Mine to bother — fratboy!sukuna x shy!reader
summary: a boy in your class tries to catch your attention, but (un)fortunately Sukuna already catched it
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The lecture hall was loud, packed with the usual pre-class chatter, but you were doing your best to blend into the background. You kept your eyes glued to your notebook, gripping your pen tightly as a classmate from your group project leaned over your desk.
"So for the presentation on Thursday, do you want to handle the slides or the talking points?" he asked, completely oblivious to how much your heart was hammering just from the sudden social interaction.
"Um, I can do the slides," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the noise. "If that's okay with you..."
"Yeah, totally! That works—"
The classmate's voice abruptly cut off. The air in the doorway of the lecture hall suddenly felt heavy, suffocating even. You didn't need to look up to know who had just walked in.
Ryomen Sukuna.
The campus's most notorious, self-centered frat guy didn't just walk into a room; he commanded it. Today, he was wearing a loose tank top, making no effort to hide the intricate, pitch-black lines encircling his upper arms and wrists, or the dark circles stamped onto his shoulders. The sharp, horizontal tattoo across the bridge of his nose and the crown-like symbol on his forehead practically gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights. He ran a hand through his spiked pink hair, his extra set of eyes—usually slits beneath his normal ones—flickering open just enough to scan the room with utter boredom. He was a hedonistic, chaotic mess, and yet, nobody dared cross him.
As he sauntered down the aisle, his dark eyes casually swept over the rows. Then, they locked onto you.
Sukuna slowed his pace, his gaze dropping to the guy leaning just a little too close to your desk. A sharp, mocking smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but beneath it, a sudden, dangerous flash of irritation crossed his face. He didn't say a word, just lingered for a fraction of a second before continuing down the steps, leaving an icy tension in his wake.
Your classmate blinked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh... what was that about?"
"I-I don't know," you lied, your hands shaking slightly. This was only the third time you had ever crossed paths with Sukuna, and you had hoped the first two times were just weird flukes.
The moment class ended, you packed your bag as fast as possible, desperate to escape. You slipped out into the crowded hallway, hugging your books to your chest and keeping your head down.
The heavy thud of your heart didn't slow down even after Sukuna's tall figure disappeared around the corner of the bustling science building. The hallway slowly returned to its usual chaotic hum, students rushing past you to make their next classes, entirely unaware of the absolute panic attack you were currently hovering on the edge of.
You stood frozen for a solid minute, your fingers digging into the cover of your textbook so hard the cardboard bent. What is his problem? you thought, your mind racing through the three bizarre interactions you’d had with him this semester. You weren't anyone special. You were a quiet biology major who spent most of your time in the back row of lectures or hidden away in the quietest corners of the campus library. Sukuna, on the other hand, was the campus enigma—a chaotic, heavily tattooed force of nature who seemed to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, without a single care for the rules.
"Hey! Are you okay?"
The sudden voice made you jump, nearly dropping your books. You turned to see your project partner, Daichi, jogging up the hallway toward you, a look of genuine concern on his face. He had clearly witnessed at least part of that interaction.
"Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine," you said quickly, trying to force a reassuring smile, though your voice pitched a little too high. "Just... got caught off guard."
Daichi looked down the hallway where Sukuna had gone, his expression a mix of awe and anxiety. "Man, that guy is terrifying. Did you see his eyes? It literally looks like he has a second pair of eyelids under his normal ones. And those tattoos... people say they aren't even fake, like he got them all done by some underground artist before he even came to college." He shook his head, turning his attention back to you. "Look, if he's giving you trouble, you should tell someone. He looked like he was about to rip my head off back in the lecture hall just for asking you about the PowerPoint."
"No, it's not like that," you lied, desperately wanting to drop the subject. The last thing you wanted was for Daichi to get involved and somehow draw more of Sukuna's volatile attention. "He's just... eccentric. Seriously, don't worry about it. Let's just focus on Thursday. I'll have my half of the slides done by tonight, okay?"
Daichi still looked skeptical, but he nodded. "Alright. Just text me if you need help with the data analysis. See you Thursday."
With a final, lingering look of concern, Daichi walked away. You let out a long, shaky breath and finally forced your legs to move, heading straight out of the building. The fresh autumn air helped clear the suffocating weight from your chest, but the phantom feeling of Sukuna’s heavy hand on your shoulder lingered.
By the time Thursday rolled around, you had managed to push the incident to the back of your mind. The presentation was worth twenty percent of your final grade, and your anxiety over public speaking had completely eclipsed your anxiety regarding the campus's most dangerous frat guy.
The lecture hall was just as packed as it had been two days prior. You sat in the front row with Daichi, reviewing your notes one last time. Your hands were cold, a classic sign of your stage fright acting up.
"Next up, Group Four," the professor called out, gesturing toward the projector screen.
"That's us," Daichi whispered, giving you an encouraging nudge. "We got this."
You stood up, your legs feeling a bit like lead as you walked to the front of the room. As you turned around to face the audience of nearly a hundred students, your eyes instinctively scanned the rows. And there, sitting right in the dead center of the middle row—a spot he *never* usually occupied, given his habit of skipping class or sitting at the very back to sleep—was Sukuna.
He was propped up back in his seat, one arm thrown lazily over the empty chair next to him, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He wasn't looking at the projector screen. His golden-brown eyes were locked onto you, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face as he noticed you pale. The extra slits beneath his eyes were closed, but his presence was no less overwhelming.
Great , you thought, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of your neck. Just great.
"Go ahead whenever you're ready," the professor said.
Daichi took the lead, kicking off the presentation with a confident introduction. You focused entirely on the laptop screen, clicking through the slides you had spent hours perfecting. When it was your turn to speak, your voice trembled slightly on the first sentence, but you managed to find a rhythm. You explained the methodology, keeping your eyes strictly fixed on the back wall, deliberately avoiding the middle row.
But Sukuna wasn't making it easy.
As you spoke, he leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand, his gaze drilling into you with an intensity that felt entirely entirely unfair. When Daichi stepped in to answer a question from a student, he casually put a hand on your shoulder to lean in and whisper, "Which slide has the graph for the control group again?"
The moment Daichi's hand touched your shoulder, a heavy, oppressive silence seemed to ripple from the center row. You didn't even have to look to know Sukuna’s expression had shifted. The lazy amusement was gone, replaced by a sudden, sharp hostility.
"Slide seven," you whispered back hurriedly, gently stepping a half-inch away from Daichi.
The rest of the presentation passed in a blur. When the professor finally clapped, signaling the end of your turn, you practically sprinted back to your desk, packing your notebook into your backpack before the next group even reached the podium. You couldn't stay here.
"Hey, we did awesome!" Daichi said, sitting back down next to you. "The professor looked really impressed with the formatting you did on—"
"Thanks, Daichi, I have to go to the restroom really quick," you interrupted, grabbing your bag and bolting out the side door of the lecture hall before he could finish his sentence.
The hallway was quiet since class was still technically in session. You walked quickly toward the exit of the building, wanting nothing more than to get back to your dorm, lock the door, and pull the blankets over your head.
"Running away again?"
You froze. The voice echoed in the empty hallway, deep and laced with a terrifyingly sharp amusement.
You turned around slowly. Sukuna was leaning against a vending machine a few yards away, a half-empty energy drink in his hand. He must have left the lecture hall right after you did. He straightened up, his massive frame easily cutting off the path to the main exit.
"I'm not running away," you said, trying to sound brave, though your voice lacked any real conviction. "I just... finished my part of the class."
"Right. Sure," Sukuna scoffed, taking a slow step toward you. The dark, intricate lines of his tattoos seemed to contrast sharply against his pale skin in the dim hallway lighting. "You looked like a deer in the headlights up there. Tell me, does that idiot always touch you like that?"
Your eyebrows knitted together. "What? Daichi? He just asked me a question about the slides."
"I don't care what he asked," Sukuna snapped, suddenly closing the distance between you. He stopped just inches away, his towering height forcing you to tilt your head back to look at him. The air around him felt hot, charged with an aggressive energy that made your pulse skyrocket. "I told you the other day to tell him to back off. You're terrible at defending your own space."
"Why do you even care?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, fueled by a sudden burst of frustration and adrenaline. "You don't even know me, Sukuna! We've spoken exactly three times. You're just... hunting for reasons to be angry."
Sukuna stared down at you, his eyes narrowing to sharp points. For a second, you wondered if you had pushed him too far. A dangerous, unpredictable silence stretched between you. Then, slowly, the tension in his jaw gave way to a low, rough laugh that vibrated through his chest.
"Why do I care?" he repeated, his voice dropping an octave, becoming dangerously quiet. He leaned down, his face stopping just inches from yours, his golden-brown eyes flashing with a mix of amusement and something entirely possessive. "Because I don't like other people touching what catches my attention. And right now, you're the only interesting thing on this boring-ass campus."
Your breath hitched. Your heart was beating so loudly you were certain he could hear it. "I'm not an object," you murmured, your voice trembling.
"Never said you were," he murmured back, a dark, wicked smirk pulling at his lips. He reached out, his large, warm hand lightly brushing against the side of your neck, his thumb tracing your jawline for a fleeting, electrifying second before he drew back. "But you're mine to bother. Remember that. Next time I see that guy crowding you, I won't just look at him."
Before you could find your voice to reply, he turned around, tossing his empty drink into a nearby recycling bin with a perfect strike. "See you around," he called out over his shoulder, his tone casual and bored once again, as if he hadn't just completely upended your entire sense of reality.
You stood alone in the hallway, your face burning, watching his retreating back until he finally walked out into the autumn sunlight.
hi sweets!! sorry i wasn’t active this days but uni is killing me… hope you like my work! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
@lunatguard @mariasan09 @catkuna @pandoras-boxof-secrets @yummidumplingss @emeraldpurple
