frat!sukuna crashing out over gojo trying to steal his baby mama!
frat!sukuna wouldn't say he baby trapped you.
because apparently, the whole trap part didn't fucking work in the first place.
if it did, you wouldn't be letting rival frat president!gojo buy you groceries and grin at you like he couldn't wait to get in your panties. freak just wanted to try your fucking breast milk.
the white-haired idiot had no interest in changing diapers or pushing around strollers or burping a four-month old only to end up with a trail of spit down his shirt.
but noooooo, it seemed like you still thought he would make a better boyfriend than the actual father of your child.
sure, okay, it wasn't like the two of you had ever officially dated. but fucking in the bathroom at frat parties was and going out for breakfast together the morning after was kinda close? besides, you were supposed to come to him all doe-eyed and distraught with a pregnancy test in hand to let him lock you down for good and become future father of the year. not just retreat and run away - right into the arms of a waiting buffoon with nothing better to do than beg for your attention.
he'd been trying to step up. but someone wouldn't stop getting in the goddamn way.
sukuna knew you used to tutor him. he just hadn't known how borderline obsessed gojo was with you.
intercepting his calls, pretending to be you over text, trying to tell him the wrong times for appointments and pick ups, everything possible in his power to put himself firmly between the two of you. you didn't even believe him when he tried to tell you either.
rolling your eyes and swearing that satoru would never.
you were naive. a little awkward. the shy sort that got all agitated at the slightest bit of attention. sukuna liked the way you flushed just from a few words, how you refused to meet his stare unless you were laid bare beneath him, biting your lip or burying your face into his collarbone when he groaned your name.
so how the hell had a guy like satoru gojo sunk his claws into you right under his nose?
"he just wants to fuck you," sukuna gritted his teeth, trying not to actually growl when you slid into the booth across from him - all while mr. moron who snuck in walked over to the barista with your baby strapped to his chest.
"i think you're projecting," you muttered under your breath, arching up an eyebrow and swirling a straw around the drink sukuna already ordered you. your favorite.
"i never said i didn't," he sharply retorted, holding his chin up high like it wasn't eating him fucking alive seeing you act like a married couple with gojo when that was supposed to be him.
"come on, it's not like you're actually interested anymore," you murmured, shaking your head as you sighed at him.
"what the fuck are you talking about?" he frowned, brows furrowed tight.
"you're surrounded by sorority girls most weekends," you shrugged, as if he wasn't trying to spend every night you'd let him at your place taking night shifts with his son. "and i just had a baby."
"did he fucking say something to you?" he snapped, squinting accusingly at gojo before swiveling his head back to you.
you were all flustered, your cute face scrunching as you scoffed and motioned for him to lower his voice, "it's common sense. we're not together. of course you're sleeping with other girls. it's fine, i-"
"no, no, i'm-" he protested, but you weren't finished, awkwardly mumbling that it wasn't like the two of you were ever something serious anyway.
"satoru asked me to be his girlfriend yesterday," you added, shoulders sheepishly bobbing up. "so, you know, if you decide to date around too, it's not gonna be weird or anything."
"did you say yes?" he gawked, grinding his molars as he debated on banging his own head against the wall of the cafe.
"well, not yet," you mumbled, tilting your head to the side. "but i'm-"
"you two talkin' about me?" your not-boyfriend chuckled, grinning as he returned with a bag filled with muffins and croissants and whatever else filled with sugar he could find on the menu.
you opened your mouth to speak, but then you abruptly glanced down at your chest, mouth pressing together as you sighed and slipped out of the booth, holding your arm's out to take your baby back. his baby back. "i think i'm about to start leaking. i'm gonna go feed her out in the car."
sukuna almost said that no one would give a shit if you fed him in here. but he knew you better. knew you'd never be comfortable with that - so he bit his tongue, not exactly pleased at the prospect of spending the next twenty minutes sitting here with gojo waiting for you to come back.
"her tits look fuckin' great, don't they?" satoru chirped the second you slipped out the door, loudly opening the bag and popping the first thing he pulled out into his mouth.
"shut the fuck up," sukuna snapped at him, scowling as he resisted the urge to strangle him.
the asshole was just trying to ragebait him.
and it was unfortunately working a little too well.
"can i ask you something?" gojo grinned, crumbs falling to the table as he spoke with a full mouth.
simon whines when he cums, making pathetic little noises as you work him through his orgasm, still trapped in your walls. you brush his hair away from his face, his blonde curls growing out of the army crop.
your hands brush against his scars, before he buries his face in your neck, “love- love…” he lets out a sigh, and your fingernails scratch his back, “y-you feel so good love.”
you just gently pry his chin off you, looking into his eyes, cock softening in you, as you look up into his eyes. “you feel so good.” you say, gently, “you always do such a good job baby.”
he just looks back down at you with hazy eyes, that clear quickly. “love, i gotta get you pregnant, gotta make sure it sticks.”
you smile up at him, “course it’ll stick.”
“just one more time, just to make sure?”
( + he sits with you through all the morning sickness nausea )
synopsis: when your best friend leaves you alone at a party, someone else decides to take his spot
content warning: mdni, DUBCON, BABY TRAPPING, gojo is lowk yandere guys, angst and smut, modern college au, jealousy, drinking, frat parties, sukina being a manwhore, gojo is OBSESSED with you, backshots, unprotected piv sex, creampie, aftercare, pregnancy
"Wanna go find a bedroom?" A pretty giggle and a hand on his bulging bicep, lipstick stuck to his neck and staining his collar. His low laugh, deep and rough.
And none of it was belonged to you.
"Whatever," Sukuna grunted, letting some drunk girl with dyed hair drag him away while you watched from the corner of the couch, sipping on beer and wishing you had said no to coming with him to this stupid frat party.
He was your best friend - that you happened to be desperately in love with.
You weren't delusional. Didn't think him asking you here was a date. Just a way to celebrate your final semester at college, the last few weeks before graduation. But you'd kind of convinced yourself that with a little liquid courage, maybe you'd kiss him. Play it off like a drunk mistake if he hated it and just hope that he didn't.
Your last bits of hope dried up as he disappeared up the stairs.
That was just the way it went.
Sukuna fucked another girl the same way his scowl and chuckles fucked with your feelings. You were used to it after years of crushing and yearning uselessly after him.
You were too busy wallowing in your own self-loathing to notice the guy plopping down next to you on the couch.
"What kind of host would I be to let a pretty girl drink by herself?" A familiar voice leaned over to purr in your ear, poking your cheek just so you'd swat his hand away.
"I'm about to leave, Gojo," You lied, leaning over to set your drink down on his coffee table. A rich and relentless flirt who wasn't used to not getting his way. His parents could probably buy the university if they wanted to, a six-figure job just waiting for him the second he walked off stage with his degree next month.
Sukuna hated him. You were mostly indifferent. He was like a fly buzzing around, landing on you every time you forgot about him. They'd been in a couple fights though, over dumb boy shit, usually, playing the same sport and at all the same parties and clubs.
You were pretty sure any interest Gojo has in you was directly correlated to his desire to piss Sukuna off.
"I need a beer pong partner," He complained, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.
"I'm sure there's fifty other girls here who'd be happy to," You rolled your eyes, about to push off the couch but forgetting his leg was there, accidentally grabbing his muscled thigh before you ripped your hand away.
"I don't want them," He pouted. "I want you."
The wrong guy felt a lot more like the right one when he was saying stuff like that.
You just wanted someone to like you.
"Fine, but just one game," You reluctantly agreed, gritting your teeth.
And you meant it, alright?
Except when you won, and he picked you up, spinning you around by your waist and peppering your cheeks with kisses while bragging about you to everyone listening about how good his girl was?
Whatever tethered you to your sensibility snapped and you kissed him back. Missing his cheek to plant a messy one on his lips.
And the next thing you knew, you were in his bedroom, your panties and your party dress ripped off, your face buried in a pillow as he delivered the meanest backshots you ever received, his cock slamming into your soaking cunt every three seconds when you stammered out his name.
"F-fuck, oh God, S'toru," You whined, your voice weak and muffled as his hips smacked into your ass again. Everything felt too warm inside, the pleasant fuzz in your chest from earlier turning into a blazing fire.
He abruptly pulled out, massive hands flipping you over, clumsily pushing your plush thighs up to your chest, admiring the connection between you when he shoved his thick cock back in, inch by inch disappearing into your heat.
"So pretty," He hummed, drawing little patterns you were too fucked out to process on your skin with his thumb. "All mine now, yeah?"
You weren't listening. Weren't even sure you were on the same planet anymore. Just lost in the haze of him thrusting inside you, the way his bright eyes held yours hostage, glittering even in the low lamp light, how his sweet cologne disarmed and enchanted you.
"Mhm," You nodded, vaguely aware the biggest dick at school has fucked you dumb on his own stupidly large cock, and not even able to bring yourself to despise it.
You just wanted more of him.
"You wanna be my girl?" He teased, one of his hands sliding down to paint the same patterns over your clit, barely sweeping over it just to make you jolt.
"Pl-please," You pleaded, face scrunching up and lips parting, unsure if you were begging him to make you cum or just make you his.
But he did both.
Massaging your sore and needy bud with just enough pressure to push you over the edge, but this time, he was painting your cunt white, cumming right as you cried out, the distinct feeling of something warm and wet leaking down your thighs and onto his sheets before you even finished coming undone.
He got up to clean you, his cock still pretty and pink and swollen as it bobbed with every step, cum and slick coating it as he hurried to grab a washcloth from the attached bathroom. He ran it under warm water, using it to wipe you down, throwing you some of his clothes, a t-shirt and some boxers that were too big before sliding on a pair too and crawling back in bed with you.
You were awkward, cautiously glancing back at him and blinking hard as you pulled his shirt over your head, not sure what other options you really had considering your dress was reduced to scraps in the heat of the moment.
But then he pulled you back against his chest, snuggling you against him like you were a couple and not just, well, whatever you actually were.
"Shouldn't you go back out there?" You mumbled, starting to pull away before his hand tightened on the back of your neck, keeping you in place with a pout.
"Nah," He dismissed. "I'd rather be here."
You didn't know why you stayed, other than the embarrassment of walking out in Gojo's clothes. You'd probably have to creep out in the morning, hoping everyone else was too wasted or hungover to notice, or get him to give you a ride. But that wasn't really an excuse for cuddling back with him, your leg thrown over his and your arms wrapped around his side. Dozing off on his soft mattress, his fingers dancing over your spine and tracing soft shapes soothing you to sleep.
Banging woke you up, someone pounding on his door.
It could've been thirty minutes or three hours, the party reduced to a dull hum in the background, huffing as you buried your face back against Gojo's warm chest.
"Open the fuck up," Sukuna's voice boomed through the door, his fist slamming against the wood veneer like he was hoping to splinter it.
Your blood ran cold.
Gojo was already awake, a crooked smile spreading across his face while he listened to Sukuna shouting your name from the hall.
"Go back to sleep, baby," He murmured softly to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before untangling your limbs.
He didn't cover you with a blanket though.
You wondered if he wanted Sukuna to see what you looked like wearing his clothes.
You rolled away from the door, pressing your face to the pillow so you wouldn't have to know what sort of face Sukuna made when he found out you betrayed him.
"What's up, man?" Gojo casually greeted, the door swinging open with a creak after he flipped the lock.
"What the fuck-" Sukuna's harsh voice stopped the second he saw you in the bed, curled up in Gojo's shirt and (pretending to be) asleep.
"Is there a problem?" He wryly taunted, and you could just picture his face, the glint in his eyes and the way his white brow would arch up.
"I'll fucking kill you," Sukuna growled.
"Can it wait until tomorrow? Don't wanna wake sleeping beauty up," Gojo mocked.
He didn't wait for Sukuna to reply before slamming the door shut in his face.
You didn't say anything. Just let him pull you back against him. And when you woke up the next morning? He had fresh clothes and breakfast delivered, letting you eat in his bed and insisting he'd have to wash everything anyway.
"Wanna go on a date today?' He asked while you were using his shower, peeking his head through the curtain with an easy smile.
"What?" You blinked, trying to work out if this was just also part of his plan to get back at Sukuna or if he was serious.
"I was thinking the zoo, or maybe that new bakery that opened up?" He proceeded to throw out options like you'd already said yes, and somehow, you found yourself in the passenger seat of his car two hours later with his hand on your thigh and his chatter in your ears about what souvenir he was going to buy you.
Pretending not to feel the weight of your phone in your pocket, switched to do not disturb so you wouldn't have to deal with the hundred texts and calls from Sukuna about you sleeping with the enemy.
Part of you wondered if there wouldn't be any, if he'd just discard and be done with you entirely now.
But when Gojo was grinning and laughing with you, when he touched you and planted kisses all over your skin, you were starting to think it might be a trade worth making.
Except, uh, after a few weeks, the honeymoon period passed. The day your period was supposed to start came and went with it, a pregnancy test confirming what you dreaded.
Fuck.
It wasn't until you told him the next day with tears in your eyes that you realized there might be something worse than him not wanting your baby. It was the possibility he planned for it.
"I'm really gonna be a dad?" He grinned, no what-are-we-gonna-do, no how-did-this-happen, not an ounce of regret.
"Satoru, can you be serious for two seconds? This is a big deal," You scolded, but he was already placing your hand on your stomach.
"I am serious," He teased, drawing a heart over your belly button this time. "I'll take care of you and our baby. You wanna tell my parents first? Or should we get eloped?"
You were wrong. He wasn't a fly.
He was a spider.
And you were just the unfortunate bug wrapped up tight in his web.
synopsis: someones dreams can also be anothers nightmare. that case is especially true for you as you suffer through y/n's whirlwind romance with your boss, satoru gojo.
content/warnings: crack, this is all crack, y/n is a completely different character from reader, there's some smuț but it's not very goon worthy, toxic work place, everyone needs help, #freereader, ft. ceo!sukuna
(read in order)
who pushed you?
push me (to the edge)
new boss, who dis?
yeah, kitten.
you’d lose
promise?
/forbiddenyaoi
#sukugo
friends?
it’s not that simple
thots n prayers
doberman
extras: side character reader asks
notes: i just realized i never made a master list for this
i noticed while i was reading that some of the covers had outfits in common, but i didn't really parse that if you look at all the covers side by side they tell little linear stories of nana and hachi spending time together
tw: angst, grief, me unnecessarily hurting myself on this fine saturday
your life with sukuna wasn’t perfect.
you both lived in a shitty studio, one that wasn’t in the best part of the city. a bartender and a line chef. getting off work late at night, waking up in the afternoons with your limbs tangled together, always holding on to each other a little too tight from the broken heater your building never bothered to fix.
and no, neither of you were happy with your circumstances, but you were happy with each other, even if you were just going through the motions half the time.
date nights were on the top of the building— sitting on a blanket, watching the sunset, eating whatever sukuna was able to throw together on the wok. it could be something made from food scraps in the fridge and he’d still manage to make the studio smell heavenly.
that was if you two got there first. if not, maybe a stroll through the city after a couple shots. looking up at the bright neon lights, telling each other jokes. stupid ones. rolling your eyes at the lewd ones he’d always end up whispering your ear.
you miss him.
deeply.
it’s been exactly a year. the dark circles around your eyes are as prominent as ever. you’re as tired as ever. maybe more. falling asleep was difficult. you always slept better when he was around, always waited for him to come home before even thinking about it.
grief is strange.
you can’t find it in yourself to cry anymore as you sit before his grave, but you did argue with him in your head when you were in the grocery store earlier.
don’t waste your money on god damn flowers. daisies? seriously?
would you prefer the pink roses instead?
i’d prefer it if you didn’t blow away your last twenty on something that’s going to wilt in a couple days.
smart ass.
pink roses it is.
what was he going to do? he’s gone.
“i told you not to get that damn bike,” you murmur, eyes locked on his name etched on to the cold slab of stone.
he was so happy when he came home with it. all that comes to mind is the smile on his face as he rode that thing around the city, how free he looked. it was one of those things that made him look forward to tomorrow.
you couldn’t even be bitter about it, even if it was the thing that took him away from you. he wouldn’t have been mad going out the way he did, he loved that thing. the only thing he’d be actually mad about is you spending money on a shitty bouquet of flowers.
“deal with it, asshole.”
you let out a soft laugh, catching a faint whiff of seared steak and cigarette smoke. he must really be mad.
synopsis: what's better to be than sukuna's crazy girlfriend? his crazy ex-girlfriend? when it comes to making up, breaking up, and everything in between, it seems sukuna's got your heart in his hands - and has no intention of letting it go. for better or worse. but probably worse.
pairing: boyfriend!sukuna x toxic!reader x landlord!toji
content: mdni. fluff and angst. porn with plot. crack treated seriously. reader and sukuna are both toxic and crazy. do NOT be like these idiots. jealousy. possessiveness. throwing shit. insecure and anxious behavior. oral sex. piv sex. rebounds. breaking up and making up.
art cr: @bitem4rked sparkle gif div cr: @pixopix div cr: @miyzluv
locking him out after boys night
sukuna eating a pudding cup goes viral
making him jealous out clubbing
hooking up with his landlord after a bad breakup
sukuna attempts to sabotage your new relationship
you both know where home is.
this whole mini series is inspired by the incredibly talented @yenayaps hehe :3
[ content: crazy!reader, fluff (?), rage baiting sukuna, #makehispocketshurt, for my cutie pie @indiewritesxoxo think of this as a love letter ]
Most people never understood your relationship with Sukuna.
For the most part, you were a friendly, upbeat person—talking to strangers in line at the grocery store, talking up the baristas making your coffee orders, sharing recipes with call center agents when the call got too long.
Then there’s the big grumpy man that’s always standing right behind you, and he never fails to look miserable when doing so. Strangers will try to speak to him and he’ll either grunt in response or just pretend to not hear them at all. Same goes for baristas. The last time he spoke with customer service through the phone, the agent started the call off by saying they hoped he was having a good day so far—Sukuna got annoyed and grumbled, “no you fucking don’t,” in hopes that they’d stop with the pleasantries.
Overall, he’s just kind of a dick. They look at you and immediately think of some horrific scenario like Sukuna yelling at you for not having dinner done by the time he got home.
That brings them to the question: how do you two even get along?
And your answer to that is: you kinda don't.
But that's okay! You knew what you were signing up for and you don't regret it one bit. You love him, and you love making him angry. It's so easy, too. Who needs therapy when you can just stress him out? Exactly.
So you sent the text.
[You]: are you fucking serious right now? i had to find out from HER?
[My Husband 🥰]: what are you talking about?
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
[My Husband 🥰]: babe pick up the phone
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
[My Husband 🥰]: what the fuck are you even talking about? find out WHAT???
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
[My Husband 🥰]: BABE
[My Husband 🥰]: PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
Missed call from My Husband 🥰
The only reason why the phone calls stopped was because you blocked him, but he would’ve kept calling until his phone died. It’s happened before.
Soon you get a Zelle notification.
R. Sukuna has sent you $200.00.
Memo: unblock me.
You sent R. Sukuna $20.00.
Memo: you can keep your fucking money
R. Sukuna has sent you $20.00.
Memo: you can’t just tell me to keep my money but then pocket more than half of it. and what the fuck am i gonna do with 20 dollars??
You sent R. Sukuna $2.00.
Memo: and now you have 2, see what happens when you don’t appreciate what you have?
R. Sukuna has sent you $2.00.
Memo: what the fuck does that even mean?? can you just unblock me already?
You sent R. Sukuna $0.50.
Memo: no
R. Sukuna has sent you $100.00.
Memo: JESUS FUCKJNGCHRIST UNBLOCK ME
You sent R. Sukuna $0.01.
Memo: NO
You sent R. Sukuna $0.01.
Memo: we’re out of sugar and creamer btw don’t forget to grab some on your way home
'no, i can't forget you. you taught me how to love. you taught me how to dance.'
pairing: ex! sukuna x reader
word count: 1k
tags: angst. no curses au.
synopsis: sukuna seems to finally move on but he's been living life through distractions to forget about you. It’s not until he hears a familiar salsa song that he’s reminded of you and the unforgettable dance that you taught in his life.
a note from an angel: back with more angst!! you can read debi tirar mas photos here but it's not necessary to read for this part, i also recommend listening to the song too and reading the lyrics !!
He should be enjoying this backyard party right now, after all he was being introduced to his new partner’s family for the first time. The sun is only beginning to set and the aroma of a barbecue arouses hunger within the party guests.
But he has no appetite.
Kids run around and laughter can be heard from the conversations around him. He’s currently sitting in the corner, a cool beer bottle in his hand that does nothing to help him survive the humidity of a late summer day. Music plays in the background from a large speaker, it’s loud but not loud enough to cover up conversations. He feels out of place. He’s not sure what to do or where his partner’s gone but he won’t talk to anyone unless they come up to him first.
The music smoothly switches to salsa music and the melody is bouncy, encouraging others to get up and dance. Sukuna watches as couples begin to emerge in the open space of the backyard, grabbing each other’s hand and dancing on instinct.
And that’s when it hits. It only takes a few seconds of listening to the song before the ache in his heart returns.
He thought he got rid of it a long time ago. Sukuna thought he found the remedy to this feeling by distracting himself with work, by taking on endless shifts. Hell, he’s even been offering to take Yuji out more often just to stop himself from staying at home staring up at the ceiling and thinking about you all day.
But he was wrong. He hasn’t moved on. It’s always when he least expects that it hits him. It’s hard to describe but it feels like there’s an ache in his heart that he can’t get rid of, followed by a choked up feeling in his throat. Despite being around all these people he can’t shake the feeling of emptiness within him.
You were like a disease that he couldn’t find a remedy for. Every waking moment when he’s not occupying or distracting himself his mind always leads back to you. He wonders what you’re doing in this current moment, he wonders how you would react if you saw him right now.
His thumbs circle the rim of his beer bottle as the memories of you return to him once again. He feels guilty for even thinking about you right now, when he should be moving on. He was doing everything right he thought, he was taking this new relationship slow, he was communicating and setting boundaries. Yet it wasn’t what he wanted. He couldn’t help but notice every time he kisses his new girl that her lips weren’t as soft as yours.
He silently observes the couples dance, cheered on by the others. They all seemed mesmerising as they didn’t miss a beat, moving to the tempo.
So how come he was the only one who messed up the rhythm in his life?
The music reminds him of when you once took him to a bar with a familiar salsa rhythm playing in the dimmed scenery.
He doesn’t dance and he’s told you that he basically has two left feet. But that didn’t matter to you in the moment as you dragged him to the dancefloor before he could even stop you. Sukuna didn’t even know what pushed him to say yes to you; maybe it was because of how beautiful you looked under those dimmed lights and how you gave him that look that makes him cave in and give you everything you’ve ever wanted.
He only really learned the basics from you: two steps forward and two steps back. He was awkward and a bit out of step at the beginning but once the music continued to play he slowly warmed up to the rhythm.
“Hey you’re swaying a little too, you’re doing better than you thought.”
Sukuna’s not one for praise but hearing that from you makes him want to do anything to impress you. The two of you continued to dance, there wasn’t much of an audience so Sukuna wasn’t too embarrassed. You were patient with him even when you didn’t have to be. He was a hard person to love but you didn’t run away. For the first time Sukuna had met someone who wasn’t scared of him or for lack of better words, someone who hadn’t given up on him.
You taught him how to love. You were the very first to teach him how to be gentle, how to consider the feelings of others around him and how to be patient.
You were the only one who taught him how to love and he doesn’t think anyone else could replace that. Not even his new girlfriend. Sukuna continues to watch the couples dance right till the end of the song, he doesn’t even blink, completely fixated on how comfortable each couple are with each other. Just through the way they look at each other you can tell how much they love each other. Not one of them stumbles or hesitates, the steps completely dedicated to memory.
If given the chance Sukuna would like to go over the steps with you again. Your hands hold his own, guiding him and keeping him steady. He can still picture the smile on your face when the two of you develop your own rhythm.
As of this moment Sukuna’s already decided. He can’t forget you. And he doesn’t think there’ll be a time where he ever will. You’re committed to his mind until the party dies down into the late hours of the night. His partner returns asking for his hand to dance but he refuses with a shake of his head. His usual excuse makes a sudden return. “I don’t dance.”
A lie — but you’re the only person on earth who knows the truth.
The steps that he danced with you would be forever ingrained in his mind and they couldn’t be recreated with another. He knows deep down that he would be out of step with her, stumbling and losing the rhythm. Making a fool of himself.
He can’t revive what he had with you with another.
Again, Sukuna wouldn’t call himself a dancer but loving you was a dance that he would never forget.
thank you for reading! reblogs and comments are much appreciated!!
if you enjoyed this work i reccommend reading debi tirar mas photos here!
a note from angel: im sorry i need to stop making new series this is an addiction of mine that i can't stop, pls sukuna leave me alone, i feel like im making a multiverse of sukunas.
synopsis: trying a new coffee shop didn't end up going your way when a mean barista takes your order. the problem? he's rude as fuck but he's the best at making your drinks. when you end up giving him a taste of his own medicine, you end up in a deal where this grumpy barista finds himself in the habit of making your morning coffee. everyday. for the next seven days.
tags: enemies to lovers, modern au, barista!sukuna, fluff, crack
word count: 3.7k words
Coffee is part of your daily routine.
If you don't start your day with coffee then it can be ensured that the day will be a terrible day.
You're not strict about your coffee, you don't simply stick to one type of drink. You're the type to explore and try new things. From lattes, to espressos, to cappuccinos, matcha, chai tea, hojicha and a lot more. The convenience of living in a big city is that there will always be a bunch of cafes and coffee shops to try with new businesses opening all over the blocks.
You've made it your own personal mission to try as many new shops in the city, not limiting yourself to one place. You want to support as much of the local businesses as possible, staying away from the big corporate brands. You have enough dealing with business and corporate issues in your work life so the least you can do is support your local community in your personal free time.
On your scout to work you happen to come across a new coffee shop. It's slightly hidden on the block but the brand name and minimalist colours catch your eye.
'Fuga.'
You're interested immediately. Coming to a stop outside, the meaning of the shop name is printed in white on the window. 'Fuga — One of the Japanese meanings of this is 'a way of elegance or grace'. We hope to include fuga with every order that we take; there's no rush, just sit back and enjoy.'
The opening and closing times are also unusual. They're open in time for the usual morning rush hour but unlike other coffee stores, they stay open until 9pm. You can't imagine the shifts that their staff must take and how much happens behind the scenes.
Despite being hidden, it is the morning rush hour on a weekday and through the window you can clearly see that there is a queue forming. Underrated coffee shops get discovered pretty quickly these days thanks to social media and it's not long until they'll be announcing a sister location somewhere else in the city.
Stepping inside, a bell chimes overhead but it's drowned out due to the hustle and bustle inside the shop. The scent of crushed coffee beans hits you immediately and the sound of lofi music playing in the background is just about heard over the level of conversations in the store.
Joining the queue, your eyes scan the cafe. It's pretty spacey compared to the other units that most coffee shops rent out. There's clearly more places to sit in the back and all of the window seats are currently taken. There's a handful of students and people in suits either sat working away on their laptops or taking a call. In the corner an old man is sitting back and enjoying a cup of his own hot coffee.
There's three people currently manning the counter and you worry whether that means service is slow but on further observation you notice they work well, weaving in and out of each other. There's a man situated at the till, tall and large you first notice. Then you see that he has pink hair and it's only when you inch closer to being served that you notice he has an array of black tattoos. They're printed on his face as well as around his wrists and you start to wonder how many baristas you've seen with face tattoos.
He seems to be the first.
Behind him seems to be a white haired figure with a plum pink stripe dyed into their hair. It's clear that whoever employs these people are very laid back with how they are presented. The figure moves quickly but also with caution pouring and making drinks before bringing them to the collection section and calling out a name.
You've been so caught up in studying the new environment of the cafe that you don't even realise that it's your turn next. You haven't had the chance to look at the menu so when you finally do, you're left with your mouth open in front of the tattooed man. And on closer observation you find that he's rather intimidating.
"Good morning." you greet.
"What do you want?" he asks in a monotone tone evident that he's been repeating this question for a while. You brush off the fact that he hasn't greeted you back and you simply hum as you stare at the menu.
It's evident that you're irritating the barista by not even knowing what you want, the bored expression on his face and his finger impatiently tapping the counter. Your eyes are scanning the menu until he finally says something that in all of your years of going to local cafes have never heard in your life.
"Can you hurry up?"
"Excuse me?"
"I said," he draws as if it's painfully inconveniencing him to repeat himself, "can you hurry up? There's a queue behind you." It's evident in his tone that he's not asking but rather ordering you to do so and for a split second there's a moment in which you forget that you are in fact the customer.
"I'm aware." you say, "I'm deciding."
"You had two minutes to decide." he retorts.
"I've never been here before, of course I'm going to take my time looking at the menu." you keep a calm tone making it clear that you don't want any misunderstandings.
"Do you want a medal? What's your order?"
Fine. You think to yourself, you're gonna give him the benefit of the doubt.
Maybe it's been a long morning, maybe he wasn't supposed to be on shift today but then got called in, maybe he's just an asshole. You don't care. But what you do care about is getting your morning coffee as usual.
"Vanilla latte with oat milk please."
"We're out of oat milk." he announces keeping his tone flat with enough space to add some frustration into it as if this was your own fault.
"Really?"
He doesn't reply, keeping a blank face that silently asks 'do I look like I'm joking?'
"Uhhh, could I get an iced strawberry matcha then please?"
"We're out."
You hold back a sigh, forcing a tight lipped smile on your face. "Fine. A cappuccino. Any milk you have. Please."
The barista doesn't look up, tapping onto a screen. "Regular or large?"
"What's the difference?" you ask.
He points to the side where the size cup differences are shown and as usual the large is 50p extra.
"Regular."
"Name?"
After giving your name, he mutters something under his breath and if you were in a bad mood this morning then you would have asked him what his issue was but instead you keep quiet, silently wishing he spills lukewarm coffee all over his disgustingly attractive face. Somehow. If it was logical to spill coffee on one's face.
"Four fifty. Tap your card and stand over there." he orders without any patience.
You don't even think twice before tapping your phone and moving immediately. In your mind you continue to curse him forever whilst watching his back muscles move swiftly as he makes your drink. Him and the white haired figure switched places with him making your order and his co-worker now at the till.
You expected a long wait but it takes less than five minutes before he's yelling out your name with impatience.
And he pronounced it wrong.
Whether it was on purpose or he wasn't listening to you at all, you'll never know but you go ahead and take your order. You can't even say thank you directly before he's rushing off and completing another order. Deciding to get out as soon as possible, you grab as many sugar packets you need, a stirrer and you head on out.
"How fucking rude." you mutter to yourself, opening the lid to your cappuccino. There's no latte art and you wouldn't expect there to be given the rush. You pour your sugar in and stir until satisfied, slowly making your way to the office building.
Sure, you know baristas are sometimes not the most welcoming people given the high stress level of their jobs and you've come across some reclusive baristas before but this one…he's just plain rude. You don't usually complain about how people do their job but this one has really struck a nerve.
How was he hired in the first place? Does the manager know he speaks to customers like this? How did he even pass an interview to get hired for this place? Does he act like this with all his customers?
Those are the questions that you continue to ask yourself whilst on the way to work, you get a little distracted after taking a sip of your coffee and coming to find out that your cappuccino is actually pretty good. Usually some cafes don't do cappuccinos the right way but there's something about this cup that makes you wonder what exact type of coffee bean they use.
You make a mental note to check later in your free time and it's not long before you start to feel rejuvenated by your coffee. Despite your bad customer service, you still manage to get a good cup of coffee to support your day and it's almost enough to forget your bad interaction.
***
Almost.
That cup of coffee was good.
Good enough to make you check their company website and check their 'about us' page.
And of course it just so happens that you stumble onto their google reviews.
Fuga Coffee Shop | reviews (54)
Naturally, your laptop cursor clicks onto their reviews. They only opened two months ago so it's understandable why the reviews must be so low, they're just starting out. The reviews are automatically filtered to their top reviews, which is from just over two weeks ago.
ihatemonkeys009
The grumpy tattooed barista is a little anti-social but he makes the best lattes ever! will be coming back again! four stars.
"A little?" you say aloud to yourself, "give me a break."
The review that follows under that is also highly popular.
ghostsarerealiswear2334_67
free wifi and they open early and don't close till late?! best study place ever! (please like my review!) five stars.
kentoforwork89
A nice and newly established restaurant under the Japanese name 'Fuga', the name is fitting for its elegant service and high quality coffee. They have a wide range on the menu and serve food too. The cafe is spacious, plenty of space to study or work and if you use electronics they have power sockets dotted around. Good prices for the service and highly reliable. I will be coming here again as it is not overwhelmingly busy or loud like some other places. I highly recommend. four and a half stars.
ilovesweetssooooooooooomuchhhgojo9838
tHE tattooed barisSta maybe be cold hoever his coffees are the warmest!!!!! xoxoxoxo peefect date location (soz for typos idid this fast on my phone so i coulget fre emochi) FIVE STARTS
You let out a sigh reading the reviews, it's a little cheesy but you get the point. Reading all 54 reviews you've come to find that a lot of people find the same tattooed barista annoying but miraculously all is forgotten once you've tried a coffee from him.
There isn't one totally bad review — maybe from an AI bot who says that the location is in a whole other city but other than that it's clear that this cafe is a new and upcoming contender as one of the best spots in the city.
And that doesn't sit right in your soul.
Taking this personally as someone who runs a company, you understand that if people were talking about your employees in this manner then they would be subject to being fired. You're confused on how this man is still employed even after fifty reviews, surely the owner must be reading them.
You sit in silence for a while as you contemplate.
Should you?
Or shouldn't you?
Hesitant, your fingers hover over your keyboard, testing out a sentence.
i tried this cafe as a new customer — no, no, too cliche, you backspace your sentence entirely.
Thinking for a moment, you reflect on what you want to say. You start typing slowly before it all flows within your fingertips, a mini paragraph forming on your screen. You're writing in the heat of the moment, out of pure frustration and embarrassment. Most people would be able to forgive and forget but well…unfortunately you're not most people.
anonymouscapybara45
this place is relatively new in this city and as a coffee lover i was extremely enthusiastic to try this place out. my high hopes for this cafe were quickly crushed once i was (not even greeted) but completely mistreated by the tattooed barista.
i did not like this service, no matter how good the quality of the coffee was.
i do not think a barista should be talking to customers like this. i felt severely unwelcomed and i am having second thoughts on returning to this place.
there's better and kinder staff in other cafes in the city who i will gladly give my money too.
1 out of 5 stars.
Sure, it's a little…Karen but you feel petty. Highlighting all the adverbs makes you think that your english teacher from high school would be proud. There's a small feeling of guilt in the pit of your stomach as it dawns on you that your review will be the first one star review the company has ever had.
But this is not a baseless review. You actually felt this way at the time. It's a little exaggerated but who cares, they don't know you and they never will because you're not stepping foot there ever again.
There's not much satisfaction in the world that you can get other than pressing post on your review.
***
An hour later you've moved on with your life. You've settled into your home, following your post-work routine and you're now sitting on your couch. Your phone lights up with a notification and your eyes land on the screen.
You get a notification from your gmail that someone has mentioned you in a reply and with your thumb clicking on the message your eyes slightly widen.
The owner has replied to your message.
And for the first time it seems because they haven't seemed to reply to all the other positive messages on the site.
You'd forgotten that this was an option for them, simply thinking that your review would just get the employee removed. Your eyes skim over the reply.
From the Owner of Fuga in reply to anonymouscapybara45
Hello valued customer,
we apologise that you have had this experience recently, it is never our intention to make our customers feel this way. Our company and brand relies majorly on the respect and communication with our customers which is always taught and trained to our employees. We apologise for the actions and behaviour of our barista and on behalf of the company we would like to invite you to have any item on our menu free of charge over the course of the week. We would like to give you a seven day voucher and invite you back to a better atmosphere of our cafe to show you truly how we treat our customers.
Please pop into our cafe at your convenience. We look forward to seeing you and we apologise again for your experience.
Kind regards,
Fuga Owner (Jin Itadori)
Your mind is baffled.
Free drinks…for a week? Because of your bad review?
Not even the other low starred reviews have had this level of response from the owner. You're the first one star review they've had and they haven't even responded maliciously. You can't pass up on this good of an opportunity to have free coffee for the next week? You could be saving a ridiculous amount of money.
You re-read the review a few times to make sure that it still seems real to your eyes.
Maybe it will be the last time that you'll see that barista again.
**
You try your luck the following day. You're a bit more hopeful walking into the coffee shop the next day. It's a little less busier than the previous day and the queue is a little shorter.
But most important of them all, you don't see that tattooed jerk around.
This time serving the till is the white haired figure you saw making the drinks the last time you arrived. Behind them works another person that you haven't seen before who has their back turned making orders.
Soon enough it's your turn to go up to the till.
"Hello." They greet and almost immediately you feel comfortable that you won't be shunned for simply being a customer at this cafe.
"Good morning," you greet back with a smile before explaining your situation. "This may be a bit awkward but uhm, I was the customer who wrote a review of this cafe and uh— the owner said I was given a voucher as some sort of compensation."
For a second you thought you were scammed or that the entire thing was a lie just to catch the poor customer who's written terrible reviews but you watch as the wave of recognition hits the barista.
Instead they nod and say, "one moment" before turning around to head to the back. You shift from one foot to the other, patiently waiting and in the meantime thinking of what you'd want to get as your first free drink.
Your smile soon drops once you see the figure that follows the person that you were speaking to at the till.
That tattooed bastard.
His eyes widen slightly at the sight of you before turning into a miserable frown, clearly he wasn't expecting you to be the customer who wrote the review but there's also something that tells you that he's not totally surprised.
The white haired barista makes their way back to you, "If you go over to Sukuna he can help you with your voucher."
Sukuna. Now you know his name. And now you know he's somehow still employed by this damn coffee shop.
You walk over with hesitation and you can't help but notice Sukuna's eyes watching you as you make your over to a quiet area.
"It was you." he says but there's no bite to his tone. It's merely a statement he's making but you don't miss the judgement in his eyes.
"I was being honest." you shrug, holding your head high. You have no regrets whatsoever, you were merely giving constructive feedback about an environment that felt hostile to you. About a certain someone who was hostile.
Sukuna leans in a little closer to you, one hand placed on the counter as he speaks to you. "Because of you and your stupid review I have to serve you free drinks for a week, which is coming out of my pay by the way."
"Maybe it'll teach you how to speak nicer to customers." you retort back.
You notice his hand turning into a tight fist, gripping the counter, clearly holding back on responding to you. With his other hand he slides over a piece of paper. "Here's your damn voucher and, no I didn't write it, so what do you want?"
You tilt your head a little at him.
Sukuna corrects himself and in a deadpan monotone he starts over. "Hello. Welcome to Fuga. What would you like today?"
A satisfied smile reaches your lips. "Much better. I would like an iced strawberry matcha with oat milk please."
"Regular or large?"
"Hmm since it's on the house, large please."
"It's not on the house…" he mutters.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"Hmmmmm."
Sukuna disappears, diving into the hustle and bustle of his other colleagues making your own personal drink. As he makes your drink you look over your voucher, Sukuna's written today's date already and the expiry date is set seven days from now.
Once again, your order doesn't take him long and you spot your green and pink drink in his large hands. Approaching he hands your drink over to you which you thank before taking a sip.
On your tongue, the grassy flavour is immediately sedated by the sweetness of the strawberry at the bottom. There's the perfect amount of ice and matcha in your drink for you to enjoy and it takes everything in you not to fall to your knees and praise Sukuna on how great he's made this drink.
"Not bad." you murmur, downplaying your enthusiasm. "Can I get another free drink?"
"One per day stupid."
"The voucher doesn't clarify that, it's handwritten."
"I don't care."
"Would you like me to write another poor review?"
Now this is what gets Sukuna clenching his jaw together. He takes a pause, calming himself down before speaking to you again. "No anonymouscapybara45 I wouldn't like that because you got me in a lot of shit for this."
You don't flinch when he mentions your username. Ah, so he's read the review then. You quip back, "Your boss fire you yet?"
"No," and there's a slight pout, "he's just annoying the shit out of me at the moment."
"Hmm right, if you make me an iced vanilla latte with oat milk to go I think I might just refrain from writing a bad review about you for today."
You watch as he clenches his jaw in frustration. "Just this once. For the rest of the days you get one drink only."
"And a sweet treat!" you chime in.
Sukuna pauses, mulling over your suggestion. He lets out a sigh.
"A free drink and a snack." He offers.
"Deal." You outstretch your free hand to shake on.
Sukuna looks at your hand in pure disgust like you've just offered to spit in his mouth. "Deal. Just don't make my job harder than it needs to be." he mutters.
"I don't think I can promise that." you reply and you watch in pure satisfaction as he walks away mumbling to himself.
thank you for reading!! i hope you enjoyed :) i won't be running a taglist for this mini series (pls it is mini) but ya comments and reblogs are appreciated!!
beefing with barista!sukuna who doesn't care about his job because he doesn't get paid enough and is rude to all his customers especially his new ones.
why is he still hired?
because he makes the best damn coffee in the city.
he's fast and efficient, he won't say good morning or ask you how your day was but he'll make the best vanilla latte you'll ever have.
the first time you tried this cafe you were incredibly intimidated.
you took too long to decide what you wanted, asked to see the difference between the large and regular and then changed your order halfway to oat milk just after sukuna typed it in the till.
you get on his damn last nerve and he makes it obvious. he pronounces your name wrong on purpose for collection and doesn't even smile.
the next time you return to the cafe, you come a little more prepared. you know what you want, the size and the type of milk. you say your order as fast as possible with no greetings in hopes of becoming one of his favourites.
that's until it all backfires.
"we're out of oat milk." sukuna announces with a deadpan tone.
"uhhhh..."
"hurry up we don't have all day."
"could i get a strawberry matcha latte then?"
"we're out."
"caramel?"
"finished."
"cappuccino."
"four fifty, tap your card and move over to collection."
you can feel the sweat build across your body just from the anxiety he gives you. he still pronounces your name wrong and he doesn't even look up at you when you ask where the sugars are.
୨୧ — Sukuna watched as you tended to the herbs just outside his temple, your movements carrying that same gentleness as always. You hummed softly while working, a melody that seemed to make even the weeds lean towards you. The swell of your stomach was prominent now, a visible reminder of how you had changed everything, and something in him always urged him to be closer to you- a possessiveness that had only grown over the past few months.
He hated it. But above all, he hated the way his curse energy would flow around the surrounding area, like a protective shroud meant solely for you… And he refused to acknowledge how his multiple eyes would track every subtle shift in your expression…
"Sukuna! Look at this one!" your voice held nothing but genuine delight as you held up a particularly vibrant herb.
"Tch. Still wasting your time with these worthless weeds?" he scoffed, but his eyes never left your form. He took notice of the way your fingers carefully caressed the delicate thing and the small smile that tugged at your lips, and it was only then did he realize that your hair had grown a little longer...
"One day," he heard you murmur, your voice carrying in the evening breeze, "you might need these."
The mere suggestion that he, the king of curses, might need such mundane remedies should have enraged him, and to a certain degree it did, but he was so transfixed on your fingers, the same fingers that always dared to trace his black markings, that his retort lacked it’s usual venom.
"Someone like me has no use for such worthless things." the mouth on his stomach grinned, "You are aware of the difference between us, aren't you? Or has that brat inside of you softened that brain of yours?"
His gaze flickered to your stomach, where his child grew stronger each day.
That’s when you turned to him with that damn smile, it was like freshly fallen snow, untouched and pure… And it always awakened two warring instincts within him. The first was to destroy you, to corrupt, and to taint that purity until nothing remained and you were left bloody in his arms… And then there was the second, the newer, more terrifying one that made him want to preserve it at all costs…
"Oh? No use for such worthless things?" you tilted your head playfully, reminding him of that first day in the forest where he met you, "Hmm~ Is that why you still wear my scarf? If you have no use for such worthless things, then I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I took it back."
The memory of how you had wrapped it around him had been burned into his memory... like a fucking curse. How you approached him in the forest while bodies lay scattered around him, your eyes full of concern rather than terror. He didn’t know at the time the men he slaughtered were after you- didn’t know that his fun little killing spree would leave him stuck with you like a thorn in a wound.
A thorn he couldn't be bothered with removing...
"You’re bleeding," you had said then, as if he were some ordinary injured traveler. Before he could slice that pretty head of yours clean off, you had already removed your scarf, standing on your tiptoes, tongue sticking out in concentration as you tended to the wound and wrapped it around his neck even though it would heal in moments…
His four arms hung beside him at your audacity, as you dared to care for the King of Curses.
"It’s not much," you had whispered, "but it should help keep the wound clean until it heals" then you had smiled- that same one you wore now.
So lost in the memory, Sukuna hadn’t even noticed you were now standing before him, reaching out towards him with the intent of tugging your scarf free from his body and he reacted. Faster than he should have been and snatched your hand away before you could even graze the fabric.
"Do. Not."
His eyes were narrowed, and his voice was low, a growl that echoed across the temple grounds, but you had become immune to the sound. His other hand unconsciously rose to touch the now worn fabric at his neck, it still carried traces of your scent after all this time.
"Watch yourself, woman. I could still slice that fragile neck of yours. Devour you where you stand. Don't be mistaken, you're not safe just because you're carrying my child."
"Mmhmm," you hummed, entirely unafraid as you leaned into him so that you could place a chaste kiss against his jawline, "Is that why you let me sleep in your bed? Why you allow only i to say your real name... And why you-"
"Be silent." he spat, and yet his grip on your hand loosened, allowing your fingers to slip through his and intertwine, "Insolent creature…" but his other hands were merciful as they settled on your waist.
"If you wanted to kill me, Sukuna, you would have done so a long time ago."
"You think too highly of yourself. You're a means to an end, a tool."
Your smile never wavered for a second, "Is that so? Then I must be a very special tool. I don't believe anyone else would get away with the things I do."
"Foolish little lamb." He let out a low grunt, pressing his forehead to yours in a gesture that had become as natural as breathing, "I will admit," his lips curled into a smirk as he pulled you flush against his body, "you've made the last few months a little less boring. But if I tire of your presence, I won't hesitate to kill you."
"Your foolish woman." You corrected, and with a soft chuckle, you pulled back slightly so that you could cup his face, "And you won’t kill me before the baby is born, right? That would be a shame."
Sukuna scowled, "Don't test me."
"Never." you promised sweetly, but he knew you’d continue to do so regardless.
The King of Curses would never admit it, but the thought of you dead- the thought of anyone daring to harm you or his child was enough to awaken a a whole new kind of bloodlust, unlike anything he had felt in centuries. He would paint the lands red with the blood of any who tried, would hang their entrails from the highest trees as a warning, would burn the world to ash before letting harm come to what was his.
sukuna knew he was fucked before he even stepped a single foot inside.
gritting his teeth as he leaned against the door to your apartment, shutting his eyes for a few seconds before he even stuck his key in the lock. well, tried to.
a smarter man would've accepted you changing the locks as a sign you didn't want to see him. but your favorite thing to call him was stupid, wasn't it?
grumbling as he dug around in his pockets for something he could use to pick the lock, giving up when he came up empty before he banged his fist against the door and growled through the thin wood, "open up."
"no."
sukuna didn't beg. but he was bartering, bending down to take a twenty out of his wallet and shove it underneath the door in a shoddy attempt at an apology. you snatched it from him before he could even finish sliding it through, scoffing at the gesture as he groaned and pulled out another twenty to push through next.
"still no," you muttered despite taking it too.
"fuckin' hell, woman, let me in," he snapped, thick and gravelly as he stood up to pound on the door again.
"woman?" you huffed back at him, and he briefly considered banging his head into the door to see what would break first. "you left my text on read to go to a fucking bar with gojo and you think you get to crawl back in my bed?"
"that asshole stole my phone," sukuna grunted. if he'd known you were waiting for him with warm food, he would've been back hours ago. had no clue you were even expecting him until he fished his phone out of gojo's pocket and saw your unfortunately not missed messages the white-haired douchebag had been hiding from him to get him to stay out longer. "did you have to change the goddamn locks?"
you didn't answer.
giving him the cold shoulder, probably folding your arms across your chest and pouting on the other side of the door as he sighed and knocked again.
his friends said he was whipped. his brother said you were both fucking crazy.
jin was probably right.
but still, there wasn't any other door he'd rather be acting like a goddamn fool in front of.
"I'm sorry," he grunted, no matter how sour apologies still tasted on his tongue. but the idea of you withholding something sweet from him later was enough for him to stuff down his pride and do it anyway. "won't let those pricks drag me out with them again."
the door cracked open.
just a sliver.
enough to shove his foot in - although he waited for you to slam it shut in an attempt to break his toes.
it didn't happen though, so he took it as a sign you might not want to murder him.
maybe.
"bet there was some girl there," you muttered, your back to him as you stomped towards the kitchen. his mouth twitched down into a faint smile, well aware he was probably just as toxic as you were if he thought your jealousy was hot instead of borderline ridiculous. "was she cute?"
"m'pretty preoccupied with all your personalities," sukuna muttered under his breath.
your face hardened into a scowl as you snapped back at him to glare, your hand reaching for something on the counter.
he expected you to throw the plate at him. toss the meal you made in his face.
not chuck the entire fucking air fryer at his head.
he ducked at the last second, the air fryer landing relatively unharmed at the couch while disappointment glittered in your eyes that you missed.
"do I have to fuck the attitude out of you?" he exhaled, dark eyes glittering as he resisted the temptation to smirk.
"only if you don't cum."
a/n: for my angel @yenayaps
reblogs + comments are always appreciated adore you all :3
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