description -> there wasn't much you and frat boy!sukuna ryomen had in common...except your mutual disdain for partner projects. (un)luckily for the two of you, fate has a way of bringing together the seemingly incompatible. but as the project continues and studying sessions involve less and less studying, you both discover you're learning more about yourselves than the subject matter at hand...
word count -> 2.2k
cw -> yearning || mutual pining || like, medium burn? || eventual smut || drinking || smoking || cursing || mean sukuna (but only if you squint) || side frat!gojo x nerd!reader || jealousy
part one || part two || part three
You held the grading rubric between your fingers as you chewed on your bottom lip. The fate of your semester sat typed across in Georgia font size 11, bolded, as if to taunt you.
Partner project.
And the semester had been going so smoothly, too.
“I already know what you all are thinking, but this will be a good exercise in collaboration, and integrating both partners' ideas into a final project, which, I will remind you, is worth a significant portion of your grade.” Your professor surveyed the room, eyes settling on you with a pointed stare before continuing to roam.
So you tended to fly solo for most work in the class. It was always easier to do it yourself and pen another’s name on the final piece than actually try and work around another person’s ideas that were, frankly, never very good. Senior year had brought about a level of disengagement only rivaled by watching paint dry, and with a class filled with students who were simply here to fulfill a graduation requirement, the dedication to assignments and due dates were waning by the second.
Not for you though. Straight A’s were second nature, and your very best was put into every sentence, edit, and submission, regardless of how much or little of your grade it was worth. If parent-teacher conferences existed past primary school, your professors would say you’re a joy to have in class.
“This will also be a great opportunity for those of us who are…struggling with certain aspects of the class to get some help from students who have a strong grasp of the concepts we’ve learned so far.” Your professor continued on, this time his eyes flitting up to the back rafters of the room, presumably where the target audience for his last message sat themselves.
Sukuna, seated in the furthest row back, smirked as he leaned over, punching his snoozing classmate's shoulder. “He’s talking about you, dumbass.”
Toji awoke with a gruff and frown, crossing his arms and slouching back down in his chair. “Whatever, like you’re doing any better than me.”
Sukuna rolled his eyes, but knew in the back of his mind what Toji said was true. He was failing this class, badly. And with the pledging season ramping up, and practice taking up his weeknights and weekends, he couldn’t afford to flunk and miss graduation because of some stupid distribution requirement that barely counted toward his major. So, if he had to strongarm some weakling into acing this project for the both of them, he’d have no problem doing so. It’s worked for most of his college experience anyway.
Meanwhile, you let out a small sigh. It was one thing to be able to choose someone semi-competent to work with, but it was another to get saddled with a partner whose load you’d have to shoulder as well. Unfortunately, given the extensive amount of time you’ve spent in office hours, there’s no way your professor would mistake your writing tone for anyone else’s, which meant it would be obvious if you completed the assignment yourself without partner input.
As you were considering the ethics of dumbing down your own writing to make it sound unlike your voice, your thoughts were interrupted by someone clearing their throat and calling out your name. You looked up over the frame of your glasses frames to see a tall, pink haired guy standing over you, a neutral, yet menacing look on his face.
“I’m Sukuna.”
You gave him a once over. Tattoos crept up his neck, thick bands of ink peeking from underneath his hoodie. With glints of silver in his eyebrows, a bag thrown haphazardly over his shoulder (presumably empty), a devil-may-care attitude enshrouded his frame. Besides passing by in the hallway, you may have seen him three times this whole semester, including this very moment.
You sighed, standing up to introduce yourself. You extended your hand, asking, “So, I’m assuming we’re partners?”
His eyebrow twitched upwards, and his hands remained stagnant, ignoring your outreach. “Would I be talking to you if we weren’t?”
Ouch. Admittedly, maybe it wasn’t the smartest question, but you weren’t expected to be met with such hostility. “Okay then.” You drew back your hand, awkwardly rubbing your palm on your jeans. “Do you want to head to the library? We can talk about how we’re going to divide the work there,” you turned to gather your bag, closing your folders and straightening your supplies.
“Actually, I was thinking you could handle the project.”
You paused. Glancing over your shoulder, you replied coldly, “Excuse me?”
“Y’know, you seem pretty into this class, and,” he started, gesturing vaguely to your meticulously written notes you hadn’t packed away yet. “l just figured you’d want to get a good grade on it, ‘nd the best way would be if you just…took the lead.”
A beat passed. “You mean, if I did the whole project?”
Sukuna shrugged. “Probably easier on the both of us.”
An indignant laugh fell from your mouth before you could control its slip. Finishing group assignments alone wasn’t completely out of your wheelhouse, but never had someone been so bold as to request you to do it themselves, especially to your face. Normally they’d make a half-assed attempt before you swooped in and edited their portion before submission. But you couldn’t believe he had the nerve to actually ask you to do his work. “Are you serious?” You let out, still leering at him from over your shoulder.
He rolled his eyes, adjusting his grip on his bag. “Listen, I’ve got a lot of shit going on with practice and my frat, and I don’t have time to sit and do this. My buddy tells me you’re top of the class anyways, so if you do it for the both of us, you don’t have to worry about me bringing your grade down, or whatever.”
You nodded, “Right.” You zipped your bag shut with a sense of finality. “And you’ll be guaranteed a passing grade.” You leaned up, drawing your books close to your chest.
“Yeah, that too.” He paused, scanning your face for a response. “So, you’re good to do the assignment?”
You gave him a small smile, not letting it reach your eyes. “No.”
He blinked. Did he mishear you? “No?”
Maybe it was pride. The idea of rejecting this man who probably hadn’t been told “no” day in his life seemed so delicious at that moment. Or maybe it was anger in the fact that he thought so little of you, he figured you’d acquiesce so easily to his request. But perhaps you knew deep down if you tried to finish the assignment by yourself, your professor would notice immediately and fail the both of you anyway. Either or, you reveled in the stunned look across Sukuna’s face, the smile on your face growing a size smaller.
You shook your head. “Yes, I said no. As in, no, I won’t be completing this project alone. We’re partners, so you’re going to help me.”
And stunned he was. He couldn’t remember the last time this didn’t work for him. He knew the reputation he had on campus - trouble maker, rough around the edges, and accustomed to getting what he wants, regardless of the measures he had to take to get there. Most people wanted something from him, whether it was to be left alone or invited to parties, and he was more than happy to give it to him, as long as he got what he wanted in return. But he could tell from the convicted tone in your voice that nothing he offered was going to sway you to see his side of things. He considered the ethics of taking a strongarm approach to persuade you when you started speaking again.
“I’ll be in the library on Saturday at 8 in the morning so we can start working. I assume you know where that is?”
His face quickly dropped to a scowl. “I’m not an idiot. I know where the damn library is.”
“Perfect, this is already going better than I anticipated.” You handed him a light blue scrap of paper with a number inked in a swoopy, swirling font. “That’s my number. Text me so I have yours. Don’t be late.” With that, you brushed past him, heading to your next class, leaving Sukuna standing in confusion, a small, muttered, “the fuck?” barely reaching your ears as you exited the classroom.
|||
“Who the fuck is at the library by 8 in the morning? Didn’t even know it was open that early.” Sukuna muttered, his face contorting as he lifted the last bit of weight above his chest, reracking the bar. The metal clattered against itself as he dropped his hands back on his chest, exhausted. “She’s fucking crazy.”
Toji laughed at his misfortune. “She’s bluffing for sure. A girl like that won’t drag her grade down for your sorry ass. Just don’t show up. Trust, she’ll finish the work herself.”
Gojo leaned up from the bench beside Sukuna, breathing heavily from finishing his set.“You’re a real dick, you know that?” He threw his towel at Toji’s face before turning his attention to Sukuna. “God forbid you do one assignment before you graduate. Just one. Honestly, respect to her for making you do some actual work. The only thing I’ve ever seen you put effort into was the gym.”
“Fuck off, man.” Sukuna grumbled. Standing from the bench, he started to gather his items, shoving them into his gym bag. “Just can’t believe I’m gonna spend half this semester working on this stupid fucking project. Dumb as shit.”
“Welcome to college. Please, join the rest of us plebians who actually do our own work.” Satoru snickered, clapping his hands on Sukuna’s back. “You’re the one being stupid. Think of it this way: is she cute?”
Sukuna straightened up, pausing. Were you cute? He didn’t actually pay attention when he was politely suggesting his idea to divvy up the workload, but when he thought about it for a half second, you weren’t bad to look at. With your oversized sweater in a deep red color, and your hair done up in that style he liked, with your big frames accentuating your even bigger round eyes, and lip gloss swiped across your lips, he realized that, yeah, you were pretty cute to look at.
Really cute, actually.
“Yeah, I guess.” He answered Gojo, nodding his head to the guy at the front desk of the gym. He pushed open the glass doors, leading to the crisp night air as they began their trek home across campus.
“Perfect! You have someone cute to look at while you work. It’s all about perspective, man.” Gojo tapped his finger to his chin, pretending to think. “Wait a second. So she’s smart, and a cutie? Sounds exactly like my type. Do you think you can put in a good word for me?”
Sukuna scoffed. “So you can fuck then leave her on read the next day? No way. I need her to actually tolerate me for the rest of the semester.” He ignored Gojo’s feigned look of indignance before he added, “Besides, I doubt she’d be interested in someone like you.”
Before Gojo could get out his outcry of a protest, Toji’s voice suddenly cut through their conversation. “That’s her, right?”
Both their heads swiveled in the direction of where Toji pointed. In the illuminated building across the path, glass paned windows enclosing the space, there you sat, the soft glowing lights of the table lamps casting a shadow over your face as you diligently worked, head down, pen scribbling into a notebook. Despite the girls he presumed to be your friends giggling at something on one of their phones, you were immune to the rest of the world as you mindlessly mouthed the words you were reading, nodding to yourself as you processed the material. Unmistakably, it was you. “Yup.” Sukuna answered.
The three men stared shamelessly before Toji whispered, “Damn. She is cute.”
“Really cute, actually.” Gojo whispered, his smile stretching across his face.
Sukuna scowled as he hit the back of their heads. “Stop staring at my partner, dumbass.” The reprimanded men shot their own scowls back, grumbling as they continued to walk back to their house. Sukuna casted on last glance at you in the library, and was momentarily taken aback to see you look up and back at him. He held your gaze for another second before whipping out his phone, shooting a text from the number he saved earlier that day.
| told you i knew where the library was
Your reply came a few moments later.
| 8 AM. Don’t be late.
Sukuna scoffed at your ignoring of the joke, but by the time he looked up again, you had already refocused on your work, going so far as to put headphones on, drowning out him and the noise of the surrounding world.
As Sukuna turned to catch up with Toji and Gojo, he blew out a small breath in disbelief. He was going to have a long semester ahead of him.
And yet, despite that, he couldn’t keep a small smile from forming on his face.
description -> there wasn’t much you and frat boy!sukuna ryomen had in common…except your mutual disdain for partner projects. (un)luckily for the two of you, fate has a way of bringing together the seemingly incompatible. but as the project continues and studying sessions involve less and less studying, you both discover you’re learning more about yourselves than the subject matter at hand…
word count -> 4.2k
cw -> yearning || mutual pining || like, medium burn? || eventual smut || drinking || smoking || cursing || mean sukuna (but only if you squint) || side frat!gojo x nerd!reader || jealousy
part two || part three || part four
Shoko’s arms wrapped around your body like a python, her grip squeezing your arms by your sides. “I’m so proud of you!” The momentum of her hug and its subsequent release sent you stumbling back a few steps, causing you to run into the person behind you. You mumbled out an apology before quickening your pace, catching up to Shoko and Utahime as they walked to the parking lot. “Look at you, standing up for yourself. Told ya it would work!” Shoko seemed more proud of the advice she gave rather than the efforts you put in to talk down the hulking 6 '4 man that was your partner.
You had recounted your first study session with your friends when you caught up to them lounging around the quad outside, basking in the autumnal weather. Not only could they not believe the states he showed up in, but they were also even more surprised that he riled you up so much that you berated him in the library. “Ugh, I wish someone got it on film. I see the viral headline now: “Local Girl SHOVES IT in Cocky Frat Boy’s Face! He Gets EXACTLY What He Deserves! End Is Shocking!” Shoko said, stretching her palms out across the air, miming a running news headline.
Utahime gently patted you on the shoulder. “Always knew you could do it.” You shot her a grateful smile as you approached her car. As usual, Shoko called shotgun, throwing herself into the seat and immediately scrambling to grab the aux cord before anyone else could grab it. Shoko’s music softly played through the stereo as Utahime pulled out of the parking lot, beginning the drive to your apartment to drop you off.
As you buckled yourself in the back, Shoko’s eyes peered back at you from the rearview mirror. “Y’know, as a reward for being such a brave, strong girl,” she teased, prompting you to roll your eyes, “you should join us out tonight! Please, please, please!” She craned her body around in the chair, her hands coming together in a praying motion. “You never come out with us anymore, and Hime and I are simply dying to club with you.”
You looked over at Utahime, who looked back at you with a hopeful desperation. “Please, it would be so fun if you came. A group of us is heading to Tengen’s, they’re serving $3 well drinks until 11.”
You sighed. “Guys, I don’t know, I have a meeting tomorrow at 8, and my tutoring session afterwards…” You trailed off.
“Ok, one, respectfully, fuck those kids.” Utahime took her right hand off the wheel to chide Shoko with a slap to her shoulder. “Two, who schedules a meeting at 8 AM on a Sunday? Are you going to mass?”
“Oh my God, 8 AM is really not that early.”
Utahime shrugged. “It’s a little early.”
“Whatever. The point is,” Shoko interjected, waving her hands as if to fan away the previous conversation. “We miss going out with our favorite person ever, and we need to make every weekend count. I mean, it’s senior year, we won’t ever be this young and hot again.” Shoko groaned, tossing her head back against the car seat headrest.
“I’m sorry, Sho, but maybe next weekend?” You offered.
Shoko crossed her arms, huffing to herself and slouching in the seat. “You’re no fun.”
Utahime tried to be the voice of reason. “It’s not her fault she has stuff to do over the weekend, unlike some people.” She directed her tone toward her pouting copilot. “Besides, she will most definitely be coming out for Halloween this year.” She gave you a pointed look in the mirror.
You nodded. “I promise. Halloween.”
As they dropped you off in front of your apartment building, waving goodbye through the window, you searched for your keys in your purse, pushing your door open and exhaling as you entered your cozy sanctuary. The familiar purr of your kitten, Miso, greeted you, her soft paws padding against the floor as she rushed to entangle herself between your legs.
“Hi, baby,” you cooed, scoping her up, nestling her against your chest. “Hi! Did you miss me?”
She pawed at her nose in response. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You surmised. You quickly dropped your bags by your couch, sinking into the soft cushions, and began stroking her fur as she settled in your lap. You looked around at your apartment, the quiet hum of the fridge and radiator filling the silence, lulling you into a state of content. You sighed. “Miso, be honest. Am I boring?”
Your cat stared up at you unblinkingly, her silence deafening.
“Yeah, don’t answer that.” You said, resigned, as you reached for your bag to begin your lesson plan for tomorrow.
|||
“One more shot! One more shot!”
Sukuna heard the chants from the contingent of men downstairs in his kitchen growing louder with every passing minute. Undoubtedly, hard liquor was flowing at a rate that would be concerning to any medical professional within a 20-mile radius. Any other night, he would have been down there, downing shot after shot and shotgunning a seltzer as his chaser, the chapter’s cheers egging him on.
But here he was, at his desk, in his room, trying to concentrate to finish these stupid readings for this stupid fucking project.
He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. “Holy fuck,” he muttered. He rested his head on his left hand, his fingers pressed against his temple and jaw, glancing at the clock in the corner of his room, the hands reading twelve minutes past ten. The few hours he had spent studying had felt like an eternity. “Don’t understand how people do this shit,” he mumbled to himself.
After his nap in the library, he hit a quick gym session, then came back to the frat house to get started on his work. But three pool games and six beers later, time had escaped him. He cursed at himself and raced up the stairs to start and finish the readings in a self-imposed seclusion. He wasn’t even sure how much of anything he understood, given he wasn’t totally sober when he read. But as he prepared to hunker down and skim the last few pages of the first reading, a pounding knock came at his door.
“What?” He yelled through the wall, not turning away from his desk. He heard his door open, and two pairs of footsteps enter his room without permission. He hung his head and groaned.
Gojo’s white head of hair entered his peripheral vision before his voice did. “Sukie-poo, whatcha doin’?” He asked in a saccharine, teasing tone.
Sukuna pushed his head away from him. “The fuck does it look like I’m doin’? Reading.”
Toji scoffed, and Sukuna glared at him from over his shoulder. “She’s got your ass reading? I’ve got to meet this girl.”
Sukuna flipped him off, fully spinning around in his chair to face the two imbeciles he called friends. “Oh, go fuck yourself. Did you want something, or did you come here to piss me off?”
“The latter, primarily,” Gojo answered. “But since we have your attention now, you should know there’s a handle downstairs with your name written on it, just begging to be finished.” Gojo’s eyes twinkled a mischievous blue as he continued. “Some of the Tri Delt girls invited us out to Tengen’s tonight. I think a certain someone is hoping you’ll show face,” he said coyly, raising his brows.
Sukuna groaned. “Jesus, what part of one night stand isn’t clear?” Sukuna felt he had been pretty direct in how they wrapped things up this morning. He liked to have a little fun here and there, but most girls knew the deal when it came to him: all casual, no strings attached, no feelings, especially with girls he only planned on seeing once. For fuck’s sake, they didn’t even exchange socials, let alone numbers. Honestly, he knew it was such a douche move, but he couldn’t even remember her name, so the last thing he wanted to do was see her in a bar.
Toji tsked. “Shouldn’t’ve let her stay the night,” Toji shrugged. “I told you. Gives them the wrong idea. Fucks ‘em up in the head.”
“And have done what? Made her walk home at 3 in the morning? I wasn’t about to do that shit.” Sukuna said, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I wasn’t about to get my ass up out of bed to walk her home, either.”
“You both are pigs. Just deplorable. How can you talk about our lovely sorority sisters like this? What kind of behavior is this showcasing to our poor pledges?” Gojo asked, gesturing downstairs where the cheers were growing louder as another round of shots went around.
Sukuna snorted. “Says the number one campus whore. It’s a miracle they still invite you anywhere, considering you’ve fucked half the chapter.”
Gojo just smiled in response. “It’s in the stunning looks and charming personality, my friend. I’m afraid I can’t help you on those fronts, but always willing to advise the less fortunate.”
Despite himself, Sukuna let out a small chuckle. “Man, whatever. Can you all get lost?” He swiveled back around in his chair. “I’ve got to finish reading about…whatever the fuck this dude’s talking about.”
Toji and Gojo approached his desk, reading over his shoulder to examine the thick stack of papers in front of Sukuna. Gojo pointed down at the byline of the article Sukuna was attempting to finish reading. “That author is a woman, by the way.”
Toji let out a loud laugh. “Dude, you’re so fucked. I bet you couldn’t even tell me anything you just read about,” he paused, leaning closer to skim the paper, “meta-issues in literary criticism.”
Sukuna didn’t even bother responding to Toji because he knew it was true. He wasn’t sure if he could say anything of substance about the past few pages he’d skimmed - it was all gibberish to him. “Why and how do you know that the author is a woman?” He asked Gojo tiredly.
Gojo shrugged. “We studied some of her work in my Women, Gender, and Sexuality classes.”
The room paused as Sukuna and Toji stared blankly at Gojo. “Are…are you deadass?” Toji asked dumbly.
“Guys, I’ve been a WGS minor for, like, two years.”
Another pause as they took in what their friend just shared with them. “You actually impress me for how far you’re willing to go to maximize your whoreness on campus,” Sukuna responded, shaking his head. “Now, seriously, get out. I have to focus, and I feel myself lose braincells whenever I’m around you both for too long.”
Toji scoffed. “Don’t be dumb. You don’t actually have to finish the readings. Just pretend you did, and get her to explain them to you.”
Sukuna side-eyed him. “What do you mean?”
“When you guys meet up again, just be like, ‘Yeah, I did the readings, but they didn’t make any sense. Can you explain them to me?” Toji said, feigning confusion in his tone. “And then you’re off scot free. Girls love explaining shit when you say it like that.”
Gojo looked between the two men with a sense of amazement, like one watching two wild animals learning how to communicate with each other. “We live life so differently, it astounds me sometimes.”
They both ignored Gojo. “I don’t want her to think I’m an idiot,” Sukuna said.
Toji clapped his hand on his shoulder. “I promise you, she already thinks that.” With his other hand, he shut the books previously left haphazardly on Sukuna’s desk. “Now c’mon. You’re already behind, and there’s like five shots downstairs that are calling your name.”
Sukuna stood up, defeated. “Whatever. But when she kills me, I’m coming back to life to strangle the two of you.”
|||
You sat in your normal spot in the library, two cups of coffee steaming in front of you. Your latte seemed so small compared to the large, black coffee you ordered for Sukuna. You debated ordering him anything when you stopped by your favorite café on the way to campus. It felt strange; you weren’t friends, by any means. You were barely acquaintances, and if the session today went as poorly as it did yesterday, you would be a step closer to being adversaries.
You hoped he’d seen the coffee as your way to make good on the commitment to working together. Whether the two of you liked it or not, you were going to be spending a lot of time with one another, and the least you could do was be civil. Besides, back-to-back 8 AM meetings are exhausting, so you figured you might as well bring some fuel to get you both through the day.
As you fidgeted with your cup in your hands, you heard footsteps approach you. You turned to see Sukuna casually strolling toward your table. He exchanged yesterday’s black hoodie for a grey one, accompanied by loose-fitting jeans and a black beanie, with little pink tufts of hair peeking out from underneath. The bags under his eyes were noticeable, but he looked considerably better than he did yesterday.
“Good morning,” you greeted as he sat in the chair opposite you. “Thanks for being on time.”
He grunted in response. Again, better than the nod you received yesterday, but it let you know he was, at the very least, cognizant. You frowned, but pushed on, unperturbed. “I’m hoping we get a good amount done since we didn’t really do much yesterday, and I’m gonna have to head out around 9:30 for a commitment.”
He nodded, barely listening to what you were saying. The last round of shots from the previous night had finally caught up to him, and a headache pounded against his frontal lobe as he leaned over his bag to get his stuff. You, unaware of the hangover Sukuna was fighting against, continued to prattle on, talking about your initial thoughts for where they should begin, before he interrupted as his eyes landed on exactly what he needed in that moment. “Is that for me?”
Your eyes traveled downwards to where he pointed, the coffee still hot and on the table. “Oh, yes. I got it for you.”
He paused, staring up at you. “Why?”
Your eye widened like a child who had just been caught red-handed. You felt a blush creep up your neck, blossoming on your cheeks. “Well, I just – I mean, it’s early, and I was already getting one for myself. So I just figured…” You trailed off, your voice diminishing as you lost confidence.
Sukuna only blinked, his silence raising your anxiety. “It’s nothing, really. It was so cheap. I just got a black coffee. I figured that's what you drink. Not that I think about that a lot. Your coffee order, I mean. Just took a guess. A wild guess. Because you seem like the kind of guy who drinks black coffee,” you stumbled out. He raised a brow, and you felt your mouth fall open before you could stop it. “Not that that’s a good or bad thing! I just didn’t think – I assumed you weren’t a latte kind of guy. But no judgment, of course, if you are. I just thought, coffee might be nice. Y’know, because, it’s early and whatever. But maybe it was stupid. I’ll just toss it.” You rambled, reaching out to grab the drink before you embarrassed yourself further.
“No, it’s chill.” He reached out, grasping the cup and taking a swig. “Thanks,” he said, laughing under his breath.
“No problem. Forget about it, and everything else I just said, please.” You chuckled shakily, feeling the sudden urge to shoot yourself in the foot. You already knew this exact scenario would haunt you for the next few weeks, and you shivered at the thought of reliving such an embarrassing event.
“Already done,” he said in between sips. “Black coffee is my order, by the way. In case you wanna keep this exchange up,” he chided.
He laughed to himself as your entire face dropped. You sucked your teeth, turning back to the papers on the table. “Y’know, you know how to ruin a good thing. I was just trying to be nice. Don’t expect that anymore.”
“If this is you nice, I’d hate to see you on a bad day. Or was it your bad day yesterday when you yelled at me in the library?” He ribbed, eyes shining with provocation as he leaned forward.
“Anyways,” you started again, ignoring him and changing the subject. “Were you able to finish the readings?”
He settled back in his chair, not meeting your eyes as he studied his coffee cup. “Yeah, for the most part.”
“Right…and what do you mean by that?”
“I mean, I finished most of the readings.”
Your jaw ticked. “Define most.”
“Dunno, like, 70%, maybe,” he took another sip before setting the cup down. “I just don’t fully understand what they were going on about.”
“They, being the authors?”
“Yeah. Just feels like they're rambling. Tryna hit a word count or something.”
You leaned back in the chair, crossing your arms, matching his disengaged posture. You stared hard at the man across from you. “Ok. Well, why don’t you tell me what you did understand?”
“Like I told you, not much.”
“That’s fine. Just give me a summary of something you read. Literally anything. I’ll take a sentence.” You pressed.
Internally, Sukuna cursed Toji and Gojo for convincing him to go out last night. You saw through his bullshit the second he started talking, just like he knew you would. “I’m telling you, I really didn’t understand much. You wouldn’t mind explaining some of the concepts to me?” Sukuna asked, his hand reaching out for the coffee cup again.
You huffed in response, snatching the cup away from him before he could grab it. “You liar! You didn’t read anything!”
He groaned, throwing his head back. “Oh my God, give me a break. You gave me a day to do weeks of reading! And for the record, I didn’t lie. I did read some, I just didn’t understand shit.”
“Perfect, so now I’m working with someone lazy and who lacks reading comprehension,” You growled out. “You may as well be illiterate.”
Sukuna rolled his eyes at your hurled insults. “C’mon, just give me the coffee back, and we can start working.”
You shook your head. “No, coffee is for people who can actually contribute to a group project. Coffee is for responsible adults. Coffee is for people who can read and comprehend and analyze text, like any eighth-grader off the street.” You grabbed your highlighted, annotated readings and slapped them on the desk in front of him. “But since you seem incapable of even that, I’m going to sit here and watch you read, and make sure you know what’s going on. Then, and only then, can you have your coffee.”
“Watch me read? What, like a child?”
“Well, if the shoe fits.”
Sukuna scoffed. “‘M not gonna want that shit then. It’ll be cold by the time I’m finished.”
You cocked your head to the side and gave a rude smile. “Then I guess you'd better read fast.”
|||
“Geez, he sounds worse than Yuuji,” Yuki said.
“Hey!” Itadori’s head launched up as he cried out indignantly. “At least I do my work.” He turned toward you. “Sorry, miss, your partner sounds like a real piece of work.”
After your disastrous meeting with Sukuna, you headed out to your volunteering position, where you tutored high school students in a variety of subjects. You needed something to round out your community service hours, but you weren't expecting to fall in love with the center, its mission, and the students that passed through each weekend. You also weren’t expecting to meet Yuki, a bright and sometimes scarily inappropriate girl who went to the same college as you. From your first tutoring session, you became fast friends, and you looked forward to her debriefs about her wild, and often sordid, weekends with her sorority sisters.
“Thanks, Yuuji,” you sighed. Itadori grunted as Yuki rubbed the top of his head aggressively, teasing the high schooler. “I just hope the next few meetings go better.”
Yuki shrugged. “Well, at worst, you just have to treat him like you treat the neanderthals here,” Yuki said, surveying the room of teenagers with playful disgust.
You chuckled. As much as she jests, you know she loves volunteering here. She was always prattling on about the youth being the future, to the point where it made poetic sense that she was pursuing a degree in elementary education. You met when you both started volunteering during your sophomore year of college, and despite seeing kids filter in and out of the weekend program, it was obvious you both carried a special place in your hearts for Idatori, Megumi, and Nobara, your newest students.
“So what? You watched him read for an hour and a half?” Yuki sat, her body facing you but her eyes on Nobara’s paper as she finished solving a problem. “You forgot to do the integral, kid,” She whispered, her polished nail pointing to the missed step in Nobara’s work, prompting the girl to release a groan of annoyance as she furiously began erasing her work.
“Yep. Pretty much. I don’t even do that with them. At least they know better than to show up without having any work done.” You said, exasperated, gesturing vaguely to the room of high schoolers with heads down, diligently working on their assignments. “I’m just not sure what else to do.”
“Do you want my opinion?” You didn’t bother answering; Yuki was going to give it regardless. You looked at her expectantly.
“Don’t change anything. Keep being a hard ass. Most frat guys deserve it anyway.” She paused to look over Nobara’s new work and nodded. “Yeah, nice job, kid. Now do problems 12 and 13 and then come find me to check.” She turned her attention back to you. “Who is the guy, anyway? Maybe I know him. I unfortunately get a lot of face time with the fraternal men on campus.”
You’ve inquired many times why Yuki joined a sorority in the first place, but she’s never given you a straight answer. Nevertheless, you responded. “His name’s Sukuna, but I don’t know what frat –”
“Sukuna? Like, Ryomen Sukuna?” Yuki interrupted, gaping at you.
You nodded. “Yeah, that’s him.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” She shook her head in amazement. “I’ve been begging for someone to knock him off his high horse for years! Didn’t think it’d be you, but I’ll take it.” She nodded to herself, her eyes brightening at the idea of you two working together on a project all semester. “Yeah, you keep doing exactly what you’re doing. Honestly, go harder. He’s probably into it, that sick fuck.”
“Yuki!” You admonished. “Not in front of the kids. Besides, that’s disgusting.”
Yuki tossed out an apology. “Sorry, kids. Focus on your work, we’re having grown-up time right now.” She scooted her stool closer to where you were standing, locking you into conversation, her eyes boring you down. “Listen, Cho and Sukuna are in the same frat. Or, they were, before Cho went inactive. Either way, I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with Sukuna. He’s an absolute dick,” Yuki started.
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”
“But,” Yuki continued.”He’s not a monster. He’s got these walls built up, and not to be an advocate for a male sob story, but he just…takes getting used to. Trust me, he’s still a dick at the end of the day, but, like, a softer one, once you get to know him.”
Yuki’s face curled into a grimace as she heard the snickering high schoolers behind her. She turned around and glared at the three usual suspects. “Excuse me, what did I say? Grown-up conversation over here! Focus on your work!” She thumped them individually on the back of their heads, chastizing them for eavesdropping while you giggled behind your hand at her antics.
“Okay,” she huffed, sitting herself back down after disciplining the students. “Maybe I didn’t word that in the best way, but you get my point. He’s human, and he’s smarter than he looks. And knowing you, you’ve probably lit a fire under his ass the way his coach has been trying to do for years. I think the next session will go better than you think,” she said gently. “Just, keep an open mind, y’know?”
You nodded, appreciative of her advice. “Thanks, Yuki.”
“No problem.” She stood up, getting ready to make her rounds to the tables. “And by the way,” she commented, calling your attention back to her. “I stand by what I said earlier.”
You tipped your head to the side in confusion, and a cat-like grin stretched across her face.
description -> there wasn't much you and frat boy!sukuna ryomen had in common...except your mutual disdain for partner projects. (un)luckily for the two of you, fate has a way of bringing together the seemingly incompatible. but as the project continues and studying sessions involve less and less studying, you both discover you're learning more about yourselves than the subject matter at hand...
word count -> 9.5k
cw -> yearning || mutual pining || like, medium burn? || eventual smut || drinking || smoking || cursing || mean sukuna (but only if you squint) || side frat!gojo x nerd!reader || jealousy || slight angst (but like only a little) || slight angst (but it's so minimal guys i promise)
part four || part five || part six
Change, ironically, was one of the only consistent things in life. You knew this well. You knew this every time the temperature dropped from a sunny seventy-degree day to a brisk fifty, alerting you that summer was on her merry way out. You knew this when you couldn’t spot the green foliage you remembered seeing plastered on your college campus welcome brouchere - grassy and lush, inviting you to bask in it. You knew when you heard the first crunch of the fall leaf underneath your footsteps, autumn’s breeze telling you to cozy up in your sweater.
What you didn’t know was how change could be wrapped up in a 12-oz cup of steaming, hot coffee.
“Is…is that mine?” You pointed hesitantly to the cup sitting in front of your usual seat.
Sukuna glanced down at the cup, then offered a small nod. “Yeah. Hazelnut latte, right?”
You nodded back, dazed. “Yeah.”
You approached the table cautiously, like prey wandering into new territory, your steps soft and small, ready to sprint at any sign of aggression. Despite it being the same table, in the same section of the same library building you both have been working at for weeks, you knew something was different.
Something had changed between you and Sukuna, and you were doing your best not to acknowledge it.
Last week. Last week, and that damn look in his eyes. Last week, and that moment you shared where your world stopped spinning for a millisecond before Sukuna dropped back into his normal routine, as if nothing had happened. As if you could even pretend to be normal about the situation.
But that’s what you resolved to do, right? To ignore. To forget about what happened, to right the natural order of your world that you were familiar with, to continue on the path you’ve so meticulously planned out since you signed your admission contract.
Besides, whatever it was that transpired between you two didn’t seem to affect Sukuna in the slightest.
You heard the rumors. You knew how he typically operated. Loose. Noncommittal. Heartbreakingly devastating to unsuspecting girls who’d get their hopes up. You knew this play; it was a tale as old as time. Men see resistance and think it invites a challenge. They see independence and wonder what it would be like to put you in a cage. He sees you and is fascinated by the first person to call him out on his ridiculous behavior. You knew all of this, and still…
“You – you didn’t get any for yourself?”
Sukuna hummed, shaking his head no. “Nah. Wasn’t feeling coffee this morning.”
You blinked. “So, you got coffee just for me?”
Sukuna stopped typing to look at you. You could see lines of irritation beginning to form. “Don’t be weird. It’s just coffee.”
Don’t be weird? He had to be kidding. What wasn’t weird about this? What wasn’t weird about your texts slowly transitioning from project meeting times to complaints about other classwork? What wasn’t weird about the way he went out of his way to not only remember your latte order, but get one for you while getting nothing for himself? What wasn’t weird about the latte sitting on the table, still steaming, and him getting here early to save you a spot? What wasn’t weird about his chair being mere inches apart from yours, when just last week both of you were wishing you were miles away from each other, anywhere but where you were? What wasn’t weird about this entire situation?
But as you gaped at him, he looked back at you with the same quiet gaze of thinly veiled frustration and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It felt like a challenge, almost a dare, for you to say something about anything that had occurred. But you knew as soon as you did, the papier-mache facade you both had begun tiptoeing around would surely melt, leaving something convoluted and complex to address, which neither of you were ready to do quite yet.
So, you straightened yourself, wiping away any doubt on your face, and gave Sukuna a small smile. “Thanks.”
He gave a gruff nod, then motioned with his head for you to sit down. “Listen, I took a stab at what I think our thesis should be.”
Your eyes widened. “You did? Already?”
“Don’t sound so shocked. You wanna read it and let me know what you think?”
“Sure,” you answered, pulling out your notebook. You pulled his laptop forward, adjusting your glasses as you began to read his work.
Beside you, outside your line of vision, Sukuna’s knee bounced up and down rapidly as he watched you scan his words. He toyed with a pen in his hands while he wondered where the fuck this was coming from. He didn’t get nervous like this before games, before frat meetings, before presentations, even when he didn’t know his parts. But the idea of you reading the first piece of writing he’s put effort into this whole semester?
Yeah, it’s scaring the shit out of him.
Somewhere, between the scoldings and the threats, between the ridiculously early morning meetings and late nights trying to keep up with your intelligence, Sukuna started to care. He cared about this project because you did. He cared about the effort he was putting into it because you needed him to. He got you a coffee because he remembered how, when autumn would roll in, you said you liked to start your day with a warm latte, and how you mentioned liking this cafe right across the street from campus…And maybe it would be the start of an apology for being an absolute dick for the first couple of weeks.
“This is…pretty good, actually,” You started, scanning through his last couple of phrases he’d written.
“Again, don’t sound so shocked. I’m smart when I want to be,” Sukuna said, running a hand through his messy pink hair.
“Well, can that start being all the time, then? I would really appreciate that, it’d make my life easier.”
He scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry about that.”
You paused again, looking at him as if he’d sprouted horns. “An apology? Now look who’s being weird.”
“Forget it. You’re impossible to be nice to,” Sukuna muttered, snatching his computer away from you.
“And, yet, I’m the one sitting here with a free drink.”
Sukuna rolled his eyes, holding his tongue on a retort. “Changing topics now. I wanted to let you know now that we’re probably gonna have to move our meeting next week. I figure we both have plans, and I think even meeting at 10 is still pushing it.”
Your mind raced as you scanned your calendar, trying to remember the plans you potentially had that would conflict with your standing meeting time. You came up blank. “What’s next weekend?”
Sukuna raised his eyebrows. “Are you serious?”
“Please don’t play with me right now. Of course, you know I’m being serious; what’s going on next weekend?”
“Halloween? Happens every year around this time?” He stared at you incredulously.
You groaned, rubbing at your forehead. Of course, with midterm season right around the corner, Halloween was rearing its ugly head in your direction. The faint sound of a promise you made to Shoko and Utahime rang in the back of your mind, and you wrinkled your nose in disgust. “Right. That.”
“Don’t tell me you’re not a fan. You don’t have any crazy Halloween plans?”
“Don’t tell me you’re shocked by that.” You deadpanned at him. “I’m flattered you think so highly of me, but no, I’m probably going to piss my friends off for the umpteenth time and not go out. I like a chill night anyway. I’ll just get some candy for the kids who live around my complex and put on a movie or something.”
You looked over to Sukuna, who had pretended to fall asleep in his hands as you spoke. You flicked his forehead at his nagging. “Hilarious. Call me boring all you want, but I will be having a wonderful weekend inside with Miso.”
“Who the fuck is Miso?”
“My cat.”
“You would have a cat.”
“I know you mean that in a demeaning way, but I’m going to take it as a compliment. Miso is an excellent judge of character.”
Sukuna ignored your previous statement, still repulsed by your foregoing Halloween for plans to stay inside. “How’re you not gonna go out? It’s senior year. Your last Halloween in college. You have to. Don’t be lame.”
“Now you just sound like Shoko,” you muttered, your head resting on your fingers pressed against your temple.
“Don’t know who that is, but I imagine she’s right.” He looked at you seriously before continuing. “Look, my frat’s throwing that Friday. You should come.”
Your head whipped in his direction. “What?”
“Come out on Friday. The house is, like, ten minutes walking from campus.”
“Are you seriously inviting me to a frat party on Friday? Your frat party?”
“Not to burst your bubble, but it’s very normal for a large number of students to go to frat parties for Halloween. It’s kind of textbook college behavior, actually.”
“I know that, it’s just –” you stutter, a million and one excuses running through your head. “I won’t know anyone there.”
“I’ll be there.”
You sucked your teeth. “Not anyone I can talk to.”
“What, you can’t talk to me?”
“Not without you pissing me off every five minutes, no, I can’t.”
“Fine, then bring your friends.” He retorted.
“But I don’t even have a costume.”
He snorted. “Who cares? Half the people who show up aren’t in real costumes anyway. Don’t take it so seriously.”
You wrapped your arms around yourself, sinking into your chair. “I’m not really a partying type of person, okay?” Your voice dipped in volume as you spoke, your eyes looking anywhere but at his face, which you were sure was full of judgment.
“And I wasn’t the type of person who would be in the library at 8 AM on a Saturday, but look how life leads us in crazy directions. And, it sounds like you’re just running out of excuses.”
You felt your face begin to melt into an immature pout. He took in your apprehension and started speaking again. “Listen, go out or don’t go out. I don’t care either way. But just know, my ass will not be here next week. I will be in bed, nursing a hangover and thinking about what a wild last Halloween I had. So when I graduate, and I’m reminiscing about going out with friends, and what I did in my youth, I can remember my senior year Halloween and think to myself, ‘Damn, I had a great time in college.’”
“And what, I wouldn’t have?” You scowled.
“Not with that attitude.”
You scoffed. “Horrible arguments. Just littered with fallacies.”
“Y’know, if you got out of that big head,” he said, poking the center of your forehead, “and let loose for once, you might just actually enjoy yourself.”
You glared at him from above the frames of your glasses, shoving his hand away. “Ha ha. I know how to have a good time and enjoy myself.”
“Then prove it. Come on Friday. Bring your friends.”
“Fine! Maybe I will!” You snapped, turning your body away from Sukuna and facing the table. He tried very hard to bite back the smug grin that pulled his face apart, fighting to conceal the bait and hook he reeled you in with.
“Cool. Text me your friends' names, and I’ll put you on the list.”
“List? What is this, some sort of exclusive invite?”
“Have you ever been to a frat party?”
“I thought you said you could be smart when you wanted to be. What’s with the stupid questions?”
Sukuna only laughed, turning back to face his laptop. “Trust me, you’ll have a good time. I’ll personally ensure it.”
“Right. So what do I get if I don’t enjoy myself?”
He nodded his head toward your cup of coffee. “Just put it on my tab.”
|||
Later that following week, you, Shoko, and Utahime met by the cafe on campus for a midday snack. After finishing a grueling midterm earlier that morning, you were mentally drained and wanted nothing more than to go back to your apartment and relax with your cat. Unfortunately, the demands of being a college student never seemed to end, and you had a horrible feeling you were gonna be stuck on campus much later than you would prefer.
The three of you shimmied into the cushiony booth in the seating area of the cafe. “Soooo,” Shoko dragged out, her head leaning onto your shoulder. “A little birdie reminded me of a promise you made to us a few weeks ago, and it’s time to make good on that promise.” She turned, searching for support in Utahime. “Right, Hime?”
Utahime nodded, sipping on her green tea. “Absolutely. You owe us, with interest, actually.”
You bit your lip. You had oh-so-conveniently neglected to mention the somewhat threatening invitation Sukuna had given you days prior, in hopes your friends would have other plans they’d much rather drag you along to. “Yes, guys, I remember my promise. Where were you thinking about going?”
Shoko sighed. “Honestly, so many of our local haunts have been overrun by underclassmen. Literally, just two weeks ago, I saw Mai Zen’in at Tengen’s. I was like, ‘Aren’t you 17?’” She angrily stirred cream and sugar into her coffee, the liquid sloshing over the side of the cup. “What happened to tradition? I waited years to get into the senior bars, just for freshmen to do it in their first couple of weeks here? Fucking ridiculous.”
Utahime giggled at Shoko’s clear distaste. “You should be a bouncer then. Just stop all the freshmen from getting in. Keep a wall of confiscated fakes in your room like a trophy display.”
Shoko scoffed. “I should. Bouncers aren’t doing their damn jobs anymore.”
You shook your head, shoulders shaking from laughing at your two friends. “Ok, well, what about Star Vessel? I’ve heard good things.”
Shoko waved off your suggestion. “Went last week. Drinks were overpriced and not nearly strong enough. Plus, they charge an insane cover.”
“You cannot fault a bar for its drinks not being strong enough when you’re a tank of a woman, Sho,” you responded, patting her on the shoulder. “I think you can outdrink most guys on campus.”
“A badge I wear with honor,” Shoko puffed out her chest, grinning proudly. “But seriously, what’s the move for Friday? We should figure something out, quickly.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but a voice that wasn’t your own jumped into the conversation before you could. “Why haven’t you texted me yet?”
You flinched, Sukuna’s deep voice holding an irritatingly playful tone. You slowly craned your neck around to see him leaning casually next to your booth, a tall black coffee in his hand. You felt Shoko and Utahime go still beside you as you blinked hard, refusing to make eye contact with either of them. “I already told you, we don’t have to meet this Saturday.” Your words came out stilted and hard as you tried to signal Sukuna to go away.
He, of course, ignored every sign you threw his way. “Not about that. Your friend’s names for the party. We’re finalizing the list, so we need them today if you’re still coming.”
You felt Shoko and Utahime’s heads snap toward you.
“Party?” Shoko glared at you. “Are you serious?”
You hoped your glare at Sukuna was strong enough to put him six feet under. It only seemed to have the reverse effect; his smile growing wider as he brought his coffee up to his lips. He turned his head to face your friends. “Yeah, party on Friday. Unless, of course, your friend here is chickening out.”
You blanched. “Of – of course, I’m not chickening out,” you sputtered.
“We’ll be there!” Utahime jumped in. “You said you needed our names?”
You tuned out the rest of their conversation as Sukuna took down their first and last, shooting a text with all three of your names to whoever was working the door that night. You stared hard at your project partner as he casually slipped his phone back into his pocket, bidding his goodbyes to your friends and strolling away. Without thinking, you slipped out of the booth, ignoring the protests from your friends, and stalked over to Sukuna, catching him before he left the building. “What was that?”
He took another sip of his coffee, feigning nonchalance. “What was what?”
Your lip twitched. “You know what. What was that?” You tilted your head back to your friends, who you were sure were gaping at the two of you, whispering behind your back.
“Nothing. Just making sure you weren’t backing out. You hadn’t texted.”
“Why do you even care what I do on a Friday night anyway?” You hissed, infuriated. “Why can’t you just leave me alone, and let me enjoy my Halloween the way I want to?”
“Maybe I want to see what you look like without the perpetual stick you have up your ass.”
You gasped, your hand shooting out to punch his shoulder. “What the hell is your problem?”
He only laughed. “Okay, it’s still ridiculously easy to piss you off. You’d think after a couple of weeks you’d get used to this.”
“I doubt I will ever get used to a presence as annoying as yours.”
Sukuna bent down to come eye level with you. “Alright, listen, whatever invisible line you’ve drawn in the sand that physically prevents you from enjoying yourself – cross it. Let loose. Be a normal fucking college student and get drunk at a party.” He hiked his bag higher on his shoulder. “You’ve forced me to get comfortable in your environment. Try out mine. You might actually like it.”
You fumed silently, proverbial steam coming off your head. Satisfied with this recommendation, he turned to leave, opening the door outside, letting a slight chill into the otherwise cozy room. “Oh, and don’t get there earlier than 11. That’s lame.”
“You fucking bitch.” Shoko glared at you as you sat back down. “You’ve been holding out on us!”
You sighed. “Guys, please, I – ”
“You don’t tell us shit! Who your partner is, the party on Friday, the sexual tension between you two? It’s like we’re not even friends anymore!” Shoko flops dramatically onto Utahime’s shoulder, who coddles her affectionately.
Utahime looks at you with fake, sad eyes. “It’s like you hate us both.”
“What – I do not – we do not have tension!” You blundered out.
“You two have the type of tension that romantic comedies dream of. Don’t be dumb.” Shoko sobered up, reaching for her coffee. “I just can’t believe you didn’t mention your partner was Sukuna. Not that I subscribe to this stuff, but he’s kind of a big deal on campus.”
“Don’t remind me,” you groaned. “He has an ego the size of a god. I’ve been dealing with it all semester.”
Shoko squeezed her eyes closed, letting out a slow breath. “I want you to know that just now, I could’ve made a really funny, inappropriate joke, but I elected not to, and you should be really proud of me.”
Utahime consoled her. “I am proud of you, Sho.” She turned to you. “I am also proud of you for giving us a move for Halloween! In return, just know, your Halloween costume is already taken care of.”
You wished this news filled you with a sense of relief, but instead, you felt like you had just swallowed a pit of a stone fruit. “Oh. Thanks. May I ask, what is the costume?”
Shoko and Utahime both gave you a mischievous smile. “You’ll see at the pre on Friday. You’re gonna look soooo good.”
|||
“Where’s the rest of it?”
Shoko and Utahime’s giggles were drowned out by the music blaring in the background from your speaker. “That’s the costume, babe.” Utahime was already flushed red from the few shots she’d taken while pregaming at your apartment. Any other moment, you would’ve been concerned with her shockingly low alcohol tolerance and how much more of the night you all had to go, but your thoughts were tied up in the stringy, draping white fabric your friends were trying to pass off as a costume.
“No, guys, be serious.” You turned in the mirror, looking at the amount of skin exposed. “Where’s the rest of the costume?”
The outfit was cute, you couldn’t lie. The white, backless dress had a beautiful, subtle shimmer to it when it caught the light. It fell to you mid-thigh, the fabric kissing your skin, but not suffocating you with clinginess. Utahime had gotten here early, spending a few painstaking hours painting your back in shades of white, silver, and black, adorning you with a pair of wings that the dress showcased like art in a museum.
“Ohmigod, stop being a baby!” Shoko draped herself over your figure, looking you up and down in the mirror. “It’s Halloween! Do I have to quote Cady Heron to you? Our goal tonight is to look hot, get drunk, and have a good time, and so far, you’ve only checked one of those three boxes.”
Utahime’s figure appeared in the mirror, balancing three shots between her dainty fingers. “Exactly. And since you already look hot, courtesy of Shoko and me, thank you very much, let’s work on getting you drunk.” She passed the shots around, shaking her hips to the song in the background.
You took the shot from her hand, grimacing slightly. “Ugh. To being young and hot, I suppose.”
“To being young and hot!” Shoko screeched in your ear. You all downed the shot, Shoko shaking her head to stave off the burn while Utahime immediately reached for her chaser of juice behind her. You coughed, then turned your head to the door, where you heard a knock. Excusing yourself from the two girls, you slid over to the door, opening to see Yuki in all-black: a halter top and mini skirt, paired with skull-crushing black combat boots.
She gives you a once-over and grins, her smile matching the cat ears on her head. “Oh, babe, you look sexy. But you are not drunk enough for this party.” She holds up another handle, to which you hear Shoko squeal in excitement, while Utahime sinks into a chair. “Bottoms up, bitches.”
With Yuki’s arrival came too many rounds of shots and audible levels of screaming that had you worried about noise complaints the next morning. But as the pregame progressed, you felt yourself slipping more and more into a relaxed state, the warmth of the alcohol making your steps light and your smile lazy. Almost without you noticing, Yuki had rallied the three of you out your door, locking your apartment behind you, and began the walk, arms interlinked, to the frat house, giggles and shrieks of a good time carrying you there along the way.
Your eyesight was a little hazy around the corners, but you were still cognizant enough to see the stares your group was getting. Their lingering gazes made us pull down your dress. “Guys, I think people are looking at us.”
Utahime turned her stare over to you, her eyes glassy with the buzz of drinks. “C’mere, I have a secret to tell you, ‘kay?” You leaned in as she cupped her hand around your ear. “Everyone is staring because you’re hot!”
You laughed unabashedly, pushing her from your face as you stumbled forward, away from the cackles and cheers from Yuki and Shoko in agreement.
“Oh, I cannot wait for the look on Sukuna’s face when he sees you,” Shoko jested, her eyes roaming up and down your frame again. “He’s not gonna know what to do with himself.”
You flushed, unsure if it came from Shoko’s comment, the alcohol, or the chill of the night. “Why would you bring him up? He’s not gonna care what I look like.”
Shoko looked back at Yuki and Utahime. “How cute. She’s playing dumb.”
Yuki glanced between you and Shoko. “Hold up. Did I miss something? What happened to you and Sukuna hating each other?”
You played with the halo headband on your head. “‘M not playing dumb. And you haven’t missed anything, Yuki. Shoko’s just being stupid. He’s not even gonna notice me there.”
Shoko caught up to you, patting your halo on top of your head, which you had just fixed. “Oh, you sweet summer child. Bless you.”
You shoved her hand away as Yuki and Utahime caught up to match your pace. “We’re almost there,” Yuki commented.
You believed her. You heard the party before you could see it. Bass reverberated through the damp ground underneath your soles, and flashing lights peeked between the windows that weren’t obscured by dancing bodies and Halloween decorations. A couple of smaller guys, pledges, you presumed, stood guard by the door, clipboards in hand, patrolling a line of students outside, vying to get in that stretched a couple of dozen meters back.
Shoko whistled. “Damn, this is the line to get in?”
Yuki scoffed. “Yeah, if you’re lame.” With the confidence of a bull, she grabbed your hand, stepping through and around disgruntled underclassmen, approaching the pledges at the front of the door. “Hi,” she said sweetly, twisting a lock of blonde hair around her manicured finger. “My friends and I are on the list. Do you need my name?”
The pledge barely glanced at his clipboard, fighting to keep his eyes on Yuki’s face. “Nope! You all are, uh, all good to go in!” He stammered out, shooting a nervous smile to your group.
“Thanks,” Yuki grinned, giving him a wink as he motioned for the guys behind him to open the door for your group. The noise of the party elevated to what felt like thousands of decibels as the four of you stepped in, the temperature rising and humidity immediately sticking to your skin. Yuki leaned down, yelling over the pounding music, “Welcome to hell.”
It had felt like you stepped into the devil’s sanctuary. Everything was showered in a red light, faces cloaked by makeup, masks, shadows. Bodies upon bodies pressed against each other, the floor sticky with beer and whatever other liquor had spilt over the edges of people's cups. Laughter, shrieks of delight, and salacious looks accompanied the bass of the music, the speakers and subwoofers working overtime to crank sound all throughout the house. You scanned the rest of the floor, seeing a beer pong table surrounded by guys and girls alike, cheering on the current competing teams. Between the shifting bodies, you saw a glimpse into the kitchen where handle upon handle gleamed on the island, red solo cups stacked high.
You felt Shoko’s body slide past you, her eyes set on the kitchen. “Be right back. I need a drink.” You heard Utahime’s exasperated sigh as she careened forward, following in Shoko’s footsteps. You started for the kitchen as well, before Yuki pulled you back.
“Slow down, miss girl. I think you need a break.” She laughed as you pouted and groaned in denial. “I know you’re a little new to the party scene, so let me give you some basic rules. One: When you hear that little voice in the back of your head, saying just to get one more drink? Don’t listen. That’s the devil talking. Two: Don’t accept a drink from anyone unless you watch them pour it. There are some freaks here who would love nothing more than to take advantage of a perfect little angel like you,” she said, pinching your cheek. “Three: if at any point you want to leave, or feel uncomfortable, come find me, or Shoko, or Utahime, and we’ll drop everything and take you home. And if you can’t find any of us, there’s a bunch of sober contacts on the wall, find one of them to talk to as an emergency.”
You nodded solemnly, making sure you took Yuki’s word to heart. “Yes, of course.”
She looked at your wide eyes and grinned. “You’re adorable. Wanna meet my boyfriend?”
You nodded giddily, and she grabbed your hand, leading you to the living room where a thick smog wafted over the air, filling it with an unfamiliar stench that made you wrinkle your nose. On the couch, lazily spread out were a couple of guys who nodded their heads at Yuki and glanced over you with mild interest. Only one stood up to greet the two of you, his two black pigtail buns loose on his head, accompanied by a thick black line of ink across the bridge of his nose. “This is Choso,” Yuki said, introducing you to her boyfriend. “Cho, this is the friend I was telling you about that I tutor Yuji and the others with.”
Choso stuck his hand out for you to shake. “Oh yeah, Yuji talks about you all the time. He’s my little brother.”
You gasped, shocked. “Yuki! You didn’t tell me that!” You shoved her shoulder accusingly. “I’m so jealous! I love Yuji, and you guys are practically related.”
Yuki and Choso exchange a knowing glance. “Funny you say that, actually.” But before they could continue with what they were saying, a ball of energy with white hair came up, wedging itself between the couple.
“Fuck yeah! Now the party can start! Yuki, I saved a handle just for you in the freezer!” He shouted, throwing his arms around Yuki and Choso’s shoulders.
“Get the fuck off me, Gojo. Go be an alcoholic with someone else,” Yuki shrugged his arm off her frame, but he didn’t seem to hear, or care, as his blue eyes turned to face you.
Gojo’s eyes traced up and down your figure, coming back up to your face as he sent a flirtatious wink your way. “Yuki, who’s your pretty friend you’ve neglected to introduce me to?”
“Forgive me for trying to save her from extreme suffering and torture,” Yuki answered, looking at his blatant flirting with adamant disgust. She turned to you. “I’m letting you know, he will do everything in his power to sleep with you tonight. It’s very important that you do not succumb to his evil, charming methods of seduction.”
Gojo only grinned devilishly, replacing Yuki in your field of vision. “Notice how when she’s insulting me, she still calls me charming?”
You giggled. You felt a step outside your body, the alcohol still running its course. “To be fair, she called you evil, too.”
Gojo leaned back, gesturing to his costume. “How can I be evil when I’m literally dressed as an angel?” The white cloth could barely be considered a costume; half of his sculpted chest was on display with the tiniest pair of feather-white wings adhered to his back with elastic straps.
You gasped in surprise again. “I’m an angel, too! We’re matching!”
Gojo’s eyes shone a brighter blue. “Well, don’t just stand there, lemme see.” He took your hand, raising it above your head, motioning for you to give a spin, which you cheesily obeyed, turning fully around and exposing your open back to Gojo so he could see the painted wings. His eyes raked over your form appreciatively, still smiling as you completed your turn and faced him with a flushed look. “Gorgeous. You’re wearing the costume much better than I am.”
Yuki gagged. “I’m gonna be sick. Cho, make them stop, please.”
“Oh, please, like you two aren’t King and Queen of PDA. Your boyfriend may as well be wearing a collar right now.” A deep voice grunted from behind Yuki and Choso, pushing his way through the crowd to stand next to Gojo. “Someone’s looking for you at the pong table.”
Gojo brushed him off, still maintaining eye contact with you. “Tell them I’m busy.”
It was then that Toji finally took a look at you. You swallowed nervously. Jesus, this guy was huge. Maybe slightly less intimidating than Sukuna first was, but that scar running across his lip was not doing him any favors. His eyes lit up with a spark of familiarity. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
“Um, we have class together on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but I sit in the front.” You introduced yourself, saying your name, and both Gojo and Toji’s faces broke out in a grin.
“So you’re the one who’s been giving our Sukie-poo a hard time,” Gojo teased. You tucked your lips to stop from bursting out into laughter at the nickname Gojo had given him. “Now I know why he’s been holding out on us.” Before you could question what he meant, he took hold of your hand, his large and warm. “C’mon, let’s get you a drink, angel.”
You felt another flush rise to your cheeks; this time, you knew it wasn’t from the alcohol. “M’kay.” You threw a glance back to Yuki, who had migrated to the couch with Choso, sitting on his lap, and their faces pressed dangerously close together. You went to call out her name to tell her where you were going, but the sounds of the party drowned out your voice.
You felt a tug on your arm. “Hey. Don’t worry, we don’t bite.” Gojo’s eyes seemed to tell a different story as he pulled you forward. You bit your lip, nodding, letting yourself be guided deeper into the party by the two hulking men, to whom the crowd parted around like the Red Sea.
In the kitchen, the brighter overhead lights illuminated more than what could be seen in the thick of the party, Gojo’s bright hair shining even whiter underneath. His smile gleamed down at you, a touch too sharp. “Pick your poison.”
Your fingers trace over the tops of the bottles, the labels all swimming together with disinterest. “Hmm. Got anything sweet?”
Gojo put a hand to his chest, sighing. “A woman after my own heart.” He pointed to the giant red cooler sitting atop a small bench beside the island. “Try that.”
Your eyes lit up with curiosity, and you went to reach for the top of the mountain of red solo cups before Toji grabbed one for you. “Nah. Don’t drink this weak shit. We’ll get you the good stuff from the fridge.”
He poured you a cup of the bright red liquid, and they both watched you take a greedy, big sip. “Tastes just like juice,” you commented, the tangy sweetness still sitting on your tongue. You swirled the liquid around in the cup before your head snapped up, your mind too fuzzy to hesitate in asking, “Have you seen him, by the way?”
“Seen who?”
“Sukuna.”
Gojo leaned forward, teasing you. “Aww, are we not enough for you?”
“It’s just…he invited me, and I didn’t even wanna come, but he – ”
“Sukuna invited you to come?” Toji interjected, his eyebrow raised in surprise.
You nodded. “Yeah, he was sucha dick ‘bout it, too. Said I was boring and didn’t know how to have a good time,” you muttered, staring dejectedly into your drink. Your melancholy gaze into the jungle juice caused you to miss the exchange of glances between Sukuna’s two frat brothers.
“Well, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’m having a great time with you here.” Gojo purred as he leaned against the silver fridge. “Right, Toji?”
Toji nodded. “Absolutely. Matter of fact, we should show Sukuna what a great time we’re having without him, right, doll?”
Even in your inebriated state, you knew these two were trouble. You knew you should heed Yuki’s warning and should excuse yourself politely, beginning the search for your friends you came with. But your body moved faster than your rationale could, and the next thing you knew, your cup was drained and discarded. You glanced between the two of them, an easy smile lazily sprouting on your face.
“You guys like to dance?”
|||
Sukuna was at a loss for how to feel.
He was supposed to be in his element. Music pounding, drinks flowing, hedonism and debauchery within eyesight at every turn. He couldn’t be totally sure of the number, but he could estimate that he was between his twelfth and fifteenth can of beer, and it was barely 11:30. With no underclassmen in sight, and no police presence threatening to shut down what was to be one of the most successful ragers thrown, he should have been feeling nothing but ecstasy. He was, for a solid hour and a half.
Until he got a text from you.
That wasn’t unusual; the two of you had been texting more frequently outside of meetings to study for the past couple of days. He told you to text when you got here, and when 11 o’clock came and went, he’d assumed you’d bailed on the plans, much to the chagrin of your friends he’d met earlier.
What he didn’t expect was to get a selfie from you, in his kitchen, sandwiched between his two best friends.
You and Toji looked straight into the lens, your eyes glassy and unfocused, but your smile bright and carefree. Your hand rested on Toji’s cheek, pulling his face flush to yours as he smirked into the camera, knowing exactly what kind of reaction this would pull from his pink-haired friend. But Gojo, of course, took it a step further, sticking his tongue out with his middle finger tossed up, taunting the camera.
| wish you were here, huh
He blinked once, then blinked again. At that moment, he couldn’t remember where he was, or who he was talking to, or what was being shouted to him over the noise of the music. He shot a text back.
| where are u
| are u drunk
Your bubble appeared, then disappeared again, over and over, each time it did, his fingers gripped the sides of his phone with more force than necessary. He scoffed when your message finally did appear:
| come find me :))
He felt a head peek over to see what on his screen had captured his attention so quickly, and in that moment, he remembered where he was. Uraume got a glance at the photo before he could leave the chat. “She’s pretty,” she commented off-handedly. No malice. No tone laced with jealousy. So objective, so removed, it almost, almost, made Sukuna feel worse.
Uraume wasn’t stupid. Similar to you, she knew the deal with Sukuna. She’d heard about the rumors and the trail of maligned lovers Sukuna had left behind. She’d listened to the warnings of her older sorority sisters, telling her to protect her heart when dealing with a heartbreaker. But Uraume also knew she wasn’t looking for love. She barely looked for like. She looked for someone who could tolerate, someone consistent, someone casual, and someone she could talk to and wouldn’t feel like clawing her eyes out at the end of the conversation. She thought, maybe, she could find that in Sukuna.
But she saw the way his face morphed when he scanned your contact name flashing across his screen. She saw how his thumb almost instinctively flicked to read your message, where dozens others, hers included somewhere in that mix, sat ignored and unopened. She saw the way a shadow passed across his face as he enlarged the photo, darkness already enshrouding their frames in the corner of the halls they occupied. She saw his guttural, raw reactions, left uninhibited by the alcohol in his system, and knew, probably before Sukuna did himself, that maybe, for the first time in his life, he wanted something more than casual and easy.
“I like her glasses.”
“Yeah,” Sukuna muttered. He pushed off the wall he was leaning against, casting a partially apologetic glance her way. “I gotta go.”
Uraume shrugged. “It’s fine. Just lemme know about what I asked. About the date party?”
Sukuna nodded, still only giving her half his attention. He pushed his way through the bodies of people that seemed to multiply as the night went on, searching for Gojo and Toji’s contacts. He called and called again when both rings went straight to voicemail. He let out a huff of frustration, heading down the stairs to the kitchen, where he saw your friends, Shoko and Utahime, engaging in and winning, what seemed to be a very competitive drinking game.
Shoko slammed the empty cup down, throwing her hands up in victory. “And that’s how you clear a bitch, fuckin’ losers!” Utahime hiccuped, clapping her hands together giddily at Shoko’s victory before spotting Sukuna and stumbling over to him.
“Hi! Thank you soooo much for the invite, we’re having a blast!” She giggled out.
“Uh huh. Where’s your friend?”
“She’s with Sho-hic- Shoko. I mean, Yuki, she’s with Yuki! In the living room!”
Sukuna tossed out a thanks, turning and heading to the living room before Utahime could hiccup another thanks out. Shoving his way through the masses, he immediately spotted Yuki’s blonde hair and Choso’s space buns, which he always gave him shit for. He pressed three fingers against Yuki’s shoulder and gave her a shove. “Yo. Where is she?”
Yuki tossed an irritated glance behind her before she saw it was Sukuna, and her face dropped even more. “Jesus, what do you want?” Her eyes were a light shade of red, as were Choso’s, and Sukuna let out a sigh of irritation to match Yuki’s tone.
Sukuna repeated your name gruffly. “Where is she?”
Yuki glanced around, a slight panic growing in her face before Choso responded. “She went with Gojo and Toji to get a drink. Try the kitchen.”
“Already tried there. You people are useless, aren’t you supposed to be her friends?” Sukuna grumbled out, pulling out his phone to call Toji again.
“Oh please, if you can’t trust her around your friends, that says more about them than it does us.” Yuki started to get up from Choso’s lap, staggering as she regained control of her body weight. “I’ll find her.”
“Sit your ass down,” Sukuna lightly pushed Yuki back into the couch. “You’ll get lost before you take another step. Bet you barely know where you are right now anyway. I’ll find her.”
Yuki didn’t object, only scowling at his accusation. “Whatever. Just know if they hurt a hair on her precious little head, I will kill them in cold blood.”
“Yeah, not before I do,” Sukuna grumbled, stalking away from the smoked-out couple to reach for the nearest sober-looking person he could find. When he found one of the sober contacts making his rounds in the corner of the room, he asked when the last time he’d seen Gojo or Toji.
“Maybe twenty minutes away? They were headed to the basement.”
The fucking basement. If the entryway to the frat house was hell, then the basement was the second circle in Dante’s Inferno. It had been the past president’s dream to create as close to an environment of a nightclub as possible, with strobing lights and elevated surfaces, and a makeshift DJ booth to top it off at the back of the room. With light sucked into a vacuum, bodies packed like sardines, and heat rising from the dancing in the crowd, he’d been fairly successful in doing so, which meant Sukuna prepared himself for a hunt in the dark.
He descended the wooden stairs, the temperature rising with every step, and his only guiding beacon was the flashing, colorful lights. He searched for Gojo’s white colored head, and spotted him at the front near the DJ, Toji not standing far off.
Sukuna's nostrils flared, and he began shoving his way through the dancing mob, ignoring the sounds of protests and shoves back. He came up to face his friends, grabbing Gojo by the front of his costume. “Where is she?”
Gojo’s blue eyes, despite being unfocused, smiled when they saw the evident frustration on Sukuna’s face. He jerked his head behind him toward the DJ booth. “Look up.”
Sukuna’s eyes flashed red before he tilted his head up. His grip faltered.
There you were. Dancing. Behind the DJ booth. Arms raised, hands swirling, hips swaying back and forth, riding the rhythm. It was as if you scooped a star out of the sky, crushing it in your hands and sprinkling yourself with the dust it left behind. Your dancing, your serenity, your recklessness, you were mesmerizing. And in a brief moment, it was just you in your singularity, dancing to the music with no regard to the ruby red eyes devouring your every movement.
Until the moment broke. Someone jostled into Sukuna, a growl crawling up his throat, and you opened your eyes, looking down at the scene, seeing the two men who accompanied you downstairs and your perpetually angry project partner.
“Sukuna!” You squeezed from behind the booth, reaching your arms out to step down. In your drunken state, you stumbled, launching into his body, giggling all the way. “Sorry. I, uh, slipped.”
“So I saw.” Sukuna studied your face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” You drawled out, rolling your eyes at his concern. “Why are you bein’ so serious?” You questioned blearily. “What happened to ‘hi’? Welcome to the party? Glad you made it? Are you havin’ a good time?” You slurred, stumbling over your words.
“Well, I can tell you’re having a good time.” He chuckled, despite himself.
“Your friends are sooooo nice, Sukuna. They’re so funny and kind.” You waved at Toji as if you just noticed him standing a few feet away. “Toji! Thank you for holding my drink!” You took your cup from his hands, taking another small sip before looking back to Sukuna. “Here. You look like you need this.”
Sukuna took the cup from your hands and peered into it. “Who gave you this? Don’t drink this shit.” Ignoring your protests and hands grabbing for the cup, he set it outside your reach. He turned to Gojo. “You gave her jungle juice?”
Gojo sucked his teeth. “Stop being such a party pooper. We were having a great time before you came and brought the vibe down. Besides, she’s fine.” Gojo put his face in front of yours, holding up two fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up, angel?”
You blinked, then smiled, grabbing hold of Gojo’s fingers with your hand and pushing them down. “Your eyes are sooo blue. Are those contacts?”
Gojo flashed his pearly whites. “See, she’s fine.”
Sukuna thumped him on the back of his head. “Stop being a dumbass. She’s fuckin’ gone. You’re lucky I don’t castrate you where you stand.” He turned back to you, your eyes deep and unfocused. “I’m taking you back to your friends, okay?”
You pouted. “But, Toji and Gojo are my friends now, right?” You looked up hopefully at the two guys standing by either shoulder.
Sukuna ignored the smug smile Gojo sent his way, trying to be patient. “Yeah, but I’m taking you back to your cool friends you came with. Wanna see Yuki?”
Your face lit up at the sound of your friend’s name, and you nodded, letting yourself be pulled by Sukuna through the crowd. Sukuna glared back at his two friends, still standing on the makeshift dancefloor. “I’ll deal with you both tomorrow.”
Sukuna let you walk up the stairs first, following behind carefully in case you stumbled. Regardless of it still being a sauna on the main level, it felt like a breath of fresh air compared to the swelter of the basement. Sukuna’s eyes searched the couch where he left Yuki and Choso to see the spot conspicuously empty, only to hear they vacated the premises soon after he left to search for you. He began to look for Utahime and Shoko in the kitchen, but the guys who’d lost the drinking contest from earlier said Shoko had been in the bathroom upstairs for the better part of thirty minutes with no end time in sight, Utahime staying by her side.
Sukuna sighed, shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. He glanced down at you. He could tell the energy and alcohol had begun to settle, the edges of your eyes drooping and your legs beginning to wobble from fatigue. “Ah, fuck,” he whispered, running a hand through his head. “You okay?”
You nodded sleepily, rubbing at your eye. “Where’s Shoko and Hime?”
“They’re…preoccupied. Would it be okay if I took you home instead?”
“But…I shouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.” You protested, a yawn wracking your frame.
“Where’s your phone? We can text them and let them know you left.” Sukuna suggested.
You plopped your phone in his hand, but the screen stayed dark. He pressed a series of buttons, and nothing lit to attention. “Is your phone dead?”
You nodded. “Died after I sent you that photo. Did you like it?”
“Why would you hand me your phone if it was dead?”
“I got tired of holding it. No purse. See?” You spun around, as if to prove the lack of pockets your outfit had.
“Right. No jacket, either, I’m assuming?”
“Nope!” You said emphatically, popping the ‘p’ sound.
“Of course.” Walking you near the front door, he left you with a sober contact while he raced upstairs to grab you a hoodie of his. Grabbing his red one slung over the back of his chair, he came back downstairs, tossing it gently in your face, “Put that on. It’s cold.”
You stuck your tongue out, but complied, pulling the jacket over your head, quickly drowning in the fabric. Sukuna tried to swallow his heartbeat that felt as if it crawled up his throat, gesturing his head to the door. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”
The walk was quiet, but not uncomfortable. After prying your address from you, Sukuna took the lead, looking down at you every couple of steps to make sure you were okay. You walked, sometimes wobbled after him, wrapping your arms around your chest as the chill of the night caressed your bare legs. You stumbled on a stray overturned stone, causing Sukuna’s hands to shoot out and grab you, stabilizing your footing. “Careful,” he grunted. He took your hands and wrapped them around his arm, holding up upright as you continued to walk. “We’re almost there.”
You hummed quietly, watching your footsteps. You paused, then spoke quietly. “Thank you. For walking me home.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“...’m sorry for taking you away from the party,” you murmured softly.
“Don’t be sorry.”
“I just know you were looking forward to it, and I feel bad that –”
“Hey. Do me a favor and shut up. The party’s whatever, just wanna make sure you get home safe.”
You turned to face him, your eyes big and round and watery. “You’re not mad?”
“I promise, I’m not mad. But I am exhausted, so why don’t you tell me where your key is so we can get you inside?”
After pointing to the spare key above your doorframe, Sukuna unlocked and pushed your door open, seeing the remnants of Yuki, Shoko, Utahime, and your pregame. “Damn. I stand corrected; maybe you do know how to have a good time.” Slipping off his shoes, he quickly spotted a charger near the kitchen, plugged in your phone, and went to get you a glass of water and something to eat.
You groaned at the mess scattered around your apartment. “I’ll clean tomorrow. Sorry, it’s not usually like this.” You stumbled to your living room area, all but falling into the couch, reaching down to get your shoes off. After struggling with the laces for what felt like eons, you looked up helplessly at Sukuna, who walked in holding a cup and a plate of crackers. “I’m sorry, I just – can you help me?”
Sukuna looked down at your knotted shoes and sighed. Setting down the plate and cup on your coffee table, he kneeled in front of you, making quick work of your laces and pulling off your shoes. “There, happy now, princess?”
You buried your face in your hands, your words coming out muffled. “I’m not a princess!”
“Whatever you say. Can you drink this for me? So you don’t wake up tomorrow feeling like death.” He held out the cup of water, which you took after peeking through your fingers. You took big gulps, downing the glass in one go before he got back up to get you another. As he poured from your filter, he felt a furry, warm body press against his leg, and he jumped, knocking against your fridge. “Holy fucking shit.”
You called from the living room. “‘It’s just Miso. She’s harmless, mostly. Miso, be nice.”
Sukuna and Miso stared at each other, red eyes meeting green as they challenged one another to make the first move. Miso blinked, unimpressed with the stranger standing in her kitchen and padded over to you on the couch, making herself home in your lap.
Sukuna handed you the glass and watched you drink it, until he cleared his throat. “Alright. You seem okay, so I’ll head out now.”
Your eyes widened in panic, shooting up from your seated position. “Wait!”
He halted from shrugging his jacket back on his shoulders, his eyes looking at you expectantly. “You okay?”
“I just – I don’t want to be alone right now.”
Silence. Sukuna stared at you, processing what you were saying.
“I’m sorry to ask, but I feel weird and dizzy and nauseous, and I know it’s stupid but I can’t help but feel anxious right now and I don’t want to be a burden – ”
“You’re not a burden.”
“ – But I just really don’t want to be alone right now. Would you please, just, stay, for a minute?”
Sukuna fidgeted, setting his jacket on the back of your couch. “Yeah. I’ll stay for a bit.”
You couldn’t hide the relief that washed over your face. “Thank you.” You sat back down on the couch and Sukuna sat next to you, stiffly, trying to give you space.
You gulped down the rest of the water, laughing to yourself. “God, I probably looked so stupid back there. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. You had a good time.”
“Well, I feel bad for dragging you away from your own party, and then asking you to stay.”
“I’m fine here. Besides, there’ll be something else to go to tomorrow. Weekend’s not over yet.”
You groaned. “It is for me.” You pawed at the bowl of candy you’d set out earlier from the pre, searching for something sweet to snack on. You offered the bowl to Sukuna, closing part of the distance between you. “Want some?”
Sukuna raised an eyebrow, suspicious. You sighed, exasperated. “It’s just candy. I’m not gonna eat it all by myself.”
Tentatively, he took a piece of chocolate, unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth before reaching for the remote. “Wanna watch something?”
You nodded, sinking deeper into the couch. “Nothin’ scary, though.”
“God, you’re so lame.”
“Actually, I take it back. You can go now.”
Sukuna let out a small puff of air, but didn’t make a move to the door. He sat, rooted in place and pressing play on a silly Halloween cartoon he remembers from when he was a kid. He stared at the screen for a few minutes before taking a glance down at you, blanketed in his hoodie, Miso curled up on your lap, dozing off, and your makeup slightly smudged on you face from the wildness of the party.
You felt his gaze before you saw it. You turned your head, catching the softness in his eyes before looking back at the TV. “Sukuna,” you whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Tell me I didn’t mess anything up tonight.”
“You didn’t mess anything up.”
“Promise me things won’t be weird.”
A beat. “They won’t.”
He felt your head slide down, resting on his shoulder. He stopped breathing.
“You promise?”
He swallowed. “I promise.”
You stayed like that, the television softly projecting the orange hues of the show, Miso on your lap, and you on Sukuna’s shoulder. He stayed still enough to feel your breathing even out, and spared a glance to see the peaceful sleep you dozed off into, your fingers still curled around his arm. He shut the TV off, carefully moving Miso out of the way to pick you up, gingerly carrying you down the hall, resting you gently on your bed, and putting another glass of water on your bedside table. He didn’t linger, didn’t roam your room in curiosity, didn’t idle and wonder about the rest of your life and how comfortably he felt during his brief visit inside it. Instead, he silently grabbed his jacket and his keys, slipping his shoes back on and shutting your front door quietly. As the lock clicked in place, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and cursed to himself, wondering when studying had gotten so complicated.
a/n: lololol yeah this took a hot second to write lol but hopefully it's not garbage and you guys like it idk. wanted to surprise you guys and post it earlier than i said i would teehee 🤭🫶🏾
description -> there wasn't much you and frat boy!sukuna ryomen had in common...except your mutual disdain for partner projects. (un)luckily for the two of you, fate has a way of bringing together the seemingly incompatible. but as the project continues and studying sessions involve less and less studying, you both discover you're learning more about yourselves than the subject matter at hand...
word count -> 10k
cw -> yearning || mutual pining || like, medium burn? || eventual smut || drinking || smoking || cursing || mean sukuna (but only if you squint) || side frat!gojo x nerd!reader || jealousy || slight angst (but like only a little) || slight angst (but it's so minimal guys i promise)
part five || part six || part seven
Sukuna trekked back from your apartment with the same sunken stare he had when he left you. By the time his feet crossed the threshold of his front door, it was evident the party was over. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed between walking you back and watching the show, but the only remnants of the rager were plastered college students slouched on furniture pieces, too drunk to do anything else but lie there.
He scoffed at the mess left behind. Floors, even stickier than before, were littered with beer cans and bottles, feathers and sparkles, and random costume parts left abandoned like an old Spirit Halloween building. He plodded up the stairs, sidestepping the junior snoozing in the middle of the case, and walked toward his room, trying and failing to avoid the sights of either of his friends, but no such luck. As he pushed his door open, he saw Gojo’s long frame sprawled out on his rug, angel wings still on his back, and cheek pressed against his hands, fast asleep.
Sukuna kicked his body. “Get the fuck outta my room.”
Gojo twisted, disoriented. “Sukie? What are you doing back?”
“Get out of my room,” Sukuna repeated, voice gruffer and losing patience quickly.
Gojo sat up with a stretch, making a show with a big yawn. “What time is it? Toji had a girl over ‘nd was makin’ so much noise, I had to move to yours. Figured you wouldn’t be back tonight.”
“Why the fuck would you think that?” Sukuna grumbled out, stepping over Gojo’s body to strip his clothes, changing for bed.
“You took her back to hers, didn’t you? Thought you were spending the night.” Gojo took in his vexed state and let out a laugh of disbelief. “Oh, don’t tell me she kicked you out? I think she’s my hero. Can you tell her I’m obsessed with her?”
“She didn’t kick me out, dumbass,” Sukuna grumbled, pulling his sweatshirt from over his head and tossing it near his laundry pile. His hands grasped for the hoodie on his back chair before he realized it was gone, instead cozily tucked against your body in your bed. His fingers twitched, and he let out a sharp breath. “Fuck.”
“What then? Was it that bad that you left?” Gojo asked incredulously.
“Is everything about sex with you?” Sukuna snapped, head flicking over his shoulder to glare at his friend, still sitting on his floor. “We didn’t fuck, alright? I just walked her home after you two got her drunk as shit.”
Gojo rolled his eyes. “Come on, she would’ve been fine. Toji and I were watching over her the whole time. She handles her liquor very well.” Gojo reached up, straightening his spine as he shrugged the cheap plastic wings off his shoulders. “Besides, she didn’t seem interested in us in the slightest. All she could ask about was you anyway,” he added offhandedly, beginning to pick at his nails.
Sukuna paused. “What?”
Gojo shrugged. “She asked about you a bunch. After we took that photo, she was worried you’d find it weird, but Toji talked her into it. Said you’d find it funny, which I’m sure you didn’t. She kept asking where you were when we took her dancing. Honestly, it was kinda cute.” Gojo turned to look at his friend. “How come you didn’t tell us you had invited her?”
Sukuna’s brain short-circuited. You asked about him? Multiple times? He groaned, rubbing his temple as the alcohol and muddled feelings churned together in his stomach, like a molten mix of confusion and nausea. He couldn’t deal with this shit right now, not with Gojo staring him down as if this was an interrogation, and not while his clock told him it was twenty minutes until 4 am.
“Gojo, get the fuck out.” He repeated, unbuttoning his pants, sliding them off, and kicking at his friend to leave simultaneously.
Gojo stood, putting his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’m going.” He meandered toward the door, swinging his body around the frame, leaving his everything above his chest in Sukuna’s view. “Just one more question, and then I pinky promise I’ll go.”
Sukuna didn’t believe that in the slightest, but he craned his head over, staring with dead eyes, imploring Gojo to spit out whatever he was going to ask.
“Do you like her?”
And of course, he would ask that damn question. Sukuna rolled his eyes, breaking his gaze from Gojo’s. “You’re an idiot. No, I don’t like her. I barely tolerate her.” He picked up his pillow, tossing it forcefully back against his bed just to give his hands something to do.
“Oh. Okay,” Gojo said, nodding.
“She fuckin’ drives me insane. All we do is argue.” Sukuna added.
“Sure.”
He tried to stop, but it’s like the words were bubbling out of his throat, forcing themselves to be heard. “The only reason she even acted decently toward me tonight was ‘cause she was too drunk to think straight. Probably thought I was someone else. She can’t stand me.” A beat. “And I can’t stand her ass either. Pretentious as fuck.”
“Right. But – and don’t shoot me for saying this – didn’t you invite her to the party tonight?”
Sukuna feigned indifference. “Didn’t think she’d actually show up. What’s that got to do with anything anyway? We invite girls all the time to these things.”
“Yeah, we do,” Gojo gestured broadly to the closed room doors in the hallway holding sleeping frat men inside. “You, on the other hand…”
“Why do you fucking care anyway?” Sukuna barked, throwing himself back onto his bed, putting an arm behind his head, and leaning against the backboard. “Do you have something you want to say to me?”
Gojo let out a sardonic puff of air. “No, Sukuna, I have nothing else to say to you, except for the fact that you’re an absolute dumbass. Goodnight.” Gojo exited Sukuna’s doorframe, throwing a hand out in a wave behind him. Sukuna heard his footsteps cross the hall and his door shut closed, finally leaving him in silence, with tonight’s events and the weight of his feelings resting against his chest like a boulder, immovable and heavy.
He forced his eyes closed and tried to control his breathing, willing sleep to muffle his thoughts, but it evaded him. The boulder furrowed deeper instead, forming a concavity in his chest that smelled strangely of hazelnut and vanilla, not unlike the warm smell of your apartment. His thoughts raced around, ricocheting off the corners of his room as he groaned, tossing and turning, uncomfortable no matter the position he lay in. He hit his head with the heel of his palm, wincing. “Fuck.”
He had lied to you earlier. Things were definitely getting weird.
But he was trying. He was trying his damnedest not let whatever the fuck was going on with him affect you in the slightest. What is this feeling, anyway? You weren’t friends. You were barely acquaintances. At the end of the day, you were randomly assigned partners to a project who had never spoken a word to each other until a couple of months ago, and you hated each other at that.
At least, he thought you did.
But Sukuna wasn’t sure whether what he was feeling was hatred anymore. Not when he could recite your order at your favorite café off the top of his head (hazelnut latte with almond milk and an almond croissant, lightly toasted). Not when he pinned your contact to the top of his phone a few days ago, not wanting your messages to get lost in the ether of his phone. Not when he’d felt the hot sear of jealousy surge through his chest when that stupid fucking photo popped up on his screen with his friends who were too close to comfort with someone whose relationship he couldn’t even clearly define anymore. And especially not when, in what felt like a split second, he made that picture of your wide, hazy smile your contact photo in his phone.
No, whatever this was, it was vile, putrid, debilitating, and something to get rid of as quickly as possible.
Sukuna shot up from his bed, clawing for his phone on the bedside table.
5:46 AM.
“Jesus, fuck.” He hissed, tossing his comforter off his body and shooting out of bed. He ripped open his closet, grabbed whatever sweats he could find, and threw them on his body, quickly grabbing the closest pair of sneakers and shoving them onto his feet. He stalked down the staircase, scrolling through his phone until he found the contact info for the pledge class president. He called and waited two rings before he picked up.
The sounds of sleep sputtered through the speakers. The pledge took in a breath, trying to sound more awake than he actually felt. “Hello? Um, what – what’s going on? I mean, what is it, sir?” The pledge answered groggily, his dry voice cracking from exhaustion.
“Get your pledge class together and get your asses over here. The house is a mess and needs to be cleaned before we throw again.” Sukuna barked. He didn’t wait for an okay or an acknowledgement before hanging up, plugging his earbuds in, and walking out the door, slamming the door behind him, the hinges creaking in his wake.
He stretched briefly before putting on the loudest album he could find and began to move. Starting at a jog, his pace slowly began to pick up speed. His breaths became shallow as his arms pumped faster, his feet eating up the ground before him, the shades of an autumnal dawn blurring in his periphery. He was running at a pace he knew he couldn’t sustain. His lungs burned, sweat beading down his back as his calves screamed to slow down and rectify the brutal pace he demanded. He pushed and pushed and pushed until he couldn’t anymore, his knees shuddering under the pressure as he slowed to a stop, chest heaving and lungs greedily devouring as much air as he would let them.
He bent over, hands resting on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. His chest burned, but it didn’t relieve him from the hollow feeling from earlier. He felt his phone buzz with texts. He opened his phone, reading from his group chat with Toji and Gojo, still panting:
toji | yo why the fuck are pledges here
toji | it’s 6 in the fuckin morning
toji | they’re making so much noise
gojo | sukuna what crawled up your ass and died
gojo | this is punishment for everyone
gojo | tell them to get lost
gojo | where tf are you anyway
Sukuna read as more texts flooded into the group chat, but he didn’t react. He couldn’t. His brain was running as fast as he was a second ago, sprinting a million miles a second, and he felt unsteady.
What was this feeling?
He probably knew.
But he was going to keep running until he couldn’t feel it anymore.
|||
You couldn’t tell if the banging sound was coming from your front door or the pounding feeling inside your head when you woke up. Your entire body ached as you rose like a corpse from a coffin, stiff and sore, your eyes squeezed shut and your hand blocking the brightness flooding in from your window. Your lips were dry and brittle as you reached for the conveniently placed glass of water by your bedside table. You’d never felt so thirsty in your life.
As you set down the glass, your eyes trailed over to the clock, reading the time.
12:21 PM.
“Holy shit,” you rubbed at your face, searching blindly for your phone. You physically rolled out of bed, knees hitting the ground as you began searching for your glasses in Velma-fashion, hands patting the carpeted floor in blind pursuit of anything that could help you start to put together what the hell happened last night.
A louder pounding caused your head to snap up. You heard muffled voices from the other side of the door as you crept up to the front of your apartment, their volumes growing louder as you lifted your hand to the knob.
“Jesus, we thought you died! Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Utahime pounced, wrapping you in a fierce hug and sending you stumbling back into your entryway as Shoko and Yuki poured in behind her, bags in hand with hot coffee and even hotter breakfast filling the air.
“Don’t know where my phone is,” you puffed through her black hair in your face. You pushed her off your body before the room started spinning. “I woke up literally five seconds ago.”
You looked around at your friends, faces mixed with worrying, anxiety, and the type of exhaustion that only comes from a late night out. Shoko’s naturally dark undereyes almost seemed colored in with paint, the edges holding flecks of last night’s makeup. Yuki’s face was concealed in dark shades, and her normally shiny hair was tied up in a messy bun, using what looked to be one of Choso’s black hair ties. Utahime, although the most put together, had clearly dashed out the door, her mismatched socks underneath her slippers giving her away.
“We’re so, so sorry!” Utahime cried out, pulling you back into a hug. “We shouldn’t have left you alone like that at the party!”
Shoko added herself onto the hug, restricting your movement even more. “I’m actually never drinking again, guys. I’m so sorry your first frat party went like that.”
Yuki nodded, setting the bags of food on the table, pushing back the bottles and glasses still left over from last night. “Yeah, we’ll help you clean this up. I’m real sorry, babe. Never should’ve left you alone like that.”
You gasped for air, fighting your way out of the tightness of the hug. “Sho, Hime, I love you guys, but you have to let me go before I throw up.” Your friends released you quickly, and you rubbed your face, plopping down into your dining room chair. “Guys, I’m fine. I’m not a child; I could fend for myself. Nothing crazy happened.”
“Really? Nothing crazy happened last night?” Yuki asked pointedly.
You paused. “Ok, well, maybe something happened, but I don’t totally remember. Some things are a little fuzzy at the moment.”
Shoko looked at you adoringly. “Oh my gosh, baby’s first blackout!”
“Not exactly something I’m proud of,” you commented, eyes still searching for your phone. “I’ll get plates and stuff for food. Can you guys make some room?”
You trudged into the kitchen, your face lighting up when you found your cell plugged into the wall. You quickly unlocked it, and immediately your screen was flooded with missed messages and calls from Shoko, Utahime, and Yuki, all at varying levels of readability. You scrolled and scrolled, and bit your lip when you didn’t see Sukuna’s contact name anywhere in your messages. You furrowed your brow at the lump in your throat. Was it disappointment? Or frustration? You pressed your fingers to your temple, as if trying to will the memories back into your brain from last night. Foggy images of you cantering back to your apartment, your hands wrapped around his firm arm, warm breaths and even warmer eyes…
You felt heat rise to your face as what you said on the couch slammed into your chest. “Oh, God,” you whispered, hand covering your mouth in shock. You quickly opened your conversation with him, only to be greeted by the bright, drunken photo of you, Toji, and Gojo in the kitchen you had sent him previously. You shrieked, dropping your phone, and heard the voices of concern call out from the dining room. “Everything okay, babe?”
“Everything’s fine,” you yelled back shakily, your hands fumbling to grab your phone and shut it off, as if that would erase the photo. Your silly, inebriated smile was burned into the back of your mind. You felt the embarrassment of your antics fill your stomach, and you shut your eyes, trying to take deep breaths.
“Um, hello? How long does it take to get plates?” Yuki rounded the corner, resting her body weight on the column dividing the kitchen from the rest of the apartment. She took in your disheveled, distressed state and clicked her tongue. “Ah, memories coming back, huh?”
You nodded somberly, covering your face with your hands. “I must’ve looked like an idiot last night.”
“Your name and the word ‘idiot’ don’t even belong in the same sentence,” Yuki comforted, pulling your hands down by your side. She reached up with one hand to pull the shades off her face, pushing back her flyaway strands. “But I have to ask before the others do.” Her eyes dropped to your figure quickly before meeting back with yours, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips and a twinkle of curiosity in her eyes.
“Why are you wearing Sukuna’s hoodie?”
You looked at her in horror before you looked down at your hoodie-clad body. Sure enough, his red hoodie engulfed your frame, the smell of him still faint in its fabric. “Oh, my God.”
Yuki raised her eyebrows. “Did you just now notice?”
“No! I just – ” You cut off your sentence with a groan, putting your face back in your hands. “I don’t know what’s going on,” you whispered.
“Ok. Well, let’s start by getting some food in your system, and then we can piece the night together from there.” Yuki pulled your hands down again, walking you over to your cabinet, pulling out paper plates and some plastic utensils for the group. She walked with you back to the dining room, where Shoko and Utahime were already seated, both nursing two cups of strong black coffee. She took the seat next to you as she set everything down, beginning to serve the food. “I ordered the perfect hangover cure - lots of bacon and potatoes, so everybody thanks our gracious sponsor Choso for putting his card down.”
“Thank you, Choso,” Utahime said in a sing-song tone, rocking her head back and forth.
“Yeah, where’d the two of you disappear off to?” Shoko waggled her eyebrows at Yuki, reaching to pour a mountain of potatoes on her plate. “Didn’t even see you when the rest of the party cleared out.”
Yuki flushed. “Well, Cho and I went to look for her, but we got…distracted.” She scowled at the giggles that erupted at the table. “In my defense, I was not as…cognizant as I should have been.”
“Yeah, you were blazed out of your mind, we know.” Utahime teased.
Yuki scoffed. “You’re one to talk. I’ve never seen you that drunk before.” She crunched on a strip of bacon, pointing it in the pair’s direction. “You both are horrible influences.”
“Says the bitch that ran this pregame like the fuckin’ Navy. It’s a miracle we even made it to the party.” Shoko garbled out, still chewing on breakfast. “But enough about us. “She turned her heated, hungover gaze toward you. “You. Spill. What happened last night?”
You stiffened as three pairs of eyes looked at you. You glanced at Yuki, who shrugged, not willing to throw you a line in assistance. You rolled your fork between your fingers, your waffles suddenly not looking so appetizing. “I don’t remember everything.”
“Honestly, for the better. I saw wayyyy too many people last night.” Utahime shuddered at the memory.
You bit your lip. “I remember being with Yuki for a bit, and then I met Gojo and their friend, um, Toji, I think. And they were nice.”
Three incredulous responses sounded at once. “Toji?” “Gojo?” “Nice?”
“Guys, they really weren’t bad,” you cajoled, stabbing a piece of waffle drenched in syrup. “They got me a drink and then took me to the dance floor in the basement, and we just talked for a bit. Really.”
Yuki leaned back in her chair, throwing her head to the ceiling. “Do not tell me they gave you the jungle juice. Oh my God, I’m gonna kill them.”
You frowned. “Yuki, I’m not a kid. I was fine. And they weren’t being weird at all.” You sighed, chewing contemplatively. “Honestly, most of what’s fuzzy is how I got home.” You glanced up in worry. “Wait. How did you guys get home?”
Utahime snorted. “Well, that one didn’t.” She pointed to Yuki, who stuck her tongue out. “Shoko and I just took an Uber home once she stopped throwing up.”
“Prayers to the unfortunate soul who has to clean that bathroom,” Shoko shuddered. “I think my lunch from last week came out, along with an organ.”
“Gross, Sho. We’re eating.” Utahime chided, spearing a potato off of Shoko’s plate.
“So, you don’t remember how you got home?” Shoko fended Utahime’s fork off, turning her attention back to you.
You prepared for the bomb to drop. “I think…Sukuna walked me home.”
Silence overtook the apartment for the first time since your friends entered. You dared to look up, taking in your friends’ expressions. Utahime tried her hardest to remain neutral, but you could see the confusion and curiosity bubbling underneath her visage. Shoko gaped, her jaw hanging open, shamelessly revealing her shock. Meanwhile, Yuki bit her lip, fighting to keep the smile from overtaking her face.
“Sukuna…your project partner?” Shoko asked, as if another Sukuna were roaming around campus.
“Walked you home?” Utahime finished, fiddling with her napkin.
You nodded. “Yeah, I think I was pretty drunk, and when I couldn’t find you guys, I probably just wanted to leave and go back to mine.” You sucked in a breath. “I feel awful. I probably dragged him away from the party.”
Yuki paused, taking a sip of her coffee. “Not to play devil’s advocate, but there were a million other options he could’ve done instead of walking you back. Like, the house isn’t that big. There’s maybe five bathrooms. He could’ve found Shoko or Utahime easily and dropped you off with them.”
Shook shrugged. “He could’ve called you an Uber, too.” She went back for another serving of food, piling more onto her plate. “Besides, Hime and I closed shop, and he wasn’t back by the time we left.”
“Yeah, right.” Flashes of a movie and the two of you on the couch screened in your head, faint memories of being carried to your bed, where you floated in and out of consciousness, his thick arms curling you into his chest, the care with which he set you down. You took in a sharp breath, willing the feeling to disappear. “I don’t know what kept him,” you shrugged, moving your food around your plate.
You couldn’t bring yourself to tell your friends everything that happened. Regardless of how they reacted, you didn’t even know how to feel about it yourself. What did it all mean? The walk, his hold, his hoodie, his eyes…it was getting to be too much. It wasn’t something you wanted to be picked apart by your friends, scrutinized and examined at every angle, constantly questioned when you hadn’t begun to acknowledge what was developing between you and him.
You felt Yuki’s hot glare on you, but you refused to look over, instead grabbing packets of cream and sugar and adding them to your coffee. Whether Utahime and Shoko noticed your sudden closed-lippedness, they didn’t comment.
“Hm. Well, regardless, he definitely cares about you, at least a little.” Utahime pointed out. “Or at least enough to walk you back home.”
“Oh joy, he’s a decent human being,” Yuki grumbled, clearly agitated with your decision not to share anything else, stabbing at her plate. “Give me a break. Talk to me when he does something that’s not the bare minimum.”
“Well, sorry we can’t all have perfect boyfriends like you, Yuki,” Utahime teased, beginning to gather up the trash at the table.
After more commiserating and recounting of the night, your girls helped you clean up the mess from breakfast and the night before. You bid them farewell, slumping your back against the door as you exhaled, the weight of it all dragging your eyelids down. You felt Miso make her first appearance, crawling between your legs, meowing in hunger.
You sighed, picking her up and carrying her to her bowl. “Sorry, girl, it’s been a rough morning.” You began to scoop her food out, setting it out for her and grabbing your phone. You hovered over Sukuna’s contact, hesitating to send a message. You looked back down at Miso, who ate voraciously, not unlike how you and your friends were no less than an hour ago. “Miso, should I text him?”
Miso ignored you, leaving you alone in your decision-making. You groaned, resting your hips against the countertop, and began to type:
| Hi. I wanted to start by apologizing for last night. I should not have gotten that drunk, and I should not have dragged you away from the party to walk me home. I hope you’re still able to enjoy a bit of your weekend, as I know you were looking forward to it. That being said, thank you for making sure I got home safely. I appreciated it. I’m also sorry for stealing your hoodie, and I will return it to you washed in class next week. Hopefully you’re still good to meet next Saturday, I literally just woke up, so it’s a good thing we rescheduled lol.
| Also, I did have a great time, regardless of the end of the night, so thank you for the invite.
You reread the message a thousand times as if you were editing a thesis. Was it too professional-sounding? Too casual?
And why the fuck did you care so much, anyway?
You grunted, pressing the send button, then tossing your phone across the counter. You stared down at Miso, who lapped from her water bowl, satisfied from her meal.
“Miso, don’t ever let me look that stupid again.”
|||
You nervously chewed at your thumb, throwing glimpses to the back of the room every few minutes.
It was Thursday now, and Sukuna still hadn’t responded to your text.
Which, of course, wasn’t bothering you in the slightest.
After all, you weren’t friends. He didn’t owe you a response. He could’ve genuinely been upset with you after what happened on Halloween. You couldn’t totally blame him. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you might have crossed a line, blurring the already nebulous concept of what your friendship was becoming. And asking him to stay? Dear Lord, why didn’t you just get down on a knee and propose?
Still, the delivered checkmark stayed motionless underneath the bubble of the last message you sent him, nagging you every time you opened your conversation to see if he’d even bothered to open your text.
And just like the last time you checked – no change.
It wasn’t until Tuesday, when he didn’t show up for class, that you started to get anxious. Ever since you began making serious progress on your project, Sukuna had begrudgingly attended every class session. While he remained in the back row, simulating disinterest, he actually contributed to a few class discussions, extrapolating on the topics of your working sessions into his own contributions. You rolled your eyes at the arguments he brought up, remembering the debates you had in the library days prior, and he would shoot you a small but wicked grin, clearly reminded of the same thing.
But now, this makes the second class he’s missed, and your stomach tumbled at the lack of notifications that popped up at the top of your banner when he would text you the stupidest messages during class.
In spite of the voice in your head telling you to calm down, you looked back again, seeing only Toji sitting in the back of the room, his feet kicked up on the desk, scrolling through his phone, engrossed in anything but the class subject.
You tried to focus on the lesson, but your professor's normally engaging tone faded into the background like white noise. You opened your messages again, rereading for what felt like the hundredth time. Were you being irritating? Clingy? You couldn’t figure out what was causing this reaction, and even more so, you were pissed that you cared anyhow.
The packing of your surrounding classmates alerted you to the end of class. Quickly, you shoved your laptop in your bag, ascending the steps to the back of the lecture hall before your head could tell you to stop. You paused in front of Toji as he gathered his own things, looking at you from the side of his eye. His face perked up in curiosity as he recognized your nervous face walking up.
“Oh, hey doll. What’s up?”
“Toji, hi.” You started, your fingers tightening on the straps of your bag. “How are you?”
He let out a puff of air, laughing at your congeniality. “I’m doin’ fine. What’s up with you? Haven’t seen you since the party.”
Your cheeks flushed at the reminder. “Yeah, right, Halloween. I wanted to apologize for that, by the way.”
Toji waved you off. “Never apologize for having a good time. You were lit. Don’t be afraid to pull up to another function.”
“Yeah, right, maybe sometime in the future,” you placated, licking your lips. “Listen, I have a question to ask you.”
Toji directed his attention to you, acknowledging you to continue. “Shoot.”
“Have you, um, seen or heard from Sukuna?”
Toji sighed, leaning back and blowing out a breath, but didn’t start to answer. His response sent a shock of nerves through your system, and your mouth opened of its own accord.
“I mean, it’s just – we’re project partners, which I’m sure you knew, and I haven’t heard from him in a few days. Not that we text a lot, or anything, we text a completely normal amount, I just – we need to find another time to meet, is all. And he hasn’t responded to my texts. I’m just concerned, y’know. In a normal, project partner way.”
“Sure, doll,” Toji smirked slightly before running a hand through his hair. “To be honest, I wish I could help you more, but he’s been actin’ weird the past few days. Haven’t really seen or heard from him since Saturday.”
You felt your shoulders sag. “Oh.”
Toji took note of your reaction. “I’ll let him know you need to talk to him, though, if I see him.”
You nodded appreciatively. “Thanks, that would be great.”
He shrugged off your thanks. “No worries. ‘nd I’m serious about that invite. You and your friends were a fuckin’ riot. You should definitely come over more.”
You winced at the drunken state you’d last seen Toji in. “Yeah, we’ll consider it for sure.”
You exited the classroom, lost in thought as you weaved between and around students. You pondered on where exactly Sukuna could disappear to, where neither you nor his frat brothers have seen him in the past few days.
You stopped short when you saw him standing in the quad, chastising what looked like a quivering underclassman.
You felt his voice strike, ringing sharp and true against the poor boy’s spine. It was hard to maintain any semblance of pride when everybody knew you were getting berated by your pledgemaster, but the poor boy tried to maintain a shred of his dignity. His angry tone only seemed to light the spark in your chest as your feet carried you forward, bringing you within feet’s distance of Sukuna before you could register what you were doing.
“Glad to know you’re alive,” you started, eyebrow twitching in irritation as you cemented yourself in front of him.
Sukuna’s head whipped down to yours, his already irritated face cast with another shadow at your sudden arrival. He grunted at the boy still standing in front of him, but kept his eyes on you. “Fuck off.” He jerked his back, clearly indicating to the boy to make himself scarce.
He didn’t need telling twice, immediately scampering off outside the range of Sukuna’s wrath. Sukuna’s arms tightened as he folded his arms, regarding you with as little interest as he could muster. “What?”
You balked at his attitude. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m fine. What do you want?”
His short answers gave you pause. You pursed your lips before contemplating a response. “Is…everything okay?”
He huffed, turning to the side, looking anywhere but your eyes. “I said, I’m fine. What is it?”
“Well, you haven’t responded to my texts.”
“Been busy.”
You blinked rapidly. What had changed between Saturday and today? It felt like you were talking to a completely different person, almost as if all the strides you’d made had been wiped out completely. You wracked your brain, frantically searching for a resolution. “Listen, if this is about Friday night, I am really sorry – ”
“Stop fucking apologizing. I don’t care. It was fine.”
You pressed your lips together. “Okay. Fine.”
You took a moment to look at Sukuna, truly look at him. While he was facing your direction, it felt like his eyes stared through you, dissociating from you, your presence, and the conversation at large. You couldn’t read what was going on behind his eyes. You felt your lips twist up as an ugly feeling overtook you.
“Have you been avoiding me?”
Sukuna didn’t even dignify you with a proper response. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
You squared your shoulders, spurred on by his blowing off of your question. “Are you ignoring me?”
“Why would I be ignoring you?” Sukuna exhaled heavily, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be dumb.”
“No, you’re being fucking dumb! Not responding to texts like a fucking child!” You leaned forward, pointing into his chest. “I had to go back and ask Toji today if he’s seen you! And now you’ve got me standing in the quad, yelling at you like some pissed off girlfriend when I just need to know when we’re meeting on Saturday!”
“Girlfriend?”
You ignored his comment. “Listen, if it’s not what happened on Friday, then I don’t know what’s going on with you. And it’s fine if you don’t have time to meet, because I feel like we’ve made really good progress, and it’s fine if you have other things going on in your life, because I can understand that, but...” You trailed off, your fire fizzling into something more delicate, like the remaining ashes of a burnt tower, once standing proud, now crumbling beneath the slightest pressure.
“You promised things wouldn’t be weird. And I can’t help but feel like they are.”
Sukuna sucked in a breath, staring down at his laces. He stayed silent, letting the festering, gnawing feeling grow in your chest, its moulding spores constraining your breathing.
“I know I shouldn’t have asked you to stay.” You hesitantly let out, searching his downturned face for any semblance of a reaction, something to indicate he was listening to a word you were saying. “And I am sorry if that made you uncomfortable, or if I made things…difficult. But…we can just go back to being project partners. We don’t have to be…” You fumbled, looking for a word to describe what had happened between you two. “We don’t have to be anything more than that.”
For the first time in your conversation, Sukuna raised his eyes to yours, a swirling maroon wind storm, a flurry of emotions you couldn’t deign to comprehend. The crimson brown of his irises sucked you in; your heartbeat skipped.
You willed it all away.
“Let’s just go back to the way things were before, yeah?”
Sukuna took in your state. Your shoulders deflated, your eyes shining with the smallest traces of desperate hope, your fingers anxiously twisting at your bag strap. He wanted to say something to alleviate the stress he caused you. To pull you into his chest like he did that night, to feel your breath against his shoulder, for you to be content in his presence again. He wanted to pry your need to apologize from your grip, to plead with you not feel ashamed of anything, to say he would have done it again ten times over, that the moment on your couch, watching you watch the show he put with a warm, content smile on your face and Miso curled between you two was the best part of his night. He wanted to confess that on Saturday, all he could think about was your dancing figure from the night before, so unburdened and so beautiful, and that he would say whatever it took to have that look again on your face, replacing the distress he caused.
He wanted to tell you that after that, he didn’t want to go back to whatever you guys had before.
He wanted something more.
But he couldn’t admit that. Not to you. Not to himself.
So he lied.
“Okay.”
Your eyebrows lifted. “Okay?”
He sighed, resigned. “Okay.”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Okay, good.” You paused before asking, as if you were worried you were being too pushy, demanding too much. “Does Saturday still work for you to meet?”
“Sure. What time?”
“Um, let’s just do 10?”
Sukuna nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay. Good.” You repeated, a visible weight relieved from your shoulders. “I’m glad we can get back to a semi-state of normalcy,” you attempted a joke, a weak smile pulling at your lips. “I can send you the notes on the classes you missed, if you need them?”
“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll catch up.”
“Oh, alright. Um, also, I need to return your hoodie. Thank you again for letting me borrow it.”
He barely acknowledged your thanks. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll give it back on Saturday.” A silence settled between the two of you, not awkward, but not comfortable either. New, unbounded, uncharted territory as you both reckoned with a new normal. “I’ll see you then?” Your voice rose at the end of your phrase, and your stomach flipped at its hopeful sound.
“Yeah, see you then.”
You hesitated before leaving, so many questions itching at the back of your mind. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
He sighed again, a weariness in his tone. “I promise, I’m fine, princess. I’ll see you on Saturday.”
You almost called him out on it. Princess?
Princess?
That wasn’t back to before.
That wasn’t semi-normal.
Without its teasing lilt, that was domestic. Endearing. Almost cute.
Definitely not normal.
“O-okay. Bye.” You gave him a small wave, quickly turning around and stalking away, still feeling his eyes on the back of your neck.
Behind you, Sukuna flexed his fingers, watching your retreating figure with regret. So many things he wanted to say, but couldn’t bring himself to. He wanted to laugh in disgust at what he agreed to. Back to the way things were before? Back to a state of semi-normalcy?
He didn’t know he could be normal around you anymore.
But that’s what you wanted, and who was he to deny that?
|||
“So are you finally gonna tell us what’s been going on with you for the past few days?”
Sukuna looked up from his laptop, slouched on the couch in the living room of the frat house. Gojo and Toji casually stood in front of him, hands in pockets but serious looks on their faces. Gojo’s normally bright eyes were rendered dull and laced with what Sukuna could only assume was concern.
He scoffed. “What is this, an intervention? I’m fine.”
His two friends glanced at each other before sitting on opposite sides of him. Sukuna pulled back, closing his laptop. “Oh wow, this is an intervention.”
“You’ve been acting crazy for the past week, man.” Toji leaned back, stretching his arms above his head. “Everyone’s noticed.”
“The pledges are dying. It’s not even Hell Week, and some are talking about dropping.”
Sukuna scoffed. “They should. Don’t need anyone like that in the frat if they're talking about quitting so soon.”
Gojo stared hard at Sukuna. “You’ve been too hard on them.”
Sukuna threw his head back, exasperated. “You’ve got to be kidding me. This is bullshit. They’re going through the same shit we did three years ago.”
“The wake-up calls, the morning runs, the food deliveries, the crazy amount of bonding events they have, being on call all the time?” Gojo listed out. “Not to mention them being here to clean the house at 6 in the fucking morning? You’re going insane.”
Of course he was going fucking insane. He hasn’t been able to think straight since he left your apartment almost a week ago, and his head is still reeling from the text you sent, let alone your confrontation in the quad. Semi-normal? Back to the way things were before? Are you joking? And what the fuck did you mean by “regardless of the end of the night” anyway?
Yeah, it was getting absurd, but healthy coping mechanisms had never been his strong suit. And yeah, he might have started to take it out on the pledge class, but they’d recover. Eventually.
“Jesus, this frat’s gotten weak,” Sukuna muttered, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. “I told everyone I was gonna do all this shit when I ran, and now it’s a problem? Fuckin’ ridiculous.”
“What’s your deal? Did someone piss you off?” Toji asked.
Loaded question. Your name raced across his mind, then his own. He sucked his teeth. “I’m fine.”
“Is this about that girl?”
Sukuna’s head turned to face Toji, trying extremely hard to remain neutral. He felt Gojo’s eyes on him as they responded in tandem. “What girl?”
“You know what girl. The one from the Halloween party?”
Sukuna began cracking his knuckles. “There’s no girl. She’s just my project partner.”
“She asked about you when you skipped class this week. Thanks for that heads up, by the way. I wouldn’t’ve shown up if I knew your sorry ass wasn’t gonna.”
“Wait, so you did hook up with her on Halloween?” Gojo asked, glancing at Sukuna, confusion apparent on his face.
“Jesus, no! I already told you that.”
“Then why was she asking about you in class?” Gojo pressed.
“Because he’d been ignoring her texts,” Toji clarified.
“Tell her to join the club.” Gojo snorted. “Why are you ignoring your texts from everybody?”
“Why are you in my fuckin’ business?” Sukuna snapped back. “I don’t need this.” He abruptly stood up, stalking to the kitchen as his friends trailed behind him.
“I’ve never seen you this fucked up over anything, especially not some girl,” Toji muttered, shaking his head.
“Would you all stop calling her some girl? She has a fuckin’ name,” Sukuna threw the fridge door open with more force than necessary, even more pissed off at the empty shelves that greeted them. “And why the fuck are we out of beer?”
“Hey! Can you calm the fuck down for one second and talk to us?” Toji’s voice hardened. “We’re your friends, not your fuckin’ pledges.”
Sukuna inhaled, blowing out the breath slowly, trying to relieve the tension in his shoulders. He closed the fridge before turning around, resting his back against the cool metal and crossing his arms. He tipped his head forward in apology. “Alright. Go ahead.”
Toji paused before starting to talk. “You’ve been stomping around the house like a fucking demon for the past few days, and it’s getting ridiculous. We’re not your caretakers, and whatever drama you have going on in your life is not our problem, but it becomes our problem when you become a fucking nightmare to be around.”
“Not quite how I would have delivered it, but we’re…concerned. Are you good?” Gojo asked.
Sukuna’s head tipped back as he let out a laugh of disbelief. He couldn’t believe how many times he’s been asked that question this week, and still, the answer hadn’t changed from the lie he was telling. “Guys, I’m fine.”
Toji and Gojo glanced at each other again, almost nervous to call bullshit on such an obvious fib. “You’re sure?” Gojo asked.
Sukuna nodded. “I’m fine.”
“So, for clarification, you’re not hooking up with your project partner?” Toji asked.
Sukuna’s eye twitched as the photo you had sent on Halloween crossed his mind, the background coming from where he stood currently, his two friends culprits in one of the starting points of the cataclysm of his feelings. “We are not hooking up,” he let out, his voice stonier than he wanted it to sound.
“You guys are just friends?” Gojo asked, doubt clear in his tone.
Sukuna's eyes were unfocused, thinking about your text and what you had said to him days prior. Friends – interesting how a word seemed to change definitions so quickly. What it had meant two weeks ago, to what it means now, he could only shake his head.
“Yeah. We’re just friends.”
|||
“Just friends” was proving to be harder than both of you realized.
Saturday had arrived faster than you realized, but the trek to the library seemed longer than it had ever felt before. You were the one who established the boundary of going back to normal, whatever that meant, and you’re almost surprised at how much you’re struggling to follow the parameters, which is why you all but stumbled into the library, two cups in your hand: one latte, and one cup of black coffee.
It was truly humiliating how long you stood in front of the register, debating whether to order a drink for Sukuna. You’d done it before, and you hadn’t really thought twice about it then, but this time felt so different – so much more intimate and unclear on its intent than previously.
As the barista shot you the deadest stare known to man, you shakily caved, ordered both your usual and his, and tried to ignore the nagging voice in your head that teased you for your silly little feelings for such a silly little gesture. It was really nothing – a $3 cup of coffee wasn’t going to rupture the already shaky foundations of your relationship.
But another cup sitting in front of Sukuna, smelling suspiciously of hazelnut and vanilla, might send it crashing down.
You stopped dead in your approach, causing Sukuna to look up. “What’s wrong?”
Your brain buffered. “You got coffee.”
“Yeah. It’s nothing, why?” He asked before his eyes trailed to your arms frozen by your side, each with a cup in its hand. “Oh.”
You willed the ground to open up and consume you where you stood. “I just thought – ”
“Guess we had the same thought, then,” Sukuna offered, cutting you off. “It’s fine. I’ll never turn down a coffee.”
You took the out he gave you, quickly lowering yourself into the seat beside him. As you took off your jacket, your elbow gently brushed his bicep. You twitched slightly at the contact. “Sorry,” you breathed out.
“It’s fine.”
You gently pushed the cup over to his already half-empty one, and he handed you the cup he had ordered for you, its contents still piping out. You gingerly accepted, your fingers brushing through the exchange. A spring of electricity coursed through your system, causing you to jerk back slightly. Sukuna gave you a weird look. “You alright?”
“I’m fine.” You answered quickly, turning to avoid his gaze. “Um, what are we working on today?”
“I think we should take a stab at the concession. It’s our least fleshed-out concept, and Yaga will probably tear us apart for what we have currently.”
You nodded, but not really listening as you busied yourself taking your supplies out of your bag. “Sure, that works.”
“Did you find the sources of the counterargument we talked about a few weeks back?”
You went rigid. “Did I…what?”
Sukuna repeated himself, his eyes light with humor. “The readings that address our counterargument, did you get a chance to go through them?”
You blinked. “Did we say something about that last time we met?”
Sukuna nodded, sticking his tongue in his cheek to keep from laughing. “Sure did. Did you forget?”
You were dumbfounded. You couldn’t remember the last time you truly forgot to do part of an assignment, let alone work that you had assigned to yourself. You wracked your brain for a memory of when you talked about this, but everything from the past week clogged your thoughts like a drain, late nights filled with checking your texts, days passed with daydreaming during lectures and recitations. Somehow, in the haze you had walked around in for the past week, counterargument research had slipped your mind.
“I – I must have it on my drive somewhere,” you hastily logged on to your computer, checking your history to see if you had even started an iota of research.
Sukuna grinned, not bothering to hide his amusement at your disorganized state. “No sweat. You can just work on it now, and I’ll watch you do that.”
You shot him a seething glare. “Excuse me?”
“Wow, this role reversal is awesome. You, unprepared, me, having done the work already, and having nothing to do? This is amazing. No wonder you think you’re better than everybody.” He slouched in his seat, kicking his feet up to the other chair across the desk, a smug grin on his face.
You scowled. “I do not think I’m better than everybody, just you. And if you want something to do, you should rewrite that last paragraph addressing the issues of modernist literature. I read it over again, and it needs serious work.”
Sukuna’s eyes read over the paragraph you were referencing and scoffed. “You said it was fine two weeks ago.”
“Yeah, well, I meant ‘fine’ as in it would be a passing grade for a freshman in an introductory course to college writing. It can be better.”
“You’re just pissed that little Miss Perfect forgot to do something, and now you want me to suffer with you.” Sukuna jested.
You were so discombobulated, you couldn’t even come up with a proper comeback. “Just rewrite the paragraph and shut up.”
Sukuna’s devilish smirk only widened when you reached for your cup. “I thought coffee was for people who did their work, remember? For responsible people?” He tsked, turning his head to the side in playful doubt. “I don’t know if I can let you drink that in good faith. Fair’s fair, after all.”
It took your mental willpower not to crush the cup in your hand. Your eyes were locked on each other like targets, challenging each other to rise to the bait. But as you felt your heart rate quicken as his carmine eyes bored into yours, you knew, for your own sake, you had to concede. “Whatever.” You set the cup down, shifting your focus back to your laptop. You plugged in your earbuds for good measure, abruptly ending the banter before it could escalate into something more.
Sukuna’s eyebrows came together in confusion. What just happened? For a second, everything felt as light and blithe as previously – had he taken it too far?
“Hey,” he called out, peering around to catch the expression on your face. It didn’t waver as you continued to type. He sucked his teeth, reaching into your space to gently pull an earbud out of your ear. “Hey. I was joking.”
“I know,” you mumbled, suddenly embarrassed at your shutdown, pulling your earbud away from his grip.
“I don’t care that you forgot to do it. We’re probably ahead of most of the class anyway.”
You sighed. “I know, I just – ”
“I can help. We can work on the counterargument sources together.” Sukuna extended. Before you could reject his offer, he pushed his chair closer to yours, pulling your laptop between you to, ignoring his own laptop mere inches away on the table. “We can knock this out pretty quickly, I think.”
You swallowed thickly, the reduction of space making it feel like the librarian had cranked up the thermostat a thousand degrees. His arm brushed against yours, and he moved your mouse around on the keypad, eyes glancing over what you had begun to search. His gaze flicked over to you, motionless and eyes adamantly focused on whatever was on your screen. “Is this okay?”
You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding. “Yup.”
“I mean, this space. Am I too close?”
Your eyes trailed cautiously over to him, finally meeting his gaze. “I mean, yeah. We’ve been closer.”
Almost as soon as the words left your mouth, you wanted to shove them back down your throat. It was such a low blow, such a tease of a statement to make, but you wanted, needed to know how he’d respond. Now, instead of viciously avoiding eye contact, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him, ready to ingest his reaction for the smallest indication he felt similar to you.
Sukuna’s eyes clouded over at the memory of you curled against him, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Right.” His voice sounded slightly hoarse, a touch too dry. “Just…don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”
You shook your head slightly, still staring. “You’re not.”
The silence settled between you both as each of you waited to make the next move. You wet your lips as his eyes flickered down to your mouth, then back up. He opened his mouth to speak, but neither of your voices were what you heard next.
“Hey guys!”
You both jumped apart, breaking the moment. You felt as though you had been plunged into an ice bath, reality sliding, dripping down your spine. The gravity of what happened, what could have almost happened, settled in your stomach, cementing your feet to the floor of the library. You squeezed your eyes shut, not even bothering to greet whoever just walked up.
Meanwhile, Sukuna’s ears rang as he recognized the voice who interrupted. He tried to keep his gaze level as he met his friend’s eyes. “Gojo. What are you doing here?”
Gojo bounded over, dropping his bag as he sat in the seat across from you. “Just came to do some work and saw you two, so thought I’d come over and say hi.” He turned his bright, peppy attitude over to you, grinning. “Hi angel. How ya doin’? Haven’t seen you since Halloween.”
You flushed at the nickname while Sukuna’s face wrinkled in distaste. “Angel?”
You glanced up at him quickly. “Yeah, it was my costume.” You weren’t sure why you felt like you needed to explain to him.
“I remember,” Sukuna said simply, not taking his eyes off his friend. His two words, easy, yet weighted, were enough to send a shiver down your spine.
You turned back to Gojo, not wanting to ignore him. “Hi, Gojo. I’m doing well, how are you?”
“Better now.” He grinned, blue eyes sparkling. “Listen, I’m glad I caught you. Wanted to ask you something.”
“Oh.” You straighten at his address toward you, discreetly trying to put more distance between you and Sukuna, hoping he wouldn’t notice. (He did.)
Sukuna squinted slightly, trying to figure out what Gojo could possibly want with his project partner, his…friend.
“Remember that restaurant we talked about on Halloween? The one you said you really wanted to try, but it’s super hard to get a reservation?”
You felt your cheeks heat up as you stuttered. “Um, to be honest, not really, but I think I know what you’re talking about.”
Gojo smiled at your embarrassment. Too cute. “Well, I pulled some strings and managed to get a table tonight at 7. Wanted to know if you were free.”
The world stopped for a millisecond. You and Sukuna stiffened at Gojo’s proposition – so casual, so laid back, so natural, it threw you for a loop. You choked as Sukuna barked out, his voice deadly low. “What?”
“Are you free? I know it’s super last-minute, but you mentioned wanting to try it, and I figured I’d ask since you brought it up to me. Would’ve texted, but didn’t have your number.” Gojo explained, still smiling as he looked at you. “Are you free?”
You blinked rapidly, as if trying to wake up from some strange dream. “Are you – are you asking me out?”
Gojo shrugged. “More or less.”
You took a chance to glance over to Sukuna, a sick, twisted part of you clawed to see his reaction.
He kept his face as neutral as possible, but his body language couldn’t lie. His eyes were on fire as his gaze burned into his friend across the table, who seemed to have no regard for the deadly glare powerful enough to level floors. His hands, once relaxed, were curled into fists under the table, veins popping with the pressure. You looked back at Gojo before you stared any longer. “Like, on a date?”
Gojo chuckled lightly. “It’s whatever you want it to be, angel. It’s just dinner.”
Instinctively, you glanced back at Sukuna, who was already looking down at you. His eyes, once alight, seemed guarded now. He shifted under your gaze. “Dunno why you’re looking at me. I don’t care if you go out with this idiot.” His voice was gruff, but held no real bite. You’ve seen him mad before, but you couldn’t place your finger on what he was feeling now.
Gojo glanced between the two of you, smirking now. “Great, since your guard dog backed down, what do you say? No pressure, of course, but I’d love to take you out.”
You couldn’t think straight, instead staring down at the coffee Sukuna had ordered for you, now gone cold. Your mind swirled with what could be going on, what conversations they’ve had behind closed doors, if you gave off any signs of interest at Halloween, if you even were interested in dinner with Gojo. Sure, he’d been nice to talk to, and he seemed to be a good time, but dinner felt so serious, so committed, so solidifying in the fact that you and Sukuna would truly just be friends from here on out.
You dared to look at the man next to you one last time, who now refused to match your gaze, instead staring coldly at his laptop. You bit your lip as you turned to Gojo, nodding your head delicately. “Yeah, sure. Dinner sounds fun.”
Gojo’s face brightened. “Great. Lemme get your number. I’ll pick you up from yours.”
After the exchange of numbers, you and Gojo chatted for a bit, Sukuna remaining silent except for a few grunts here and there. After a bit, Gojo got up, unceremoniously making his exit, leaving you and Sukuna to yourselves, a husk left behind of whatever fragile thing you had begun forming.
You wanted to speak, but couldn’t find the words. You lazily trailed the mouse over different links, eyes glazed as you didn’t ingest anything you were reading. The silence swelled between you two, pregnant and unaddressed, suffocating you both as you waited for the other to say something, to address what was in the room, but neither of you opened your mouth, both twisted shut as the ugliest of emotions festered between you two: Rage, bitterness, jealousy, seething contempt. Disappointment, hurt, coldness, and then…nothing.
Around noon, Sukuna shut his laptop, its click causing your shoulders to tense. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you next week?”
You nodded, calling out a weak “yeah, sure”, but he didn’t stay long enough to acknowledge your answer. He packed his bag with such quickness as if you were diseased, and he didn’t want to be infected, zipping his bag up and throwing it over his shoulder. He waved, his body turned facing the door. “Have a fun date,” the last word brittle and harsh, like he choked on the last line as he said it.
“Thanks,” you whispered, but he was already gone.
You groaned, putting your face in your hands, your shoulders shuddering as you processed what just happened.
You were just friends. You’d said it. He’d agreed to it.
This is the solution you came to to get things back to normal, back to what was familiar and comfortable and natural between you two.
It was supposed to be easy.
So why did “just friends” suddenly feel impossible?
a/n: me when i say i'll update on sunday but i don't lol i'm so sorrryyyyy this took forever but i hope you guys like it <333 ngl i was giggling and kicking my feet at this chapter so i hope you will too. this is not at allll proofread so please extend me some grace lol
also if you asked to be on the taglist and aren't i'm so sorry just messsage me or ask again and i will add you
description -> there wasn't much you and frat boy!sukuna ryomen had in common...except your mutual disdain for partner projects. (un)luckily for the two of you, fate has a way of bringing together the seemingly incompatible. but as the project continues and studying sessions involve less and less studying, you both discover you're learning more about yourselves than the subject matter at hand...
word count -> 7.3k
cw -> kissing || smut (finally!) || dry humping || cunnilingus || mutual masturbation || multiple orgasms || p in v penetration || unprotected sex (you have been warned, this chapter it literally 80% smut) || small fluff at end :)
enjoy pookies! thanks for being so patient and sticking with me for so long - hope you enjoy but also please be gentle bc this is my first time writing smut lol
part eight || part nine || part ten
Sukuna could count on his hands the number of times in his life he’d been nervous. Once, when he was the ring bearer for his older brother’s wedding. The two gold bands sat on top of a red cushion and probably cost more than anything Sukuna had ever held before, and he spent the whole time thinking how much of an idiot his brother was trusting him to walk down the aisle without majorly fucking something up. The second time would have been when Yuji was born, and Jin brought him home from the hospital. Small, frail, and pale, with the signature pink tufts of hair and the softest look on his face, his big grey eyes unscathed, full of curiosity. Jin asked if he wanted to hold him, and Sukuna protested, having never held anything so gentle at such a destructive time in his life. Jin insisted and handed the bundle over carefully, with Sukuna clutching the baby close to his chest, not even breathing in fear of disturbing Yuji’s peaceful slumber.
The third time? Probably now, when you, staring at him with sultry eyes that stopped him in his tracks, walked backward into your apartment with an invitation that he was ready to beg for on his hands and knees weeks ago, with your last line hitting him like bricks to the chest.
Why don’t you come inside and find out?
He nodded dumbly, his mind wiped clear. His body moved on autopilot, his feet stepping before his brain could catch up. He felt your hand slide around his wrist, pulling him into your apartment, like his legs weren’t moving fast enough for either of your liking. He looked down at you, and a giggle escaped your lips.
“Don’t get all shy on me now.”
His mouth was dry.
God, you would be the death of him.
“You nervous or something?”
Fuck, was it obvious?
“No. Just…letting you take the lead.”
You hummed in approval, turning back around, your hand still encircling his as you led him through the front door and to your couch. You turned around, facing him again, gazing up through your lashes, your wide eyes hypnotizing. Sukuna felt himself leaning in and down to your face before you pressed a finger to his chest. He grunted in protest, irritation evident. You only offered a small smile.
“Sit.”
He sat.
Your smile widened. “You listen so well,” you commented, taking small steps forward, still standing, now slightly positioned between his open legs.
“Don’t start.” He took his hands and dragged them up and down your calves, his fingers drumming the back of your knees. His touch was instinctual, your body like a magnet, an attraction his body could not fight any longer.
He had to touch you. He was scared he might combust if he didn’t do so any longer.
“You gonna sit too?”
“Eventually.” You leaned forward, bracing your body on the back of the couch behind Sukuna. He leaned back in tandem, his eyes dark, pupils blown, legs stretching open wider as you brought your knee up, its weight sinking into the couch cushion, dangerously close to his crotch. “I just wanna make some things clear with you.”
He nodded, his hands slowly moving up from your calves to the back of your thighs. You could feel the heat of his hands through the fabric of your jeans, and your chest rose and fell at the memory of when he had his hands last on you. You dragged your other knee up, now fully in a straddling position, and brought your hands down, your fingers playing with the curls at the back of his neck. You saw his Adam’s apple bob as he kept his eyes on you, flicking down to your lips and back up, tracing the planes of your face. His hands kept roaming, the pads of his fingers still curled into your thighs. You hovered above, not fully sitting, teasing, not giving either what you wanted, what you came for, until you laid out stipulations on the table.
You weren’t sure where this confidence was coming from. Maybe it was the liquor running through your veins, liquid courage to get you kneeling above Sukuna, with him, his body so pliant underneath you. Or maybe it was the realization that you held the cards; you always did. For so long, you felt subject to the whims of the wind, where it blew you was the direction you stumbled in, but here, in your apartment, on your couch, with Sukuna looking up at you like you hung his moon and stars, and holding you like you would vanish at any second, you left the power of his desire rush to your head.
“I know you haven’t done this before, but I don’t like to share.” You started. Your thumb rubbed gently up and down the column of his neck, and he licked his lips, forcing his eyes back on yours. “If we’re gonna do this, I need to be it for you.”
“You’re it for me.” He repeated immediately. His earnestness made your lips curl up. “It’s only you,” he said, his voice raspy and low. His hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer. He felt starved like a madman, so hungry, so delirious that he thought you could get him to say anything you wanted. Blood had been rushing south ever since you wrapped your arms around his, and it had only gotten worse when he stepped foot in your apartment, your warm scent like an aphrodisiac, an addiction he wanted to bury himself in. He’d never been reduced to such a state, just pure putty in your hands, and yet, he’s right where he wants to be.
“I only want you.” His hands travelled further up, now resting on your hips, his thumbs sliding just underneath the hem of your white tank, lighting your skin underneath on fire. You inhaled shakily as he brought his head forward and down in solemn devotion, pressing the smallest kiss to your navel, right where the smallest strip of skin was visible between your shirt and jeans. Heat pooled deep, burrowing itself in your core, and you felt your heartbeat quicken, your blood like magma, carrying arousal throughout your being. He looked up at you through his lashes, a desperate craving puddling in his eyes like red rivers, their depth calling to you with the most primal tune that strummed through your entire body, a siren’s cry tantalizing you both.
“Please.” His voice cracked under the weight of his desire. ”Let me show you.”
You both were on the edge. Sukuna was like a chained dog, your leash wrapped around his collar, eyes set on the prize, waiting for the magic words to release him from this prison of torment. Your body, so close to his, your vanilla and hazelnut scent dizzying him so much he couldn’t think straight, the heat from your body and the feel of your fingers on his neck nearly burning him from how good the sensation is. His hands flexed on your sides, and his neck craned up, veins popping from the side as he strained his neck to reach for you.
“Please.”
A cord in you splintered. Your eyes, half lidded, were laser-focused on his. Slowly, agonizingly, you began to sink, dropping your weight on his lap, bringing your mouth closer to his face. Your breath was hot as it fanned over his skin, your whisper sending a shiver down his spine as you brought your lips to his ear.
“Fine. Show me.”
His reaction was immediate. With permission finally granted, his control snapped, leaving behind something animalistic and raw and dripping with want. It washed over and overwhelmed you, both too much and not enough, hot and heavy and everything you two had been craving.
He pulled your body down the rest of the way, refusing to deny himself the closeness of you on him. You gasped as you felt all of him beneath you, the sinewy muscle of his thighs and his hard center, pressing and pulsing against your heat. He swallowed up your gasp in a kiss, devouring the small noises you made when you finally made contact. Your eyes fluttered shut, as if depraving one of your senses would help you control yourself, but you couldn’t help your movements – your hands pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck, lifting his head back and deepening the kiss, your small turns as you nipped at each other’s lips, noses and foreheads brushing, your hips shifting back and forth, trying to relieve the smallest bit of pressure built up from weeks of yearning. His hand came around the back of your neck, his fingers buried in your hair as if he couldn’t bear for you to be further away for a second. His other hand came down to the top of your thigh, guiding you back and forth on his lap. The slight vibrations and the friction of your clothing rubbing against each other sent your heads spinning. He groaned inadvertently when you shifted over his bulge, and his grip tightened in your hair and on your hip, signaling you to move faster.
You broke the kiss for air, and he chased you forward, eyes glassy and pleading as you pulled back, chest heaving. You stared deep into his eyes, the darkest shade of red you had ever seen them, so dark they seemed practically black. He breathed out, voice and expression fucked out, even when you had barely touched. “What’s wrong?”
“Take off your shirt.”
His dick twitched. Like he was cast under a spell, he grabbed the bottom of his shirt, tugging it off and throwing it on the end of the couch, already feigning to get your lips back on his. He kissed you, sucking on your bottom lip as he took your hands, guiding them where he needed them, dragging them down the expanse of his chest, the feeling on your hands on his skin like euphoria, better than anything he could have ever dreamed.
“Touch me,” he whispered against your lips, his words littered between breathless kisses. “Anywhere. Anywhere you want. I need to feel you.”
Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. Greedily, you ran your hands along his skin, feeling every inch of his sculpted, toned body, his heat warming your insides. Your hands gripped his shoulders as you steadied yourself, grinding down on his crotch. He threw his head back, groaning, both hands shooting up to rest on your hips.
“Fuck,” he gritted out, your name coming out like a prayer. “Keep moving.”
You couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. You shifted your hips back and forth, your pace quickening as Sukuna assisted, little whimpers falling from your mouth as you launched yourself forward, burying your face in his neck. You flushed, too overcome with the sensations your body was feeling. Your breath became labored as you tried to control the searing hot ripple bubbling in your stomach. Sukuna took the opportunity to pull you closer, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck, nipping your skin everywhere you were sensitive, thrusting up into you, hardly reigning in his lust.
You dragged your hand down his chest, running over the ridges of his abdomen, curiosity and ardor clouding your mind as your fingers brushed over his clothed dick. You short-circuited when you felt him beneath you, how big and thick and hard he was, just from the little you had done.
He took your hand in his and guided it, rubbing it over himself, voice strained like a rubber band pulled taut. “You see that? You feel that?”
You nodded, unable to speak.
“That’s what you do to me.”
“God, Kuna, please, I – ” you whined, mind too foggy to even know quite what you were asking for.
“That’s how you make me feel.” His mouth only moved more ardently, sucking and nipping, glossing over the marks he was leaving with his tongue, the hot, biting sensation soothed by the gentlest kiss. You moaned when his lips found the back of your ear, the underside right near your lobe, so sensitive that when he pressed his lips there, you felt like your body underwent a factory reset, shuddering in his lap.
“You drive me fucking crazy.”
The coil in your stomach reared back like a viper about to pounce. Another grind along your core hit exactly where you needed it to, and your neck craned back in pleasure. A high-pitched whine escaped from your throat, and your eyes squeezed shut. “God, Kuna, I’m – ”
You felt him grunt against your chest, his arm wrapping around your waist. You yelped when you felt him stand beneath you, your arms flinging back to his neck, and your legs immediately wrapping around his hips. He carried you, supporting your weight with one hand as he made his way through your apartment, pushing your bedroom door open, still peppering kisses along your neck and jaw. Your head swam from the sudden loss of stimulation, and when your back hit the cushiony plush of your comforter, your legs hanging off the edge of the bed, you leaned up, resting your weight on your forearms to stare at Sukuna, who towered above you.
You blinked slowly, trying to steady yourself. “What – what’re you – ”
Your words died in your throat as your vision cleared and you saw him sink to his knees.
His hands came up, caressing the backs of your calves as he spoke. “You need to know how fucking sorry I am for ever making you feel like that. I need you to know.”
“Sukuna, I do know.”
But he only shook his head. “No. I’ll never say it enough. But,” he stared at you with eyes that made your thighs clench closer together. He wet his lips. “Please. If you’ll let me…”
“Kuna…”
“I wanna taste.”
Jesus fucking Christ. You felt your heartbeat stop as your cunt began to pulse. It was as if you could feel every cell rushing through every vein, every sense lit on fire by his words, melodic to your ears.
“Please. Let me taste you.”
You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you only nodded. You began to move your fingers to unbutton your jeans, but Sukuna pushed your hands aside, ready to do it himself.
Painfully, agonizingly slowly, he undid the top button to your jeans, his fingers pulling down at the zipper and brushing over your mound of skin, already sensitive from earlier. You were embarrassed by the slight gasp you let out, but Sukuna couldn’t be bothered by how reactive you were to his touch; if anything, it fueled him.
He unzipped and moved toward your hips, pulling the fabric down over your thighs and knees, finally pulling off each leg and leaving you exposed in your underwear, tank top, and bra. His eyes honed in on your pussy, the lacy black material leaving so little to the imagination, you could almost hear the lewd thoughts spilling from his mind.
But nothing was ever easy with Sukuna. Like he was taunting you, he started at your lower leg, kissing up around your calf, to the back of your knees, up, up, to the plush of your thighs, sharing equal attention to both legs. You couldn’t help but begin to be antsy as he dragged his lips up the lower half of your body, kissing you everywhere but where you needed him.
He pulled at the skin of your inner thigh, biting lightly and still eliciting another gasp from you. You felt him grin against your leg. “So sensitive. Is that all for me?”
Him and his smart mouth. Just moments ago, he was on his knees, pleading to taste you, and now you could feel his canines against your skin, his smile teasing how visceral your body was to his actions. You wish you had the wherewithal to fire something back, but your mind and your heart and every other part of your body would begin to scream if he didn’t touch you the way you needed to be touched. What came out was on the verge of begging. “Kuna, please, I need – fuck! ”
Your plea was cut off by a long, slow, arduous lick up the lips of your pussy, through the fabric of your panties, so vile and crude it felt sacrilegious. Your back arched as his tongue made another stripe up your cunt, your fingers burying into your sheets, both the comforter and your face twisted in pleasure. “Oh, fuck,” you whispered, trying to breathe through the stimulation of his mouth and your panties working in tandem to wind you up.
You felt your legs begin to lock together, closing in around Sukuna’s head, and he brought his hands up to the outer sides of your legs, giving him leverage to push his face deeper into your cunt. His tongue lapped against your cotton gusset, already soaked from your arousal, and now dripping from his wetness. He pressed open-mouthed kisses against your core, pecking all around your clit to the point where you felt like you were vibrating from your aching cunt, all but pleading to be touched.
“Sukuna, please.”
“I know, princess, I know. Just wanna make you feel good.”
You were past the point of feeling good. You sighed as you fell back into your comforter, too wrapped up in your pleasure to hold yourself up any longer, instead trying to focus on keeping yourself together as his mouth continued working.
This wasn’t your first time being intimate with someone, but Sukuna was unraveling you in a way that made you blush like a virgin. With others, sex felt more like a means to an end. A transaction acts unspoken until necessary, a “not there”, a “wait, that doesn’t feel good”, an awkward laugh as you adjust positions - something to relieve stress and get both parties off quickly, if you were so lucky.
Sukuna, who was just rough and tumble and aggressive and sullen all over, instead, cupped his hands around your waist like you were glass, his tongue lapping at your essence like a dog in heat. He reached up, still kissing your cunt, wrapping his fingers around the elastic band and tortuously pulling down, your slick pulling glossy strings down with it. You whimpered as the cool air hit your pussy, leaving you so exposed in front of him. Your body was flushed all over, but you still couldn’t help but feel embarrassed with your level of exposure, with Sukuna’s eyes devouring every last inch of you. You writhed in his grip, but his fingers held you still.
“Nah, don’t run, let me have a look.”
You shut your eyes as you felt his thumb rub over your lips, ghosting over your clit.
“So pretty,” he muttered, his hot breath hitting your wetness.
And all of you was so pretty. A sight to be seen, one he revealed in you being kind enough to show him. He watched as your back arched off the bed, your chest heaving up and down, skin glistening as his fingers and mouth worked you up, you shuddering as his mouth ghosts over your clit, your subtle thrusts forward as you tried aimlessly to grind yourself on his mouth, begging for a hint more of friction. It was cute, honestly, seeing you pretend not to be so needy.
Your whimpers felt like they had a direct line from your throat to his blood, fueling him, egging him on. He finally caved, wrapping his lips around your bud, and the moan that left your mouth was heaven to his ears. Your fingers ran through his hair, nails dragging across his scalp as you pulled his face closer to you, as if asking him to ruin you wholly. He smiled as you began to fall apart beneath him, your breaths turning into pants, your pussy squeezing around nothing, coaxing to be filled. He felt himself rutting into the bed frame in front of him, chasing the high he was currently giving you.
He sucked on your clit, and it pulled out another moan from you as you trembled beneath him. He kissed it gently, looking up at you with the most reverent, pussy-drunk eyes that made your stomach do flips. “You taste so fuckin’ good, baby.”
Baby? Your hand flew up to your mouth to muffle the wanton sounds you couldn’t control spilling from your mouth. Your eyes were screwed shut as you felt yourself tumbling, your breath fighting to escape your lungs, the coil in your stomach so fucking tight you thought you would die if it weren’t released. You felt Sukuna’s teeth nip at your bundle of nerves, and you choked back a scream, your hand pressing more firmly into your mouth as you reared your head back even deeper into your mattress.
Sukuna’s tongue clicked in the back of his throat. The gasps and moans coming from you, whether involuntarily or not, were quickly becoming some of his favorite sounds, and he wouldn’t stand for you taking that away from him.
You felt Sukuna’s hand reach up, wrapping around your wrist and pulling it down from your mouth. “Mhm, lemme hear you, princess.” His fingers intertwined with yours as he pushed his tongue deeper into you, still lapping over your clit as you sighed, the pleasure washing over you like waves.
“God, Sukuna, it’s – I’m gonna – ” You were so beside yourself you couldn’t even form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. You felt your mind start to go white, your breath coming out fast and sharp as the pressure became insurmountable.
“It’s ok, it’s ok,” he soothed, still gripping your hand with one and rubbing the side of your thigh with the other. His pace never ceased, his tongue rolling small circles over your bud as you felt your climax building higher and higher. He tugged on your arm, prompting you to raise your head and locking eyes with him, his pupils so blown it felt like you were staring into midnight.
“Come for me, baby.”
A searing, white-hot flash, then stars, spinning as you felt your spine arch, your fingers squeezing his hand as you came, his mouth still kissing you through your orgasm. The release of pressure felt so good that you could feel the tears pricking at your eyes, your gasps deep like you were trying to catch your breath. You twitched as Sukuna continued to lap you up, his chin and lips wet from your release, and you couldn’t decide if you wanted to push him away or if you needed him closer. “Kuna,” you moaned, too overstimulated to manage anything else out.
He kept circling, kept licking, kept kissing like a man addicted. Like it was his full-time job, like if he stopped, you would escape his grasp, fall just out of reach again, like things would go back to the way they were.
“Just one more, princess. You taste so damn good. Can you give me one more?”
You shook your head, crying out. “It’s too much, please – ”
You were cut off by a silent cry, a sob that wracked your body as he rolled over your puffy clit again, your body overheating with how much you were feeling at once. You heard Sukuna grunt as your fingers curled in his hair, as if you were trying to ground yourself in his pink tufts. You whimpered out his name again, your second climax rapidly approaching.
“One more, baby, I need it. Please, just give me one more.”
It’s like his voice was a trigger with how responsive your body was to it. You gasped as your second orgasm wrecked your body, your thighs shaking as they wrapped around Sukuna’s head. His entire being was light from the pressure and essence of you all over his tongue; he felt deluded. Your eyes fluttered shut as your head lolled to the side, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to steady yourself, your entire body still buzzing from the two orgasms he pulled from you with just his mouth.
He pressed one last kiss to your pussy, and crawled up from his kneeling position, his body hovering over you. He wiped his mouth with his hand, licking up the last bit of you as you looked down at your figure, his smile bigger than you had seen it. The moonlight streaming from your window cast an angelic glow over your body, your skin practically illuminated as he drank your figure in.
“So gorgeous,” he whispered, leaning back down to press kisses against your neck. “You’re so beautiful. You did so well, princess.”
You moaned lightly, rolling your head back to give him more access. He kept kissing along your jaw as he spoke. “Are you ok? Was that too much?”
You opened your eyes, your half-lidded irises trailing over your project partner’s face. The same face that stared at you so sullenly, whose eyes flashed an angry red when you dared to talk back to him in the library, whose jaw clenched when you’d even entertained the idea of being interested in someone else, from whose mouth dripped nicknames and praises and words that made your stomach churn and pussy flutter, was now leaning above you, shirtless in his tanned and inked glory, asking if you were ok, attraction coming off his skin in heat waves.
You brought your hand up to his chest, your fingers daintily coming around the back of his neck, gently pulling him closer to you for a kiss. His mouth met yours, his hand resting between the juncture of your jaw and neck, cradling you as if you were something fragile. You pulled at his bottom lip, biting gently as you let go, looking at him with eyes coated in a mist of lust.
“Ryo, I need you.”
His world stopped. He became so painfully aware of his dick, aching, hard as a rock pressing against the seam of his pants, the front already damp from pre-cum that he felt his whole body vibrate. The veins in his arms popped as his grip tightened in the sheets below you. He thought he misheard you, but the look on your face and the need in your tone couldn’t be mistaken.
“You – ”
“I need you,” you repeated, leaning up. Your hands moved to the bottom hem of your white tank, pulling it over your head and leaving you in nothing but the lacy black bra that cupped your curves just right. You saw Sukuna’s throat move in a swallow, his eyes flicking between your chest and face, like he didn’t know what to look at.
He leaned forward, stalking toward you like a tiger, and you leaned back in tandem until the back of your head hit the pillow, and you were inches apart. You took a sharp inhale when you felt his heaviness pressing against your leg. His voice was strained as you spoke.
“Are you sure?”
You bit your lip, nodding. Your bra strap slipped off your shoulder, and his eyes tracked it like he was hunting. He rocked back, kneeling on your bed, his fingers nimbly unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans as a shadow crossed his face, his features impossibly sharper and eyes dark like dying stars, glinting in the night.
“Show me.”
Your pussy clenched. Your mouth went slightly dry. “What?”
“Show me how much you need me.”
This cocky motherfucker. Your breath was shaky. The tension had been built so high up that you couldn’t separate your gazes of fear of shifting the veil, removing yourselves from this singular moment where it was just you and him, eyes boring into each other, fires burning so passionately and breaths so aligned it was as if there was only one in the room to share.
Slowly, you brought a hand down toward your center, aching and leaking and begging to be filled, and deliberately took two of your fingers, spreading your folds, and began to rub, warming yourself up but keeping your eyes locked on him.
Sukuna’s inhale was sharp as he slid his belt out of his pants, swiftly taking them off and began palming himself over his boxes, his tip beading pre-cum and growing harder by the second as he watched you touch yourself. He ran a thumb over his tip, and you saw his abdomen contract, his Adonis belt sharp and mouthwatering and oh so tempting as you traced a vein down, disappearing into the black band barely obscuring the last part of Sukuna’s toned body. His dick was upright, flushed against his abs, and you felt your walls flutter as you looked back up at him, his jaw clenched so tight as he tried to control himself.
You touching yourself wasn’t enough, not after the ecstasy he’d given you only moments prior. You needed more, needed him, in you, filling you up, forcing you to chase that high of pleasure again. You settled for dipping a finger in, your head softly hitting the back of the pillow as your mouth opened, forming a small ‘o’ as your gasps came out in little pants.
Somewhere in your haze, Sukuna had discarded his boxers, leaving himself fully exposed to you, his dick flushed and red and erect in all its glory. He stroked it up and down, matching the pace of your fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, as if transfixed. The wet, slick sounds in the room made you want to turn away in shame, but Sukuna knew you, knew your body and reactions, too well.
He shook his head, his voice deep. “Eyes on me, princess.”
You wanted to cry in protest, but you kept going, barely holding your head up to stay focused on him, on his irritatingly handsome face, his eyes, which gave away how much he was affected by you, even if he didn’t want to admit it. You felt your free hand go up to hold yourself, clutching at your breast as your finger and thumb rolled over your nipple through the lace, your body begging for another form of stimulation as you remained locked under Sukuna’s gaze.
You added another finger, trying to simulate an iota of sensation that Sukuna would, but it still wasn’t satisfying. You pressed up, curling, trying to hit your sweet spot, but you couldn’t get there, no matter how hard you tried. “Ryo,” you whined, dragging out his name in a way that made his dick twitch and body shudder. “Please, stop teasing. I need you.”
Fuck. Your words wrapped around him, seeping into his pores and entering his nervous system like a drug. He was an addict, addicted to you, to your voice, to the scrunch of your nose, to the way you looked sprawled on your bed. Every inch of you, he craved, wanted to know intimately like a painter knows his subject. He watched intently as your fingers dipped inside you, and his heart hammered at the idea of sheathing himself in you, the thought making his head rush.
He crawled forward, coming closer to you, capturing your breath in another kiss. He pulled back and took your hand you had touched yourself with, still glistening and wet from your slick, and brought it to his mouth, sucking your taste off each of your fingers, all the while staring at you with a gaze that had you at a loss for words.
He let go of your fingers with a pop, then lowered himself to hover over you, reaching down to line himself up with your entrance. He rubbed his tip between your folds, and you moaned at the simple act. Sukuna hissed, trying not to bust when he hadn’t even gotten the chance to sink into you yet. He grunted, whispering your name. “Tell me if it hurts.”
You nodded, too turned on to do anything but. He breathed out, then, slowly, pushed in.
“Fuck!” He grunted. He’d barely made it through your first ring of muscle, and your walls were so tight, pussy gripping onto him like a vice, he was worried if he went any deeper, he’d finish prematurely. Your hands immediately scrambled to his bare back, your nails digging into the muscle as you gasped at the feeling of him entering you. You knew he was big, but Jesus Christ, you were worried he would split you in two.
You hung off his back as he paused, searching your face for inklings of pain or signs of discomfort, you both panting as your chests rubbed together. His stopping felt like torture. “Keep going,” you breathed out.
“You’re gonna kill me, princess,” he muttered, but obliged, pushing more of himself in until he bottomed out with a groan, your walls tight and sticky and warm and every bit as narcotic as he thought they would be. He felt he could die here, trapped between your walls, with your wide, watery eyes staring up at him, lips swollen and glossy with spit from your kisses, and so beautiful underneath him he felt like an idiot for taking so long to realize.
“You okay?”
You nodded, fingernails digging deeper into his back, and he groaned at the pain that brought him such pleasure. “Please, Ryo, move.”
He didn’t need to be told twice; his hips moved in sharp, snapping forward motions that made your eyes flutter closed and move in sync with him. Each thrust sent you both deeper and deeper into oblivion, your head so foggy all you could do was moan as his tip kissed your cervix, so deep inside you, you almost wanted to scream.
His hand and mouth found your chest, his lips kissing and sucking and biting at the chest above your chest as his fingers worked blindly to unclip your bra. The lacy black material fell to the wayside as he moved down, rolling one nipple between his fingers and the other over his tongue. The combination of his size filling you up so perfectly, and his fingers and mouth on you, left you babbling, chants falling out of your mouth as you felt your body shake. Your nails scratched down his back, trying to release the pent-up tension in your body in any way you can.
You felt your voice leave your body when his hand came down to push your leg up, pistoning deeper at an angle that left you seeing stars. He grunted, pressing his leg up as he hit a gummy patch in your walls, and you screamed his name, too fucked to care about your volume. “There she is.”
“Fuck, Ryo,” you sobbed, feeling past the point of no return. Each drag of his dick along your walls, feeling each vein rub against your skin, the slick wet sounds, and the smell of sex permeating the air, all sent you spiraling, tumbling down uncontrollably into your climax, this time building like a boulder in your stomach.
Sukuna felt it coming as you squeezed around him. He maintained his pace, bringing his mouth up closer to your ear, kissing along your neck and jaw as he spoke.
“Whose dick is this?”
It was like the gasp was ripped from your chest. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer; it might’ve sent you over the edge. You warbled out a mumble, but it wasn’t enough, not for Sukuna.
“Nah, I’ve been dealing with that smart mouth all semester. Don’t get all quiet on me now.” You felt him drag his thumb down, rubbing small circles over your bundle of nerves. You would kill him if you didn’t want to come so badly, tears started to fall, sliding down your cheeks. He only smiled, kissing the trails away, the masochist.
“C’mon, baby. Whose dick is this?”
A sob wracked your body. “It’s mine,” you cried out.
“That’s right, it’s all yours. I'm all yours, ‘nd only yours.” He punctuated each word with a thrust you could feel in your throat, your clit screaming from his thumb, and body wound so tight, you could feel yourself beginning to fall. He felt his climax coming too, his dick so hard it felt like it would fall off, and he leaned down, swallowing your cries in a kiss before whispering to you again.
“Now come for me, princess. Please.”
This last orgasm shook you to your core, ransacking your body and leaving nothing left. You gushed out, a high-pitched moan shuddering from your body as he kept thrusting, his orgasm chasing swiftly after yours. The feeling of your constricting around him, your juices flowing from your last climax, you cum mixing and acting like a lubricant, all made him feel crazy. His thrusts got sloppy and erratic as he neared. “Fuck, baby, you did so good, you feel so fucking good.”
“Ryo,” you whispered sleepily, every ounce of energy drained from your body as you came down from your high.
He looked up at you.
“Come inside me, baby.”
Shit. You looked so perfect, so fucked out, so otherworldly as you stared back up at him. You had done so well, had taken him so well, he almost faltered. “You –”
“Please, Ryo.”
Fuck, you’d be the death of him. He leaned forward, feeling so good he damn near whimpered into your neck, his face twisted as his hips stuttered as he came, filling you with hot ropes, the white substance leaking from your pussy as you both groaned from the feeling of him finishing inside you.
With a shaky breath, he lowered himself carefully, still lodged between your thighs, his weight resting on you but not crushing you, enveloping you safely. He wiped another tear from your cheek as you caught your breath, your eyes barely open. He kissed each eyelid lightly to not disturb you. “You ok?”
You nodded, too overwhelmed to bother forming a sentence. You two stayed like that, bodies connected, warmth transferred as you twitched around him, still so, so sensitive. Without thinking, your hands went up to his chest, tracing the sharp lines of ink that ran across his torso, up towards his neck, down towards his hip bones. You felt his shift inside you, still half hard from what had just transpired. You shook your head as he smiled without remorse, tugging you closer. “You’re impossible.”
He only kissed you in response, this one gentle, and slow, careful as he gently stroked your side. He stole your breath, pulling back and leaving you dizzier than previously.
“You always this touchy after sex?” You asked, winded and delirious from the past hours’ events.
He shook his head. “Just with you. Only with you.”
You sighed as he finally pulled out, his warmth leaving you feeling empty and already craving his touch again. He stood, heading to your bathroom and grabbed a wet, warm cloth, coming back and wiping you down carefully. Only then did he climb back into your bed, pulling the covers over your bodies, as if the heat you two generated wasn’t enough to keep you both warm, and pulled you into his chest, your limbs tangled, so intertwined it was hard to tell where he ended, and you began.
The sleep that overtook you both was the most peaceful you’ve had in months.
You only arose the next morning when the sunlight streamed through your window, its rays casting a glow on your face as you stirred, your back absent of Sukuna’s large, muscled warmth. You took in a breath, rubbing your face with your hands, and were distressed at the makeup from last night smudged around your eyes.
You turned, covering your body with the loose-fitted sheet, and furrowed your brow at the smell of something being fried in your kitchen. You rolled out of bed, slipping on some clean underwear and a discarded hoodie littered on the floor, and padded out of your room, your stomach grumbling at the idea of breakfast.
You stopped short at the sight of Sukuna, in your kitchen, shirtless, hips resting against the stovetop as he fried eggs, two plates with buttered toast waiting to be served. Miso sat in the corner of the room, slightly miffed at the not-so-strange stranger in her kitchen but pleased she had been acknowledged and fed by someone. She meowed at your disheveled entrance like a disappointed roommate, keenly aware of what transpired last night.
Sukuna looked up, attuned to your arrival. His eyes shot down to your bare thighs, trying to conceal his smirk at the love bits you clearly hadn’t noticed yet. “Hey.”
“Hey.” You had the nerve to sound sheepish. You cleared your throat. “Uh, good morning.”
“More like afternoon. It’s past 12.”
“Oh.” You fiddled with the ends of your sleeve. “Right. Guess I was really tired.”
“Princesses need their beauty sleep, right?” He chided, flipping the eggs in the pan, their yolks a royal gold color.
You hummed, propping yourself up on the counter behind Sukuna as he turned his attention back to the stove. Your eyes widened, and you flushed at the red, raised marks like claw stripes on his back, and the memories of last night came rushing back in a wave of heat.
“Hey,” he murmured. Your head snapped up, and he stood in front of you, pressing a finger against your forehead. “Don’t get trapped in there. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Nothing.”
His eyebrows flicked up as he caged you in, his thick arms resting on the countertop on either side of you, bringing his face in close. “What’s wrong?”
It was evident he wasn’t gonna let this go. You bit your lip before asking. “What…is this? What are we now?”
His eyes widened in incredulity, but all he could do was laugh when he saw the earnestness in your face, the vulnerability in your question. He let out a disbelieving laugh. “You serious? Did you actually just ask me that?”
You shrugged. He stared harder.
“I meant everything I said to you. In the library, at the party, certainly last night.”
You flushed before prattling on. “I just thought – ”
He tsked. “Stop doing that. You think too much. Complicates shit.”
He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead before turning back around, scooping the eggs out of the pan and serving them on top of the toast, bringing a plate and fork over to you. He took a bite of toast, chewing as he continued.
“Like I said last night, I’m all yours. And by the way you were screaming my name, I’d assume you feel the same.”
You scowled, your leg going out to kick him as he dodged, laughing at your antics. “You didn’t even ask me, dickhead.”
“Ask you what?”
“To be your girlfriend,” you mumbled shyly, kicking your feet as if you both hadn’t bared your souls to each other just last night.
Your chastity made him bite his inner cheek. You were too damn cute for your own good. “You want me too?”
You shrugged again, reaching for your toast. “Princess treatment, right?”
He smiled despite your feigned ambivalence. “Alright.” He grabbed your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, staring at you deeply with content and admiration and a mix of something else you weren’t quite ready to name, reflecting at you in his eyes.
He said your name like it was his favorite thing to hear. You hummed, as if telling him to proceed.
“Can I be your boyfriend?”
You smiled, flicking your brow up. He sighed, shaking his head.
“Please?”
The grin that stretched across your face made his heart skip a beat. You wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing his face closer to yours.
“Hmm, maybe I was right. You are a fast learner.”
His hands found your hips, rubbing small circles there as he grinned back, the type of grin he could only let you see.
a/n: and just like that, baby's first fic completed! i'm so proud and genuinely so grateful to have amazing readers whose comments fuel me and bring me life!! ilysm <33 i have a lot of ideas for new fics with new characters but fear not as frat!kuna will always hold a special place in my heart and i will def be writing more one shots of him and lovely reader :)) hope you guys enjoyed this and are willing to stick around with me for more content <3
summer is finally here! which means i'm going to be writing about some of my favorite jjk characters in self-indulgent summer scenarios! masterlist provided below! see you at the beach :)
cw: fluff! no nsfw, slightly suggestive themes, some cursing
description -> there wasn't much you and frat boy!sukuna ryomen had in common...except your mutual disdain for partner projects. (un)luckily for the two of you, fate has a way of bringing together the seemingly incompatible. but as the project continues and studying sessions involve less and less studying, you both discover you're learning more about yourselves than the subject matter at hand...
word count -> 10.2k
cw -> yearning || mutual pining || like, medium burn? || eventual smut || drinking || smoking || cursing || mean sukuna (but only if you squint) || side frat!gojo x nerd!reader || jealousy || slight angst (but like only a little) || slight angst (it's no longer minimal sorry)
part seven || part eight || part nine
You and Sukuna sat in his bedroom on the top floor of the frat house, textbooks open in between as you both attempted to study the words that ran meaninglessly across the pages, too distracted by each other’s presence to care about whatever assignment you should have been focusing on.
With the library temporarily closed for renovations, and his frat brothers gaming on the TV downstairs in the living room, Sukuna offered his bedroom as a last place of refuge to get some work done, not realizing the future implications you, his ultimate distraction, in his haven, would have on his ability to focus.
He lay lazily on his side on top of his comforter while you took the desk, hunched as you poured over the text, your glasses slipping down the bridge of your nose as you scrunched your brows, eyes squinted in faux concentration. He watched you with a small smile on his face as you mouthed the words to what you were reading, desperately trying to keep your eyes on the pages in front of you instead of your partner behind.
“Hey.” His baritone voice rumbled, smooth like a stone buried in a riverbed. You glanced up, mouth slightly parted as your wide, curious eyes met his. “C’mere.”
You tilted your head in confusion, but rose nonetheless, slowly coming to kneel on the edge of his bed, the mattress sucking you in as you tucked one foot underneath you. “What’s up?”
“Need help studying for physiology,” he started, pushing his pile of flashcards with sloppily drawn anatomic figures and terms on the back toward you.
You shook your head, laughing slightly. “That is not what we are supposed to be doing. Besides, I didn’t take physio. I can’t help you with this.”
“Sure, you can. You’re a genius. Just quiz me on the muscle groups,” he offered, rolling off his side and closer to your seated figure.
Your mouth curled into a smile as you fingered through the cards, trying to parse through his scribbled notes. “Kuna, I can’t read these. Your handwriting’s horrible.”
He leaned close into you, looking over your shoulder at the notes he had taken, and ignored the way your body tensed as you felt his breath fan over your neck. “Huh. Yeah, it is pretty shit.” He turned to you, his eyes a deep, rusted shade of red. “Looks like we’ll need a new reference.”
You swallowed, but maintained eye contact, your voice shaking slightly at his proximity and intense gaze. “Okay then. What should we use?”
“Use me.”
Your eyes clouded over. “Use…you?”
He nodded, his voice like velvet. “Use me as a model.”
“You mean…like – ”
“My body, princess.” He finished your statement, cocking his head at your flustered state, biting back a grin.
You fought to keep your breathing steady. “And - you’re sure this will help you study?”
“Absolutely.”
You adjusted your position on the bed, Sukuna turning his back to you, and rested on your knees to better accommodate his frame. You licked your lips, trying to remain steady. “Ok. So, do you want me to just…point, and you tell me the muscle group?” You didn’t comment on how you wouldn’t know if he was right or wrong, too overwhelmed by the closeness and sheer absurdity of what you were doing.
“How am I supposed to see what you’re pointing to?” He chuckled, purposefully leaning back onto his hands, flexing the muscles in his arms and invading your space even more. “You can touch me. Or am I that repulsive to you?”
You shook your head before you realized he couldn’t see you. “No. Not repulsive. Just…” Your eyes trailed over his backside, and you daintily fingered the short sleeve of his top. “Your shirt.”
“What about it?”
“It’s…in the way.”
He didn’t think twice before bringing his hands to his shirt’s bottom hem, pulling it over his head, leaving his tanned, inked back, sculpted, and hard from sinewy muscle on display to you.
“Better?”
Your mouth was dry. “Mmhm.”
Your hands hovered over his skin, unsure, as if his sun-kissed figure was fire, heating the underside of your palm, tantalizing, taunting, dangerous. You shook slightly as the pads of your fingers ever so gently brushed over his shoulders, then down, down, down, the rippling peaks and valleys of his back, tracing the indent of his spine.
You felt him inhale beneath you, the same way a flame does when it senses something nearby to consume. He hadn’t anticipated what your touch would finally feel like, bare skin against skin, ghosting over him so lightly, like feather kisses. He wasn’t used to such kindness in a touch, such fragility, such gentleness, and he couldn’t believe he was receiving it from you.
He needed more.
You weren’t even trying, and you were driving him crazy. His mind was blinking lights and flashing colors, a monster of a man reduced to his rudimentary abilities with one soft gaze from you. You hover, your scent, the way he felt your eyes on him – he wanted to devour you. Swallow you whole and leave nothing behind. Press into you and hold your hand as his teeth sank into your skin, your taste being the last thing on his tongue. He ground out your name, his voice almost wounded.
You wet your lips. “Yeah?”
“Stop being shy. Touch me.”
Your hands were hot as they brushed along his back, your feel of him more sure, more firm, more sensual. You spread your fingers across his expanse, your eyes serious as you asked for the names of the muscles you grazed.
“What’s this?” Your finger traced the outline of a wing on the left side of his back, right by where his arm and shoulder connect.
His voice was breathy, as light as his head felt. “Teres major.”
Your fingers sank, running down his lower back. “And this?” Your voice was low and rich, plucking his heartstrings like a bassist, strumming, eliciting a low, guttural groan from his chest.
“That’s – those are my lats. Latissimus dorsi.” He grunted out, breathless, trying to keep from slouching into your frame. He was worried he was already too far gone, his mind a mess, blood rushing from his head south. His fingers curled into the comforter, gripping it tightly to steady himself, tendons and veins taut in his forearms.
Your hands receded, and he twitched, already missing the feeling of you on him. He tsked disapprovingly, and restrained himself from leaning back in search of you. A quiet moment passed before he heard the rustle of his comforter, the sink of your weight inching closer to his. He felt your breath tickle the top of his back, edging so close to the nape of his neck, the heat of your body the only thing separating you two by mere centimeters, just enough to send him into delirium.
“And, this?”
Your lips pressed right at the center junction where his neck met his upper back, not lingering, but long enough before you pulled away. His eyes fluttered shut as his body shuddered, so charged, so sensitive, he could feel the stain of gloss you left behind, taking your heat with you as you retreated.
“What was that, Kuna?”
His eyes flashed open as he gasped, shooting up from his bed. He looked around, chest heaving as he took in his environment.
Dark room. Curtains drawn.
You, nowhere in sight.
He’d had a fucking dream about you, like he was back in middle school.
He groaned as he fell back into his bed, his heels rubbing against his eyes, as if he was trying to wipe away the memories of his imagination.
It’s too much. He wasn't himself, past the point of recognition, past the point of willful ignorance. And while he knew this was a problem he’d have to confront soon, he couldn’t help but be distracted by the bigger problem currently pressing against the seams of his boxers.
The next morning, he could feel the restlessness from the previous night seeping into his bones as he trudged toward the gym with Toji. The grey, overcast morning encapsulated exactly how he was feeling, and Toji seemed determined to make his mood worse.
“You look like shit,” he commented.
“I feel like shit,” Sukuna groaned back, wiping a hand down his face as if that would alleviate his fatigue. They swiped access into the campus gym and set their items in the locker room, the showers being practically empty on a Sunday morning.
Sukuna stripped, putting on his athletic wear as Toji started talking again. “Late night?”
“Something like that.”
“With that girl?”
“Yes, alright?” Sukuna snapped, angrily shutting the door of his locker closed. “If something’s wrong with me, you can probably assume it has something to do with her.”
Toji just stared, nonplussed at Sukuna’s reaction. “Well, are you gonna do something about it?”
Sukuna scoffed in incredulity. “Are we actually gonna talk about this now?”
Toji shrugged. “Rather talk through this than whatever bullshit we normally talk about.” He rolled his eyes at Sukuna’s disgusted face. “Don’t make this more awkward than it has to be. You’re clearly going through it, and I’m tired of feeling like I’m living with a girl. So talk. Or don’t. Either way, stop being a bitch about it, because it’s really starting to piss me off.”
Sukuna grunted, grabbing his water bottle and heading into the main floor of the gym, finding a free bench and loading plate after plate on each side of the barbell, Toji helping silently as soft music played over the gym’s speakers. As Sukuna tucked himself under the bar, resting his back on the bench, he muttered to Toji as he leaned against the side of the rack. “It’s stupid.”
Toji shrugged. “Can’t be more stupid than how you’ve been acting.”
Sukuna’s hands dropped to his chest as he breathed out. “I don’t really know what to do with her.”
Toji raised his eyebrows, insinuating that he go on.
“I think I like her. As more than a friend.”
“You think?” Toji grunted, coming to stand behind the bar. “I could’ve told you that. C’mon, start your set.” He hovered his hands under the bar, helping Sukuna start his first couple of reps.
Sukuna grunted as he began pushing the weight above his chest. “She asked just to be friends, and I’m trying, but she drives me crazy. I’ve never done this before.”
“What, like someone?”
He exhaled as he re-racked the weight. “Not seriously.”
“Just ask her out,” Toji said as they switched, Sukuna spotting him as he lifted the bar. “What’s the big deal?”
“I told you, she wants to be friends. Or go back to normal. Whatever that fuckin' means.”
“Damn. That sucks.” Toji huffed, pushing the weight back up and down. “When’d she say that?”
“After Halloween.”
“Oh, when you started getting real pissy. Makes sense.”
“Haven’t been pissy.” Sukuna watched Toji struggle with the weight for a second before helping him get the last rep up.
“Yeah, right, drama queen.” Toji wiped his hands on his shirt as he got up, taking a sip from his water bottle. “So, you told her you want to be something more, and she said no?”
“I haven’t told her anything.” He felt Toji’s hard stare on him as he leaned over the bar, his arms crossed.
Toji scoffed. “Pussy.”
Sukuna’s head whipped over, his eyes blazing. “Oh, fuck off. This is why I don’t tell you shit.”
“You don’t tell me shit because you know I’m right.” Toji chided, rolling his neck. “Either grow a pair and actually ask her out, or put yourself out of your misery and get over it.”
“Oh, right, because it’s that easy. Ask her out, then do what?” Sukuna ran a hand through his hair. “Date her? I don’t know how to do that shit.”
“You didn’t know how to ride a bike either, but you learned.”
Sukuna paused. “It’s different. I don’t want my shit to affect her. She’s so…together. And deserves someone who can be more… I don’t know, together…with her.”
“Together, like who, Gojo?” Toji laughed at the withering gaze on his friend’s face. “Jesus, I was joking. Chill.”
Sukuna groaned, putting his face in his hands. “See what I mean? I’m a fucking mess. A jealous, stupid fucking mess. So jealous I was ready to wring Satoru’s neck when he asked her out the other week. She doesn’t want someone like that.”
“You don’t know that. You’re making that decision for her based on what you think.”
“What I know.”
“What you think you know.”
Sukuna scowled. “What’s your point here, exactly?”
“You don’t know what’s going on in her head, and you won’t until you ask.” Sukuna leaned up from the bar, letting Toji underneath as he began to spot him. Toji continued, saying, “I think you’re fucking yourself over by making assumptions that aren’t necessarily true.”
“It’s not an assumption to recognize that we’re just really different people.”
“Different people who constantly look like they want to fuck each other at any given moment.”
Sukuna let out a puff of air, ignoring Toji’s vulgar statement. “I don’t wanna mess anything up. It’s weird, but I like whatever we have, even if it’s a little fucked, and I don’t wanna ruin it.”
Toji shook his head, reracking the weight. “Nah. I say ruin it.”
Sukuna damn near threw his water bottle at the smug man’s face, sucking his teeth at his insolence. “Have you listened to a damn thing I’ve said?”
“I am listening. And I’m telling you to ruin it. You’re fucking it up more by not doing anything.” Toji rose as he pushed Sukuna’s shoulder down, signaling him to do another set as he added more weight to both sides of the barbell. “I’m no genius, but any girl who is willingly spending that much time with you has to like you, at least a little.”
“We’re project partners; this is the definition of being forced to spend time together.”
“Listen, no one made you go over to her place after Halloween, just like no one made you spend hours at her apartment yesterday.” He paused as Sukuna sent him a questioning glare beneath the bar. “Don’t look at me like that. You weren’t in the house. I took a lucky guess. Besides, seems like she’s the only thing that gets your ass out of bed anymore.”
This time, the towel around Sukuna’s neck flew toward Toji’s face before he could register what he was doing. Toji batted it away with his hand, scowling. “Bitch all you want about it, you know it’s true.”
“Look, either suck it up, or don’t. Either face rejection or be a coward. But, please, do something, and free yourself from this torment, for my sake. I can’t keep watching you do this.”
Toji hadn’t put it gently, but he was right; whatever this was wasn’t sustainable. Sukuna knew sooner or later, he’d have to do something about this. He could only keep his head buried in the sand for so long. These feelings, however real or temporary they may be, were calling to be acknowledged, but if he was being honest, acknowledgement was the last thing on his mind.
He sighed, looking up at Toji. “Wanna get drunk tonight?”
Toji sighed, shaking his head. “Sure. But you’re buying.”
|||
“Soup?” Yuki’s eyes popped out of her head when you recounted your previous week. After resting under Sukuna’s orders, you returned to your weekly Sunday session post the following weekend, feeling mostly back to normal. You weren’t sure if the rumbling in your stomach came from the nausea you had experienced previously or because of your crush that had escalated from ignored, to denied, to extreme, but either way, you started to worry that your distress had manifested to the sickest state you’d been in years. For extra precaution, you tried to keep a respectable distance while you helped walk students through problems, but Yuki didn’t seem to care for your attempts to maintain a healthy gap as she pulled you into a secluded corner of the room, prying everything out of you, from your date with Gojo to Sukuna’s surprise home visit last Saturday.
“He made you soup?” Yuki clarified, speaking slowly, enunciating the question, shock and disbelief lacing her tone. “I’m gonna fuckin’ throw up. That’s adorable. Are you kidding me?”
“Yuki, please, don’t mention throwing up in my vicinity. I’m still slightly nauseous.”
You woke up that evening to Sukuna gone, but a clean apartment in your wake, the leftover soup packaged in Tupperware in your fridge, and ice pops for your throat in the freezer. Your fever had finally broken, but your skin was sticky from the sweat you produced from the first soundless sleep you’ve had in days.
You went to your phone to text a thanks to Sukuna, but your thumb slipped, dialing his number instead. Your eyes widened as his contact took up your entire screen, fumbling to press the end call button. “Shit, shit, shit, fuck – ”
“Hello?”
His voice was muffled, raspy, as if you had interrupted a good sleep. The deep vibrato sent a shiver down your spine. “Hi.” You gripped the phone against your ear, talking in a hushed tone. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call.”
“‘ts fine. D’you need somethin’?” His voice was thick, yet warm, as if he were amused by your antics.
“I just wanted to say thanks. Y’know, for the soup and all.”
He hummed. “You feelin’ better?”
You nodded. “Yeah. My fever finally broke. So, feeling way better than before.”
“That’s good.”
The line went quiet before you inhaled. “Sorry, did I wake you? Was this a bad time?”
“Nah, you’re fine.”
“Oh. Ok.”
The conversation lulled, but neither of you moved to hang up. You gnawed on your bottom lip, frantically looking for a conversation topic. You blurted something intelligible as he asked a question at the same time.
“So how are you - ”
“Are you gonna - ”
You both paused, letting out small laughs. “Sorry,” you said. “You go first.”
“No, you go.”
And you did. You both talked, and talked, conversation topics ranging, voices hushed, as if you were scared of getting found out, as if a decibel more would startle you both out of a reverie.
You had made your way to your kitchen while still talking with Sukuna, the soft pads of your sock-clad feet fidgeting as you rested your hip against your oven, waiting for your kettle to whistle as you prepared a cup of tea. Your phone rested between your shoulder and ear as you continued talking. “So, question, I’ve been so curious about this.”
Sukuna hummed in response, prompting you to continue.
“Has Toji actually done anything for the project? He’s never mentioned working on it once.”
Sukuna breathed out a laugh. “Trust me, he hasn’t done shit. I’d be surprised if he knew his partner’s name.”
You giggled, pouring yourself a cup and grabbing your bottle of honey. “I figured. Is he not concerned?”
“Well, not everyone gets stuck with a pain-in-the-ass control freak who threatens failing herself just to get her partner to do work, so he’s probably doing just fine.”
“Yeah, I suppose not everyone can be so lucky.” You feign a sigh, stirring the sweetener into your steeping tea. “It’s a shame there aren't more of me to go around.”
“The campus would implode if there were more of you wandering around. We’d have to construct a new classroom to fit another one of your big heads.”
You scoffed, sticking your tongue out. “You always this mean, or do I just get special treatment?”
“Would you be jealous if I said I treat everyone like this?”
“Yes. Exceedingly so.”
You felt him grin through the phone. “Then yeah, it’s just you.”
You migrated back to your bed, lying atop your comforter, your eyelids growing heavier by the passing minutes as your cup sat on your bedside table, now drained of its contents.
“You tired yet?” Sukuna asked, his voice lulling and slow.
You shook your head as you yawned. “Nuh uh. You sound sleepy, though.”
“Well, it’s almost two in the morning, and I spent most of my day taking care of a big baby, so, yeah, I’m a little tired.”
“I did not ask you to do that,” you protested.
“I know. I wanted to.”
You froze, then inhaled. “Sorry for keeping you on the phone for so long.”
“I didn’t mind.”
“Ok. Well, I’ll let you go then. Talk soon?”
“Counting down the seconds, princess. Night.”
“Night,” you whispered, your voice hoarse.
Your memories of the late-night phone conversation almost made you wince as you responded to Yuki. “Yeah, he made me soup.”
“Well, don’t be shy now! Then what happened?” Yuki grabbed your arm, shaking it furiously, already on the edge of her seat.
You blew out a breath.
What happened next?
Things got…weird.
Weirder than normal, that’s for sure.
After spending the rest of last weekend resting, recovering, and trying to catch up on work, you showed up to class on Tuesday and walked up the steps of your lecture hall to seat yourself in the back row with Sukuna and Toji. You bounded up, greeting them both. “Morning, guys.”
“Hey,” Toji responded. Sukuna’s head barely nodded in your direction.
You stopped short, your eyes flicking between Sukuna’s tufts of pink hair and Toji, who sat next to him. He made eye contact with you and rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “He’s being an idiot. You’re fine. Sit.”
Hesitantly, you took the last few steps up and gingerly sat next to Sukuna, both your bodies so tense and on edge it felt as though they were grating against each other. You unpacked your bag and paused before asking, your words stilted, careful. “How was the rest of your weekend?”
“Fine.”
You took a deep, sharp breath. At this point, you couldn’t keep up with the mood swings he went through. You felt like you trekked through different climates with him every day, from scorching desert to freezing tundra; it was a toss-up on how he felt like treating you that day. It was exhausting, and the events of the past week had already worn you down. “Alright then,” you said, your voice crisp.
You turned your attention to the front, straining to hear the professor as you took notes, and tried not to look at Sukuna for the rest of the period, all cylinders firing in your mind. You felt Sukuna shifting constantly beside you, all of a sudden finding it impossible to get comfortable. After his elbow nudged you for the third time, you hissed. “Am I making you uncomfortable or something? What’s your deal?”
“It’s not you,” he grunted out, unwilling to offer you anything else.
You couldn’t possibly fathom what happened between Saturday’s phone call and today that got Sukuna acting like a kicked dog, but whatever it was, you didn’t have the time or energy to help him work through his convoluted feelings. “Well, figure it out, because you’re pissing me off,” you grumbled back, nudging his elbow with your own.
Thursday was no better. You took one look at his sullen frame and scoffed, traipsing your way back to your usual seat in the front, absolving yourself from dealing with his attitude. You felt his gaze burning holes in the back of your head, but still, no text of protest or inquiry of why you moved seats, which admittedly hurt more than you would like it to.
“I don’t know. He’s been giving me the cold shoulder recently, and I cannot be bothered to run around campus begging him to tell me what’s wrong. I have more pride than that.” You answered truthfully, shrugging your shoulders at the reality of the predicament. “I like him. A lot, actually. More than I probably should, knowing everything about him, and I probably have for a while now. But I’m don’t wanna like people who won’t choose me. This runaround we’re doing is so beyond dumb. I’m not built for this.”
Yuki nudged your shoulder with hers, taking in the anxious debilitation around your eyes. “Well, at least you’ve come to your senses. If you took any longer, Sho and I were gonna start betting.” Her eyes suddenly lit up. “Wait. Idea! You should come to my sorority’s date party this weekend. We’d have so much fun together, getting free drinks, making fun of people; you’d love it.”
“The one Gojo was telling me about?” You wrinkled your brows. “Hard pass. You know I won’t get along with anyone there.”
“It’s not about getting along with anyone; it’s about who you go with.” Yuki raised her eyebrows expectantly, hoping you were understanding what she was insinuating.
You weren’t. “And who am I supposed to be going with, pray tell? You and Choso, and be a third wheel all night? Spare me.”
“No, dummy, go with Sukuna! Get him to ask you!”
You gagged. “I’m not that desperate. Besides, I’m not in your sorority. I’m not even Greek life. Those girls would eat me alive.”
“Ugh, you talk about them like they’re all evil, but I’m there! They’re very nice when you give them a chance.”
“I am sure they are, but considering I would have no business being at their date party, I’m sure they’d be more than standoffish.”
“Did you miss what I suggested? Not if you went with Sukuna.”
“Oh, I didn’t miss it, just chose to ignore it.” You said flippantly, gently shouldering past Yuki to head over to a student with a hand in the air and confusion written all over their face. “I’m not about to beg a man to ask me to the dance. Who am I, Cinderella?”
Yuki rolled her eyes, following you as you tried to create space. “Ok, first of all, Cinderella did not beg. That’s like the whole point of the story. And secondly, you wouldn’t have to beg, just politely suggest semi-insistently. He’d probably love to take you.”
“If he'd love to take me, then he should ask.” You said pointedly, wanting to end the conversation.
“Ok, well, the next time you see him, you should bring it up casually.”
“Yeah, maybe if he’s not acting like an ass.”
As the door to the building opened with a slight tinkle of a bell, you heard Yuji’s voice ring out across the hushed tones of the crowd.
“Sukuna? What’re you doing here?”
Sometimes, you wonder if words are prophetic. If the intention behind what you say and when you say it puts out action into the universe, spurs momentum beyond one’s control, sends paths colliding in places one could never assume, like your volunteer study sessions halfway across town from your university campus. Or maybe you were still feeling the effects of your sickness, your fever’s delayed effects causing hallucinations and vivid daydreams of your hulking project partner, pink hair tousled from the wind, tattoos and piercings factoring him as immediately out of place, hands shoved into pockets, and a scowl painted on his face as he’d rather be anywhere else than where he was currently.
You almost laughed, your feelings echoing the sentiment on his face.
“Jin asked me to pick you up. He got caught up with some stuff.”
You could feel Yuki’s maniacal grin boring into the back of your skull, but you refused to look back at her or Sukuna, your eyes dead focused on the calculus formulas swimming on the worksheet before you. You called out, your voice low but strained. “Sorry, what was your question again?”
“You’re early! We don’t finish the session until one, and I have, like, twelve problems left.” Yuji complained.
You hated how you were so used to Sukuna’s presence, like a radio frequency; your ears antennas, specially attuned to the sound of his voice. His crass voice prickled at the top of your spine. “Don’t care. I’ve got somewhere to be, and dropping you off is taking me out of my way. C’mon.”
“Alright, jeez, let me say bye to my tutors at least.”
Your spine stiffened, and you heard Yuji haphazardly shove his papers and books into his backpack, ambling over to you. He couldn’t get a word out before you heard your own name in Sukuna’s disbelieving tone.
You finally looked up, straightening your back to see Sukuna standing off, still near the door, his whole body tense when making eye contact with you. He opened his mouth, but the words stumbled out like he didn’t know what he was saying as he spoke. “What are you – I mean, do you, uh, you volunteer here?”
Your mouth felt dry as you answered. “Every Sunday.”
Yuki giggled from behind you as Yuji’s head whipped between you and Sukuna’s wooden frames. “Wait, how do you two know each other?”
Your eyes searched each other’s, trying to parse through what was hidden beneath the lies you continued to spin.
“We’re friends.” You both responded, both voices coated in the sweet seduction, in syrupy sweetness of the delusions you feed into, spurred on by the narratives you chose to follow, no longer ignorant, now willingly obtuse. You both were suckers, caressing each other with padded lies and longing glances that dissolved until reaching the chewy center, both wanting to be stretched and swallowed.
“They’re in the same class and are working on a project together,” Yuki clarified to the room of kids, now distracted by the handsome collegiate who, under the fluorescent lighting, did bear a striking resemblance to Yuji.
Yuji’s eyes widened. “He’s your project partner?”
Your eyes flicked from your student to Sukuna, horrified. “Wait, it’s not – ”
“The incompetent one?” Nobara added on, no longer pretending to do a semblance of work.
Megumi hummed beside her. “Yes, I remember her calling him ‘worse than Yuji’.”
You turned around to face your students sitting near Yuji, hissing, “Guys, shut up!” You waved your hands back and forth in an attempt to defend yourself, looking back at your smirking partner. “That was weeks ago, you’re so much better now, I swear.”
“You complained about me?” Sukuna's voice was snide, but the upturned corner of his mouth proved he found the whole situation amusing. “Well, now at least all the horrible things Yuji has said about his tutors make sense.”
You recoiled in offense while Yuji protested. “That is not true! I have never said anything bad about her in my life!”
Yuki took this moment to sweep into the conversation. “Actually, this is perfect timing, Sukuna.” You craned your neck around, shaking your head inconspicuously to stop Yuki, but she plowed ahead, either unaware or ignoring your vain attempts to stop her. “We were just talking about the date party this weekend.”
You hated yourself for it, but you couldn’t stop your body from jerking back around, hungry for the look on his face. Your stomach turned when you saw his face fall, deep shadows cast across his sharp features. His voice was gruff, devoid of the playful tone he had once carried. “What about it?”
“She was just telling me how fun it sounded.” Yuki insinuated in a sing-song voice. “And a little birdie told me you still need a date.”
“Yuki, please, enough,” You muttered, far past embarrassed. Your eyes stayed on Sukuna, who now couldn’t seem to meet your gaze, his eyes hard, staring at the tiled floors beneath his boots.
“Yuki,” Sukuna started, but Yuki continued, not one to be admonished.
“Come on, we all know you want to take her anyway, so just – ”
“I can’t.” His voice was so sharp it felt like biting wind, the kind that pricks tears and causes teeth to chatter, cold and unforgiving.
“Why not?” Yuki bit back.
You whispered, desperate not to hear the answer you knew would send you into a spiral. “Yuki, please.”
Sukuna’s lips were pressed thin as he burrowed his fists deeper into his jacket pockets. He turned away, adamant on not meeting your eyes, not bearing to see the hurt look on your face.
“I’m already going with somebody else.”
There it was. You winced, closing your eyes as if that would prevent the words from seeping in. The awkward silence that filled the room was suffocating as your students shifted their attention away from the train wreck of an interaction, hastily fumbling to pretend they weren’t listening.
Disgust and anger filled Yuki’s expression. “Since when?” She spat out.
His voice was hard like nails on bricks. “Does it matter? I can’t take her.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop talking about me like I’m not here.” Your voice was cold and detached, outside of yourself. “Besides, I have plans then anyway.”
A lie, of course. Bold-faced and brazen. But this bitter green monster of jealousy had overtaken the typically rational control of your mind, now spitting out whatever you knew could strike back and defend yourself most effectively. Another lie tumbled from your lips faster than you could think of the ramifications.
“Gojo asked me, so I’m probably gonna go with him.”
Yuki’s eyebrows raised as Sukuna’s eyes frosted over. Their voices sounded at the same time, one of incredulity, another of cold rage.
“What?” “What?”
Yuji and Nobara gaped at you, mouths falling open in shock. “Satoru already asked you?” Yuji pursed his lips while Nobara nodded in approval at the date you’d managed to snag for yourself.
She leaned over, whispering to Megumi. “See, aren’t you glad we came today? We would’ve missed this.”
You shrugged in hopes you came off as nonchalant as you were trying to be. “Yeah. So. I guess we’ll see you both there.”
A line of electricity tied your and Sukuna’s gazes together as you looked up at him, a thumping, neon green to his blood red. The tendons in his neck were taut, his jaw tight, a vein pulsing on his temple.
Yuki could not contain her laughter as she bellowed out, running her hands down her face in happy disbelief at what you just said. “Oh, my God, I am so unbelievably excited for this weekend, you have no idea.”
“Yeah, me too.” Your voice was clipped, not an ounce of earnestness behind it. “Have fun with your date.”
Sukuna couldn’t even muster up the energy to repeat back your congenial lie. “Yuji. Let’s go.” His tone left no room for arguing; his back was already turned from the crowd of high schoolers watching him retreat.
Yuji pulled his strap over his shoulder, grumbling as he said bye to his friends and you. You muttered a goodbye, turning back to your student’s work as you heard the door open and close, the jingling bell out of place in the tense environment.
“You fucking liar.” Yuki sneered, poking your shoulder with her pointer finger. “Satoru did not ask you to that party.”
Nobara gasped. “You’re joking!”
Yuki turned to face her, almost as if she had forgotten the rest of the students were there. “Kukisagi, focus on your work.”
Nobara grumbled as she rested her head in her palm. “But this is so much more interesting.”
You were too distracted fumbling through your purse to chastise either Nobara or Yuki, searching for your phone to choke down your pride and text Satoru probably one of the most embarrassing requests of your life.
| Hey. I need a favor.
| A big, astronomical one.
Gojo’s response was almost immediate.
| those are my favorite kind
| what’s up?
| I need you to take me to the date party on Friday.
| B AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
| Gojo, I’m serious.
| i know you are, that’s why i’m laughing
| Satoru please
You heard Yuki snort from behind you. “So much for not begging a man to ask.”
| I’m desparate and stupid and lied and I need to you be amazing and do me this huge favor
| you are sick in the head
| do you have plans on wednesday
| why?
| because you’ll need a dress and i’ll need concealer for this black eye your friend is about to give me
|||
You were too many drinks in as you stumbled into the Uber from Yuki’s place, dress too short, heels too high, head too fuzzy, judgment too impaired. You shoved yourself between your date, Satoru, and Yuki in the backseat, Choso in front. Gojo’s long limbs tangled with yours as he shimmied into the seat behind the passenger’s side, your arms interlinked.
“You okay, angel?” He purred, his voice pitched low. You nodded, too inebriated to respond properly.
You hadn’t meant to get this drunk. Really, a slight buzz is what you were going for. But the nerves of being around girls who would immediately recognize you as an outsider, on the arms of one of the most eligible men on campus, and seeing your project partner wrapped up with some other girl, combined with Gojo and Yuki’s incessant calls for shot after shot, left your head feeling light and your words slightly slurred.
Yuki adjusted the shooters she had hidden in her purse and boots and turned to you, eyes glassy. “I’m sooo happy you decided to come!” She pressed her cheek against yours. “We’re gonna have the best time, I promise.”
You smiled weakly. You felt Gojo's hand grip yours and squeeze it gently. You turned to him, his eyes even brighter from the drunk glow. “I’ll be with you all night. It’ll be fine.”
“Thanks again for taking me, even though I forced you to.”
“Nah, it’s chill. Honestly, it’s nice not to have any pressure to do something after the party.”
“Thanks for the dress, too.” You mumbled, fingers lifting the hem that brushed your thighs. It was nice, much too nice for the night you weren’t fully prepared to have.
Gojo shook his head, brushing off your thanks. “Red looks good on you.”
“Well, I hope it does, since you forced me to get it.” You adjusted the strap that started to slip off your shoulder during the shuffle to get in the backseat.
As the car lurched forward, you felt your head loll to the side, resting on Gojo’s shoulder. “Am I being dumb?”
“Oh, absolutely. But I am so entertained, so please, continue.”
You stuck out your tongue at his joke. “Oh, whatever.”
“You don’t have to talk to him tonight.”
“I won’t.”
It was a promise you knew you weren’t going to keep. You knew as soon as you stepped through the double doors of the manor where the party was held. You knew as soon as you heard your heels click across the pristine hardwood floor. You knew when you felt Gojo’s large hand flex against your hip as you entered the foray, the girl's eyes sizing you up as you stepped forward by his side.
And you knew as soon as you laid eyes on him.
Sleek, pressed black button-up shirt rolled up his taut forearms, inky bands of black circling the tendons and disappearing underneath the fabric, stretched, but not bursting, over his frame. Nice black slacks, polished shoes, the unmistakable glint of his silver jewelry on his face.
He looked devastatingly handsome.
And some other girl had her arm linked with his.
You felt your heart flutter, and you cursed it for doing so. Gojo looked down at you, following your gaze and tsked. “Stop staring.”
“I’m not staring.”
“I don’t think you’ve blinked since we came in. I’m scared you’ll start drooling.”
You glared at your date. “I’m not drooling. Shut up. Let’s get a drink.”
You refused to make eye contact as you maneuvered through the crowd, heading to the makeshift bar set up in the foyer, ready to pour yourself a drink strong enough to make a sailor sing. But while your eyes adamantly fought to stay off Sukuna’s frame, he let his drunkenly roll over yours. It felt like heat simmered off your skin, and he could feel it radiating from across the room. The straps of the dress were thin, sparkly lines seemingly painted over your collarbones and dipping down the curve of your back. The crimson red fabric kissing the frame of your body, brushing the tops of your thighs, accentuating the curves and contours of your body – he felt starved.
He swallowed.
Uraume looked up at him and matched his gaze. Her eyebrow twitched up in recognition of your glasses from the photo on his phone from Halloween. “Let’s go say hi.”
Sukuna’s head tilted down slowly, the alcohol and absurdity of the statement slowing his reaction. “What?”
“To Gojo and his date. Let’s say hi and get a drink.”
“I don’t need a drink.”
“Well, I do.”
He felt his own grip on his cup tighten as he watched Gojo whisper something in your ear. You keeled over in laughter, and he couldn’t tell if the sound was ringing through the hall or just in his ears.
“Sure. Let’s say hey.”
You felt his approach before you saw him, your body reacting against your will, tensing as his pink hair entered your periphery. You felt a woman’s polished nails brush your arm while the hair on your neck stood up as his figure brushed past yours, his scent following him like a curse. You looked over to the girl who introduced herself as Uraume. You said your name back, words feeling empty as she attempted to make conversation while you were distracted, watching Sukuna roughly pull Gojo away, yearning to hear their exchanged words.
Sukuna fought the urge to address you, beelining for Gojo, a half-assed attempt to maintain a shred of his dignity. He grabbed Gojo’s forearm, pulling him away from both their dates, his voice strained as he tried to keep himself together. “What are you playing at?”
Satoru took a big swig of his drink, concealing his grin behind the lip of the cup. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”
Sukuna exhaled, nostrils flaring. “Why’d you ask her?”
Satoru’s eyebrow flew up. “Uh, because you didn’t? Haven’t we sung this song before?”
Sukuna’s blinks felt long and slow as he pulled his thoughts together, words escaping him as he tried to choke down his anger. “You told me I couldn’t. I asked you months ago, and you told me no.”
Satoru’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion before he barked out a laugh. “You were talking about her? Even back then?” He shook his head in disbelief, Sukuna’s confession alluding to how long he’s truly been acting so foolishly. “Since when do you listen to me, anyway?”
Gojo scoffed before continuing. “I don’t know how many times or in how many different ways we can tell you to stop being dumb, but it’s getting exhausting.” Gojo, despite his level of drunkenness, focused his gaze on Sukuna’s, eyes serious.
Sukuna couldn’t help the way his eyes dragged over to you again, your figure leaning in to hear Uraume’s words. Gojo’s sharp tongue forced him to look away.
“You fucked up when you didn’t say anything in the library, and you fucked it up more last weekend. Just do everyone a favor and try not to fuck anything else up tonight.” Gojo walked away from Sukuna, his hand back on your waist, pulling you away from Uraume toward a group congregating near the side of the room, thick cushioned chairs arranged to maximize socialbility.
Sukuna followed, taking his place by Uraume, his voice colder as he swallowed the rest of his drink, at the ready to pour another. “You wanna join them?”
Uraume snorted. “And do what, play Truth or Dare?”
“Beats standing here.”
He felt Uraume’s eyes gloss over his face inquisitively. “Alright. I’ll bite. We can go over there, but we’re gonna get sucked into whatever stupid game our president suggested they’re playing, and I’m not playing by myself.”
A heavy-handed pour later, Sukuna found himself sitting beside his date, you and Gojo across in the circular formation, drinks flowing and laughs chiming through the social circle as Yuki cleared her throat, catching everyone’s attention with a flash of her blonde hair. “Ok, Miss Prez wants us to play a game.”
He felt Uraume roll her eyes and look up to him expectantly, as if to say, “Told you so.” His eyes were still on you as you adjusted the hem of your dress, fighting the urge to show how nervous you were.
You mumbled, your voice only loud enough for Gojo to hear. “A game? Are we in middle school?”
“Yes, this is a date party.” Gojo teased, nudging you with his shoulder. “Just go with it. It’ll be chill.”
You took another sip of your drink as you listened to the guest go around, a strange, convoluted mix of Truth or Dare, combined with Put a Finger Down and Never Have I Ever, the game at its core reaching into the soul of the player, getting them to confess their most embarrassing moments while keeping the drinks going, sentences getting more slurred by the second. You giggled as Satoru told an elaborate, exaggerated story about getting caught by the father of the girl he was seeing in high school and running out of the house, his pants falling between his legs as he ran down the street.
A girl’s voice chimed out over the laughs from Gojo’s story, calling for a shot for every single body someone had. You grimaced, looking at Satoru. “That would genuinely kill you.”
Gojo chuckled, not denying your statement. “How about, put a finger down for every person you’ve fucked in this room?”
You snorted. “Is that any better? I’m sitting amongst half of your scorned lovers.”
Gojo grinned. “Just trying to catch you up to the rest of us, angel.” He jokingly grabbed your hand, pushing one of your fingers down. “C’mon, don’t be shy. We’ve all done it.”
Despite his fibbing nature, you blushed as the girls cooed around you. “Satoru, stop it.” You shoved him off of you, a smile still on your face. “You wish. I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”
“Yeah? Tell that to him.” Satoru cocked his head forward, and you turned, seeing that Sukuna had excused himself from the circle, already halfway toward the door to step out to the patio area. Gojo sighed. “Such a drama queen.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t play dumb.”
“I’m not being any dumber than the two of you.” Gojo rolled his eyes, taking the drink out of your hand. “Go. Lick his wounds, or whatever else you all do.”
“Satoru!”
“Just go.” He pushed you off him toward the door that Sukuna had just walked out of. “I already know you want to, so go.”
You stumbled forward, wrapping your arms around your front as you glanced over your shoulder back at Gojo, who gestured you forward with his hands, turning back to the group with an ever charming smile on his face, distracting the crowd from your absence, regardless of whether they noticed.
You pushed the door forward and stepped out into the chilly air, Sukuna’s back toward you as he stood facing the inky, starry night. The sound of the door clicking shut and the click of your heels alerted him to your presence, his head twitching slightly to the left. You stopped as you stood next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and staring straight ahead.
Neither of you said anything as you shifted your weight onto the balls of each of your feet. You saw him take a sip from your peripheral vision and cleared your throat, tired of the quiet between you two.
“It’s not true, by the way.”
Silence.
“I haven’t hooked up with Satoru, I mean. He was just, I dunno, teasing, I guess.”
“Right. And why would I care?”
You couldn’t control the scowl that painted your face as you turned to face him. “Stop being a dick. You clearly care.”
“I’m not bein’ a dick. Just don’t know why you’re telling me worthless information.”
“You stormed out in the middle of the game like a child, and you expect me to believe you don’t care?” You spat. “You can’t even look at me.”
It was then that Sukuna’s head whipped down toward you, eyes ignited, silver jewelry glinting. “Trust me, princess, I’ve been looking at you all night.”
The intensity of his gaze made you pause; his eyes locked with yours, deep, stormy red. You breathed in, not to be deterred from your tirade. “You have a date. One you asked out tonight, mind you. And you’re looking at me?”
“We both know she’s not the one I wanted to go with.”
You weren't prepared for Sukuna's attacks back. Ruthless, forward, and honest. Your defenses were down, and you felt like you were scrambling to get your bearings, losing in a game where you didn't even know the rules. You swallowed. “You’re being mean. Stop it.”
“I’m telling the truth.”
“No, you’re being mean. You’re drunk. You don’t mean that.”
“You know I do.”
You paused, your breath shuddering as you tried to wrap your head around what he just admitted. But once Sukuna started, he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t control anything: his thoughts, his actions, his words around you. You nullified and lit up his senses simultaneously, like some sort of sick dog collar; he was on your leash, and when you pulled, he followed.
“Why him?”
“Stop. Sukuna, please.”
“Why him?” He repeated, stepping closer to you. His cologne, his scent washed over you, your head dizzy at his proximity and the liquor running through your veins.
“If it bothered you so much, you should’ve asked me.” You couldn’t brace yourself for any more of this conversation turned confessional. His eyes were too earnest, his body too close for you to think straight. You staggered back, turning your body to walk back toward the door when his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and stopping you in your tracks.
“Would you have said yes?”
Your voice cracked. “What?”
“I need to know. If I had asked, would you have said yes?”
You felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes. You didn’t even know why you were crying - maybe it was the muddled emotions finally making themselves known, or the combination of liquor and unresolved weeks of denied tension festering in the pit of your stomach, but you couldn’t keep it in anymore, no matter how hard you tried.
“Of course I would’ve said yes, you idiot!” You bashed your fists against his chest, not knowing if you were trying to push him away or pull him in.
It didn’t matter. You didn’t have time to process, or think about what you had said, or what you had wanted, because the next thing you knew, your back was pressed against a pillar, Sukuna’s hands were circling your wrists, and his lips were pressed against yours.
It wasn’t gentle or slow, but desperate, pleading, as though he tried to push everything he couldn’t say into you through this kiss. You felt your brain short-circuit before jolting into action, your arms going to wrap around his neck, tugging him in, down into you, deepening what you felt you both had been waiting for. His hands dropped immediately, grabbing you by the waist and drawing you flush against his chest. It was like a game of tug of war, his desperate pulls for your bodies to be closer and his hungry kisses pushing you back into the foundation behind you, clawing for more in attempts to steal the very breath from your lungs.
You gasped into his mouth as his fingers squeezed the skin on your hips, lifting you against the smooth, cool pillar as he wedged his knee between your thighs, devouring your hitched breath like they were nectar. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, as if you could try to pull him any closer, your fingers threaded through the baby hairs on the nape of his neck. You felt his groan rumble in his chest as he inadvertently slid your core against his thigh, his muscles thick and taut beneath the dress pants as his cloying grabs pushed the fabric of your dress higher and higher up your waist.
“Kuna,” you pleaded, not knowing what you were asking for; stop, keep going, you couldn’t tell. You dragged your hands down his chest, fingers gripping the front in an attempt to ground yourself. Your eyes fluttered shut as he took the opportunity to kiss his way down your neck, nibbling at the sensitive part at the junction of your ear and jaw. “Kuna, please.”
His breath was hot as he pressed his lips against your throat, a small whimper escaping your mouth. “You drive me crazy, y’know that?”
You felt his sharp canines drag against your jugular, and you moaned. “Kuna, I - ”
His lips muttered against your skin. “Tell me what you want, because I want it too. I need to hear you say it.”
You panted, your entire body on fire, senses blazing as you felt his hand trail down under your thigh, pulling your leg up and pushing you impossibly closer. You felt your grip in his hair tighten as you felt him pressing against you, and your mind went blank, too overcome by what was happening.
“Kuna, I – ”
Your eyes shot open as you heard the back door creak on its hinges, and an inquiring voice calling for the man whose name just fell breathlessly from your lips. You stiffened and pushed him away, swiftly pulling your dress back down and pulling up the strap that had slid off your shoulder, hoping your hair wasn’t too mussed to be obvious what had just transpired.
Uraume rounded the corner behind the pillar, wide eyes immediately locking in on both your winded states, chests heaving, clothes wrinkled, eyes clouded, both of you clearly still affected by what had happened. Her head cocked to the side as she eyed Sukuna up and down, but his eyes never left yours, guiltily, as if watching for your reaction. You stood frozen, not knowing whether to apologize or wait to be reprimanded, your pupils blown as you watched Sukuna’s date size you both up.
After moments of agonizing silence, she let out a small huff, shaking her head. “Figures. If you weren’t interested, you should’ve just said that when I asked.” She fiddled with her purse, reaching for something small and metallic, tossing it at Sukuna’s chest. It reflected the moonlight as it sailed toward him, and he caught it in his palm, grimacing as he opened his hand, revealing a watch. You glanced down at it and back up at Uraume.
“You left that at mine last Sunday. Been meaning to return it.” Her tone wasn’t cold or menacing or vindictive, just tactical and honest as she crossed her arms, eyes hard as they flicked back and forth between you two. “Guess we both look dumb now, don’t we?”
You couldn’t tell if her last comment was directed at you or him as she walked off, her heels sharp against the paved ground. You felt Sukuna’s eyes on you, but you couldn’t see anything as your vision began to blur, the timelines merging in your head as you fought the sob that threatened to wrack your body.
Last Sunday, he was with her. Last Sunday, the day after you were sick, when he had come over, caring, or pretending to, as sickness wracked your body. Last Saturday, when you fell asleep, his warm, velvet eyes were the last thing you saw before fatigue took over. Last Saturday, when you all talked on the phone for hours about nothing, his voice was comforting you like the blankets you shrouded yourself in all weekend. Last weekend, when you could finally admit to yourself that what was between you, this pseudo-friendship, meant much more than you had ever intended it to, while clearly it meant nothing to him at all.
Sukuna whispered your name, his voice hoarse. “Wait.”
You pushed yourself off the pillar, turning your face away so he couldn’t see how easily he broke you apart.
You knew. Deep down, you knew. You couldn’t believe you had fallen for something so truly simple, so stupid, so archaic and ancient a story it had been told time and time again. You couldn’t stand to think of the pitying looks and knowing glances those girls would give you as you walked inside, your eyes red, mascara running, and chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Played again by the infamous player. A silly, stupid girl, another victim of charm and deceit. You wished you could laugh instead of crying.
“Fuck you.” You bit out, eyes squinted as you willed the tears away. You whipped around, stalking toward the door Uraume had just exited from.
“Wait, stop.” Sukuna’s voice ground out as he reached for you again, but this time, you had the sense to pull away.
“Don’t touch me!” You hissed, ripping your arm out of his grip.
“Just – listen to me, I can explain.”
“I don’t want you to explain anything!” You shouted, practically hysterical, before you remembered yourself. You shuddered as you took a breath, attempting to ground yourself amidst the fury you felt. “You’re a liar.”
“I’m not a liar.”
“Don’t fucking interrupt me.” You pointed a manicured finger at his chest, and his lips pressed into a thin line as you continued. “You pretended to care about me when you don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself.” You angrily swiped at the wetness on your cheeks, embarrassed that he’s seeing you in this state. “I cannot believe I let myself think for one second you could actually – ” you shook your head, laughing at the idea you couldn’t even begin to let out. You stoned your face, wrapping yourself in steel armor, putting the guards back up that you should have never let down.
He took another step forward as you stepped back again. You tried to ignore the wounded look that crossed over his face.
“You’re exactly what everyone says you are.” You whispered out, your words like needles driving into his skin.
He shook his head. “Don’t say that.”
“Get away from me.”
“You don’t mean that. It’s not true. Please. Listen to me.”
“Sukuna, don’t.” You brought your hand up, palms facing him as you continued to back away. “Just leave me alone.”
You turned away from him, walking through the rest of the party looking for a familiar face to let them know you were leaving. Gaggles of girls and their dates passed in front of you like a maze, and you stumbled through blindly, searching for any sense of cognizance. You wiped away another stray tear as you walked into a body, mumbling out an apology over your shoulder.
You felt a pair of hands wrap around your arms, and you looked up, Satoru’s blue eyes concerned as he studied your face. You hoped you didn’t look as pathetic as you felt as his thumb brushed your cheek, wiping away another tear.
Gojo sucked his teeth. “I’m sorry, angel.”
“Did you know?”
His eyes didn’t turn from yours. “He should have stayed away from you. You’re too good for him.”
You winced, leaning forward, pressing your forehead against Gojo’s chest. “I’m such an idiot.”
Gojo pulled you closer, his hand gingerly holding the back of your head. “You’re not an idiot. He’s the idiot, I promise.” You felt Gojo pull away as you sniffled. “You wanna get outta here?”
“I don’t wanna cause a scene,” you mumbled.
“Too late for that.” Gojo joked, rubbing the sides of your arms, chilled from the night air. “Wanna get some ice cream? It’s getting lame here anyway.”
You nodded, too tired to do anything else, as Satoru quickly and diplomatically said goodbyes, making their way outside, waiting for the hailed car to arrive. Gojo sat down on the porch steps outside the manor, and gently laid his jacket on the ground, allowing you to sit down and rest your body weight against him as your head hung on his shoulder.
“What flavor are you gonna get?” Gojo asked, a feeble attempt to get your mind off what had just happened. He laced his fingers with yours as he pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I definitely want something sweet, like strawberry.”
You sniffed, trying to stabilize your wavering voice. “Nothing too sweet. Maybe a coffee flavour, or something.”
Gojo grimaced. “Gross. Don’t get that. Then I can’t have any.”
You turned to him, eyelids heavy. “Why not?”
He wrinkled his nose. “I hate coffee. Can’t stand the taste.”
You blinked. “What?”
Gojo rolled his eyes. “I know, everyone thinks I’m crazy. But it’s too bitter, no matter how much sugar they put into it. Can’t stand the stuff.”
“You…don’t drink lattes? At all?”
“I’ll chug a Red Bull before I ever fix my mouth to order a latte.” Gojo stuck his tongue out, faux gagging. “So please, get another flavor so I can steal some.”
You tuned out Gojo’s prattling on about flavors, your eyes vacant as the memory of hazelnut and vanilla filled your senses.
You felt another tear, traitorously, roll down your cheek.
a/n: please put down the pitchforks!! i promise this is the worst it gets!! there is romance to come!! trust me the next couple chapters feature pining and groveling sukuna and it will be delicious. also shoutout to y'all for commenting on this bc istg it truly motivates me to finish this story lol, which i will do!! much love <333
description -> there wasn't much you and frat boy!sukuna ryomen had in common...except your mutual disdain for partner projects. (un)luckily for the two of you, fate has a way of bringing together the seemingly incompatible. but as the project continues and studying sessions involve less and less studying, you both discover you're learning more about yourselves than the subject matter at hand...
word count -> 14.5k
cw -> yearning || mutual pining || like, medium burn? || eventual smut || drinking || smoking || cursing || mean sukuna (but only if you squint) || side frat!gojo x nerd!reader || jealousy || angst (it's getting serious) || resolved tension and feelings
part eight || part nine || part ten
Sukuna woke up with a pounding headache and a sickness in his stomach that a hangover couldn’t rival.
He cast a sideways glance at the sunlight peaking through his blinds, a silver of the window visible, showcasing the outside world in a much better mood than he could hope to muster. His clothes from last night lay in the same pile he left them in when he stripped and climbed into bed, too drunk to do anything but lie there and let sleep overtake him. His mouth was dry, tasting of whatever liquor he’d mixed to get him in this state, but all he could remember was the feeling of you against him.
For one brief, blissful moment, everything felt correct. Months of feelings captured when he let his instincts take over his restraint, taking two steps forward and fully falling into you, pressing his lips against yours in a feverish state.
And you had responded in kind. He could still feel the way your nails dragged down the nape of his neck, fingers buried in his pinkish locks. He could still hear your body’s response, keening into him as if you two together were natural. His thigh between your leg, sliding in like a piece of a puzzle, your mouth slotted against his, his hands gripping your waist, and you, in the center of it all, so reactive and responsive to his movements.
And just as quickly as it came, it vanished. Fucked up by a drunken decision on a Sunday night that left him waking up in a bed that wasn’t his own with a girl who didn’t deserve to suffer the repercussions of his indecision and insecurity.
Toji, ever the enabler, accompanied Sukuna and some of their other frat brothers to their favorite dive spot, where the drinks were cheap, and the bartenders poured heavy, especially for customers they knew whose pockets were deep and got deeper the more drinks they had. Sukuna, by nature, was a favorite customer, only rivaled by Satoru, both of whom had closed shop one too many times.
It was late – too late to be drinking this much on a Sunday night, but Sukuna couldn’t bring himself to care as the bartender poured him another drink from the well. Toji, in a rare occurrence of rationality, cut himself off after the third drink. His eyes flicked over to the entrance of the bar, and they narrowed at what he saw.
“You’ve got trouble headed your way.”
Sukuna’s head turned, and Uraume’s clipped bob entered his vision. He sighed, ambivalent about her arrival, turning back to his drink. “Whatever.”
“Haven’t you been dodging her texts?”
“Yup.”
Toji stared at him incredulously, shaking his head as he lifted his glass, downing the rest of the drink in one swallow. “You’re ridiculous.” He slid his glass against the bar top and reached into his jeans pocket, pulling out a few crumpled ones.
Sukuna side-eyed him. “Where’re you going?”
Toji glanced back at Uraume, who spotted both men at the bar and began to make her way over. “Away from whatever shitstorm of bad decisions you’re about to make.”
Just as quickly as Toji exited, Uraume entered, flicking her hair over her shoulder and ordering two shots. She placed one gingerly in front of Sukuna, saying, “You look like you need this.”
Sukuna was positively sure he didn’t, but couldn’t focus long enough to form a sentence to argue as he wrapped his fingers around the shot, lifting it in cheers and clinking glasses with her before tapping the bottom gently on the bar, tipping his head back to down the clear, burning liquid.
Uraume followed suit, stacking their glasses and looking over at Sukuna. “So. Why’re you here on a Sunday night?”
He scoffed at the attempt at small talk. “Could ask you the same thing.”
Uraume shrugged, her eyes trailing. “Probably the same as you. Looking for a distraction.”
A distraction. That’s exactly what it was. A distraction, and a hazy-headed decision that led to him abandoning Toji at the bar, and waking up in Uraume’s bed, back slick with sweat and regret as she slept soundlessly next to him.
It was an asshole move, and he knew it. He knew as soon as he left the bar that he would regret it, but it wasn’t enough to get him to stop. He wasn’t sure why. He’d never been one to hesitate. And when it was offered up so casually, who was he to refuse when you and he had nothing tying you together? No loyalties, no pledges of abstinence or celibacy, no titles of girlfriend, boyfriend, or friends with benefits. Until last night, you hadn’t even kissed yet.
And now?
Sukuna wasn’t sure if he could even call you a friend.
All you had were close encounters and yearning glances from across rooms, hushed tones and subtle touches that lingered like the smell of your shampoo and the musk of his cologne. Momentary pleasure followed by a week of guilt, plaguing him like whatever sickness you had caught last week.
And just like that, his mind was back on you. You, and your dejected face as you watched the grimace form on his. The way you fought against your lower lip wobbling, your waterline dampening against your will. He wasn’t so bold or full of himself to declare your heart crushed, but he knows he saw something break behind your eyes, and he was worried he wouldn’t be able to repair it.
He reached for his phone, battery almost empty from last night’s negligence, and saw no response from you. He would’ve been embarrassed by the multiple texts going on unanswered with anyone else, but with you, he couldn’t give a damn.
sukuna | I know I fucked up but please let me explain.
sukuna | I’m so fucking sorry.
sukuna | Please let me talk to you.
sukuna | I regret hurting you but I don’t regret kissing you.
Timestamped at two in the morning; all left on delivered. He figured as much, considering how wounded you looked when you left him standing on the patio. He winced at the last text he sent, too drunk to come up with something better, something more soothing, but it wasn’t like it wasn’t true. Considering how hard he was when he felt you pressed up against him, he figured you knew it too.
He threw his arm over his eyes and groaned, feeling ill in more ways than one. It didn’t help that an unwelcome knock and entry of his white-haired friend timed itself so perfectly with his current state.
Gojo bounded over, propping himself on Sukuna’s bed, irritably chipper. “Well, don’t you look positively sunshiney.”
Sukuna glared at him from beneath his comforter. “Get. Out.”
“Y’know, maybe, if you’d just taken my advice when I gave it to you weeks ago, we wouldn’t be in this situation. But here we are. Feelings, trampled on, numbers, blocked – ”
“She hasn’t blocked me. At least, yet. Semester’s not over, and we’re project partners. She can’t.”
“Oh, I think she has the license to kill you after what you put her through.” Gojo retorted, tone playful, but eyes serious. “You really hurt her last night.”
“You don’t think I know that?” Sukuna snapped, sitting up in his bed, a menacing tone lacing every word. “Get the fuck outta my face. Who are you to tell me that, anyway? Some idiot who’s taken her on one date?”
“Last time I checked, it’s one more than you’ve been on with her.”
Sukuna felt his fist twitch beside him. He only glared in response.
“I don’t know why you’re glowering at me. I’m not the one who fucked up. I’m not the one who wanted to have their cake and eat it too. I’m not the one who – ”
“Yeah, yeah, I got your point, dickhead. I know I fucked up.”
“At least you’re not totally dense.” Gojo eyed him up and down, judgment oozing from his gaze. “So. What are you gonna do about it?”
Sukuna exhaled, casting a sideways glance at his window, still obscured by his curtains, and yet the midday sun persisted, a sliver of light illuminating his room.
“She won’t even talk to me. What am I supposed to do?”
Gojo shrugged. “Dunno, but it better be something good.”
Sukuna’s scowl deepened. “You’ve butt your head in every part of this since the beginning, and now you decide to stop talking?”
“Yeah, I gave both of you my advice and look where that’s got us. Maybe if I shut up, it’ll encourage you two to sit and actually figure out what you both want. Y’know, communicate. Like adults do.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m not laughing. You shouldn’t be either. You better come up with something that sweeps her off her feet before she decides I’m clearly the better option.”
“Gojo?”
“Yes?”
“Get the fuck out my room.”
|||
Utahime, Yuki, and Shoko both watched with concerned eyes as you recounted everything they had missed – from the sickness, to him hooking up with Uraume the following day, to the cold shoulder treatment and the kiss on the patio. You watched as their jaws dropped lower and lower, and despite your overwhelming sadness and anger at him, you felt the blood rush to your cheeks as you recounted your shared moment outside the party.
“He did what?” Utahime leaned forward, flushed at your hushed retelling. “Oh, my God.”
Shoko placed her hand on your shoulder, nodding solemnly. “I am so proud of you. A lesser woman would have folded.”
“But I did fold! The fucking kiss, I – ” You buried your face in your hands. “I shouldn’t have kissed him.”
“Was it good?”
You flushed as Shoko and Utahime admonished Yuki’s question, but you felt heat rise to your cheeks from the answer that immediately popped into your brain.
It was fucking amazing.
You weren’t totally inexperienced. You had had your fair share of kisses in your lifetime, but none were quite as passionate as what you experienced on the patio that night.
Last night, after getting ice cream with Satoru and him dropping you off at your apartment, you laid in bed, wide awake, replaying what had transpired between you and Sukuna by the nanosecond, frame by frame.
His heated gaze. His hands, so big and hungry as they gripped your hips, squeezing, kneading, as if he was trying to fuse your bodies into one. His mouth, setting the pace, insistent, not overpowering, sucking and nipping at your lips so gently, yet wanton lust bled through every breath. His chest pressed against yours, heart beating wildly, the two of you generating enough heat to warm a small village. That warmth pooled at your stomach, sinking lower and lower as you felt him drag your body over his thigh, thick and sinewy with muscle pressed against your core and overwhelming all of your senses, sending your brain into overdrive.
You felt yourself get flustered thinking about it, and you hated yourself for reacting that way.
“It doesn’t matter whether the kiss was good or not; what matters is that he hurt her.” Utahime pulled you into her, trying to comfort you as best she could, running a hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry you went through that.”
You mumbled out an empty thanks. It was nice to have friends who cared so much, but you could barely sort out your own feelings on the matter, let alone what you were going to do to proceed forward.
It was Saturday morning, and you and Sukuna’s normally scheduled study session had been abandoned, considering last night's events. His unanswered texts and calls weighed heavily on your phone as you contemplated what you should do next.
sukuna | i regret hurting you but i don’t regret kissing you.
You remember the sick, giddy feeling in your chest when you read that message when you woke up this morning. You wanted to scream, and cry, and berate him for making you feel so small, but you couldn’t help but crave his body on yours again, because as awful as you felt afterward, you didn’t regret it either.
He made you feel dirty, like someone to be used and disposed of – but that damn kiss…
Could it all have really meant nothing? Were you truly that simple, that one kiss could send you weak in the knees, abandoning your morals, what you stood for, ridding you of your self-confidence, for a man you’d only known for three months?
The logistics of it all sent your already reeling mind into a whirlwind. You didn’t understand how feelings could be so compartmentalized, for a guy to be able to kiss someone with that much fervor, knowing their date, who they’d slept with less than a week prior, was standing a couple of hundred feet away from them.
The hypocrisy almost made you want to reach out and apologize to Uraume, who was nothing but kind to you when she made small talk at the bar that night. Neither of you deserved this, but when whatever you and Sukuna have — or had — didn’t even have a label, what would you even apologize for? You knew they weren’t dating; nobody needed to tell you that the resident campus terror didn’t date, but you couldn’t help but feel like you owed her something, if not conciliation for the embarrassment of a night Friday was.
After Utahime, Shoko, and Yuki tired themselves out from their crusade against Sukuna they nobly took on for you, they left you to your own devices, both a blessing and a curse. The more you contemplated, the worse the knot in your stomach tightened.
You looked back on his text with disdain, your frown deepening as you read the messages over again. You shut your phone off, scooped up Miso, then locked yourself in your room, attempting to distract yourself from the horrors of yesterday. As the day went on and throughout the evening, while you tried to study, you kept hearing your phone buzz, and you got so fed up, you tossed it under your pillow, trying to force all your feelings down every time you saw his name pop up on your screen.
However, the universe seemed insistent on reminding you of everything, as Miso started meowing incessantly, perched in the corner of your room. You tried to ignore her calls for attention, focusing on a student’s paper you had to finish grading this weekend, when her meows started turning to howls, you whipped around, scowling at your cat. “What?” You snapped. “What do you want?”
Her tail curled, and it was then you faltered, seeing what she was sitting on top of.
Sukuna’s hoodie, still folded in the corner of your room, where you and he both left it the weekend you were sick.
Your lip twitched, and you locked eyes with Miso, who only blinked innocently in response. You huffed. “Traitor.”
You were restless that night, tossing and turning, and replaying Friday night as if it was a movie being projected overhead, thoughts and feelings too vivid for comfort. You groaned, burying yourself in comforters and pillows, and tried to ignore the heat in your stomach at the thought of his hands on you again.
The next morning brought about another flurry of texts. The unread messages from Sukuna were piling up, and you knew he realized you were adamant on ignoring him. You scrolled past, determined on not dealing with this problem until you had to, and instead went to see what Satoru had messaged you.
satoru | you know he’s crashing out right
you | Good.
you | He should be.
satoru | whew, icy
satoru | i love it
satoru | how long are you gonna ignore him for
you | Optimistically? Forever.
you | Realistically? Until class on Tuesday.
Satoru’s contact bubbled in and out of frame before he called, and you picked up the phone. “What’s up?”
“Just got tired of texting, and I wanted to hear your voice.” You heard a scuffle in the background as Gojo adjusted, then a door shut, presumably as he entered his bedroom. “How ya doin’, angel?”
You sighed. “Definitely better than Friday night. Thank you again for the ice cream.”
“Of course. Had to make sure my favorite girl was doing okay.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re laying it on thick, Satoru. I’m still not gonna sleep with you.”
“But wouldn’t it be such great revenge?” You could almost see Gojo’s maniacal grin through the phone as he joked. “He’d be so mad.”
“Well, he would have no moral high ground to stand on, considering what he did.” You picked at your nails, holding the phone between your shoulder and ear.
“Yeah, well, he definitely knows he fucked up.”
“Please, he’s only upset that he got caught.” You scoffed, lips downturned into a pout.
“At least you know you mean something to him,” Satoru offered.
“Yeah, whatever,” you grumbled. “He doesn’t care about me.”
“That’s not true.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Um, do you not remember what happened, or do you need a refresher?”
“Trust me, I remember. I just don’t think someone who ‘doesn’t care about you’ would be blowing up your phone and texting you nonstop for the past few days. I’m surprised he hasn’t broken your door down yet.”
“And how would you know about the texts?” You drawled out.
Gojo deadpanned through the phone. “Angel. I live with him. Trust me, I know.”
In truth, Satoru had never seen the degree of crash-out Sukuna was displaying. If they thought Sukuna’s bad mood a few weeks ago was dreadful, this mood swing sent the pledge class into hiding. When he wasn’t checking his phone every ten minutes, he was scowling at anyone who entered within a five-foot radius. Toji and Gojo were the only two who were able to enter his berth without losing their heads, and even then, Sukuna could only stand their presence for a few minutes before he stormed out, irritated at the knowing glances Toji and Gojo exchanged. On the bright side, probably stemming from the fear and exhaustion he’s seen in pledges’ frames, Gojo has never seen the frat house cleaner.
A twisted part of you revelled in the fact that Sukuna was as affected as you were. You hummed in satisfaction, to which you heard Gojo chuckle. “Maybe send him a message, just so he knows you're alive. If not for yourself, for my sake. I can’t deal with this tantrum for much longer.”
“I refuse to apologize or be held responsible for the behavior of a man-child.” You sniped. “If he wants to talk to me, he’ll have to beg.”
You heard the smugness in Gojo’s tone. “Careful what you wish for.”
After getting off your call with him, you sat, contemplating his words as you read over your notes in preparation for your lectures on Monday. While you still hadn’t read any of the numerous texts Sukuna had sent, you thought about opening and responding countless times. You were sympathetic to the plight of innocent pledges, but you also knew your anger was justified. It was strange, knowing there was some care Sukuna had for you, even if all his recent actions couldn’t demonstrate it. But you think back to the soup he made, the few ice pops left in the freezer, the lattes that sat ready for every study session, and his stupid hoodie that still sat in the corner of your room. It couldn’t mean nothing, and you knew, deep down, it didn’t.
But even then, you knew what you wanted. You couldn’t be with someone where the physicality of it all was easy, but the words and actions were too hard. Regardless of your feelings for him, you wanted somebody you wanted you just as much, if not more. Even at your most angry, you didn’t ever seriously consider hooking up with someone else, and not out of some misplaced loyalty to Sukuna – you just couldn’t understand how someone could claim to be so interested in one person and sleep with someone else in such a short time frame. It grated on your nerves how all-consuming your stupid little crush became. It wasn’t like you didn’t have other options, but when Sukuna was right there, with his coral hair that curled slightly when it was damp, and his tattoos that contrasted with his tanned skin, and his frustratingly handsome smile that he only showed when he was feeling vulnerable…how could you be interested in another person?
You knew Sukuna didn’t owe anything to you; the two of you were “just friends”, after all. But he had a way of making you feel like you were someone that mattered to him, someone that he cared for, and someone he potentially wanted more with. For one moment, the kiss made it all feel possible.
But the platitudes you’ve heard so many times echoed through your head like chants in a temple. If he wanted to, he would. Actions speak louder than words. Hymns you’ve used more times than you can count in feeble attempts to protect yourself, and look how that turned out. You would think yourself into a stupor trying to parse his behavior like a psychologist, so you opted to stop thinking about it altogether. You would stop worrying about what would happen when you saw each other on campus, or how you would be civil enough to finish working on your project together. You decided to nip the problem in the bud, to stop this agonizing over a man who sent you into such a spiral. You opened your phone, scrolling past the number of texts he’d sent, and drafted one of your own.
you | Good evening. I’m texting to let you know that I will be finishing the project on my own time and no longer require your assistance. Your work in certain sections is appreciated and will be acknowledged with your name on the final submission. There is no need to further communicate with me, so at your earliest convenience, please delete my number. Good luck with your future endeavors.
You scanned it one more time before nodding in satisfaction, sending the message, and tossing your phone to the side. Not two minutes later, your phone began to ring.
Sukuna’s contact took over your phone screen, and you watched as the rings ran out, sending him to voicemail. A text pinged at the top of your screen.
sukuna | pick up your damn phone
His call rang again, and this time, you rejected it, sending him straight to voicemail. Not to be deterred, he called again, and you huffed, angrily shooting him another text.
you | Leave me the fuck alone.
you | I’m trying to ignore you.
sukuna | well you’re doing a great fucking job at that
you | I don’t know who you think you’re texting with that attitude, but it’s certainly not me.
you | Try that again.
sukuna | you’re not finishing this project by yourself
you | Watch me.
you | I’d rather chew glass than have to sit in your presence.
You waited for a text in response, but your messages sat unread. As the sun set on Sunday evening, and you prepared yourself for the long week ahead, you waited for another text from him to pop up on your screen, but nothing ever arrived. It wasn’t until the next morning, when you plopped yourself down in the first lecture of the day, that you opened your computer and saw an email waiting for you:
It has come to my attention that there seems to be an inequitable distribution of work amongst this particular partner group. Normally, I would leave disagreements to be settled between students, given you are no longer in kindergarten, but considering the strange, and might I add surprising, nature of the request I received, I felt it necessary to weigh in.
I felt I made it very clear the fair division of work for this project was imperative to earning a passing mark. Regardless of each student’s writing proficiencies and varying levels of engagement in our sessions, it is required that both students’ work be evident in the final submission. Clear evidence of a single student’s handiwork will result in immediate failure for both group members.
I hope the two of you can reach a consensus quickly, considering the final submission is due in just little over two weeks.
Best of luck,
Prof. M. Yaga
You blinked. Surely, this could not be in response to the text you sent?
But as you rechecked your inbox, you saw a post-script email, addressed only to you from Prof. Yaga:
You cannot complete this project by yourself, no matter how much you want to. I am expecting to be able to see your partner’s work evident in this submission. I would hate to fail such a talented student.
You saw red. Your nostrils flared. You felt your fingers twitch over the keys dangerously, and you fought the urge to send the most passive-aggressive email back to Sukuna. Instead, in a blind rage, you snatched your phone off the desk and marched outside the classroom, shoving through the double doors into the quietest part of the campus quad, dialing Sukuna’s number, ready to give him an earful.
The line had just barely been picked up before you began yelling into the receiver.
“Fuck you! Fuck you, you pig-headed, low-life, entitled piece of shit!” You hissed, not caring to police your tone in front of the few students milling about the grassy area. “You told on me? You tattled to our professor? Like a fucking child?” You laughed vindictively, no humor evident in your tone. “Are we in preschool? You can’t deal with the consequences of your own actions, like some spoiled brat? Oh, fuck you.” Your tone was frosted as you repeated yourself, insult after insult spewing from your mouth, built up anger for days now coming out like a geyser.
Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, Sukuna remained silent, simply listening to your battering and berating of him with the smallest, smug grin on his face. Yeah, he was getting cursed within an inch of his life, and yeah, he could feel your vitriol spewing through his phone’s speakers. He knew your voice was loud enough through the receiver for his surrounding frat brothers, casually lounging on the sofa nearby, to hear your insults and throw worried glances back, wondering if this exchange was bordering on domestic abuse. But judgment be damned, he couldn’t care less. He was just glad to hear you talking to him, saying his name, and acknowledging his existence. The radio silence was eating him alive, and the anger in your tone told him that you still cared – he wouldn’t have known what to do if you were apathetic to it all.
He waited until you had tired yourself out, your heavy breathing coming through the receiver, before he responded. “I’m just trying to make sure I’m carrying my load of the work,” he responded, trying to keep his tone level. He knew that sensing a hint of mirth in his tone meant you would send him packing, and he was already in the dog house for the stunt he pulled last week.
“Oh, sure. You didn’t care about that at all when you suggested I do all the work a few months ago.” You responded snippily.
“That was then. Before I cared about you.”
Your lip twitched. “You mean before you cared about your grade in this class?”
“No, I mean you.” Sukuna ignored the shocked glances his frat brothers sent him, wondering if he was talking about the same person who was just cursing his bloodline for generations to come. “I care about you.”
You fought against the flutter in your chest, a flurried betrayal of wings battering against your ribs. “Shut up.”
“I’m serious.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am,” Sukuna responded firmly. “I’m gonna prove it to you, I’m serious about you.”
You exhaled. “Yeah, well, good luck with that.”
“I already fucked it up once. I’m not gonna do it again.”
You frowned, not sure whether to trust his words. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Sukuna hummed. “You’ll see it.”
You twisted your lips, partially stunned for words, partially refusing to say anything else lest you embarrass yourself. Sukuna took the opportunity to fill the silence you created.
“Do you want to meet in the library later to finish up the conclusion? I’ll be free the rest of the day.”
“I have plans,” you cut out, lying through your teeth.
“Fine. We’ll plan around you. When are you free?”
“Never.”
“Hm. That’s not conducive at all. What about 7:00?”
“I’m going to a seminar called ‘go fuck yourself’.”
“Sounds stupid.”
“You’re stupid.”
“Maybe you should go to a comeback seminar instead, do they have those?”
You scoffed. “Goodbye.” You pulled your phone away from your ear to hang up, but his voice called out before you could hit the end button.
“The sooner we finish this, the sooner you can stop seeing me.”
You closed your eyes, sighing. You hated when he was right.
“I’ll see you at 7, then?”
“Whatever, fine.”
“See you then.” He hung up the phone, and you stared at the dark screen, apprehension painted across your face. You didn’t have time to be frustrated by his insistence, not when your lecture had started five minutes ago. You grumbled, heading back inside to prepare for class.
Back at the frat house, Sukuna grabbed a hoodie, tossing it over his shoulder, and snatched his backpack resting on the floor nearby. He heard Gojo call back from the foyer. “Where are you going? You don’t have class until noon.”
Sukuna grunted in response. “Gotta see about a girl.”
He slammed the door on his way out, missing the knowing grin Gojo had on his face.
|||
Sukuna sat as the population of the library dwindled down to a few straggling students, the mood somber as the lone souls sat scattered across the floors of the library, the mountain of work surrounding them dauntingly high. While the rest of the students’ faces were sullen, Sukuna’s eyebrow ticked up as the clock’s minute hand shifted forward another notch.
8:09 PM.
No text. No call.
He would laugh if he weren’t so irritated.
He knew what you were doing. He wasn’t surprised by it either. You were simply calling back to his ignorant actions when you first met – his egregiously late showing to the first study session you had together. One would argue it’s poetic justice, forcing him to taste his own medicine. He’d expected nothing less from you.
What he wasn’t expecting was for you to show up as late as you did in his hoodie.
The shades might’ve been overkill, considering the sky was a deep shade of purplish black by the time you waltzed into the library, finally gracing him with your presence. The large frames covered your face, a difference compared to the glasses you normally wear – he missed the way those sat on your face.
You stalked toward your usual table, and Sukuna bit the inside of his cheek, neglecting to comment on how cute you looked when you attempted to be brooding. You paused as you came across the empty chair sitting beside him. He raised his eyebrow in response. “Nice to see you made your way here. Did you get lost?”
You didn’t respond. Instead, you gazed past him, grimacing at the open chair next to him instead of across the table where it normally rested. You walked around his sitting figure, approaching the empty chair from behind and picking it up, trotting both the chair and you around to the other side of the table as Sukuna looked on in bewilderment. The four legs of the chair hit the library’s floor with a resounding thunk, and you plopped yourself down, folding your arms over your chest. He could feel your withering gaze, only concealed by the dark tint of your shades.
Your head ticked slightly to the side. “Here now. Let’s get this over with.”
Sukuna blew out a breath. He knew you were going to make this difficult, but he wasn’t prepared for how difficult you were going to be. No sense in beating around the bush, especially if this is already how you were acting. “We should talk about last Friday.”
You shook your head. “No.”
“We need to talk about it.”
“We don’t need to do anything but finish this damn project. And if we’re not gonna do that, then you wasted both of our time.”
“Fine. Then I’ll talk, and you can listen.”
“I’m not gonna sit here and listen to the excuses you scrambled to make.” You grabbed your bag, beginning to stand and exit, before you felt Sukuna’s hand grip your forearm. You head whipped back to glare at him, voice low. “Let. Go.”
“Let me explain.” His grip was like a vice, and as his fingers twitched, you could feel the slight, frantic desperation seeping through the pads of his digits. His eyes were still the hard, fire-forged red they usually were, but the centers were warm, as if lightened by the vulnerability he only seemed to be able to show you. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Please.”
The word sounded strange coming from his mouth, like it had been years since he’d uttered it. Your eyes met, his studying your face for signs of flight. You felt your features soften against their will. You hated how an earnest look and a pleading tone from him made you feel so weak and pliable.
You yanked your arm from his grip, dropping your bag and pushing your shades up your face. You folded your arms back across your chest, as if trying to hold yourself together, feigning strength in a moment you felt so little. “Fine. Explain.”
He took in a breath before beginning to talk. “I know I hurt you last week, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you didn’t matter, or that it – the kiss, I mean – didn’t mean anything to me, because it did.”
You pursed your lips, not giving him an inch. He scratched the back of his neck and continued.
“I did hook up with Uraume, and I’m not gonna make excuses for it. It was fucked. I know that. And it was more fucked that I kissed you like that. It wasn’t fair to either of you, but I wouldn’t take it back.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, you’ve made that extensively clear.” You took a deep inhale, attempting to regulate your nervous system, now firing on all cylinders. “What does it matter to you anyway? We don’t owe each other anything. We’re not together, and I thought we agreed — ”
“I swear to God, if you say ‘to be friends’, I’m gonna lose my shit.” He laughed humorlessly, his eyes sparking as his fingers threaded more aggressively through his hair. “Are you serious? I don’t know how much more obvious I can be.” He scoffed before stepping closer to you, his scent invading your senses, your glasses the last line of defense against his proximity. His gaze was too strong, too charged, too heated for you to maintain focus. You shifted down, looking off to the side, but he shook his head.
“Look at me.”
It was your turn to swallow. Time started to catch like molasses being poured out of a jar.
“I am looking at you,” you said, your voice reduced to a whisper.
“No,” he shook his head as he reached up toward your face. You instinctively flinched back, but his touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the burning look in his eyes as he pulled your shades off, his gaze locking with yours as your neck tilted up to face him. “Look at me when I say this to you.”
You held your breath.
“I don’t wanna be your fucking friend.”
Exhale. Your chest rose and fell as his eyes flicked down to your mouth, slightly parted in surprise as his irises darkened. Flashes of the kiss ran across your mind like film strips in a projector, and you struggled to keep your breathing normal.
“I want you.”
There it was. Out in the open now, undeniable, irrefutable, resistant to your self-convinced state of denial. You felt your arms squeeze tighter against your sides. “Then why did you – ”
He cut you off. “She asked me weeks ago. And I thought you – I thought it would be best if I back off when it didn’t seem like you were interested.”
He seemed to move impossibly closer as his voice fell to a hush, its deep rumble caressing your spine.
“You set a boundary, and I wanted to respect that. I tried to. But – ”
His fingers twitched beside him as he resisted reaching for you again. He blinked, trying not to lose himself in your wide eyes, his pupils slightly blown.
“I don’t think I can anymore.”
Your breath caught. You searched his face and were taken aback at the raw emotion behind his confession. For a moment, it felt like you were back on the balcony, cornered, pressed against a column, every nerve singing, lit on fire by the vigor in his tone and eyes. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and you saw his eyes track it, as if he remembered how you tasted that night, the kiss sweet and fiery and intoxicating in ways that clearly left you both craving more.
Your eyes fought to stay on his, and like he sensed your apprehension, he closed his, letting out a breath of frustration and control, taking a step back and breaking the charged sphere you two had entered.
“Sorry. That wasn’t – I didn’t mean to say that. Fuck, I mean, I did, but not like that.” He palmed his forehead, his frustration with his own ineptitude that caused him to stumble over his own words. “I didn’t mean to ambush you with that. That’s not why I asked you to come.”
“So why did you ask me to come?” You could hear the exasperation in your tone, weariness pulling at your features as your frown deepened.
His shoulders slouched, mirroring your exhaustion. Such an intimidating figure, reduced to your whims.
“To apologize. To say sorry to your face.”
“Well, you did that. Mission accomplished.” You twisted your mouth in vain attempts to stop the tears pricking the corners of your eyes.
You couldn’t begin to say why you were getting emotional.
A confession, finally, begot by a night defined by drunken actions. Not how you wanted it, not how you planned, and very much not when you needed it to happen.
But was it too little, too late?
“Anything else?”
A pause.
“I needed to see if you’d give me another chance.”
“To do what?” Your facade crumbled with every earnest look he gave, his words like well-aimed arrows piercing your armor.
“Study with you.”
You exhaled shakily. He pressed forward.
“To let you know that I wanna be more than your project partner.”
Your hands flew up to your eyes, not being able to take the intensity of his look. Your fingers pressed into the sockets, as if trying to wipe him from your vision. “Sukuna, what are you doing?” You whispered.
A rhetorical question, asked from a place of denied delusion, your head spinning like you were wondering if the words coming out of his mouth were a figment of your traitorous imagination.
He continued. “I’m done dancing around this with you. I had to tell you before you decided to never speak to me again.”
“So you’re telling me in the middle of the library?”
“Seemed kinda fitting, don’t you think?”
You shuddered out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “No. Fuck you. You don’t get to make jokes right now.”
“Sorry.”
There wasn’t a hint of remorse in his tone.
You felt his hands curl around your wrist, hesitant, but tender as they pulled your palms gently down from your face, and you blinked back tears to focus on him.
“I’m not good at this. I haven’t done…this, before, but you make me wanna try. And I know I fucked things up before, but I’m hoping you’ll give me another chance like you did when we first met.” He paused, waiting for any sign of resistance or rejection before continuing. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve been told I’m a pretty quick learner.”
This time, your laugh was watery, shock, humor, and disbelief all rolled together in a way that chimed in Sukuna’s ears. “Oh yeah? Who lied to you and said that?”
“Some girl who already called me out of my name, like, four hours ago.”
You shook your head slightly. “You deserved it.”
“Yeah, I did.” He didn’t try to put up a fight. “I’m sorry.”
His thumb caressed your inner palm before he pulled away entirely, shoving his hands into his pockets, afraid he would cross a line too soon after being granted the slightest bit of clemency from you.
You both already missed each other’s touch.
He gazed fondly at you while you fondled the slightly worn, frayed sleeves of his hoodie. He cocked his head to the side, gesturing to the table where his notes sat splayed open. “Help me draft the conclusion?”
You paused, thinking of how to respond, wiping your waterline dry from formed tears.
“Sukuna, I can’t give you an answer right now.”
“I’m not expecting you to.”
“I just need time to think. It’s just been, I don’t know, a lot, to say the least.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” He’d lost track of the number of times he’d said it to you. More than he probably had throughout his college career, but he didn’t care. He’d say it a thousand times more, as many times as you needed to hear it before you’d believe him.
“I know it’s late, but…” he trailed off, his head nodding over to the textbooks and readings, lying abandoned on the table, inanimate witnesses to a long-awaited confession.
You stared at him before nodding, wordlessly following his lead and sitting down, beginning to pull out your laptop. The two of you worked quietly, burning the midnight oil as more students filtered out, and the two of you were left surrounded by the shelves of books and volumes of words left unspoken.
Well into your study session, you purposefully ignored looking at him when you asked your next question. “What would you have done if I refused to come?”
He paused, thinking of his answer. “Before getting on my hands and knees to beg? Maybe threatened to delete everything we worked on thus far.”
“Well, God forbid you do that. I still need to pass.” You raised an eyebrow as you considered his second statement. “So, is hands and knees begging still an option, or…?”
He snorted. “In your dreams, princess. Not since I know that you like me at least a little.”
“Shouldn’t that be more of an incentive? I thought princesses got what they wanted.”
He scratched his chin and looked up at you playfully. “Can’t pull out all the stops here. Week’s barely started. Besides, if you think I’m getting on my knees for you in the middle of the library, you’re out of your fucking mind.”
Your stomach flipped at the prospect of him doing anything else. “Oh, so there’s more?”
“As long as you want there to be.”
You didn’t respond. You weren’t sure how to. And like a clairvoyant, he was already tuned to what you were thinking.
“I don’t need you to tell me yes or no right now. But, I need to know there’s a chance. That I’m not sitting here, trying to convince you of something you don’t want.”
The silence rested heavy between you as the pads of your fingers pressed along the keys, their clacking puncturing each second as Sukuna waited patiently, hopefully, for an affirmation.
You were gracious enough to give him one.
“I’m still wearing the hoodie, aren’t I?”
|||
“Is that him?”
You walked patiently behind the mass of students exiting the classroom. The session passed slowly with anxious students asking as many questions as possible before the onslaught of exam season hit. Unfortunately for you, your partner TA was out sick for the day, meaning you were the only one fielding questions. You were already tired, and had another two classes to go before you could go back home and crawl into bed. You sighed as the mass trickled outside like water dripping from a leaky faucet – agonizingly slow.
“Yeah, I think it is!” A hushed, excited whisper came from the young sophomore standing in front of you, pointing at a figure standing across the hallway and giggling to her friend next to her. “He is so freaking hot.”
You rolled your eyes at the comment. You couldn’t be sure who the girls were talking about, but you were certain it was some senior idiotic student athlete they had no business being interested in. As politely as you could, you began to shimmy past the two girls, rushing to make it to your next class across campus. “Excuse me,” you said, apologizing as you pushed past.
You picked up your stride, dodging the students strolling through the hallway when your spine stiffened at the sound of your name being called.
Your entire face tightened. Of course, it wasn’t just any idiotic student athlete – it was yours. At least, your project partner.
You registered his voice faster than you wanted to, and your steps faltered before you picked them up again, this time faster than before. You heard the two underclassmen whisper in confusion, wondering why the campus’s notorious rake was chasing after their relatively unassuming TA, and you flushed, trying to escape before the gossip ring suffocated you.
You heard him curse before his footsteps quickened, and before you could protest, he was walking next you, stride by side. “You walk so damn fast,” He gruffed out.
“Gotta get to class.” You hiked your bag higher on your shoulder, the computers and textbooks feeling like they weighed a thousand pounds.
His eyes took in your wince of pain at the weight of your bag. He held out his hand. “Let me.”
You balked, your hand tightening on the strap. He rolled his eyes at your apprehension. “Stop being dumb. Give me your bag.”
“I can carry it myself.”
“I don’t doubt that. Give it to me.”
“Once again, I’m fine.” You seethed, shouldering away from him.
“Your arm looks like it’s about to fall off.”
You scoffed. “You calling me weak?”
“Yes.” He took matters into his own hands, snatching the strap off your shoulder against your protests, and hiking it up on his. You had to admit, it was a funny sight to see, Sukuna with your ivory green bag hung over his shoulder, your charms and keychain dangling off it. He adjusted it a couple of times, clearly not expecting it to weigh as much as it did. “Where’s your next class?”
You raised your eyebrow. “You are not about to walk me to my next lecture. Are we fifteen?”
He sucked his teeth. “Well, I have your bag now, so I don’t know how you’ll attend class if I don’t.”
You rolled your tongue along your cheek. “You must be stupid if you think this is gonna make up for what you did.”
“And you must be more stupid if you think this is all I’m doing.”
You huffed, crossing your arms and stalking forward, refusing to face him or let him hear the fact that your heart skipped a beat. “Stupider. The phrase would be stupider.”
“That’s why I gotta keep hanging around you. You make me smarter.”
“That’s the only reason? Because I’m smart?”
He shrugged. “You’re not bad to look at either.”
You were irritated by how cloudy your demeanor was compared to Sukuna’s light, airy nature. He took his steps casually, but also cautiously, aware that you hadn’t totally forgiven him and trying not to push your boundaries too far. It was a delicate balance you both were traipsing between, with him trying to prove his feelings and you pretending not to be interested in his attempts. You knew it, and Sukuna basked in the light at the end of the tunnel – you were giving him a chance, and that was all he needed.
“So, this is your big plan, then?” You said, snark encompassing the curiosity in your tone. “The princess treatment?”
“If that’s what you wanna call it, then sure.” He glanced at you with the smallest smirk on his face, his dimples poking out and accentuating his face.
“Knew you liked the nickname.”
You exhaled through your nose and faced forward, continuing to walk and deciding you were done speaking with him.
You both ambled in silence, trekking through the middle of campus and collecting stares along the way. You knew Sukuna was used to the attention he received, but you surely weren’t.
He took in the anxiety on your face. “What?”
“Hm?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Besides being unwillingly escorted to class? Nothing. Everything’s fine.”
“Bullshit. It’s all over your face. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just…” you hesitated, eyes flicking between the confused glances and lingering gazes. You pushed your frames up the bridge of your nose, the familiar motion soothing. “People are staring.”
He surveyed the area, onlookers whipping their heads away when they accidentally made eye contact. He scoffed. Pathetic. “Let them.”
“Not scared I’ll ruin your reputation?”
“Don’t really care, princess.”
He said it with such finality that it didn’t leave room for argument.
You bit your lip as you continued to walk. At what point was it cruel to let him do this? To pull him along on a string, to lead him on when you didn’t know if you could commit to him? You weren’t entirely sure what you were waiting on, if it was holding out to hear a magic phrase that could undo the mistakes that were made, or some grand, meaningful romantic gesture that seems to come out of the movies you’ve seen so many times with Shoko and Utahime. But was that not what had happened in the library yesterday? Maybe you were waiting for the hurt to stop feeling so fresh, for the cold delivery of Uraume’s words to stop feeling like it was a dagger, perfectly cut to the shape of your core, slicing through the emotions you had just begun to acknowledge.
You hadn’t come to a conclusion by the time you reached the building for your next class, the familiarity of your classmates sporting various levels of emotion, from shock to surprise, from approval to downright confusion at Sukuna dropping you off at the front door.
He shouldered your bag off handing it to you by the strap. “I’ve got class at noon, so I can meet you in the caf around 1:30?”
You raised your eyebrow. “Who said I wanted to have lunch with you?”
He exhaled. “Ok. Let me rephrase. I’ll be free at 1:30, and I’d like to have lunch with you. Will you meet me in the caf?”
You waited a beat.
He flicked his eyes to the ceiling and sighed. “Please?”
You gave him a small smile. “See? Not so hard. Could do without the attitude, though.”
You took your bag from his hands, and he put his hands in his pockets. “So was that a yes for lunch?”
You shrugged. “If I feel like it.” You threw a wave over your shoulder as you stepped inside your senior seminar class, greeting your peers you’d been working with for the past few months.
A nice girl, with whom you had been friendly all semester, glanced at you peculiarly. “Were you talking with Sukuna just now?”
You nodded, hoping that would be the end of the questioning.
“Are you guys, like, together?”
You let out a small laugh, opening up your laptop. “He wishes.”
You clicked open your texts to see that your group chat with your girlfriends had new messages to read.
utahime | sho and i going off campus for lunch today! anyone want to join?
shoko | ramen shop nearby has an awesome lunch special that i wanna check out
yuki | i’d be down
yuki | can i bring cho?
shoko | NO
shoko | your bf cannot come everywhere with us yuki
yuki | he’ll pay
shoko | …
shoko | ok this time i’ll allow it
Shoko emphasized your name in the chat.
shoko | are you coming or what?
you | I think I have lunch plans
utahime | you think???
shoko | with who?
shoko | who could be more important and interesting than us?
yuki | her boyf
you | Not my boyfriend
yuki | sorry, soon-to-be boyf
shoko | NOT HIM
utahime | i thought we were done with him
yuki | i thought so too
yuki | what could have possibly changed in two days?
shoko | to be fair a lot
shoko | it doesn’t take a long time with these two
To your chagrin, Yuki and Utahime both laughed at Shoko’s message.
you | shut up
you | idk
you | He said please, I guess
yuki | oh wow, that’s actually a new one for him
utahime | the bar is in hell
yuki | wait i wanna lunch with you guys then
you | It wasn’t exactly an open invite
yuki | does it sound like i care?
yuki | not everyday you get to see sukuna groveling
utahime | wait so you said yes to lunch?
you | Not exactly
utahime | but you didn’t say no either?
you | Correct
shoko | should we unpack that orrrr
you | I’d actually rather not, thanks
With that, you exited the chat, putting your focus back on the lecturer, ignoring the way your stomach grumbled.
|||
The campus’s cafeteria was alive with bustling students and raucous chatter, under and upperclassmen alike carrying trays of food through the long dining hall, searching for a place of respite to take twenty minutes to fuel themselves for the trek ahead. You weren’t sure how you were gonna find Sukuna in the mass of students, but you didn’t have to worry because his eyes found you first. He called out your name as he walked toward you.
“You came,” he said, slight surprise clear.
“I gotta eat.”
He hummed, following you to the line with a choice meal. You looked over your options and selected something new on the menu. Sukuna frowned as you reached for your order. “That looks like shit.”
“Sukuna! They can hear you.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure they agree with me. It looks like literal ass. Don’t get that.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Fine. Then let me suggest. I don’t think you’ll like that one.”
“Well, good thing no one asked you what you were thinking.” You thanked the server as you took your food, heading toward the end of the aisle to pay.
He rolled his eyes at your retort, ordering and dragging his tray of food behind you. Once you got to the cashier to pay, you fumbled for your card, only for Sukuna to extend his, reaching across you to hand it to the worker. “I got it.”
You whipped over to glare at him. “You are not paying for my meal.”
You reached to pull his hand away from the register, but he dodged, shoulder-checking you out of the way and pushing you out of line. “Stop being difficult. It’s just lunch.”
The cashier’s nails clicked against the screen as she took his card, swiping it and handing it back to him. “Not to intrude, but it’s honestly the bare minimum.”
Sukuna looked at you pointedly. “See? Bare minimum.”
You deadpanned, your grip tightening on your tray, and you turned your back on him, pivoting on your heel, looking for a free table to eat at. You set toward one near the edge of the room and set your bag down on the ground nearby with a thunk, with Sukuna following suit, taking the seat next to you. As you sat in the chair, he eyed the distance you put between yourself and him, and with his free hand, he grabbed the support beam underneath your seat, pulling you closer to him, his bicep flexing and the chair making an ugly scraping noise along the linoleum floors. By the time he stopped, you could not only smell the lunch he’d ordered, but him, who smelt of rain and sandalwood and all-around just too damn good for it to be the middle of the day. You stiffened in your seat as your knees brushed each other underneath the table. “You’re in my space,” you grumbled, pulling your tray closer to your body.
“Cope.” He said, already beginning to fork food in his mouth, adamant on not moving any further away.
You fiddled with your utensils, staring down at your meal. “So, are you just gonna follow me around for the rest of the day?”
His shoulders went up and down. “Until you tell me to stop.” He looked up from his plate and locked eyes with you, his gaze serious with a touch of vulnerability.
“Do you want me to stop?”
You broke your gaze first, staring down at your tray. You gnawed on the inside of your bottom lip, unsure how to answer.
He chased your eyes, leaning down to find your gaze again. “Do you?”
You landed on the truth. “No,” you mumbled, voice low and soft.
Sukunua felt the tension leave his shoulders, anxiety dissipating off his frame. “Ok. So I’ll keep following you around, and you can keep pretending not to like it.”
You wrinkled your nose. “I don’t like it.”
“Uh huh. Sure, princess.”
You couldn’t protest any further before Gojo and Toji arrive from behind, clapping Sukuna on his back. You saw him visibly tense, clearly irritated by the interruption. “What’s up, lovebirds?” Satoru chided, taking the seat next to you while Toji sat next to Sukuna.
Sukuna scowled. “What do you want?”
“The team’s wondering why you’re not sitting with them.” Satoru winks at you. “We see why.”
Toji chuckled, thumping Gojo on the back of his head. “Stop flirting with her before he kills you.”
“He won’t kill me. Not as long as she tells him not to.” Gojo’s eyes found yours, humor dancing behind his pupils. “Tell him not to kill me.”
You smirked, tilting your head to the side to look at Sukuna, who was already giving you the deadest stare back. “Don’t,” he gruffed out.
“Please don’t kill him.”
“How about seriously maim or injure?”
“Please don’t do that either.” Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh. “He’s your friend, y’know.”
“Don’t remind me.”
Gojo groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Ugh, you guys are disgusting. I miss when you hated each other.”
“Says they’re number one, certified wing man.” Toji cajoled, reaching to steal food off Sukuna’s plate, who immediately smacked his hand away aggressively. “You’re just mad she didn’t want you.”
Gojo had flipped Toij off from across the table when you heard your name called, and you saw Yuki and Choso heading toward your group, their lunches in hand. It was almost as if you could see the dark cloud forming above Sukuna’s head as they dragged chairs up to your table, propping themselves across from you.
Choso greeted his friends while Yuki said hello to you. She eyed the distance between you and Sukuna and nudged your leg with her foot underneath the table, her eyebrow flicking up, and a repressed smile causing an upturn in her mouth. You shook your head slightly, telling her to disengage.
You felt Sukuna’s eyes on you as you picked over your food. Yuki glanced between you and Sukuna and looked at your full plate of food. “Damn, is the lunch that bad?”
“It’s fine, I’m just not that hungry.”
As if cued, your stomach grumbled, and you froze in embarrassment, giving her a sheepish grin.
You felt Sukuna grunt beside you. “Told ya you wouldn’t like that shit.”
“It’s fine,” you insisted. “It could just use a little salt. And pepper. And flavor in general…”
You trailed off, looking at Yuki bashfully. Sukuna nudged your tray forward away from you and almost imperceptively pushed his between to share. “Don’t eat that shit. Here.” He said, voice swallowed up by the conversation surrounding him.
“I don’t wanna eat your food.”
“I’m not gonna finish it all anyway.”
A lie. You’ve seen him and his teammates inhale meals like they were professional bodybuilders, calories or recommended portion control be damned. He’d even requested double portions today to load up for a scrimmage later today. He would have finished the entire portion and yours easily.
You stared at him, and he stared back, unwavering. Finally, you cracked, your hand gingerly reaching out to steal fries off his tray. You murmur a thanks, and he nods, turning back to Toji to join in whatever argument he’d started with Choso and Satoru.
Whether or not your tablemates saw what just happened, they gave you the grace of ignoring it, but you couldn’t help but be suspicious of the tiny knowing smile on Yuki’s face.
After the lunch hour was up, you stood to throw away your trash and walked back to the table to see Sukuna already standing with your bag. He looked up at you from his phone and asked where your next move class was. You went to respond before Yuki cut in.
“Actually, loverboy, I’m gonna steal her away for a bit. I’ve been meaning to catch up with her, but she’s such a busy woman.” She patted you on the shoulder, a gleam in her eye telling you that you knew you were about to face a serious interrogation.
Sukuna looked ready to protest, but Yuki silenced him with a wave of her hand. “You’re not bound by the hip. You won’t die if you’re separated for a few hours. You’ll be fine.” She snatched up your bag from his hands and held it to your chest. “She’ll catch up with you later.”
Yuki hooked her arm through yours and went to exit the cafeteria, shouting goodbyes to the boys you all left behind.
As soon as you were out of earshot, Yuki’s arms shoved your side, sending you stumbling off course. “Um, hello? Lunch, carrying your bag? What did I miss?”
You raised your hand to your brow, trying to rub away the stress marks Yuki’s questioning was already forming. “Yuki, please - “
“No matter. I have the perfect place for you guys to hard launch to the rest of campus.”
“We’re not dating,” you mumbled, but Yuki barreled forward.
“Sig Chi is throwing this Friday! We should definitely go, and I can get you on the list.”
“When has partying ever been the solution to something?”
“It’s always worked out for me,” Yuki shrugged. “But I digress. It’s kinda a joint thing, so most of the guys will be there. It’ll be fun, and it’s themed!”
“Oh joyous.”
Yuki pouted. “You used to be so much fun. What happened?”
“Well, the last time you invited me to a party, I ended the night crying in an ice cream shop.”
“Perf, then we can only go up from here!”
You rolled her eyes at her grating optimism. “What’s the theme?”
“Little White Lies.” You swore, her eyes sparkled as she shared the concept behind it.
“Y’know, for someone who claims to be so loosely associated with Greek life, you sure do love the social events.”
“Yeah, me and every other bitch. Trust me, I’ve seen half of those AGL’s drunk in a frat basement before. Everyone’s a hypocrite, I am just willing to own up to it.” She grabbed your arm, shaking you gently. “So, will you come? Pleeeaaaseeeee?”
You felt your extended eye roll turn into a long blink, and the next thing you knew, your eyesight was impaired by the lack of lighting in the frat house and the contents of your cup which sat drained quicker than you had anticipated.
It had been a long week, to say the least. Your brain fired back and forth between options, and Sukuna wasn’t making it any easier on your part. The gestures seemed to only get more elaborate, from walking you to class, to showing up early to your seminar with your coffee order in hand, his bedhead still evident and voice still gruff from his body being up before his mind. It almost seemed the more you tried to dig your heels in the ground, the more determined Sukuna seemed to prove himself to you. You struggled with the position you were putting both of you in, but you also knew a sick truth: at any point, you could have told him to stop, and he would have, without hesitation. You never did, and he gave you the grace of not mentioning it.
The end of the semester project came and went, with the brief class presentations of findings showcasing the wide variety of students’ preparation and levels of understanding of the material they studied for weeks. You and Sukuna’s was concise and clean, as to the point like a needle in a sewing kit, topped off with a nod of approval from Prof. Yaga himself. At the end of class, he beckoned the two of you to his desk, staring at your approaching figures over the rims of his glasses.
He folded his hands as he spoke. “Now, I won’t lie, I was worried about the contents and quality of your work, given the worrying email I received a few weeks prior.”
You braced for impact, but his next words threw you for a loop.
“But I must admit, you two surprised me.”
You blinked.
He continued. “Based on my preliminary readings and the presentation you all gave today, it seems like you both have a firm grasp on the material provided, and melded your writing voices and opinions together well to form one coherent sound.”
Sukuna stiffened. “Um, thank you?”
Yaga nodded, glancing between you two, the barest hint of a smile playing at his lips.
“You work well together.”
You wanted to scream. If only.
The hell you went through this semester, and the hell you were going through this past week alone, was enough to drive you into a deep slumber akin to hibernation, not waking until the promised bright spring day of graduation warmed your face with its rays. You felt the silence between you two as you exited the classroom. You shrugged your back higher as you glanced over at him. The end of the semester, the end of the enforcement of being in each other’s presence, the realization of this potential ending stung like the cold bite of the late November winds, icy and bitter.
You hadn’t anticipated it being so anti-climactic.
“So,” you started. “It sounds like we did well.”
“Yup.”
“I’m glad. I was nervous there for a second.” You chuckled nervously. Why were you nervous? You couldn’t say as you kept talking. “I was worried our third argument was weaker than our first two, but that supporting source you found at the last second really helped bolster it.”
He crinkled his brows, looking sideways at you while keeping your pace with his hands in his pockets. He called out your name, but your words overwhelmed him.
“I also thought we were gonna need another run through before presenting, but you’re a super solid presenter. I guess that comes with being in the business school, but you spoke really well, and you even added one of the facts that completely slipped my mind. Thanks for that, by the way.”
He called your name again, this time more forcefully. Your lips snapped shut.
“What are you doing?”
You felt your mouth go dry. He reads you so easily now, so intimately, it’s chilling.
“Nothing.”
“You’re rambling.”
“No, I’m not.”
He gave you a look. “We did fine. We did better than fine. Yaga’s such a hard ass that the review we got was practically glowing. You know this.”
You stayed silent.
He asked again. “What’s wrong?”
A million answers ran through your head. A confession, an acceptance, a forgiveness you’d been ready to extend when you heard him apologize in the library, a prideful snark you couldn’t bear to let go of. You didn’t want this, whatever it was, to end.
But why were you struggling so hard to just say that?
“Are you going to the party tomorrow?”
His eyes stared hard at you. “That’s not what you were going to say.”
A moment passed. You didn’t falter. He sighed softly, letting you get away with it.
“Sure, if you’re going.”
Your last conversation is why you couldn’t help but search for a particular pink head of hair in the crowd. You pulled at your tank top, crudely written words decorating its front in black ink while you rested your head against a wall, Yuki making conversation with a girl you weren’t familiar with. You trailed your eyes lazily over the throngs of people dancing, drinking, and laughing throughout the house. You felt a body slide next to your space against the wall. They took a sip of their drink before casting a sideways smirk at you. “Not your scene?”
You shrugged. “Just bored.”
“Maybe I can change that.” You caught a glance of his side profile, piercings adorning the crest of his ear, his hair cropped close to his head, plastered around his dome, not to be helped by the heat radiating off the bodies that surrounded them. Despite the feverish state of the room, this stranger felt inclined to move even closer to you. You pressed your body against the wall, in hopes its walls would concave and absorb you.
You let out a puff of air in sardonic laughter. “I doubt that.”
“Yeah? Well, let me get you a drink.”
Your grip tightened over the mouth of the cup. “I’m good, actually.”
“Come on,” he dragged, his face getting closer, the liquor on his breath almost palpable. “It’s just one drink.”
You wrinkled your nose, using your knuckles to press against his chest. “Can you chill?”
His grin was slimy as it grew across his face, his hand locking yours against him, his grip like iron. You tugged your arm away, but his grip only tightened. “Don’t be such a - ”
“Hey.” That dark tone, you’d recognize it anywhere. Both you and the stranger’s heads whipped over to Sukuna, brooding in front of you, eyes cold and hard like concrete. The guys’ grip loosened just enough for you to rip your arm from his grasp. You gave him a disgusted look as you stepped away, Sukuna subtly stepped between, putting more distance between you two as he used his fingers to gently guide you behind him. He glanced down at you, the facade behind his eyes cracking softly as he scanned you over.
“You ok?” He mumbled.
You nodded back. “I’m fine.”
The guy’s grating voice chimed back in as he observed you two. “Ah, I see. You’re Sukuna’s new plaything. Heard rumors, but didn’t think it was true.” He took a step back, putting his hands up in signs of surrender. “My bad man, you got it.” He smirked as he eyed you up and down, still walking away.
You scowled as the party’s crowd absorbed him, and you glanced up at Sukuna to see his jaw clenched, a vein in the side of his head popping out. He met your gaze, his eyes serious. “I don’t call you a plaything. He’s just an asshole.”
“I figured.” Your eyes shot down to his thick, tanned arms crossed over his chest, his eyes still scanning to make sure he was truly gone. “When’d you get here?”
He shrugged. “Maybe five minutes ago?”
“Are you drinking?”
“Of course. Just went looking for you first.”
Your heart fluttered as you bit the inside of your lower lip to stop yourself from smiling. You held up your empty cup for him to take.
“Top me off?”
He rolled his eyes, but took the cup from your hands, mumbling that he’d be right back.
He gripped the top of your cup as he pushed his way through the swath of bodies, heading to the kitchen to pour you a new drink and himself a triple of whatever he got you.
This past week consisted of Sukuna putting more effort into you than he had for most of his collegiate career. Early morning wake-ups to be waiting at the door of your classroom before you arrived, late nights walking you back from the library when you crammed for an important exam that had you stressed. A late-night run to the convenience store when you ran out of food for Miso, the suffering through your TA office hours listening to freshmen and sophomores ask the most moronic questions he’d ever heard, just to spend time with you. Snack breaks, coffee runs, and campus lunches sprinkled in between; he had never felt more out of his element.
And yet, it felt natural. Not like work, and not like a burden, because he wanted to do it, and he wanted to do it for you.
He slid through the contingent of frat men hovering around the bar area, searching for something sweet but not too strong that you typically get. He grabbed a handle and began to pour when he felt eyes on him. He glanced up, only for his face to fall when he saw who was smirking back at him. He grunted. “Naoya.”
“Ryomen.”
Sukuna went to reach for the nearest mixer, hoping his silence would be the end of the conversation. If he could only be so lucky.
“Nice girl you got there. She’s pretty. Not your usual type, though.”
Sukuna didn’t respond, instead focusing on eyeing how much was going into your cup. You’d definitely already had some drinks in you, and he wanted to make sure you still had a good time while not getting you sick.
Naoya continued, unperturbed by his lack of response. “I thought you were fucking that girl on the swim team? The brunette, remember? Didn’t have much to work with, but she gave great head.”
Sukuna set the bottle down with a bit too much force, the glass clanking against the countertop. He clenched his teeth, reaching to pour himself another shot.
“Or what about that cheerleader? She was a fucking dime, man. Too bad she was ran through. She’s fucked half of my chapter. Can’t touch that with a ten-foot pole.”
Sukuna refrained from mentioning how many girls had the displeasure of sleeping with Naoya by throwing the glass back, immediately reaching to pour another shot.
Naoya slid a cup over, gesturing for him to pour him one too. Sukuna gave him the dirtiest glance and pulled himself back from spitting in his drink as Naoya’s voice droned on. “Nah, she must not run in any of those circles. I’ve never seen her before.” Naoya side-eyed him, a malicious grin evident. “Clearly, you went out of your way for this one. Had to have someone no one else has touched, right? Nice picking, though. She’s hot. Real nerdy type, and they’re always killers.”
Sukuna slid his drink back with so much force the liquor nearly sloshed from the cup. Naoya wrapped his hands around it, cheering to Sukuna before downing the contents. He shook his head, crumpling the cup and tossing it to the side haphazardly. It was then that Toji strolled into the kitchen, closely followed by Satoru, who immediately took note of the situation and glanced at Sukuna, trying to see if an intervention was needed. He shook his head imperceptively, telling them not to engage. They nodded back, grabbing beers from the fridge and greeting Naoya.
“Hey man, long time no see. Nice party.” Satoru said, ever trying to be the diplomat. He couldn’t figure out what they’d just walked into, but all he knew is Sukuna was maybe two shots away from causing a scene he knew their frat president would be livid about having to deal with.
Naoya shrugged. “It’s whatever. The pledges are idiots. We lost most the decent crossbids to you, and the ones we got can’t throw for shit.” Naoya cocked his head toward Sukuna, who stared ahead at the wall, attempting to control his temper. “I was telling your pledge master that the girl he brought is hot as fuck. She looks like one of those types that’s all quiet and shit until you start fucking them, then they can’t shut up.”
Toji’s grip tightened around his beer bottle while Gojo’s back stiffened. He glanced between Sukuna and Naoya, the former not seeming to react to the latter’s comment. “Yo, dude, chill with that. You sound crazy.”
“I’m just saying. Let me know when you get bored with that, so I can show her a good time.” Naoya commented, clapping Sukuna on his shoulder.
Toji chuckled mirthlessly. Gojo sighed. He could hear the discordant snapping of a violin string, the line too far crossed for Sukuna to pull himself back. And here he was, hoping for one drama free night.
Sukuna’s head turned ever so slightly to the side, glaring at Naoya from the corners of his eyes. “What?” His voice was low, barely legible over the sounds of the party, but anger radiating from his tone palpable enough to be felt around the room.
“Lemme know when you’re done fucking her, so I can take her for a spin after.” Naoya looked at Sukuna’s reaction, his eyes blazing, and added, as if probing. “Unless you haven’t fucked her yet. Nerdy girls probably play hard to get. Typical. Just let me know and I can fuck her first, make it easier for you. Bitches like that need to be broken in, then they’re easy money - ”
To be honest, Sukuna would have been disgusted by Naoya talking about anyone like that. But because it was you, especially because it was you, he let pure, hot instinct take over, not caring about social consequences or fraternal relationships. He was graduating in a semester, and he’d been waiting to do this since he met Naoya during rush three years ago.
He didn’t even realize he’d thrown a punch until the crowd gasped and shouted in shock, Naoya’s hands flying to cover his face, his body staggering but not going down. Sukuna looked down at his own fist, knuckles already pulsing from the impact and starting to bruise.
Huh, he thought to himself. Must’ve been that last shot. His punches normally were a lot stronger.
Naoya wailed, blood spurting from his nose as his eyes found Sukuna’s in anger. “Jesus Christ, man, what the fuck was that?”
Sukuna shook out his hand, voice ice cold. “Do everyone a favor, and shut the fuck up and die.”
He stalked out of the kitchen, leaving a fuming Naoya behind with Satoru and Toji closely trailing.
Gojo shook his head. “Prez is gonna kill you for that.”
“Yeah, well he can go eat shit. Everyone’s been wanting to do that since freshman year.” Sukuna glanced over at Toji as if waiting for a comment.
Toji only shrugged. “Nice punch. Good swing. Needed more follow through.”
Sukuna rolled his eyes. “Give me a break. I’m ten shots deep.” He shook his friends on his shoulder, walking back around the house to find you. He stopped when he saw you on the porch with Yuki and Choso, your eyes glancing around as if searching for someone. He felt his cheek twitch before he stepped out into the chilly night, handing you your cup. “Here.”
You took it from his hands, whispering thanks. “What took you so long?”
“Got held up.”
Your face crinkled in confusion before you glanced back down at his hand, slightly smeared with blood. You looked back up, eyes slightly wide. “Is that yours?”
He scoffed. “Of course not.”
“Then whose is it?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. It’s fine.”
You exhaled, dropping the topic and raising the cup to your lips, taking a long sip. Sukuna’s eyes trailed down your neck, settling on your shirt as his eyes scanned the words on your chest.
The corner of his mouth twitched up. “Is that about me?”
You smiled into the rim of your cup. “What, this?” You glanced down, tugging the end hem of your white tank, the neckline sliding down, just barely revealing the top of your lacy bra that sat underneath.
I Hate Him. Big, black swoopy letters in the same handwriting he’d been reading all semester.
“Well, it’s not for Satoru.”
“Thank God for that,” Sukuna came forward, using his fingers and looping them into your belt strap, tugging you close to him. Your hips lurched forward, and the rest of your body followed suit, your wrist curling around your cup, its plastic shell being the only thing that separated your chests. “So,” his voice dropped down to a whisper, caressing your ears and gliding down your neck, encasing you two in an intimate moment, the surrounding party left behind. His thumb crept up, up, up, over the waistband of your jeans, the pad of his finger lighting a trail across your hip, where the tiniest sliver of skin was left exposed. His eyes flashed as he looked at you. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”
Any other moment, you would have been mortified to be caught in such a position, on the front porch of raging party in the background, but with you three, four, five drinks in, and the guy you’ve liked for weeks, whose mouth and eyes and body you couldn’t get out of your head since you kissed, standing mere inches in front of you, staring you down like you were the only person around clouded your judgement the way his maroon eyes were – to be frank, you couldn’t give a damn.
“Do you want to be forgiven?”
His response was immediate. Firm, but charged, like his words were aimed directly at your heart. “Yes. Please. Forgive me. I’m sorry.”
The grin that stretched along your face was cat-like. “I like when you beg.”
“Yeah, well, don’t get too used to it.” His tone went gruff, but the lilt in his smile gave him away, his canines glinting in the soft moonlight.
His words dissipated, but his grin didn’t fade as he held your gaze, his thumb still gently brushing your hip. His eyes dipped down to your mouth until he dragged them back up again. His voice held a slight rasp as he started to speak. “Can I – ”
“Yo, we should leave before Naoya finds you,” Toji’s deep voice cut through your moment as he appeared from the front door, bee-lining to his friend standing to the side of the porch. He eyed the distance between you two, and his lips quirked up into a smirk before continuing. “He’s not too happy.”
“Of course, he’s not happy, you broke his fucking nose,” Gojo came out after Toji, reaching to knock the back of Sukuna’s head before he tucked out of the way.
The warmth of Sukuna’s hand left your side as he reached to push his friends away, and you maneuvered out of the scuffle to tell Yuki you were headed out.
“But you just got here,” Yuki whined.
“Yeah, and now I’m just leaving.”
She groaned, but stood up. “Ok, let me walk you home.”
You shook your head. “No, it’s chill. Sukuna will.”
Yuki raised her eyebrows knowingly. “Oh, he will?”
“Stop it, it’s not like that.”
“Is it not?” She chided. “It’s ok, I can take a hint. We can debrief another time. But you kiss and make up, or whatever it is that you plan on doing.”
“I don’t plan on doing anything.” You protested.
“Oh, good, it’s much more fun when it’s a spur-of-the-moment type thing.” She nodded. “Do you need a condom?”
“Yuki, I’m walking away now. Good night.”
“Stay safe!” She called back, laughter obscuring her words.
You walked back over to Sukuna, who leaned against the wall as Gojo and Toji bickered beside him. You sidled up next to him, wrapping your arms around his. He raised his brows in curiosity, but didn’t pull away.
“Walk me home?”
He nodded, barely bothering to say bye to his friends before walking down the steps with you, arms still linked, holding you close as the night air nipped at your exposed skin.
Your walk was largely quiet save for the crunching leaves underfoot and the brush of the wind against the bare tree branches, its bend filling the air with a late night whistle.
You looked up at Sukuna to already find him gazing at you. “What is it?” He murmured.
“You broke someone’s nose tonight?”
He sucked his teeth. “He was on some fuck shit. Trust me, he deserved it.”
“Was it that guy from earlier?”
“Doesn’t matter. He was spouting absolute bullshit.”
“About me?”
Sukuna didin’t answer, but his eyes gave him away.
“I hope you don’t get in too much trouble for that.”
“Oh, no, I definitely fucked it up, but I don’t really care. I’d do it again. Probably swing harder, too.”
You chuckled, a small puff of air coming out from your warm breath. Autumn was well on her way out, and the crisp chill of winter was setting in, finals and the highly anticipated winter semester break looming overhead. You always found it funny how the shifting of the seasons was like the changing of the tides, and how your grasp on something so simple could slip and drop you in something wild and unpredictable. Autumn had shook the ground beneath you, causing your knees to buckle and head to spin, but with winter, and her frosty demeanor and ice below your feet, threatening to crack and cave causing you to slip, you found yourself ready, ready to shift your balance and take on the uncertainty in the storm, armed with a red hoodie that wasn’t yours.
As you approached your door, Sukuna stopped in front of you, the outside light shining through his tousled pink locks. He cleared his throat, somewhat nervously.
“So, about tonight…”
You hummed, telling him to continue.
“I don’t want to pressure you into an answer, and like I said before, whatever you give me, I can accept.”
You cocked your head to the side, a small smile on your face.
“I asked you if you could forgive me.”
You nodded, biting your lip.
“...Can you?”
You turned to the door, sliding in the key and bumping it open with your hip, looking over your shoulder to face him.
“Why don’t you come inside and find out?”
a/n: next chapter is pretty much just smut and i promise you will not have to wait a month and a half for it.
