo peeking out from under his collar. You swallowed hard, trying to calm your racing heart.
“You can come at 8. I can make you breakfast as a thank you,” you whispered, your gaze flickering between his eyes and lips. The tension was almost unbearable, leaving you breathless. Was it just you, or was the wine you had at dinner intensifying this moment?
“That sounds good to me.” His voice was low, his breath tickling your ear as he leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your cheek before letting go of your wrist. He straightened up, looking as if nothing had happened, but you could feel the lingering warmth where he had touched you.
“Good night,” he said, his smile mischievous and dangerous. Oh, this man was trouble.
