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Frat!sukuna x soft!reader

synopsis: Sukuna doesn’t fall for people,he wins them, then gets bored. Frat king, reckless, used to easy victories, he notices you because you’re different,too quiet, too soft, too unaware of how pretty you actually are. So he turns it into a game,slipping into your days, earning your trust, getting you comfortable… until getting you is easy. And when he finally does, he leaves like he always does.

Only this time,you don’t chase. You don’t fight. You just… disappear,And for the first time, Sukuna realizes—he’s not done with you.Even if you’re done with him.

So will he learn to live with it… or do whatever it takes to make it right?

Wc: 12.2k!!

warnings: emotional confrontation, misunderstandings, mutual yearning, kissing in the rain, sukuna is DESPERATE, grovelling, emotional intimacy, soft happy ending

Chap 1 ch2 ch3

After the last time you spoke to him, things didn’t break the way you expected them to.

Nothing around you changed. Classes went on, people talked the same way, the campus stayed just as loud and careless as it had always been. There was no visible change, no moment where everything slowed down to acknowledge what had happened. If anything, the world felt almost indifferent to it.

And that made it easier.

You went back to your routine without interruption. You reached class on time, sat where you always did, kept your focus where it needed to be. No one stopped you in the hallway anymore. No one stepped into your space like it belonged to them. You didn’t have to anticipate anything-no unexpected conversations, no presence you had to prepare yourself for.

It was simpler like this.

You didn’t have to think about him.At least, not intentionally.

There were moments that slipped through anyway.

They were small enough to ignore if you wanted to. A pause before leaving a classroom, like you were waiting for something without realizing it. A glance toward a corridor that didn’t need your attention. The faint, unnecessary awareness of absence,something missing that you refused to define.

You noticed it once.Then again.After that, you made sure you didn’t because there was no reason to.

The first time you saw him again, it wasn’t because you were looking for him.

You were just walking between classes, focused on getting through before it filled up, when your gaze lifted just enough to register movement on the other side. Recognition settled before you could stop it.

Sukuna.

He looked exactly the same.

Same posture. Same presence, people moved around him like he pulled attention without trying. There was nothing about the scene that stood out, nothing that should have made you pause.

And yet,you did.

Someone was talking to him. Laughing, standing too close, brushing against his arm like it was natural. It was the kind of thing you would have ignored without thinking before.

You should have.Instead, your steps slowed just slightly.

He didn’t lean in.Didn’t respond the way you expected.

There was no shift in him, no engagement that pulled him closer into whatever was happening.

He just stepped back,it was small and barely noticeable to anyone else,

But you saw it.

Your gaze lingered a second longer than it should have before you looked away and kept walking.

It didn’t matter.You told yourself that immediately.And for the most part,you believed it.

On the other hand,for him,

He sees you before anything else registers.

It’s immediate. The second you step into view, his attention shifts without asking him first, like it’s already decided where it belongs.

He doesn’t move ,that’s the only difference.

Before, he would’ve crossed the distance without thinking. Would’ve stepped into your path, said something just to get your attention, just to see how you’d react. It used to be easy,instinctive in a way he never questioned.

Now, he stays where he is.Not because he doesn’t want to move.That part hasn’t changed.

The instinct is still there. His body reacts the same way it always has,the pull to close the distance, to step into your space before the moment passes, before you’re out of reach.

It hits just as fast.Just as strong.

He just doesn’t act on it and….it’s because of him that he can’t.

His jaw tightens slightly, gaze fixed on you longer than it should be.He tells himself it’s nothing,that this is how it should be now.

No interruptions. No stepping into something he already ruined. No pretending it can go back to what it was.

It should have been simple.It isn’t.

Because now that he’s not moving toward you, he notices everything else instead.

The way you walk past without looking at him. The way your attention doesn’t move, not even for a second. The way there’s no hesitation in your steps, no awareness of him anywhere near you.

Like he’s just—another person.

That is harder to accept than he expects.

Someone beside him says something,he doesn’t catch it.A girl laughs, closer than necessary, her hand brushing his arm like it’s nothing.He doesn’t react or lean in like he would have.He just steps back ,subtly, it comes to him naturally.

His attention is still on you.For a second, he thinks about it.

Moving. Calling out to you. Stopping you before you disappear into the crowd like another face.

The thought settles in his chest, sharp enough to make him shift forward without realizing it.

Then,he stops, he knows its not like before.

So he stays where he is and watches you walk past,and doesn’t follow.

To him,that restraint doesn’t feel like control.It feels like losing something,and not being able to do anything about it.

—-

Days pass as usual,

The routine doesn’t break.

It holds in place, steady enough, You move through your days the same way you always have, lecture, notes, the quiet discipline of keeping your focus where it belongs. It’s controlled. Measured. Exactly what you wanted.

And still something keeps slipping,Not enough to disrupt anything.Just enough to be felt.

You notice it in the middle of things. When your pen pauses longer than it should, when your thoughts drift somewhere you didn’t send them, when your attention shifts before you can catch it.

It doesn’t stay long enough to take over,But it happens.

You don’t look for him.You make sure of that.

But your awareness shifts anyway.

A door opening.Footsteps slowing.

Someone taking a seat behind you,and your body registers it before your mind does.

You don’t always turn.But sometimes,you already know.

It gets harder to ignore than it should be.

You don’t let it settle.You don’t give it space to become anything more than a passing thought.

Still,it lingers just long enough to leave something behind.

A quiet, persistent awareness that doesn’t belong,but refuses to leave.

For sukuna,It stops being unintentional. That’s when it gets worse.

At first, it’s easy to dismiss.

Same classes. Same schedule. Same places he would’ve been in anyway. There’s nothing strange about ending up in the same room, nothing that needs explanation.

But then,he starts adjusting.

Not enough for anyone else to notice or make it obvious.Just enough for Him to know

He gets there earlier.Not by much.But enough that he’s already seated when you walk in.

He tells himself it’s nothing.That it doesn’t mean anything.

And still he waits, Although its not something that he’d admit.

But the moment the door opens—

his attention locks.Every time.

He watches you walk in.Watches the way you move without hesitation, like nothing around you matters enough to interrupt you.

And something in him tightens feeling so sharp.Like it’s been building all day just for that moment.

He doesn’t move toward you.But he doesn’t stay away either.The distance changes.

A seat closer than before.Then another.Not beside you yet.

But close enough that he doesn’t have to look for you anymore.Close enough that if you look up,

you’ll find him-

And you do, more and more each time.Enough that it stops feeling like coincidence.

The first time your eyes meet—

he doesn’t react.He doesn’t smirk or say anything.Doesn’t turn it into something lighter than it is.

He just-holds it.

And that’s where it goes wrong.Because he doesn’t want to look away.

Atleast immediately, because it finally feels like there’s something there , that it hasn’t completely disappeared.

Even if it’s just a second.Even if it’s nothing more than this.

You look away first. of course you always do.But it’s enough.More than enough, Because,that moment.That look.

That brief, unguarded awareness that slips through before you shut it down again.It stays with him longer than it should. Long enough to follow him out of the room,to settle somewhere he can’t ignore.

It makes everything else feel less.He notices it everywhere.

The conversations that don’t hold.The people who expect something from him that he can’t seem to give the same way anymore.The way he steps back without thinking, like his body’s already decided it’s not worth it.

The problem is not them, its you.

And the way everything else falls short of something he didn’t even realize he was holding onto.

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair, irritation settling in where something else is trying to take shape.

It doesn’t make sense,shouldn’t matter.And yet he’s here earlier.Sitting closer.

Watching you like he’s waiting for something he doesn’t know how to ask for.

That’s not something he’s used to or something he knows how to handle.But it doesn’t stop,Nothing about it does.

——

The lecture ends in the usual way,chairs scraping back, voices rising, people already halfway into their next conversation before they’ve even left their seats.

You close your notebook and gather your things, taking your time the way you always do, to avoid getting caught in the rush.

When you step into the aisle, you expect it to be clear.

It isn’t.

He’s there.

Standing in the way , not really blocking you or…Not trying to.

But he’s close enough that you have to acknowledge him.

For a second, you think he’ll step aside but he doesn’t.

You glance up and he’s already looking at you.There’s something different in it.

The usual sharpness is nowhere to be seen, that easy, unreadable confidence he used to wear like it cost him nothing, also not there.

This has a hold in it.

Like he’s been standing there longer than he should have, something he decided to do.

Your grip tightens slightly around your bag.

You wait.So does he.

Then—

“…You’ve been leaving early.”

It’s not what you expect.

His voice is lower than usual. Doesn’t sound careless or thrown out just to fill space.Its Measured.

You blink, caught off guard for half a second.

“I haven’t.”

He nods once, like he’s already thought that through.

“Earlier than before.”

There’s no accusation in it.No edge.Just quiet observation.

And the fact that he noticed at all lands heavier than it should.

You shift your weight slightly, eyes flickering away before settling back on him.

“I’ve always left like this.”

A small pause.

“Maybe you weren’t paying attention before.”It’s quiet.But it lands.

He doesn’t react the way he used to.No pushback.

Instead—his gaze drops briefly, like he’s considering it.

Like he knows it’s true.

“…Yeah,” he says after a moment.

It’s softer than you expect.

For some reason that unsettles you more than anything else.

The silence stretches again, but it’s not empty.

There’s something in it now. Something held too tightly, like it might slip if either of you moves too fast.

He shifts slightly, not stepping closer,but not giving you space either. Like he hasn’t decided which one he’s supposed to do.

“I—”

He stops.Your attention sharpens. Because him hesitating? Is new.

He tries again, slower this time.

“…I didn’t come last week.”

You nod once.

“I know.”

The words come out before you think about them. And the second they do,you feel it.That small slip.

His gaze lifts fully to yours.With no intent of searching or questioning, its just there.

“…You noticed.” It isn’t a question.

You hold his gaze for a second longer than you should.

“I notice things.”

It’s controlled and Careful ,But it’s not nothing.

He exhales quietly, like something in him eases and tightens at the same time.

“I didn’t think you would.” There’s something off in that. Almost as if its uncertain.

You don’t answer immediately. Because that doesn’t match him,none of this does.

“You still came today,” you say instead.

It’s a small thing,It shouldn’t matter.But by now you know it does.

His jaw shifts slightly, like he’s holding something back.

“Yeah.”

A pause.

“Didn’t want to miss it again.”

The words sit between you. The words are simple but anything but casual or empty.

You stand there for a bit. Because you can hear what he didn’t say. Because it feels like something is trying to reach you,and stopping just short.

You look away first,Of course.

You step past him, keeping just enough distance, your shoulder brushing the air between you but not him.

Still—

you feel it.

The way his attention follows.

He doesn’t turn right away.He lets you go.That is in his control.

What isn’t—is everything else.

His chest feels tighter than it should. Not enough to hurt, or so he thinks,but its noticeable.

Because that wasn’t how he meant it to go. He had more.He just couldn’t get it out right.

His hand lifts briefly, dragging through his hair before dropping back down, like he’s trying to shake off something that won’t leave.

You noticed.That’s what stays. Not what you said or how you said it. But That you were paying attention at all. Even now.

And that changes something.

Because it means this isn’t one-sided, it means he didn’t lose it completely.

He exhales slowly, eyes shifting forward before he finally starts walking.

This isn’t enough.He knows that.Not even close to enough.

But it’s the first thing that hasn’t felt—empty.

Sukuna doesn’t just want to be near you.He wants to get it right.

He just doesn’t know how yet,but he’ll do what it takes to figure it out.

——

The library is quieter than usual.

Calm enough that every small sound feels sharper. Pages turning. Chairs shifting. The low hum of people trying not to disturb each other.

You’ve been here long enough to settle into it , to be focused.Almost.

You don’t notice him at first.

It’s only when the chair beside you pulls out, not across or behind—

beside.

That gets your attention. Just slightly.

You don’t look at him immediately. You don’t need to. You already know.

Your fingers still against the page for a second before you turn it. You continue writing. Like nothing changed.

Sukuna sits down slower than he means to. He’s careful with it. Like he’s aware of the space he’s stepping into.

He doesn’t say anything right away.

The silence stretches.And its different from before,tense.

He glances at you once.Then again.

You don’t look up.

Your focus stays on your notes, your posture steady, controlled,but your pen presses harder than it should.

He notices that.Of course he does.

“..You always sit here?”

It’s quiet but it’s not casual, like you’d expect from him.

You nod once.

“Yes.”

A pause.

“You’ve seen me.”

It’s not a question. Your hand stops. Just for a second.

Then—

“…I’ve seen you everywhere,” you say, before you can stop yourself.

Silence.

You feel it immediately ,What you just admitted.

Your gaze lifts, And he’s already looking at you. Closer this time. Too close to ignore.

Something shifts between you.And its feels so real.

His brows pull together slightly, not in confusion,something else. Something you can’t name yet.

“…I didn’t mean it.”

The words come out before he can adjust them. Your expression changes.

“Mean what?”

He exhales slowly, looking away for a second before forcing himself back.

“The way I said it.” It’s not a full apology. But it’s not nothing.

Your chest tightens.

this is different.

You don’t respond immediately.

“You said what you meant.” Your voice is steady but softer than before.

He shakes his head slightly.

“No.” A beat.

“I said it like it didn’t matter.”

His words hit. Because it did.

You don’t look away this time. And for a second…neither does he.

The space between you feels smaller. Not physically ,just…closer.

Like something is about to shift into something neither of you knows how to handle.

His hand moves slightly on the table, they’re not reaching but they’re closer.

Then stops.

“…It did,” he adds, quieter. that’s the closest he’s come.

You inhale slowly, steadying yourself. Because a part of you,wants to believe him. And that’s exactly what you don’t trust.

You close your notebook.

“I should go.”

He nods immediately.Too quickly.Like he expected it. Like he knows you wouldn’t want tostay.

“Yeah.”

You stand.He doesn’t stop you or reach for you,doesn’t even say another word. Doesn’t say anything else.

But when you walk past, you feel it again.That same thing.

Stronger this time , and you know this time that its not just awareness but something stronger pulling, something which is unfinished.

He doesn’t move for a long moment after you leave.

Because …..that was close. Closer than he’s been. Closer than he’s comfortable with. And still its not enough.

His jaw tightens slightly as he looks down at the table.He meant it. Not the words but what he tried to say. And it still came out wrong.

He exhales sharply, leaning back in his chair.

This isn’t something he can force like before ,something he can win by pushing harder. If he does,he loses you again. And,that’s not something he’s willing to risk anymore.

He just wants to keep this from slipping through his hands again. And maybe that’s why he starts paying attention to details he would’ve ignored before.

The crease between your brows when you reread a line too quickly. The way your fingers pause against the page whenever your concentration drifts. The quiet habit you have of tapping your pen twice before continuing your notes.

Tiny things.

The kind of things that settle into him before he realizes he’s memorizing them.

The distance between you changes slowly after that.

He starts sitting closer during lectures, close enough that your shoulder brushes his line of sight whenever you shift in your seat. Somewhere along the way, it stops feeling strange to find him there.

You stop reacting to his presence immediately. Your body no longer stiffens every time he sits beside you, and your gaze doesn’t dart away as quickly when you catch him looking.

The tension remains.It simply changes shape.

One afternoon, you miss part of a lecture while searching through your bag for a pen you swore you packed. By the time you look back up, his notebook is angled slightly toward you.

The missing lines are already there.

Your eyes linger on the page for a second before you copy them down quietly.

When you finish, he pulls the notebook back without comment and continues writing like nothing happened.

Something about that stays with you longer than it should.

Not the gesture itself. The ease of it. The fact that he noticed at all.

You begin expecting him in small ways after that.

A seat occupied before class starts. A familiar presence beside you in the library. The low sound of pages turning a few minutes before the lecture begins.

The awareness settles carefully, slowly enough that you almost miss it happening. Almost. Sukuna notices the shift immediately.

Your guard still exists. He can see it every time your attention catches itself lingering too long. Every time you seem to remember, halfway through a moment, that you should probably pull back.

But you stay. And for him, that changes everything. Because every second you allow him near you feels painfully earned. And every second makes him want to keep earning more.

Somewhere along the line, the space between you changes as well, without either of you acknowledging it.

It shows up in small ways first.

His shoulder ending up close enough to yours during lectures that you become aware of the warmth before you realize why your focus slipped.

You notice it. You stop reacting to it. That’s the dangerous part.

you’re reaching into your bag for a pen when your fingers brush against his by accident.

The contact lasts less than a second,your hand stills immediately after. So does his.

Neither of you says anything.

You pull your hand back first, finding the pen a moment later than you should have.

When you finally look up again, his attention is already on the front of the room.

But the grip he has on his own pen has tightened slightly. And for some reason,it came to your notice.

Another time, the lecture hall empties too quickly around you.

You stand at the same moment he does, both of you stepping into the narrow aisle at once. Too close. Your shoulder brushes his chest lightly before either of you can stop it.

The contact is brief.Its barely there.

Still, something in Sukuna’s posture changes instantly, his body going still in a way you’ve never seen before.

Like he felt all of it.

You murmur a quiet apology and try to move past him.

His hand lifts instinctively. Not grabbing or holding. Just settling lightly against your waist for half a second to steady you before letting go again.

The touch burns long after it’s gone. You feel it all the way back to your seat. Sukuna feels it longer. Because you didn’t pull away immediately.

You looked at him first. And for one dangerous second neither of you moved.

After that, he becomes more careful with himself.

Ironically, it only makes everything worse. Because now every accidental touch feels deliberate in the moments after.

Every brush of your hand. Every shift of your knee beneath the desk. Every second you remain close instead of creating distance.

And you let it happen. Slowly, reluctant. But enough that the tension between you begins settling into something warmer. Something softer around the edges. Something that almost feels safe.

That’s what ruins him.

The way he starts getting used to it. The way he starts waiting for those tiny moments like they mean more than they should. Like they’re proof that maybe, slowly, you’re letting him back in.

——-

The café was loud in the comfortable way it always was around them.

Gojo’s voice carried over half the room effortlessly, something animated and exaggerated spilling out of him while Geto sat across the table looking deeply regrettable about ever responding in the first place. Shoko was barely participating, curled into her chair with a drink in one hand and the expression of someone enduring a long-term inconvenience.

It felt normal. Easy.

The kind of scene you hadn’t realized you missed until you were standing in front of it again.

“There she is,” Gojo announced the second he noticed you. “Thought you died.”

“I was in class.”

“Exactly. Suspicious.”

You rolled your eyes softly, shifting your bag higher onto your shoulder as you stepped closer to the table.

Geto gave you a small nod in greeting. Shoko lifted two fingers lazily without looking up from her drink.

And despite yourself,you relaxed.Just a little.

“Sit down before he starts crying,” Shoko muttered.

“I cry beautifully,” Gojo said immediately.

“You cry loudly.”

A quiet laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

Gojo pointed at you triumphantly. “See? She likes me.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“It basically was.”

You shook your head, still smiling faintly as you moved around the table,then stopped. Because Sukuna was walking toward the group.

Your attention caught instantly. Not intentionally, It just did.

He slowed slightly when he reached the table, gaze flickering toward you first before anyone else. The look lasted maybe a second. Still enough that something low in your chest shifted unexpectedly.

“Move,” he muttered toward Gojo, nudging the empty chair beside you lightly with his foot.

Gojo’s grin appeared immediately.Dangerous.

“Oh, this is interesting.”

Sukuna ignored him completely. Which somehow made it worse.

The chair scraped against the floor as he pulled it out and sat beside you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Not across from you. Beside you.

You became suddenly, painfully aware of how close he was.

The warmth of him settled near your shoulder almost immediately, familiar enough to make your chest tighten before you could stop it.

Gojo looked delighted.

Geto looked like he’s fighting a smirk.

Even Shoko glanced up briefly over the rim of her drink before looking away again like she’d expected this already. And that unsettled you more than anything else.

Because suddenly it didn’t feel contained anymore. Whatever had been happening between you and Sukuna over the past few weeks had stopped existing only in quiet moments and lingering eye contact, Other people could see it now.

Your fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the table.

Instinctively, your gaze shifted sideways, And found Sukuna already looking at you. Not intensely , not carelessly either its,

Just….there. Aware.

Like his attention kept settling on you before he realized he was doing it. Like it happened naturally now.

Your breath caught softly.You looked away first.

Conversation drifted around you again after that, easy and overlapping, but your awareness stayed split strangely in two.

Half listening to Gojo argue dramatically about something meaningless. Half aware of Sukuna beside you. Every small movement registered.

The brush of his sleeve near your arm when he reached for a drink. The quiet shift of his posture whenever you spoke. The way his attention flickered toward you before anyone else whenever the group laughed about something.

None of it was obvious. That was the problem.It felt unconscious. And somehow that made it harder to dismiss.

“You’re quiet,” Gojo said suddenly, looking between the two of you with immediate suspicion.

“She’s always quiet,” Sukuna answered before you could.

Your eyes lifted immediately.So did Gojo’s brows.

There was something strange about hearing him say it. Not teasing but…familiar. Like he’d spent enough time paying attention to know.

The realization hit harder than it should have.Because he had.

Sukuna seemed to realize it a second later too.

A faint tension pulled briefly through his shoulders before he leaned back slightly in his chair, gaze shifting away.

Gojo looked moments away from losing his mind.

“This is insane,” he muttered dramatically into his drink.

“Please shut up,” Shoko sighed.

You tried focusing on the conversation again. It didn’t really work. Because every few seconds, your attention drifted sideways again without permission.

And every time—

you found Sukuna already there.

Then Gojo spoke again.

“So,” he said lazily, stretching back in his chair, “we’re all still alive enough for tomorrow night, right?”

Shoko groaned immediately. “No.”

“You say that every time.”

“Because every time I mean it.”

Geto glanced toward you. “You coming?”

You blinked once. “Coming where?”

“The party.”

The word settled strangely in your chest. Your gaze shifted toward Sukuna automatically. His expression flattened almost immediately, like he already disliked where the conversation was heading.

Gojo noticed. Which meant everyone noticed.

“The frat’s finally doing something tomorrow,” Gojo said.

“And our Frat king here actually agreed to show up.” Gojo continued, far too entertained by this entire situation.

“Historic moment, honestly.”

The thought caught uncomfortably against everything else that had been building these past few weeks.

The carefulness.The lingering looks. The quiet touches that never seemed intentional until they were over.

And then—a party.

Crowds. Music. Girls draped across him like before. Like nothing had changed at all. Your chest tightened unexpectedly. Because you suddenly couldn’t tell which version of him was real.

The one beside you now,or the one you’d spent so long trying to forget.

“I’m only showing up because you people wouldn’t shut up about it.” Sukuna’s voice cut through the table quietly.

“You don’t have to come.” He said to you, carefully.

You looked at him immediately. He was already watching you again. And there was something restrained in his expression now. Almost wary, like he was trying to spare you from something before it happened. The look settled somewhere dangerous beneath your ribs. Because it felt sincere.

And that,that was becoming harder to protect yourself from.

———

The conversation happens later, after the noise of the café has faded and everyone drifts off in different directions.

You end up outside one of the campus buildings with Shoko almost by accident, the evening air cooler now, carrying that faint tiredness that settles over campus after sunset. She’s leaning against the railing near the vending machines, tapping the bottom of a cigarette pack against her palm while you stand beside her with your bag hanging loosely from your shoulder.

For a while, neither of you says anything. It’s comfortable enough that the silence doesn’t need fixing.

“You’ve been weird lately,” Shoko says eventually.

You glance at her immediately. “That’s rich coming from you.”

“I’m always weird. Yours is recent.”

You let out a quiet breath through your nose, looking away toward the dim lights scattered across campus.

“I’m fine.”

Shoko hums softly like she doesn’t believe you for even a second. The image from earlier keeps circling quietly in your head despite yourself.

Sukuna beside you at the café.The way his attention kept drifting toward you without meaning to. The way he sounded when Gojo brought up the party.

Flat.Detached.Different. Dangerously easy to believe.

“You’re thinking about him again,” Shoko says observing you.

Your shoulders tense slightly.

“That obvious?”

“To me? Yeah.”

You stare ahead quietly for a moment.

The worst part is that you don’t even know what exactly you’re thinking anymore. Not clearly. Not in a way that makes sense. Because things have changed. You know they have.

You feel it every time he sits beside you without hesitation now. Every time his hand brushes yours and neither of you pulls away quickly enough. Every time his gaze settles on you like it’s become instinct.

And somehow,that’s exactly what scares you.

“I don’t know what he wants,” you admit finally, quieter this time.

Shoko glances sideways at you.

“Neither does he.”

A small laugh escapes you before you can stop it. Tired. Brief. Then the silence settles again.

Not awkward. Just thoughtful.

“You going tomorrow?” Shoko asks after a while.

You already know what she means.

“I wasn’t planning to.”

Shoko finally pulls a cigarette free but doesn’t light it yet, rolling it slowly between her fingers instead.

“You should.”

You blink once. “Why?”

She shrugs lightly.

“Because you’ve been orbiting this thing with him for weeks.”

The words land more directly than you expect. Your brows pull together slightly.

“I’m not—”

“You are.”

Still calm. Still matter-of-fact. Shoko tilts her head back slightly, looking out across campus.

“And honestly? Whether he’s miserable or having some identity crisis over you isn’t really the point.”

Your chest tightens unexpectedly at the word miserable. You hate that she notices. Because of course she does.

“The point,” Shoko continues, “is that you’re allowed to exist outside of whatever’s happening with Sukuna.”

You stay quiet.

“You don’t have to avoid places because he might be there,” she says. “And you definitely don’t have to sit around wondering whether every look means something.”

That one hits a little too accurately. A faint smile pulls at the corner of Shoko’s mouth when she notices your expression.

“Go to the party. Have fun. Ignore him if you want to. Talk to other people. Remember your life doesn’t stop every time Ryomen Sukuna starts acting emotionally constipated.”

You laugh despite yourself. A real one this time. Your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag as you stare ahead quietly. Maybe she’s right.

Maybe you’ve spent too much time reading into every glance, every careful touch, every almost-word like they carried more meaning than they should. Maybe going would finally settle it one way or another.

“I guess I could go for a little while,” you murmur eventually.

Shoko snorts softly beside you.

“That’s the closest thing to recklessness I’ve ever heard from you.”

You roll your eyes lightly, but a small smile stays on your face this time.

And somewhere deep down,beneath all the hesitation and caution and doubt a quieter thought lingers.

You want to see him there.

——-

The party swallows you in pieces.

First the music. Then the heat. Then the blur of bodies moving through colored light like the whole house is breathing around you.

For a moment, you linger near the entrance beside Shoko, fingers curled around a drink you haven’t touched yet while people brush past your shoulders laughing too loudly, already drunk enough to lean into each other without caring.

Rain taps steadily against the windows outside, soft beneath the bass vibrating through the walls.

You tell yourself to relax. To stop thinking so much.

“You look like you’re preparing for war,” Shoko says beside you.

“I’m standing.”

“You’re standing aggressively.”

You glare weakly at her over the rim of your cup.

Shoko only snorts softly before glancing around the room.

“You know, normal people usually come to parties to enjoy themselves.”

“I am enjoying myself.”

“You’ve looked at the door six times.”

Heat crawls unpleasantly into your chest.

Because the worst part is, you hadn’t realized you were doing it. Not consciously.

Your attention just keeps shifting every few minutes before you can stop it. Toward the hallway. Toward the stairs. Toward every flicker of pink hair moving through crowded rooms before disappointment settles quietly afterward.

You hate it.The automaticness of it. The way some part of you keeps waiting anyway. You came here for yourself. You remind yourself that immediately.

Because Shoko was right.

Your life shouldn’t tighten around Sukuna every time he enters it. You shouldn’t still be carrying him around inside your head this heavily after everything.

Tonight was supposed to prove that. That you could still exist somewhere he existed too and remain untouched by it.

And maybe, if you were being honest, some quieter part of you wanted to know if he’d look for you too.

The thought settles heavily enough that you immediately shove it away.

Gojo appears before you can spiral further. Naturally.

“There she is!” he announces dramatically, nearly sloshing his drink onto both of you as he throws an arm around your shoulder. “I knew you secretly wanted to come”

“You invited me three hours ago.”

“And yet you still came. Beautiful character development.”

A laugh escapes you despite yourself. Real enough that it surprises even you.

Geto appears behind Gojo looking deeply exhausted already.

“She’s been here five minutes and you’re yelling.”

“I’m creating atmosphere.”

“You’re creating public disturbance.”

The night gets easier after that slowly.

You let yourself get pulled into conversations instead of standing quietly at the edges of them. You argue with Gojo about something stupid enough that halfway through neither of you even remembers what side you were defending anymore. Someone drags you into a blurry group photo you definitely didn’t agree to.

And somewhere along the way, the tightness inside your chest starts loosening. Not completely, Never completely. Because Sukuna still exists in every corner of your awareness whether you want him there or not.

Every low laugh behind you makes your attention shift instinctively before your brain catches up. Every tall figure moving through crowds pulls at your focus for half a second first.

You keep wondering if he’s seen you yet. You hate that you keep wondering.

But eventually even that begins softening beneath the warmth of the night around you.

Shoko disappears somewhere upstairs. Gojo gets distracted by literally everything at once. Rain crashes harder outside now, silver streaks racing down dark windows while thunder rumbles faintly overhead.

And for the first time in weeks,you breathe. Actually breathe.

Maybe this is what you needed. Maybe Shoko was right, whatever has been. happening between you and Sukuna lately doesn’t have to consume every part of you. You can exist around him without unraveling,perhaps.

And beneath all those thoughts—another one slips in quietly.

You want to see him tonight. Not for closure or for any answers. Just to know if he’ll look at you the same way he has lately. Like something in him shifts every time you enter a room. Like he feels this too.

Your chest tightens around the realization.

Because somewhere along the way, you stopped being afraid of wanting him.

And started being afraid he might not want you back in the same devastating way.

The thought is still sitting low beneath your ribs when your attention shifts suddenly. No reason.Just instinct.

Your eyes lift across the room, and find him immediately.

Your breath catches so sharply it almost hurts.

Sukuna stands near the open patio doors, rain-heavy air curling into the house around him while dim gold light cuts across the sharp line of his jaw. His dark shirt clings slightly at the collar like he’s already stepped outside once tonight, pink hair damp near the edges from rainwater.

And even from here,he looks restless. He doesn’t seem drunk or entertained, like the Sukuna everyone else sees at parties.

His gaze moves distractedly through the crowd, shoulders tense beneath the flashing lights like he’s searching for something without fully realizing it.

And suddenly, your chest softens.

Because some horrible, hopeful part of you wonders if he’s been looking for you too.

The thought lands gently.Deeply.

Enough that your pulse stumbles around it.

Then someone stumbles into him. A girl.

At first, you barely react. People have been colliding into each other all night ,but she doesn’t move away after.

She grabs onto his arm laughing breathlessly, body swaying slightly from alcohol as she nearly slips near the wet patio entrance. Sukuna catches her automatically before she falls, one hand circling briefly around her waist while the other steadies her wrist.

Your stomach drops. The girl laughs again getting closer this time.

Her fingers slide upward slowly against the chain resting near his collarbone while she leans toward him, saying something near his ear with the kind of easy familiarity that makes your chest tighten instantly.

Sukuna’s brows pull together immediately. Not softened or amused.He looks Distracted. Like he barely even registers what she’s saying.

His hand stays at her waist only long enough to steady her before it loosens again, attention already shifting elsewhere through the crowded room.

But from where you’re standing that distinction barely matters. Because suddenly it all comes rushing back at once.

Every party you ever saw him at before this.

Girls draped across him effortlessly. Lipstick-stained glasses. Hands touching him like everyone already knew he’d let them.

The version of him that never belonged to anyone long enough to matter.

Your throat burns violently. And the worst part?

For weeks now,you let yourself forget. You let yourself believe in quieter things instead.

Library tables.Lingering eye contact. The warmth of his hand steadying your waist.

The way his gaze softened around you lately before he even realized it was happening.

The almost apology in the library.The carefulness.

God.

The carefulness ruined you most. Because you believed it. You actually, genuinely started believing he meant it.

Your eyes sting immediately.

Hot enough that you blink hard against it on instinct. Because standing here now, watching another girl lean into him while rain crashes outside the windows and music drowns the room around you—

you suddenly feel unbearably stupid.

Not angry.Not even jealous.

Humiliated.

Like every hopeful thing you carried carefully these past few weeks existed only because you wanted it to. Because you kept mistaking scraps of softness for something real.

The girl says something else, leaning closer into his space.

Sukuna looks like he’s about to answer when his gaze shifts absently over her shoulder instead, restless, searching—

Then stops,

On you.

Everything in him stops,like the world stopped. You see it happen in real time,the confusion first,then recognition.

Then absolute fucking horror crashing across his face so fast it almost doesn’t look real. His hand drops from the girl immediately like the contact burns him alive.

The color drains from his face. His entire body goes rigid. Because he knows.

He knows exactly what this looks like. Exactly what you’re thinking. Exactly what just shattered inside you.

“Wait—”

The word rips out of him rough enough that several people nearby actually turn. The desperation clear in his voice.

The girl beside him startles when Sukuna jerks completely away from her now, attention locked entirely onto you with something frantic breaking apart behind his eyes.

Like he’s watching a car crash happen in slow motion and can’t stop it. But it’s already too late. Because something inside you has broken open completely. And suddenly you can’t breathe in this room anymore. Can’t stand inside his world another second.

Not where you let yourself believe, even briefly, that maybe this time, maybe this time he was finally reaching for you the way you’d been reaching for him all along.

You turn before he can get to you.

Rain crashes violently outside as you shove through the crowd toward the front door, pulse hammering painfully beneath your skin while behind you-

you hear Sukuna calling your name.

And for the first time since you met him—

Ryomen Sukuna sounds terrified.

——

Sukuna doesn’t think.

The second you turn away from him, something primal tears through his chest so violently it almost knocks the breath out of him.

Pure panic.

He’s moving before the girl beside him even finishes reacting.

Her hand slips from his sleeve as he jerks away from her completely, eyes already locked on the space where you disappeared through the crowd.

“Wait, Sukuna, I was just—”

He doesn’t hear the rest.Doesn’t even register her voice.

Because all he saw, all he can still fucking see …is your face. The look in your eyes. It wasn’t anger. He could’ve handled anger, You yelling at him,Hating him,Slapping him across the face. Anything.

But that look—

Like something inside you had quietly given up. Like every fragile thing he’d spent weeks trying to rebuild between you collapsed in a single second.

Like you finally regretted believing him. Fear hits him so hard it borders on nausea.

People turn as he shoves through the crowded house, shoulders slamming hard enough into strangers to send drinks splashing onto the floor. Someone curses at him. Someone says his name.

Gojo maybe, maybe Toji, He doesn’t know.

Nothing matters except getting to you before that look settles permanently into your eyes.

Rain crashes against him violently the second he steps outside. Cold enough to sting. Heavy enough to soak through his clothes instantly.

His eyes search frantically down the street before he finds you halfway across the sidewalk, walking too fast through the storm with your arms wrapped tightly around yourself like you’re physically trying to hold your chest together.

And something inside him fucking caves in. Because you’re crying. Not loudly, or dramatically but,

Worse.

Silent.

Your shoulders shake once beneath the rain before you wipe harshly at your face, still moving like if you stop for even a second you’ll completely break apart.

And Sukuna,

Sukuna has never felt terror like this before. Because this is his fault.

Not the girl. Not the party.

This.

You hurting like this because he was too late. Too stupid. Too fucking blind to realize how fragile your trust in him still was.

“Hey—”

His voice comes out wrecked and its barely recognizable.

You don’t stop walking.Panic claws viciously through his chest. Sharp enough to hurt.

He catches up quickly, shoes splashing hard against flooded pavement before instinct takes over completely and his hand closes around your wrist.

His touch is Warm,desperate,shaking slightly.

You gasp softly as he pulls you back before you can slip against the slick pavement, your soaked body colliding lightly against his chest for half a second before you stumble back again.

But not before he feels it. How badly you’re trembling.

And God.

That nearly fucking destroys him on the spot.

Rain pours violently between both of you now, thunder cracking somewhere overhead while water streams endlessly down Sukuna’s face, his hair plastered against his forehead, his chest heaving unevenly beneath a shirt soaked through completely.

And for a second,he just stares at you. Because you look heartbroken. Painfully heartbroken. Your eyes are red beneath the rain. Your lashes clumped together with tears and water.

Your mouth trembling slightly every few seconds like you’re trying so hard to stay composed and failing anyway.

The sight tears something open inside him so violently he almost physically recoils from it.

Because he did this. He did this to you.

And suddenly Sukuna realizes with horrifying clarity that he would rather let someone carve him open alive than have you look at him like this again.

“It wasn’t—” His voice catches hard.

His voice catches hard.

Too many things trying to come out at once. He tries again immediately.

“It wasn’t like that.”

You laugh softly. And the sound absolutely fucking ruins him. Because it sounds exhausted. Humiliated.Like you’re trying not to completely fall apart in front of him.

“Please don’t,” you whisper.

Rainwater drips endlessly from your lashes as you look away from him, jaw tightening hard enough to shake.

“I can’t do this right now.”

Sukuna’s chest caves inward so violently he physically steps closer without meaning to.

Because you sound done. Not angry. Done.

“No.”

The word leaves him instantly in such panic. Desperate,Almost pleading.

“No, don’t— don’t fucking say it like that.”

You finally look at him again. And, he’s losing you. He can feel it happening in real time. Like sand slipping violently through his hands no matter how hard he tries to hold on.

“She grabbed onto me,” he says immediately, voice uneven in a way he’s never heard from himself before. “I wasn’t even fucking paying attention to her.”

Rainwater drips from his jaw as he drags a shaking hand through soaked hair.

“I was looking for you.”

Your breath catches. Tiny.

And suddenly he’s talking too fast, panic ripping every sentence out before he can think.

“I’ve been looking for you all fucking night,” he says roughly. “That’s why I kept looking around. I didn’t even realize she was talking to me until—”

His voice breaks violently.

“Until you looked at me like that.”

Your throat moves sharply as you swallow. But your expression doesn’t soften and somehow that terrifies him more than if you screamed.

“Okay,” you whisper.

Okay. Thats all you say.

The word hits him like a knife straight through the chest. Because it doesn’t sound like belief. It sounds like surrender. Like you’re already trying to kill your feelings for him before they hurt you worse.

“No.”

He steps closer immediately. Too close now. Close enough that your rain-soaked breaths mix between both of you.

“Don’t say it like that.”

Your composure finally cracks then.Not dramatically but if there’s something Worse than that.

Your face crumples slightly before you look away again, one shaking breath leaving you hard enough that Sukuna’s chest physically aches hearing it.

“Then how am I supposed to say it?” you ask quietly, voice breaking apart. “How am I supposed to react to this?”

Sukuna freezes Because there it is. Not jealousy. Not anger. But pain.

Raw enough that it strips him open instantly.

“You know what the worst part is?” you whisper, eyes burning now despite the rain washing endlessly down your face. “I actually started believing you.”

Something inside Sukuna shatters completely.

“You looked at me like…” Your voice breaks so hard you stop speaking entirely for a second, shaking your head once like you hate yourself for even admitting this. “God, you looked at me like I mattered to you.”

“You do.”

The answer leaves him violently fast.

Immediate ,Like breathing ,as if him not saying it fast enough would make it worse. Your eyes widen at his words slightly.

And Sukuna steps closer again before he can stop himself, hands hovering helplessly near your arms like he wants to hold you together physically but is terrified you’ll pull away.

“You do,” he says again, rougher this time, rain soaking through every word. “You matter so fucking much it’s driving me insane.”

Your breath catches sharply. And suddenly Sukuna can’t stop anymore. Weeks of restraint split open all at once.

“I can’t fucking sleep anymore,” he admits, voice wrecked now. “Every room I walk into, I look for you first.”

Rain streams endlessly down his face while his eyes stay locked desperately onto yours.

“I sat through that stupid fucking party hoping you’d show up.”

Something in your chest twist sharply.

“And when you did…” His voice catches roughly. “Fuck.”

He laughs once in disbelief Like even now he can’t believe how badly this has ruined him.

“You looked so beautiful tonight I couldn’t fucking think straight.”

The confession lands between both of you like lightning. Its raw, ugly and honest .

“And then you looked at me like that—”

His voice cracks completely this time. Actually cracks. Like he physically cannot survive replaying that moment again.

Before you can react—

he drops.

Straight onto his knees against the flooded pavement. The sound of it shocks you visibly.

“Sukuna—”

“I don’t care.”

His voice is wrecked now. Absolutely wrecked.

Rain pours over him mercilessly while he looks up at you from the ground like he’s watching his entire life walk away from him in real time.

And maybe he is.

“I don’t care if this is pathetic,” he says hoarsely. “I don’t care if I look fucking insane right now.”

Your chest tightens painfully. Because Sukuna never begs. Never. But he is now.

“You can yell at me,” he says, breathing unevenly. “You can hate me if you want to. But don’t stand there and tell yourself none of this was real.”

His voice breaks hard around the last sentence.

And suddenly he looks…something which isn’t,arrogant like his usual self, he looks … terrified.

“I meant every fucking thing,” he says desperately. “Every look. Every touch. Every second.”

Your composure visibly splinters then.

A shaky breath leaves you as your hand rises instinctively toward your mouth.

And Sukuna’s expression crumples completely the second he realizes you’re crying harder now.

“Fuck,” he whispers brokenly, like the sound physically hurts him. “Baby, please don’t cry.”

The nickname slips out accidentally.

Raw. Unthinking. And somehow that ruins you even more. Because Sukuna is kneeling in the middle of the storm looking at you like losing you would destroy him completely

Rain crashes endlessly around both of you. Cold water streams down Sukuna’s face, soaks through his clothes, drips from his lashes every time he looks up at you from the pavement beneath your feet.

Still, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t even seem aware of the storm anymore. The only thing he sees is you.

Shaking. Crying. Looking at him like he’s broken something fragile beyond repair.

And it’s killing him.

“Sukuna” you whisper shakily.

He looks up immediately.Like your voice physically pulls at him.

“Stand up.”

He shakes his head once instantly. Small.Desperate.

“I can’t lose you.”

The words leave him before he can stop them. Raw enough that your breath catches.

Rainwater slides down the sharp line of his jaw while he stares at you like he’s drowning in front of you and doesn’t care who sees it.

And suddenly he looks nothing like the Sukuna everyone else knows. No arrogance. No control ,just fear.

“Sukuna,” you say again, voice cracking harder this time. “Stand up.”

Slowly,hesitant enough,he does.

But the second he’s close again, your hand presses hard against his chest instinctively. Holding space there.

Keeping him from getting any closer before you completely lose yourself in him again. Your fingers fist weakly into his soaked shirt.

Sukuna looks down at them like the contact alone nearly destroys him.

“You don’t get to do this to me,” you whisper.

Rainwater clings to your lashes while your voice trembles apart more with every word.

“You don’t get to look at me like I’m everything to you and then make me feel this replaceable.”

Sukuna physically flinches. Like the words hit somewhere deep enough to bruise.

“You think I wanted her there?” he asks roughly.

Your jaw tightens immediately.

“That’s not the point.”

“I know it’s not the fucking point.”

His voice breaks suddenly. Violently. And that shocks both of you into silence for half a second. Because Sukuna never sounds like this. Never.

Rain crashes harder around both of you while he drags a shaking hand through soaked hair, chest rising unevenly like breathing itself hurts now.

“You know what the problem is?” he says hoarsely. “I don’t know how to do this right.”

Your eyes flicker toward him again despite yourself.

“I don’t know how to stand in front of you without feeling like everything I’ve ever been is suddenly disgusting.”

The confession lands hard between both of you because its Ugly and honest.

“You look at me now and I can see you trying so hard to trust me again.” His voice roughens further. “And every fucking second I’m terrified I’m gonna ruin it.”

Something in your chest twists painfully.

“You think I don’t know what people say about me?” he laughs once softly.

There’s no humour in it.

“They’re right.”

You shake your head immediately. But Sukuna keeps going before you can stop him.

“No, listen to me.” His eyes lock onto yours desperately. “I spent years acting like none of this mattered. None of them mattered. Drinking too much, sleeping around, acting like I didn’t give a shit about anything because it was easier than…” His voice catches hard. “Than feeling something real.”

Your grip tightens involuntarily against his chest.

“And then you happened.”

The words leave him quietly this time.Almost disbelieving. Like even now he can’t fully understand what you did to him.

“And suddenly I couldn’t breathe properly every time you looked at me.”

Your breath catches sharply.

“I started noticing everything.” His voice shakes. “The way you play with your rings when you’re nervous. The way your face changes when you’re trying not to smile. The way you always look for everyone else before yourself.”

Rain drips endlessly from his chin while his eyes stay completely fixed on you.

“I tried so hard not to want you this badly.”

The honesty in his voice hurts , it hurts so much.

“But you kept getting under my skin anyway.” He laughs again softly, devastated this time. “And then one day I realized I was rearranging my entire fucking life around the chance of being near you for ten minutes.”

Your composure visibly cracks.

“I stopped going to parties because they felt empty without you there.” His voice lowers roughly. “I sat in classrooms I didn’t care about because you were in them.”

Tears mix endlessly with rain on your face now. Sukuna notices every single one. And it destroys him more each time.

“When you stopped talking to me…” His throat moves sharply.

“Fuck.”

He looks away for the first time. Only for a second. Like the memory physically hurts to touch.

“I thought that was it,” he admits quietly. “Thought I finally pushed too far and lost the only person I’ve ever looked at and thought…”

His voice breaks completely. You stare at him with your heart hammering.

Sukuna swallows hard, eyes finding yours again with something unbearably vulnerable split wide open inside them.

“The only person I’ve ever wanted to be better for.”

Something inside you caves inward violently.

“And tonight—” His breathing turns uneven again.

“When you looked at me like that…”

He presses a shaking hand briefly against his own chest like he physically can’t steady what’s happening inside it.

“I swear to God it felt like someone ripped my fucking heart out.”

Your eyes sting harder instantly.

“You wanna know why I panicked?” he whispers.

He steps closer despite your hand still against his chest. Not enough to overpower you. Just enough that warmth collides between your soaked bodies again.

“Because I knew exactly what you saw.”

Your breath trembles.

“You saw every reason you ever had not to trust me standing right in front of you again.” His voice cracks hard. “And I couldn’t fucking survive knowing I put that look in your eyes.”

The storm roars around both of you. Neither of you notices anymore.

“You don’t understand what you’ve become to me,” Sukuna whispers brokenly. “You walk into a room and suddenly everything else disappears.”

Your hand tightens in his shirt. Instinctively.

“And yeah,” he laughs softly again, devastated. “Maybe this is pathetic.”

His eyes burn into yours.

“But I’d rather kneel in the rain begging for you than spend one more second pretending I don’t belong completely to you already.”

Sukuna’s words hang between both of you beneath the storm. Heavy. Breathless. Still vibrating somewhere deep inside your chest. For a second, neither of you move.

Rain crashes endlessly around you, soaking through everything, thunder rumbling low somewhere above the city while your pulse pounds so hard it almost hurts.

And suddenly, you realize Sukuna is shaking. Your hand is still twisted tightly in the front of his soaked shirt, fingers trembling against his chest while he looks at you like he’s waiting for the final blow. Like he genuinely believes you might still walk away. And somehow that hurts worse than anything else tonight.

“Sukuna…” you whisper.

His eyes close briefly at the sound of his name in your voice. Like it physically wounds him. You hate this. You hate him. You hate the terrifying amount of power he has over your heart.

“I hate you,” you whisper shakily.

The words collapse halfway through because neither of you believes them anymore. Something helpless flickers across his face. Not defensive or angry. Just devastated.

“I know.”

Your throat burns harder instantly. Because he sounds like he’d let you.

Like he’d stand here and let you destroy him if that’s what you needed.

You shake your head sharply.

“No, you don’t.”

Rainwater slips down your cheeks endlessly now, your breathing uneven and fragile while Sukuna watches you with complete, terrifying attention.

“You don’t understand how terrifying this is for me,” you admit finally.

And there it is.The truth. Raw and shaking between both of you.

Sukuna’s expression crumples instantly. Because suddenly he understands. This was never about another girl. This was about you finally allowing yourself to hope. And thinking he destroyed it.

“I know,” he says again, rougher this time. “I know I fucked this up, I know I scared you, I know I’ve given you every reason not to trust me but—”

His voice breaks hard.

“But please don’t give up on me now”

The plea nearly destroys you. Because Sukuna never asks for anything.Never. And yet here he is in the middle of a storm looking at you like you’re the only thing keeping him alive.

Your composure finally gives out completely. A broken sound leaves your throat before you can stop it, fingers tightening harder in his shirt as tears mix violently with rain against your face.

And the second Sukuna sees it, something inside him snaps.

He stands abruptly. Not to leave but to catch you. His hands find your waist instantly, careful for all of half a second before he pulls you against him like he physically cannot survive another inch of distance between you.

You gasp softly against his chest.Warm. Solid. Shaking just as badly as you are.

“Sukuna—”

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately.

The words spill out against your wet hair desperately, uneven and wrecked. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Your chest aches violently. Because he means it. Every single word.

“I didn’t know how bad this got,” he admits roughly, hands tightening at your waist. “I didn’t realize how much of you I already had until I thought I lost it.”

Your eyes squeeze shut instantly.

“And you have me,” you whisper brokenly before you can stop yourself.

The confession hangs there. Both of you freezing slightly beneath the rain. Sukuna pulls back just enough to look at you. And the expression on his face absolutely ruins you. Because he looks stunned. Like nobody has ever handed him something this precious before.

“You can’t say shit like that to me right now,” he whispers hoarsely.

Your breath catches sharply.

“Why?”

A broken laugh leaves him. Wrecked.

“Because I’m already one second away from losing my fucking mind over you.”

And suddenly you can’t take it anymore. Not the way he’s looking at you. Not the honesty splitting him wide open. Not the unbearable tenderness underneath all that desperation.

So you kiss him.

Your hands slide into his soaked hair before you pull him down toward you hard enough that his breath catches violently against your mouth.

And for one stunned heartbeat, Sukuna freezes. Like he can’t believe this is happening. Like he thought you were about to leave him here instead.

Then he kisses you back. And it isn’t smooth , Isn’t polished. Its desperate. Weeks of restraint collapse between you all at once beneath pouring rain and shaking breaths.

Sukuna kisses like he’s starving.

Like every quiet look and lingering touch and swallowed confession finally shattered open inside him at once.

And God, the sound he makes against your mouth nearly breaks you apart completely. Because it sounds relieved.

His hands slide up your back instinctively, pulling you impossibly closer while rain pours endlessly over both of you. You can feel his heart hammering violently through his chest.

Feel the way he keeps holding you like he’s terrified you’ll disappear if he loosens his grip. When the kiss finally breaks, neither of you gets far.

Your foreheads stay pressed together, breaths tangled, eyes still half closed while the storm rages around you unnoticed.

And finally in the entire night, the panic inside Sukuna finally starts settling. Only slightly. Just enough to breathe again.

“I meant everything” he says quietly .

Your eyes open slowly. Sukuna looks wrecked still.

“I know,” you whisper back this time.

And the relief that floods his face is so raw it almost makes you cry again. A quiet laugh escapes you suddenly through the remains of tears.

You’re an idiot.”

Sukuna huffs out the faintest laugh against your forehead.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Probably.”

Rainwater drips from his lashes while his thumb brushes gently beneath your eye, wiping away tears even though more immediately replace them.

The touch is impossibly careful. Like he still can’t believe he’s allowed to hold you like this.

Then quieter he says,

“So don’t scare me like that again.”

You blink at him in disbelief. A laugh escapes you despite everything.

“You’re blaming me?”

“No.” His arms tighten instantly around your waist again. “I’m saying I almost fucking died.”

The dramatic sincerity in his voice makes another wet laugh break from your chest. And Sukuna stares at the sound like he wants to memorize it forever.

The storm hasn’t softened yet. Neither have your feelings. Neither have your feelings or hurt.

But for the first time in a while, neither of you is running from it anymore.

Sukuna presses one last lingering kiss against your forehead before resting his against yours again, eyes finally closing properly this time.

And standing there beneath pouring rain with your heart still shaking violently inside your chest,

you realize something quietly. You’ve never seen Ryomen Sukuna look more terrified. Or more in love.

——-

The storm still crashes endlessly around you, rain soaking through your clothes, dripping from tangled lashes and trembling fingers, but somehow it feels farther away now.

Muted.

Like everything narrowed down to this one moment instead. To him.

Sukuna keeps his forehead pressed against yours, breathing unevenly while his arms stay locked around your waist like he’s still scared you’ll disappear if he loosens his grip even slightly.

And Maybe he is.

Your heartbeat hasn’t settled yet. Neither has his. You can still feel it hammering violently through his chest every time your body shifts against his.

Still feel the occasional tremor running through his hands when they tighten unconsciously at your back.

Then quietly, almost too low beneath the rain, he says,

“I’m sorry.”

The words land differently this time. Because the words aren’t out of panic, but honesty.

Sukuna’s eyes close briefly, lashes wet against his cheeks while he exhales shakily through his nose.

“For all of it.”

Your eyes sting immediately. Sukuna notices.

“Fuck,” he whispers softly, thumb brushing beneath your eye carefully. “Don’t cry again, baby, I’m hanging on by a thread here.”

A watery laugh escapes you despite yourself.

And the relief that floods Sukuna’s face at the sound of it is almost unbearable to look at.

Like hearing you laugh again physically brought him back to life.

The storm softens slightly after that. Not fully.

But enough that the rain becomes steadier instead of violent, washing quietly through empty streets shining gold beneath streetlights.

You finally become aware of how cold you are.

Your clothes cling heavily to your skin now, fingers stiff from rain while your entire body shivers suddenly beneath Sukuna’s hands.

His expression changes instantly.

“You’re freezing.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re shivering.”

“You’re also shivering.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

You stare at him tiredly.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re cold.”

Before you can argue again, Sukuna is already shrugging off his soaked jacket despite the rain still falling lightly around both of you.

You blink immediately.

“Sukuna, that’s literally worse.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’ll freeze.”

“I said I don’t care.”

The jacket settles around your shoulders anyway, still warm somehow despite the storm. And your chest aches quietly at the gesture. Because old Sukuna wouldn’t have noticed. Wouldn’t have cared enough to.

This Sukuna does.

You just stand there beneath dim streetlights while rainwater drips steadily around your feet.

And then, Sukuna reaches for your hand.

He’s careful, no confidence just care. Like he’s still asking permission. Your fingers slide into his before he can second-guess himself. And even such a small gesture makes his breath hitch.

The walk back is quiet. Not awkward. Just soft.

The frat house comes into view slowly through the rain after that, lights still glowing warm behind fogged windows while distant music hums faintly from somewhere inside.

For a second, your steps slow down, he sees that.

His fingers tighten around yours slightly.

“You okay?”

Your eyes linger on the house quietly.

This place used to feel like proof that you could never have him properly.

Too many stories attached to it. Too many girls. Too many nights where Sukuna belonged to everyone except himself.

But tonight, standing here soaked through while his hand holds yours so carefully it almost hurts,

the feeling is different.

“Yeah,” you whisper finally.

And Sukuna’s shoulders loosen so subtly.

The second you step inside, warmth wraps around your skin hard enough to sting. The party has mostly died now.

Music still hums quietly somewhere downstairs, low conversations drifting through the house alongside the smell of alcohol and rain-damp clothes.

Gojo looks up first from the kitchen island. Then pauses dramatically. His eyes flick toward your joined hands. Then your soaked clothes.

Then Sukuna standing absurdly close beside you like he’s terrified distance might happen again if he allows it.

Silence.

“Oh my God,” Gojo breathes.

Shoko looks up from the couch immediately afterward.

One glance at both of you and understanding settles across her face instantly.

“You cried and fixed your lives in the rain, didn’t you?” Gojo whispers dramatically.

“Shut the fuck up,” Sukuna says immediately.

But his grip on your hand tightens instinctively afterward.

And Shoko nearly smiles into her drink. Nearly.

“Called it,” she mutters quietly.

Geto looks deeply exhausted by all of you.

Heat creeps unexpectedly into your face which doesn’t go unnoticed by sukuna. And before anyone can continue further, his hand settles gently against your lower back.

Protectively, guiding you toward the stairs.

The walk upstairs feels strangely intimate now.

The frat house quieter here, distant bass fading beneath rain tapping softly against windows while Sukuna keeps glancing back at you every few seconds like he still needs visual confirmation you’re following him.

And suddenly,you realize he’s nervous. That realization nearly ruins you all over again.

Because Ryomen Sukuna can beg in the rain, confess his feelings with his heart practically bleeding out of his chest,

and still look scared bringing you into his room.

Sukuna’s room is warm. Warmer than the rest of the house somehow. Maybe because it’s quieter here.

No flashing lights. No shouting. No chaos vibrating through the walls.

Just soft rain against the windows and the faint sound of both your breathing still trying to settle after everything.

The door clicks shut behind you.

Sukuna just stands there staring at you like he still hasn’t fully recovered from the fact that you followed him upstairs willingly.

That you stayed.

Then his expression tightens suddenly.

“You’re still freezing.”

Before you can answer, he’s already moving.

“Sit,” he says, grabbing a towel from somewhere near his closet.

You blink once.

“You sound bossy for someone who cried in public ten minutes ago.”

Sukuna pauses mid-step. Looks at you completely seriously.

“I’ll cry again.”

A startled laugh escapes you instantly.

And the relief that flashes across his face at the sound of it is almost embarrassing in its intensity.

Like hearing you laugh physically keeps him alive now.

You settle onto the edge of his bed while Sukuna kneels in front of you again, towel draped carefully over your head before he starts drying your hair with surprising gentleness.

The intimacy of it nearly undoes you. Because Sukuna touches you now like he’s aware you can bruise.

“You really got on your knees in the middle of the street,” you mumble again while he works carefully through damp strands.

He exhales quietly through his nose.

“Yeah i did”

“Yeah?”

You glance down at him finally.

His pink hair still damp. Sleeves pushed up slightly. Eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them before.

“You looked one second away from proposing.”

That actually gets a laugh out of him. Its small and rough around the edges but its real.

“Would’ve if you kept walking away.”

Your chest tightens painfully at how honest he says it. No ego. Just truth.

“You’re insane,” you whisper.

Sukuna’s hands still briefly in your hair.

“Probably.”

He disappears for a moment after that before returning with one of his hoodies.

Black. Too big. Still warm from the dryer somehow.

“Put this on.”

You take it slowly, fingers brushing his accidentally. Sukuna’s breath catches so softly you almost miss it.

Almost.

By the time you finish changing in his bathroom, the rain outside has softened into a quiet steady rhythm against the windows.

When you step back into his room wearing his hoodie, Sukuna looks up from where he’s sitting against the headboard.

And completely freezes.

Your stomach flips instantly beneath the intensity of his stare.

“What?”

Sukuna blinks once like he’s trying to recover from a thought.

Then he says,

“Nothing.”

A beat.

“You just look really good in my clothes.”

Heat crawls immediately into your face.

“You’re annoying.”

“You love it.”

The words leave him easily. Then suddenly both of you go quiet. Because that means something different now. His expression softens afterward.

Like he’s still getting used to the idea that he’s finally allowed to say things like that openly.

“C’mere,” he says quietly after a moment.

You go without hesitation.

And Sukuna visibly melts the second you settle against him. Actually melts.

His arms wrap around you carefully at first before tightening slowly, like he’s still convincing himself this is real.

Your head rests against his chest while the steady sound of his heartbeat fills the quiet room between rainfall and distant music downstairs.

And for the first time in weeks, neither of you feels restless.

Sukuna presses a lingering kiss against the top of your head.

Then another. Like he can’t stop.

“You know,” you mumble sleepily against his chest after a while, “Gojo’s never letting you live this down.”

Sukuna groans softly above you.

“I’ll kill him tomorrow.”

“You cried in the rain for me.”

“I said don’t tell people that.”

A tired laugh slips from your chest.

And Sukuna’s arms tighten around you immediately at the sound.

Silence settles softly after that and this time its Warm.

Outside, the storm finally passes.

Inside, Sukuna keeps one arm around your waist while his fingers trace absentminded patterns against your skin beneath oversized sleeves.

Still touching you like he’s afraid this might disappear by morning.

But it won’t.

And this time,

when he reaches for you,

you reach back. ♡

note:AHHHH i know that this took so long, but i didn’t want to rush it, i needed some time to think because i wanted it to be as realistic as it can be 😭

Also thank you to the reader who gave me the idea for the rain scene in the comments in the previous part. This is the last part but I’ll post some drabbles for this couple <3 it was so hard to fit 12k words in one post omg , tell me what you think??

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