The Right Time - Sukuna x Reader - Chp. 1
Summary: Your life was blissfully chaotic. Being a single mom and raising a daughter with a bigger attitude than yours was a challenge, but you love every second of it. You decided to move to the city to be closer to work. You’ve been at your new apartment for about three weeks now and everything has been great. Until, your annoyingly hot neighbor decided to open his mouth.
cw: female reader, modern au (no curses), 18+, enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, smut, crack, angst, Nobora is readers daughter, Choso and Yuji are Sukuna’s nephews, Toji is a present father in this, LOTS of family fluff, (more tags will be added)
chp warning: fluff, tension, angst?, crack, Sukuna is a beefy asshole, also kinda chaotic
a/n: hello!! this is my first fic i’ve ever posted ! i’ve been so nervous to post, but here I am! please be kind! but also please comment and let me know what you think! I need input! I appreciate all feedback. reposts are appreciated and I truly hope you enjoy! love, rosie <3
It’s not even eight o’clock, and it already feels like the world’s longest week. It’s always something, isn’t it? It started with the fire alarms blaring at two in the morning. This new apartment was supposed to be your haven, a fresh start. Well, that is what your “wonderful” landlord told you.
Instead, you found yourself wrestling with the outdated, screeching fire alarm. There you were, at two in the goddamn morning, beating the alarm with a broom, praying it wouldn’t wake up the entire building. Nobora watched, half-asleep, as you battled the infernal noise, her small form silhouetted in the doorway, clutching her dragon Squishmallow for comfort. She barely even reacts to the loud crash of the alarm falling to the ground. The shattered plastic does not even phase you either. You simply shrug, throw the broom down, and pick up Nobora to put her back to sleep.
You finally got her back to bed just before three. It’s fine, maybe I can still get some sleep. You lay your head down on the pillow, just starting to drift off when — is that moaning? You freeze in realization that the neighbors were in fact getting it on. These are also the neighbors you have yet to meet because moving has kept you so busy. You wanted to have a baking night with Nobora and bring them some cookies, now it will be just a little awkward, well for you anyway.
Their bedroom must be right next door because you could hear every detail. The walls seemed paper-thin, vibrating with their animalistic moans, leaving you no choice but to stare at the ceiling, hoping it would end soon. You felt a pang of envy mixed with embarrassment, your cheeks flushing in the dark. It was as if their moans were mocking your solitary existence.
“Oh fuck, yes, baby,” came the muffled yells through the wall.
“Dirty fucking bitch — take it.”
You sighed and shoved a pillow over your head, trying to muffle the sounds. I wish I was getting dicked down. You hadn't been with anyone since Nobora's father, too consumed with work and motherhood to even entertain the idea.
Hours ticked by with the soundtrack of someone else's late-night porno party echoing in your ears. You must have dozed off around four or five because you woke up at six, bleary-eyed and grumpy, unfortunately, ready to start your day. You always wake up an hour before Nobora. You’ve trained your mind to wake up no matter what. It's a precious, peaceful time. Just you, a shower, and some coffee to brace yourself for the chaos of single motherhood. It was a ritual, a grounding moment before the world demanded everything from you.
Dragging yourself out of bed, you shuffled to the kitchen, started a pot of coffee, and headed straight for the shower. But today, even the water conspired against you. It was lukewarm for about thirty seconds before turning ice cold. You rolled your eyes, sighed again, and let the frigid water wake you up. It was a cruel reality check, a reminder that not everything was within your control. The icy blast shocked you awake, but instead of feeling refreshed, you were simply aware of everything and still very fucking tired. You lethargically wash your body and hair, fully used to the freezing temperature.
Now wide awake you turn off the shower and step out shivering. Muscle memory has you reaching for a towel hanging on the rack. Instead of grabbing a plush soft towel, your knuckles hit the wall. With a frown adorning your face, you scan the bathroom for another towel. To no surprise, there isn't one in sight. Of course. I never finished the laundry. So, you tiptoed into the hallway, freezing and dripping wet. Another groan escaped your lips as you made your way to the laundry room.
Passing by the kitchen, the rich, inviting aroma of fresh coffee filled the air. A small comfort in a morning of mishaps. Yet, as you entered the kitchen, you found yourself sprawled on the floor, your head throbbing from the hard linoleum. The culprit? Water from your shower pools on the tiles. Slipped and fell hard, right on your ass (and head).
Sitting up, you gingerly touched the back of your head, wincing at the dull ache from the linoleum’s unforgiving surface. The jolt of the fall had shaken you, and as you surveyed the chaos around you, a wave of frustration washed over you. The kitchen was a battlefield, and you were its weary soldier.
The hot liquid-!Wait. Hot? The damn Coffee. The pot hadn’t been placed properly, and now it was everywhere, seeping under appliances and decorating the counter in erratic splatters. It was as if the universe had conspired against you, testing your patience with every spilled drop. The laugh that leaves your body was loud, it was a pure reaction to the shit day you are having so far. Thank god Nobara is a heavy sleeper.
You sighed deeply, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment, and headed to the laundry room to retrieve a stack of towels. You snatch some towels from the still unfolded pile of laundry and head back to the mess. Wrapped in towels you try and clean the mess that was the kitchen moving with deliberate care.
As you wiped the counters, you couldn’t help but think of how once, in another life, you might have found this situation amusing — a fun story to share over drinks with friends. But now, it was another chore, another hurdle in a day that seemed determined to test your limits. You were always doing something, always busy, never having time for anyone but work and Nobora.
The mom’s guilt engulfs you as you think such a thing. Nobora is your girl, you’d do anything for her. She isn’t a bad kid at all, she’s almost perfect actually. You’re just burnt out from repetition. It’s all becoming too much. You need to find something to shake up your life, or you might explode over the next coffee spill.
With the kitchen finally tamed, you started another pot of coffee, meticulously ensuring the pot was secure. Three double-takes later, you finally moved on. The comforting aroma of brewing coffee filled the air and you took a moment to breathe it in. With a deep breath you finally exit the kitchen and with urgency walk down the hall to go change.
The messy bed you totally ignored to make is calling you back to it. Oh how you wish you could start this day over. But, that’s not how life works unfortunately. Searching for a decent outfit in your closet, you toss them onto the bad and quickly dry your hair and put on some makeup. The goal is to look somewhat presentable before you tackle the rest of this long day.
Dressed in a white turtleneck, black blazer, and matching pants, accented by gold earrings and a watch, you felt a sense of composure return. Catching your reflection in the hallway mirror, you acknowledged the woman staring back with a small smile.
You step back into the kitchen with a quick glance at the clock: 6:40. Not too bad, considering the coffee debacle. With a fresh pot brewed and your daily agenda meticulously filled, you savored a sip from your favorite mug, feeling the familiar rhythm of your routine reassert itself. This routine was your anchor, a vital structure in the whirlwind of motherhood and a demanding career as head librarian.
Nobora, thankfully, was a dream child, attending an early-start preschool conveniently located near the library, a perk courtesy of her father's connections. The usual schedule: drop-off at 7:55, arrival at the library by 8:15. That gives you just enough time to prepare for the day before doors open at 9. Every task was strategically planned. Although, you’ve learned to leave room open for chaos.
The library was your second home, a sanctuary that healed you in ways you couldn’t describe. As head librarian at the city’s main library, you were doing what you loved, and Nobora thought you were some kind of book fairy, bringing her new tales to explore every night.
You knew every corner, every hidden nook where sunlight filtered through tall windows, creating perfect reading spots. The children's section was your pride and joy, a magical realm you'd cultivated with careful attention. Colorful bean bags, twinkling fairy lights, and hand-painted murals transformed the space into something extraordinary. You'd spent countless weekends perched on ladders, brush in hand, bringing storybook characters to life on the walls while Nobora "supervised" from below, offering creative direction with the confidence only a child could muster.
Your colleagues often joked that you had a sixth sense for matching readers with their perfect books. It wasn't magic, though – just years of careful observation and a deep understanding of how stories could heal, inspire, and transform. You kept a mental catalog of every patron's preferences, their reading journey, their emotional needs.
As you sipped your coffee you read the daily news on your phone. Your eyes shift up to the doorway as you heard soft footsteps. You smirked, turning to greet your daughter. “Good morning, baby,” you smiled as Nobora entered the kitchen, clutching her dragon Squishmallow. Her hair was a messy halo around her face, eyes were still heavy with sleep.
“Hi, Mommy,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes. Her presence was warm and melted every stressor away. Thinking of how used you are with her in your life makes you eternally grateful. She is your motivation, what makes everything worth it.
You kissed her head, lifted her into her booster seat, and adjusted the strap. “Eggs or cereal?” you asked, knowing her answer before she even spoke.
“Cookies ‘n Crunch,” she replied, yawning. You nodded, grabbing her favorite princess-themed bowl and spoon, and pouring cereal and milk with care. Her world was simple, unburdened by adult worries, and you envied her innocence. You watched as she ate, her small hands clutching the spoon with determination, and you felt a surge of love so strong it took your breath away.
"Want some orange juice?" you asked, already reaching for her favorite cup – the one with little dragons that changed color when filled with cold liquid. Her eyes lit up as she nodded, momentarily forgetting her cereal to watch the purple dragons turn blue.
"Mommy, look! They're changing again!" she exclaimed, her voice still scratchy with sleep but filled with wonder. These small moments of magic, watching her delight in something as simple as color-changing cups made everything worthwhile. You settled into the chair beside her, sipping your coffee while she alternated between spoonfuls of cereal and careful sips of juice. Her little feet swung back and forth, occasionally bumping against the chair legs in a gentle rhythm. The morning light streaming through the kitchen window caught the gold flecks in her pretty eyes – eyes just like yours – and you found yourself mesmerized by how much she'd grown.
"I'm gonna get your backpack ready, 'kay?" You ask as you stand up from the kitchen table and begin to walk to her room. You hear a muffled "kay" as she shovels more cereal in her mouth. You enter her mess of a room that you will have to clean later and grab her bright blue glittery backpack with two Tamagotchis hooked to one zipper and a gaming controller keychain hooked to the other. You're sure to grab her notebook, pencil bag, hat, and extra clothes and shove them into the back.
Your fingers brush against a crumpled drawing from yesterday, and you carefully smooth it out. It’s a crayon masterpiece of you and her at the library, surrounded by what looks like floating books with wings. You smile, tucking it back inside before zipping everything up.
Returning to the kitchen, you set her backpack beside your tote bag, already packed the night before. You hummed in satisfaction, feeling the day improve. Nobora, your sweet child, brightened even the dreariest mornings. Her presence was a reminder of life's beauty, the reason you pushed through the exhaustion. You watched her, a small smile playing on your lips as she finished her breakfast, her face lighting up with a mischievous grin.
“Momma, I’m finished,” Nobora announced, smiling as she devoured the last of her cereal. You helped her out of the seat, instructing her to pick a sweater from her room. Letting her choose her own outfits was a new routine, fostering her independence, though you often had to fix the socks. Watching her grow, witnessing her small victories, was your greatest joy.
You marveled at how quickly she was becoming her own person, her personality shining through in everything she did. As she picked out her clothes you rinsed off her dirty dishes along with your empty coffee cup and set them in the sink to be put in the dishwasher later.
She returned in a red sweater with a bow at the collar and black jeans, handing you her Converse to tie. Her socks matched this time — bright yellow but matching nonetheless. The sight made you smile; just last week, she'd insisted on wearing one polka dot sock and one striped one, declaring it "fashion." You'd let her, of course, because sometimes the best parenting was knowing when to let go.
"Hair clip or tie?" you asked as she followed you to the bathroom, her little feet padding softly on the floor. The morning routine was a dance you both knew by heart, each step familiar yet somehow special every time.
"Clip, please," she says as you lift her to sit on the bathroom sink. You style her hair, securing sparkly black clips on either side. Your fingers move with practiced ease through her hair, so much like your own. "Oh, absolutely gorgeous," you say to her and help her off the sink, placing her back down on the ground. She giggles and smiles brightly at your compliment, running down the hallway. "Alright, let's get going," you call, helping her into her coat.
"Toji is picking you up tonight with Megumi, okay?" Nobora nods as you open the door. She immediately makes a U-turn and darts back to her room, grabbing her Gameboy (it was once yours, once upon a time).
"I wanna play on the way to school." Her enthusiasm is contagious. You roll your eyes, chuckling. “Alright, come on.”
As you open the door, your neighbor’s door flew open. A boy with pink hair bolted out, followed by another boy with brown hair, slightly longer. Their playful shouts echoed down the hallway. You paused for a moment, watching them, a small smile on your lips as they reminded you of your Nobora.
“Yuji, don’t forget your lunchbox,” the older boy called, his voice a mix of authority and warmth. Your eyes widened. “Shit! Her lunch,” you muttered, rushing back inside to grab the bento box from the fridge. You let out a deep breath holding the bento box to your chest and did a quick mental checklist.
Phone. Wallet. Keys. Bag. Lunch. Nobora.
Nodding, you headed back out, only to hear Nobora’s screaming, “That’s mine!”
“I just wanna see what level your Charizard is,” Yuji replied, pulling at Nobora’s Gameboy. You sighed, stepping forward to intervene, but your neighbor emerged, tall and imposing, with tattoos everywhere you could see (even his face), gauges, and hair matching Yuji’s. His presence was commanding. You found yourself momentarily distracted by his presence, his aura both intimidating and oddly captivating.
"No! I just got him to level 45 and he's special! Let go!" Nobora's voice rose higher, her fingers tightly wrapped around her precious game. The battle music from Pokémon could still be heard faintly from the device's speakers.
"It took me forever to train him! Mommy helped me!" Nobora's eyes were starting to tear up, her protection of her prized Pokémon becoming more desperate. You and the handsome stranger both let out a sigh at the same time. He steps over to Yuji and bends down. The older boy is standing to the side staring annoyingly at the younger one.
"Yuji, let go of the damn game. We gotta go," the man ordered, his deep voice and kinda terrifying.
"But Uncle Sukuna, I just want to—" Yuji started to protest.
Yuji huffed, releasing the Gameboy with more force than necessary, sending Nobora tumbling backward. The device flew through the air in slow motion, a perfect arc of impending disaster.
Your heart stopped as you watched it fall, helpless to prevent what was coming. The sound of plastic meeting tile echoed through the hallway like a gunshot, followed by the distinct crack of something breaking inside. The Pokémon battle music cut off abruptly, leaving a deafening silence in its wake.
Time seemed frozen as everyone stared at the broken device on the floor, the magnitude of what just happened sinking in. You could see Nobora's lower lip starting to quiver, her eyes filling with fresh tears as she stared at her beloved game system – the one that had been your constant companion through high school, the one you'd lovingly passed down to her, the one that held all her carefully trained Pokémon.
You quickly collected Nobora, who was now crying, and picked up the broken Gameboy. “It’s okay, baby. Maybe I can get you a new one,” you soothed, rubbing her back. You felt a pang of guilt, wishing you could shield her from every hurt and disappointment. Yuji and the other boy bowed their heads, their expressions a mix of contrition and curiosity.
"I'm so sorry," the older one said, his voice sincere. His eyes darted between you and Nobora, genuine remorse written across his features.
You forced a smile, locking your door with slightly trembling hands. "Oh, it's okay. Accidents happen." But Nobora was not appeased, her tears flowing freely as she buried her face in your neck. You hugged her tightly, whispering reassurances, feeling her small body shake with sobs against you.
The man beside you eyed you up and down. You slipped the broken Gameboy into your tote and grabbed your car keys, trying to appear unfazed as the realization hit you like a truck. He was the one you'd heard last night, the source of those passionate sounds that had kept you awake.
His gaze was intense, but you were already turning away, checking your watch with growing anxiety. You were running late, and between the broken Gameboy, Nobora's tears, and this uncomfortable revelation about your neighbor's nocturnal activities, you just needed to get out of there. The sooner you could escape this hallway and its impossibly attractive but clearly complicated new neighbor, the better.
"Please, miss! I'm so sorry!" Yuji pleaded, his pink hair falling into his eyes as he bowed repeatedly. You sighed, turning back to the boy, your heart softening at his genuine distress. Before you could respond, the man groaned, "Yuji, she said it was fine, chill." His tone was exasperated but not unkind. The way he looked at his nephew spoke volumes about the care hidden behind that intimidating facade.
Yuji wiped his eyes and ran to the man, clutching at his uncle's shirt like an anchor. The other boy was standing beside him rubbing his arm to try and comfort him. You walk over and bend down to be on his level, Nobora sniffling in your arms. Her tears were subsiding, curiosity beginning to peek through her sadness.
"I'll tell you what, since we're neighbors, you can make it up to us." You smiled, and the boys looked at you, confused. Nobora perked up, listening intently, her grip on your neck loosening slightly. "How about you boys come over and play with Nobora one day, to make up for her game." The offer was simple, a gesture of peace in the morning's storm. You knew Nobora could use some friends in the building, and despite the rough start, these boys seemed sweet enough.
The tall man rolled his eyes, but the boys grinned widely, their faces lighting up like Christmas trees. "Yes, please!" they chorused, bouncing on their toes with excitement. Their enthusiasm was infectious. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a small flicker of hope amidst the chaos. Maybe something good could come from this disaster of a morning after all.
The man eyed you again, smirking. You gave a half-hearted smile, quickly making your way down the stairs to your car. You were behind schedule, thanks to the forgotten lunchbox and the Gameboy incident.
After strapping Nobora into her car seat, you handed her an applesauce pouch, her comfort snack for rough mornings. Her sniffles subsided as traffic cooperated on the way to school, the gentle hum of the engine and morning radio filling the silence. It has felt like the longest day you have ever lived, and work hasn’t even started yet.
You pull into Nobora's school and park, you peek at the clock on your phone and to your surprise, you're right on time. The morning chaos hadn't derailed your schedule after all. You unbuckle Nobora, and wipe her face with a wet wipe, gentle strokes removing the traces of tears. Her eyes are still puffy, but at least she's stopped crying.
"I'll get you a new Gameboy, okay, honey?" you promised as you held her hand, crossing to the school. The morning sun cast long shadows across the playground, where early arrivals were already running and laughing. Her nod was small, her expression pensive as she clutched your hand tightly.
You considered calling out of work, but no, she'd be fine. She was tough, just like you. She'd likely forget the whole ordeal by the time she got home, distracted by whatever adventure she'd find with Megumi during the day. The thought was a comfort.
Inside, you approached her classroom. "Good morning, lovely ladies," greeted her teacher, Kento Nanami, with a smile. He was one of the kindest people you'd ever met, always patient with the preschoolers and offering his help whenever needed. His presence was calming and alluring, too bad he's engaged.
His blonde hair was perfectly styled as always, his wire-rimmed glasses perched precisely on his nose. The way he managed to look both professional and approachable in his crisp button-down and neat slacks was a daily miracle, especially considering he spent his days surrounded by paint, glue, and the general chaos of preschoolers. You'd seen him handle tantrums with the same grace he used to teach ABCs, never losing his composure or that gentle smile that made all the moms (and a few dads) swoon.
Nobora mustered a small smile and entered the classroom. You watched her join her classmates, grateful for the safe haven her school provided. Despite her puffy eyes and earlier tears, she was already gravitating toward the reading corner. Kento and you watch her for a few more moments before he turns his attention to you.
"Rough morning?" Kento asked, his eyes full of understanding. His voice was gentle, a reminder that you weren't alone in your struggles. He had this way of making everyone feel seen.
"Oh yeah." You rolled your eyes, pulling the broken Gameboy from your tote. The device looked even more pathetic under the fluorescent lights of the hallway.
"How did that happen?" he queried, examining the device with a gentle curiosity. His fingers traced the crack in the screen as you let out another sigh and chuckled.
"Well, there was this little—" you began, interrupted by small hands tugging your leg. You looked down to see Megumi, Toji's son, clinging to you. His dark hair was slightly messy, just like his father's, and his eyes held their usual stoic expression.
"Oh, there's my favorite boy!" You bent down, kissing his cheek. He rolled his eyes in that dramatic way only children can master, but you caught his small smile as he headed into the classroom. The way he tried to maintain his aloof demeanor while secretly enjoying the attention was so quintessentially Megumi. You turned to continue your conversation with Kento, but Toji appeared, flicking your forehead playfully, his tall frame casting a shadow over you.
"Ah—Toji, stop. Not in the mood," you protested, swatting his arm. He pouted, showcasing his lip scar in that way he knew made him look both dangerous and oddly charming. "Who pissed in your Cheerios?" He teased.
You scoffed as Kento glared at him. "Watch your mouth, Zenin," Kento said sternly, though you could see the hint of amusement in his eyes. You giggled, stepping aside to let a tired ooking mom pass with her twins.
"What?" Toji raised his hands in mock innocence. "I'm just asking our friend here why she looks ready to commit murder before nine in the morning." His grin was infectious, even as Kento shook his head disapprovingly.
"Some of us try to maintain a professional environment," Kento reminded him, adjusting his glasses with practiced patience.
"Some of us need to loosen up," Toji shot back, earning another stern look from the teacher.
Before this moment could be fueled by any more tension, you turn to Toji. "You can keep her until five tonight, right?" you asked, checking the time. 8:05. Ten minutes until work. You still needed to get to the library and set up for the senior book club that started at nine.
"Yeah, she can stay as long as she needs, pretty," Toji nodded, his casual use of the endearment as familiar as breathing. After all these years of friendship, his playful flirting had become just become normal.
You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "I owe you one, you know."
Toji grinned, that mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. "Oh, I know what you could—" He winced as you pinched his arm, cutting off whatever inappropriate suggestion he was about to make in front of the children. "Oi!" he exclaimed, rubbing the spot where you pinched him.
You laughed at his pain and checked the clock one more time. You turn and waved goodbye to both men. Nobora was playing with Megumi as you left, their laughter echoing down the hall. The men wave back and watch as your figure grows smaller as you inch closer to the exit, finally getting to go to work.
"She's gonna run herself ragged," Toji muttered as you walked away, his usual playful demeanor replaced with genuine concern. Kento nodded, adjusting his glasses with a heavy sigh. "She doesn't want help, I've tried." Toji bit his lip, staring off in the way he did when he was genuinely worried. Kento turned to greet another parent, their voices blending into the morning's symphony of children's laughter and parents' goodbyes.
You speed-walked down the hall, hoping to avoid further encounters. But as you approached the exit, a man and a little boy entered — your neighbors. Your stomach dropped, a familiar flutter of anxiety mixed with irritation rising in your chest. Not now, not another awkward moment with your hot, broody neighbor.
Yuji spotted you, his face lighting up with that pure childhood enthusiasm that made it impossible to stay angry. "Neighbor!!" he called, waving frantically as if you were across a football field rather than just a few feet away. You couldn't help but smile, bending down to greet him despite your rush to leave.
"Well, hello! Yuji, right?" He nodded eagerly, his pink hair bouncing with the movement.
"Do you go to school here?" the little boy asked you with the cutest smile. You let out a small chuckle at the innocent question.
The tall man scoffed, the sound dripping with condescension. "Obviously not. That little girl whose game you broke does." He says to Yuji, the harsh reminder making the boy's smile falter.
You felt a flicker of irritation at how unnecessarily cruel he was being to the child who was clearly still feeling guilty about the incident.
Ignoring his harsh tone, you focus back to Yuji, maintaining your warm smile. "Which class are you in, sweetheart?"
Yuji's eyes light up, previous guilt momentarily forgotten. "Mr. Nanami's class! It's my first day!" His enthusiasm was contagious, practically bouncing on his toes as he spoke.
"That's awesome! You'll love Mr. Nanami, he's one of the kindest teachers around," you assured him, your heart warming at his eagerness to make friends despite the morning's rocky start.
"Nobora’s in there too! I am sure she’ll be happy to see you," you smile and hope Nobora wont hold a grudge.
Sukuna clears his throat and nudges Yuji with his hand, "Better hurry brat, you're gonna be late." Yuji's eyes widen and he quickly says goodbye to you both, making sure to hug Sukuna before darting down the hallway.
You wave to Yuji and stand, smoothing your blazer in a nervous gesture.You both watch him run down the hall, Kento greeting him with that warm smile of his.
An awkward silence settles between you and Sukuna, heavy with unspoken words. You turned, locking eyes with him, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. You wanted to say something, anything, but words failed you. Instead, you smiled politely, starting to walk away. His gaze was steady, and intense, following your movement, and you could feel the weight of it on your back.
"Hey!" his deep voice stopped you. You turned back, trying to sound casual.
"Yeah?" You force a smile on your face.
"Sorry about my nephew. I can give you money to replace—" His offer was unexpected, his tone almost apologetic. You swallow thickly as you can tell this apology is hard for him to say.
"Oh, no, don't worry about it! That thing was old anyway. I had it since high school." You laughed, realizing you were rambling. His presence was both unsettling and oddly comforting. You flash him a warm, genuine smile this time, trying to show there is no harm in the situation.
He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. It was silent between you for a few seconds before he spoke again, "I'm Sukuna, by the way." He stares down at you with eyes that seem to be burning a a hole through your skin. That smirk isn’t helping either.
"Huh?" you replied, confused by his sudden shift in demeanor. The man who had been so harsh with Yuji moments ago was now attempting something almost like charm. It was jarring, like emotional whiplash.
"We're neighbors, right? And my nephew destroyed your daughter's prized possession, so I guess we're on a first-name basis now." He smirked, running a hand through his hair, his confidence palpable.
Your cheeks flushed pink. How did this stranger affect you so much? Was it his handsome face, his rippling muscles, or the way he looked at you like you were something special? Or maybe you’d just been deprived for too long.
Blinking away your thoughts, you quickly introduced yourself. “Right! Neighbors! Yeah, your... nephews can come over whenever they like! I’m still unpacking, but they’re welcome!” Your words were a bridge, an attempt to navigate the unfamiliar terrain between you.
You stretched out your hand, offering a friendly handshake. Sukuna's fingers wrapped around yours, warm and firm. Your breath hitches as you feel an unexpected jolt of electricity run through your body and your quick to pull your hand back.
You both walked toward the parking lot. “So, when did you move here?” he asked, eyes ahead, his tone casual.
“About three weeks ago. It’s closer to work and Nobora’s school,” you replied, staring at the ground, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves. His presence was both comforting and unsettling.
“Oh, so do you know Toji?” he asked, his tone shifting slightly with a hint of amusement.
Toji owned the apartment complex. He’d offered you a place to stay, insisting on a roomy two-bedroom with a laundry unit (he made sure to boast that up). You, him, and his late wife had been high school friends. After she passed, you supported each other in every way possible. He was your best friend, fiercely protective, and his son, Megumi, was like your second child.
“Oh, yeah, we go way back!” you said, nearing your car. Sukuna raised a brow, a smirk playing at his lips. The expression made your stomach twist with unease. You stopped in your tracks and turn right in front of him, your brows furrowed in confusion.
"What?" The word came out sharper than you intended, but you were too rattled by his scrutiny to care. Your fingers curled into your palm as you met his gaze, refusing to be intimidated by those burning crimson eyes. The way he was looking at you – like he knew something you didn't – made your skin prickle with irritation.
His silence stretched between you like a rubber band ready to snap, the weight of his unspoken judgment hanging in the air. You could feel your pulse quickening, a mix of anger and something else you didn't want to examine too closely simmering beneath your skin.
Sukuna bit his lip, shaking his head. "Nothing, just not surprised." His words dripped with judgment. You watched in disbelief as his entire demeanor shifted. The almost friendly neighbor from moments ago morphing into something darker, more predatory. His presence loomed over you like a storm cloud, that playful smirk twisting into something cruel that made your skin crawl. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees as his crimson eyes raked over you, calculating and cold.
You cocked your head to the side, squaring your shoulders despite the chill running down your spine. "I'm sorry?" Your voice was steel wrapped in silk, a warning dressed as politeness.
The familiar weight of judgment settled on your shoulders. You’d felt it before, seen it in the eyes of others who thought they knew your story. People always jumped to conclusions, their minds diving straight into the gutter. And here he was, this arrogant stranger, about to prove he was no different. The realization cut deeper than you wanted to admit, a reminder that no matter how hard you worked, some people would always see what they wanted to see.
His presence seemed to grow more imposing as he stepped closer, invading your space with deliberate intent. The parking lot suddenly felt too small, too intimate for this confrontation. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a mix of anger and something else you refused to acknowledge making your pulse race. The scent of his cologne – something expensive and woodsy – mingled with the morning air, making it harder to maintain your composure.
He turned to face you fully, his crimson eyes boring into yours. "You don't think you're the first woman Toji's given a sweet deal to?" The implication in his tone made your blood boil. "Man's got a type, and you fit it perfectly." His words hung in the air like poison, each syllable dripping with judgment and assumptions that made your skin crawl.
As a mother, you have taught your daughter to kill people with kindness, always turn the other cheek. And you try to live by the same rule, but that rule can go fuck itself right now. You've dealt with enough men who think they can read your whole life story in a single glance, who believe they know everything about you based on nothing but their own twisted assumptions.
You have been holding it together all morning. Ever since those stupid fucking smoke alarms. Now thanks to this dickhead, you have the perfect moment to take all that built up stress on him.
You laughed, a bitter sound that echoed through the parking lot, before stepping closer until you were mere inches from him. The woodsy scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, but instead of making you weak in the knees like before, it only fueled your rage.
"Even if I was fucking Toji, which is none of your business. How fucking dare you." Your voice was low, dangerous, each word precise and sharp as a blade. The morning sun caught the gold flecks in your eyes, making them flash with fury.
Sukuna's eyes widened slightly, that infuriating smirk faltering as he realized he'd severely miscalculated. You weren't backing down. Instead, you were a force of nature, unleashed and unafraid.
Your finger jabbed into his chest, punctuating each word. "How fucking dare you assume I need anyone, especially a man, to help me live? You're a piece of shit, and to think I actually thought you were hot." The admission slipped out before you could stop it, but you were too angry to care.
Sukuna was stunned and, annoyingly, a bit turned on. No one had ever spoken to him like that without getting their ass kicked. The way your eyes flashed with fury, how you'd stepped right into his space without an ounce of fear. It stirred something primal in him. Your finger jabbing into his chest had left a phantom burn, and the admission that you'd found him attractive only made it worse. He couldn't decide if he wanted to shut you up or hear you yell at him some more.
You were trying hard not to explode from anger. Instead, you laughed again, the sound sharp and bitter, turning to leave.
"And if I hear your limp-dick ass fucking some bitch again, I'll go to Toji myself and have you kicked out," you added, slamming your car door as you enter it with enough force to make the vehicle shake. The sound echoed through the parking lot like a gunshot.
Sukuna stood there, shocked, his crimson eyes fixed on your retreating car. For once, that infuriating smirk was nowhere to be seen, replaced by an expression of genuine surprise. Your words had struck deeper than he'd expected, leaving him with an unfamiliar feeling in his chest
You flipped him off for good measure and sped away, tires squealing against the asphalt. What a fucking morning. Your body was vibrating with anger, hands trembling slightly on the steering wheel as your mind replayed the encounter in an endless loop.
The audacity of that man, standing there with his stupid attractive face and his baseless accusations. Who the fuck does that guy think he is? He doesn't know you, doesn't know the years of friendship and loss that bind you and Toji together. He has no right to even assume anything about you, to reduce your entire life to some cheap cliché.
Once you arrived at work, you were flustered and running on pure adrenaline. The familiar sounds and smells of the library usually brought you peace, but today it was just another stop in your hurricane of a morning. You practically sprinted inside, your heels clicking rapidly against the marble floor.
"Morning, boss!" Ino called from behind the returns cart. "Coffee's fresh in the break—" He paused, taking in your expression. "Everything okay?"
"Fine," you managed, though your tone suggested otherwise. "Senior book club setup?"
"I put out some chairs, but—"
The sheer force of your anger fueled you like rocket fuel. You threw yourself into the preparations, arranging chairs with military precision, setting out water pitchers and coffee urns with such efficiency that even Mrs. Tanaka, arriving early with her famous lemon squares, raised an eyebrow.
"My dear," she said, placing a gentle hand on your arm as you aggressively straightened a stack of discussion guides, "Whatever he did, he's not worth the energy."
You froze, wondering if your morning's drama was that obvious. Mrs. Tanaka just smiled, her eyes twinkling with knowing wisdom. "When you get to be my age, you can spot man trouble from a mile away. Now, have a lemon square." She patted your hand and continued to put out her delicious treats she crafted.
The simple kindness in her voice almost broke you. Almost. Instead, you took a deep breath, accepted the offered treat, and managed a genuine smile. There would be time later to process the morning's chaos.
You looked at the clocked up above and saw it was finally time to open. Ino quickly unlocks the main doors and people start to slowly shuffle in. The first book club members were taking their seats now, their cheerful morning chatter filling the room.
You squared your shoulders, pushing thoughts of crimson eyes and woodsy cologne to the back of your mind. You had a job to do, a daughter to raise, a life to live. You didn't need the drama that clearly came with Sukuna's presence.
With one last sigh you force a smile on your face and try to push the stress aside.
summary/notes: AHHHH!! hi it’s me again! I truly hope you enjoyed this! chapter two is ready to be read through one final time and then it will be published! I wanted this chapter to kinda introduce the chaos that will ensue with these two! also, had to include my other husbands, Toji and Kento. again, please let me know how you felt! I truly love writing this story. and I hope you enjoyed! thanks <3