[ frat!kuna x sociallyawkward!f!reader ] running into the embodiment of your biggest fear disguised as a man— not once, but twice— wasn't bad enough. your best friend telling him that you're mute because you couldn't apologize due to your awful social skills was the cherry on top. as a result, you bite your tongue, even when you're alone. but the state of your tongue is definitely about to worsen, because another run-in with him at a party will change everything.
── .✦ TAGS
18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of nicotine/cigarettes. slight angst. hurt/comfort. MISCOMMUNICATION. slow burn. social discomfort. socially awkward reader. self-consciousness. overthinking. anxiety. social anxiety. making out. rough kissing. neck kissing. dry humping. slang. social media references. (later on… smut. oral (f! receiving). p in v.) -> tags will be updated as series continues.
── [ chapter 1 ] : look at me. (wc: 6.9K)
── [ chapter 2 ] : listen to me. (wc: 8.1K)
── [ chapter 3 ] : ...
── .✦ you prefer reading on Ao3?
art by @/naomiiocha on tumblr (left side) and @/neverisa on instagram (right side)
[ TAGS ] — mdni, 18+ only. use of alcohol. use of cigarettes. MISCOMMUNICATION. slow burn. social discomfort. socially awkward reader. self-consciousness. overthinking. anxiety. social anxiety. making out. rough kissing. neck kissing. slang. social media references.
worst thing about being a touch deprived woman? being socially incompetent. your biggest talent is managing to make every human interaction as awkward as possible. your mighty talent has left you with absolutely no game, because you have a crippling fear of even looking into a man’s direction. not only have you given up on interacting with men— they've also given up from approaching you, since you mostly didn’t acknowledge those who advanced toward you. and when you did? you’re either a stuttering mess or you give them the nastiest look without truly meaning to. it’s like your brain short-circuits when a man breathes in your vicinity. in some way, it’s a blessing. because men can be scary as fuck.
still being a virgin in college was definitely not on your bingo card. especially because the ao3 and tumblr fics you read obsessively have you craving things you can never see yourself actually doing. you’d probably be a threat to every attractive man you set your eyes on if you had the guts to even do half the things you read and fantasize about. lucky them, you guess.
the moment you push open the door to the bakery, a soft chime rings overhead and a wave of warmth greets you like an embrace. the air is rich with the comforting scent of freshly baked goods. behind the glass counter, neat rows of pastries glisten under warm lights.
you hear the gentle hum of conversation, the clink of coffee cups, and the rhythmic whirr of a coffee machine. a baker in a flour-dusted apron slides another tray of pastries fresh from the oven.
“hey, what can I get you?”, finally it's your turn ordering. this shouldn't be a problem. you’ve been preparing yourself for this exact conversation ever since you've stepped foot into the establishment.
you point at the pastry on the display. “hi, just one of those please”, great! you smiled— you greeted him back— your voice was even— you said please— you smiled— everything is going smoothly! you definitely bagged this interaction.
“will you be paying with cash or card?”
“no, thank you.”
well... good try!
you stare at each other as your brain processes the words that left the workers mouth. you were expecting him to ask if that would be all. why wouldn't he follow the damn script?
ten dragged out and painfully awkward seconds of looking at each other later, you let out a shuddering breath and reply with a higher voice than intended, “...card.”
you pay quickly and turn away even faster. the worker calls out a goodbye to you and you wish him a great weekend. it’s tuesday.
you leave yet another bakery you'll never have the guts to show your face at again.
that was the first betrayal from your brain that day— never fast enough to actually process the words of people, but always rushing your vocal cords to answer with something that does not make any sense.
you can feel your heart thudding against your chest as you're trying to stabilize your breathing. that was embarrassing as fuck.
the second deception of your brain that day was making the moment replay in your mind— ten times more dramatic than it actually was— causing you to not pay attention to where you're walking.
at this point, you're begging for something to happen—
colliding with a brick wall was not something you intended to do— but said brick wall started acting like it was some well-rehearsed plan you’d carried out to ruin his life.
“watch where the fuck you’re going”, he spat.
blah blah blah.. proper name, place name, backstory stuff..
is this really happening right now?
you’re gawking at him. how can you not? that’s ryomen sukuna— the embodiment of a woman's wet dream.
part of you is disappointed by the fact that he's wearing a hoodie and not the slutty compression shirts you saw him in once or twice— or more times than you'd like to admit— around campus.
your feet are glued to the pavement. the universe must hate you. this close to the man you're usually scared to look at for more than five seconds— but he's on the verge of screaming at you on a busy street.
you want to apologize— you really do— but not only is your voice seemingly gone, you also can't tear your eyes away from his illegally handsome face— gaze trailing along his tattoos. with a scowl so angry, you don't doubt the thought that he's about to beat you up—
sukunas staring down at you. first, you run into him— refusing to apologize— and now you're staring at him as if he was the one running into you. the look on your face— such arrogance— could kill a lesser man. but sukuna isn’t a lesser man. he matches you with a glare of his own. he opens his mouth to pull an apology out of you, but you were gone in an instant. making him question if you're running away from him out of fear, or if you have too much pride to utter a simple apology. he glances back for a fraction of a second, confirming that you're indeed walking away— as if you're dismissing him.
“the fuck is her problem..”, he mutters to himself and resumes his walking.
you could win the olympic championship with how fast you're walking right now. you’re never leaving your dorm ever again. how can you embarrass yourself three times in a matter of five minutes? today will be the reason you won't be able to sleep for at least the rest of the week. running into sukuna out of all people? you barely see him around campus— how did that happen? now you absolutely can’t admire him from afar..
.
you are currently walking back to your dorm after a study session at a nearby cafe with your roommate, shoko.
shoko being your roommate might’ve saved you from complete social isolation. it was hard making friends with your social illiteracy. you always had a hard time warming up to people— let alone start a conversation. shoko was patient with you and never took it against you if you made the moment awkward— she gave you the time to warm up to her. now, you have no problem with talking to her and you're actually comfortable when she's with you.
you were definitely lucky with your roommate. shoko isn’t only fun to hang out with, but she’s also in the popular circle. which means, you have enough chances to step out of your comfort zone— if you ever find the balls to do so. she’s always happy to invite you to parties— even though you always refuse to attend— and save you from awkward moments that you cannot get out of with your lack of skills.
you’re walking in comfortable silence, the smell of cigarettes following you because shokos nicotine addiction screams every five minutes. the silence is suddenly interrupted as shoko snorts to herself, seemingly lost in thought.
“are you going crazy?”, you ask her with one eyebrow raised.
she removes the cigarette from her lips and looks your way, “were you trying to flirt with the barista?”
you’re taken aback instantly, “what?! no!”
she chuckles, “so how come you said ‘nice day with you’?”
“i was trying to say ‘have a nice day too’!”
“yeah, yeah”, she laughs.
you’re looking her way with panic, “did it really seem like i was flirting?!”
she just laughs as she continues walking, her gaze on the road as you still look at her, frantically moving your hands around, “oh my god, i can never step foot in there again shoko! we have to find a different cafe to study at. scratch that, i have to move away.”
“relax, it’s not that deep. im sure they’re used to your awkwardness by now”, you run your hands down your face and let out a shaky exhale “hey—“
bang.
you collide with a pole.
“oh shit”, you hear shoko saying with a voice like she’s not trying to laugh. weird— you look to the pole— she never hesitates to laugh—
oh.
you're greeted with a well-built body of a man.
that’s not a pole—
you don’t look into his face. you don’t say anything. you turn back to the path and step away, keeping your gaze on the road—
“the fuck is your problem?”
oh he’s pissed.
you stop, but don’t turn around. where’s shoko?
you want to look back— but then you'd have to deal with the pole— you want to call out to her— but you literally cannot get a sound out. your voice would betray you anyway. and your legs are already betraying you by refusing to move from your damn spot.
“tch”, you’re gonna get beaten up aren’t you? “not gonna say sorry again?”
you finally turn around, not having been able to take three steps away anyway.
you dread looking into his face. already shaking and shrinking into your own body. gulping while you look up— and up—
oh he looks angry. and you’d be an idiot if you didn’t recognize him.
that’s sukuna.
ryomen sukuna.
again.
you managed to run into the same guy twice in a span of what— six or seven days? the guy who’s known to have a short temper and absolutely no regard for the feelings of others. aka, probably your worst nightmare and the last guy you’d ever want to be face-to-face with. again? well— only because he’s scary. you’d love to look at him more. or do something more.. he’s hot as fuck. are you seriously thinking about how hot he is when he’s about to strangle you? well maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. no, that is bad. is it though? you were finally calming down from your last run-in and now it's happening again—
you can't get a sound out. what are you supposed to say? sorry? he’ll think you’re only sorry because he called you out— you didn't say sorry last week—
his brows are furrowed as he looks down at you.
he looks like he’s three seconds away from breaking your nose—
it’s getting hot. you’re sweating. you open your mouth, trying so say something— anything—
“sorry man”, shoko steps in between you with a nervous chuckle. “she didn’t mean any harm”
you could kiss shoko right now. especially because she looks like she’s gonna piss herself as well. she has one arm in front of you in a protective manner while trying to find peace with a man who could eat you both up without a sweat.
you can’t tear your eyes away from sukuna. your gaze trails his tattoos— to his clenched jaw— that jawline that could cut you— that slutty compression shirt that doesn’t hide anything but hides everything at the same time— his folded arms that he’s flexing right now— veins standing out along his arm—
he lets out an unamused laugh. “the fuck you both just standing there for?”
his gaze fixates on you, pinning you to the spot you were already unable to move away from— “are you going to run away again?”, he asks with a low voice, eyes narrowed— sharp as knives.
shoko takes your arm and drags you away from the scene.
you’re still in shock. she looks back and walks faster.
“what the fuck? i’m not mute”, you whisper-shout to her.
“i know that you moron! i fucking panicked!”
“well no shit you panicked.”
“well i’m sorry that someone just stood there and also full-on checked out THE sukuna without shame, WHILE he was on the verge of BEATING us up!”
“i didn’t check him out!”, you gasp.
“you know damn well you did”, shoko mutters through clenched teeth.
somewhere behind you both, sukunas rooted to the pavement with a confused look on his face.
.
it’s been a week. you’ve been acting like there’s a bounty on your head. what if sukuna catches you talking with someone? after two days of skipping classes out of fear of seeing him— shoko had to drag you out of your shared dorm.
your eyes are checking for pink hair every second of the day. avoiding any kind of human interaction. you were already avoiding socializing your entire life— but this time it feels like your life depends on it.
a part of you is still scared of making a sound in your own dorm.
shoko is sitting on the floor with her back against the couch, typing away on her laptop while you’re laying behind her on said couch and staring holes into the ceiling.
“do you remember the guy that almost beat us up last week because I walked into him and didn’t have the guts to say sorry?”, you ask shoko, acting nonchalant about it as if you’re not shitting yourself at the thought alone.
her typing slows down for a second before she lets out a snort at the memory. “you mean sukuna? you know damn well who he is. you practically drool every time you see him on campus. ”
“shut up.”
she laughs again, “I swear you wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t there to save your ass”
“save me? bro, you made it worse”, you think about the past few days, “seriously, saying i’m mute? i haven’t spoken a word out loud on campus since then.”
“what was i supposed to do?!”, she turns around to you with a gasp.
“i don’t know! not tell him i was mute?!”
she drags out a sigh. “it’s not that deep.”
you scramble up from your laying position to fully look her way. “not that deep?! what if he hears me talking!”
“girl, when were you ever near sukuna? I mean, he didn’t even realize I lied to his face so what are the chances he’ll ever find out?”
you both know that the chance is too high for you keep attending this college.
you let out a deep sigh as you lay back down, “still thank you, i guess.”
“pfft— no problem, the look on his face was priceless”, she turns back around and resumes her typing.
you hum, already lost in thought again. should you be grateful in a way? you were face-to-face with sukuna after all. you couldn’t even look at him from afar before that encounter. shoko should’ve stepped in a minute later so you could’ve admired his face a little longer. and his arms. and his abs.
“he was really sexy”, you sigh out.
“i guess.”
you’re both silent for a minute.
“i wouldn’t have mind if he actually did beat me up—“
“i’m about to beat you up”, shoko immediately cuts you off, “you need to get laid”
“i know.”
“you know what”, she turns around again.
“hm?”, you turn your head her way.
“there’s this party—“
“no fucking way.”
“come on!”, she kneels upright, “you’re not even giving it a chance!”
“i was scared of parties before this whole thing with sukuna and being mute! how am i supposed to show up to a party now!?”
shoko thinks for a moment, “what are the chances sukuna will be at the party—”
“you know damn well he’ll be there.”
“yeah, I know. worth a try though i guess”, she mumbles out the last part, turning to her laptop again.
“partying means socializing, i just want to get laid”, you whine.
“well i’m sorry but you have to kinda socialize for that.”
“ughhh—“, you drag your hands down your face. at some point you will have to step out of your comfort zone, no? but the risk of seeing sukuna is way too high—
“i could ask suguru if sukunas gonna be there", shoko suggests.
“i doubt that he'd miss a party. and i don't want to go anyway.”
“come onnn!”, shoko pleads, “we can leave the second you feel awkward!”
“so like, two seconds after entering the party?”
“look—”, shoko starts, “i’ll ask suguru if sukunas gonna be there and if he's not I'll personally help you get laid with a man you can't resist— and hopefully can put up with you—”
you think about it for a second. comparing the anxiety you feel about seeing sukuna to the anxiety you feel about attending a party makes the party seem harmless—
“fine.”
“WHAT”, shoko shouts, “i did not expect you to say yes—”
"don't push it.”
“yes ma’am.”
.
how did you end up here? the music can be heard two streets away and you feel the bass in your body as you step onto the patio. you should’ve stood your ground and said no. you don't even remember at what point shoko convinced you—
“I’ll personally help you get laid with a man you can't resist— and hopefully a man that can put up with you—”
yeah that part probably did it.
now you're at some frat party— in a top too tight and a skirt too short— already on high alert for a certain someone with pink hair and tattoos all over his well-sculpted body.
“you’re sure sukuna wont be here?”, you ask shoko for the thousandth time since she showed you the messages between her and suguru, confirming that he really did say that sukuna won’t be here.
“yes. im sure”, shoko answers with a confident smile, “you just focus on waking up in a stranger's bed tomorrow.”
you also should’ve downed way more drinks during pre-gaming. you’re already dissociating as shoko talks with the guy at the door. he seems to know her and lets you both in.
the air is thick with sweat and cheap cologne. the lights are throbbing and the bass of some overplayed song rattles the floorboards.
shoko shoves her way through the crowd of sweaty and drunk people with you arm-in-arm. she quickly finds the way to the kitchen, dragging you along. the floor is uncomfortably sticky. one step into the kitchen and you throw yourself onto the drinks, desperate to calm your nerves, still angry at the wannabe confident version of yourself that promised shoko to accompany her to this party and not chicken-out at the last second.
“the drinks are not running away”, you barely register shokos voice as you down your first shot. she looks at you with a grimace.
“the drinks maybe won’t but i sure am about to”, your nerves are still eating you alive as you contemplate downing another drink or shot, staring holes into the counter. shoko lets out a dragged-out groan and yanks you away from the kitchen.
“I really could have used another drink”, you complain.
“you’ll pass out before we find you a man”, she reasons.
shoko still has a half-full red solo cup in her hand as she paves the way for you. you don't even know where you're going.
she stops at a wall on the edge of the makeshift dance floor, carved out of the living room, granting you the mercy of observing the dancing bodies instead of participating.
“what now?”, you ask her.
“I have a plan”, she answers without looking at you, still watching the scene.
“you do?”
“no”, she's still scanning the crowd.
you sigh and also shift your gaze to the scene.
“i feel like your best shot is dancing”, shoko turns her head to you, “because the second you open your mouth— the party will be over. no offense”
“none taken and absolutely not.”
“you literally give me nothing to work with here.”
“you were the one who suggested this whole thing”, you say with a shrug.
someone walks by with cups in their hand, and you take one— half hoping they don’t notice and half not caring because they were out of sight before they even noticed and you were concealed by the many people around you as they frantically turned around.
what are you even supposed to do? dance? you shudder at the thought and bring the cup to your lips, taking the first sip—
you recoil in disgust but still force yourself to drink it— desperate to ease the anxiety churning inside of you.
wow. that’s some tasteless ass drink for sure.
and only after you drank the whole thing with big gulps— ignoring the fact that stealing and drinking a random drink could end pretty badly— you realize that it was tap water instead of some tasteless drink like you originally thought.
“what the fuck— who drinks water at a damn party—”
shoko turns to look at you, “from where did you even get that—”
“soo—”, you drag out, “what do you usually do?”
now that you're here— inches away from the college life everyone seems to dream about— you can't seem to understand the excitement about these parties.
“no idea”, shoko answers.
“how—”
“i usually arrive, get high and then wake up”, shoko lists.
someone calls out shokos name before you can even answer— how loud did that person shout if you heard it through the music?
“what’s up?”, she answers.
it’s satoru— with sunglasses on— inside? at a party? at night?
you sometimes forget that shoko is friends with satoru— and suguru. two popular frat boys that are the embodiment of your fear of men. one gaze into their eyes and you will go home with a guaranteed heartbreak. so you don’t look—
“hey! you brought your shy friend with you!”
you look at him for a second, then look away again. wait— he meant you. you look back again. are you supposed to greet him?
you're just looking between them with a confused look but satoru is quick to change the subject— “we’re gonna play seven minutes in heaven. y’all down to join?”
you immediately look to shoko with desperate eyes. hopefully she sees that you’re definitely not down—
“yeah, sure.”
oh fuck her.
satoru starts guiding you both to where the game is played— rambling about something that you don’t care to listen to because you’re about to crash out.
“what the fuck! i don’t want to play!”, you shake shoko and whisper-shout to her.
“well you’re welcome to sit on the sideline and watch but i’m not leaving till that bottle lands on you at least once”, she tells you.
“what?! why me!? didn’t you agree because you wanted to play?”, you’re still shaking her.
“fuck no. i hate that game”, she deadpannes, “look at me, im such a good friend”, she exclaims with a proud smile.
“how is that being a good friend?!”, you hiss, “making me play a game i don't want to, knowing i can’t talk myself out of it?!”
“but think about it— it’s the perfect chance for you! you’re finally gonna be alone with a man! for seven whole minutes!”, she has a smile on her face that could light up the whole party. you never saw her so happy.
“you’ll have to fight me if you want me to step one foot into that closet.”
“i will fight you”, she sing-songs.
you need another drink. the water you accidentally drank earlier somehow wiped out every last trace of buzz.
“hey!”, shoko shouts at you as you snatch her cup and chug it empty with big gulps.
satoru leads you to the basement and you almost walk into him when he stops suddenly—
looks like you’ve arrived.
it seems like the game is already in full swing. you can hear cheering and assume that someone probably steeped outside the closet right now.
you can still hear the music faintly but you don’t have to raise your voice anymore. everyone's sitting in a circle on the ground with a bottle in the middle— waiting to be spinned again. the cheering calms down and the pair that stepped out takes their place in the circle again. finally you won’t have to shout over the music—
your heart literally drops to your ass.
well fuck your life. you won’t be able to say anything because you’ve just met eyes with the current bane of your existence.
you felt the blood drain from your face as dread settled over you.
pink hair— tattoos— hot as fuck— scowl on his face when he registers who you are— yeah, that’s sukuna.
what the fuck?
you look away. maybe your brain is playing tricks on you. was that really water you drank earlier?
a pit of dread opens in your stomach. twisting and churning as you're trying to make sense of the situation.
why is he here?
you tug on shokos arm. she looks at your trembling hand that's tugging her frantically— then at your face that looks like you've just seen a ghost— and finally follows your line of sight and stops immediately in her tracks. now you’re both standing there like idiots.
satoru sits down beside suguru— now both looking at you— everyone's looking at you— you feel his eyes staring daggers onto your figure.
“y’all wanna play while standing?”, suguru asks sarcastically.
shoko chuckles nervously and pulls you with her to sit down.
shoko is sitting between you and satoru. she spots satorus drink— full and untouched. he must’ve grabbed it before he asked you both to join—
“hey”, she turns to satoru, “you drinking that?”
“yeah—”, she doesn't let him finish his answer and snatches the cup from his unsuspecting hands— then she immediately passes it along to you.
you don't look at her as you grip the cup like a life line.
satoru stands up with a dramatic pout, grumbling about something you both couldn't care less about.
can you even take a swig when your hands are shaking? taking the risk you close your eyes and swiftly finish the drink. you swallow, desperate to loosen up. your vision blurs for a second, but it's not enough to ease the anxiety in you which is caused by the man you did not want to be in the same room with tonight.
you really want to thank shoko for the drink— but you don’t let out a sound, already knowing who’s sitting across from you. but then you remember the reason you even considered coming here— shoko literally told you he wouldn't be here!
you’re gonna kill shoko after surviving this— well, hopefully you will survive this.
you force yourself to sit still— with your sweaty hands in your lap— as you look at the bottle in the middle of the circle and try to drown out everything else.
as you’re fighting for your life, sukuna watches you.
you got under his skin like no one else before— that arrogant look you have that he wants to wipe off your face— acting like he's not worth a second of your day. you walked away while others would squirm in place— not daring to act before he does. even after finding out you're mute— he still can't believe you didn't show an ounce of remorse.
sukuna is sitting beside toji who spins the bottle first, marking him next in line. the bottle spins and the first pair steps into the closet. sukuna couldn't care less about who the bottle landed on. he’s not even sure why he agreed on playing. he was bored, but this seems even more boring.
the seven minutes start and sukuna is debating on ditching the game altogether when he finds himself looking at you again. he seems to run into you— or well, you into him— a lot in the past few days. he hadn’t seen you before. he doesn't even know your name— he knows shoko, she hangs around satoru and suguru a lot. do they know you too? they must've mentioned a mute girl if they did know you. being mute is a rare occurrence so it must've been brought up, no? how come he didn't hear about it? maybe he just didn't pay attention to the information. how come he hasn't seen you before? you're probably not a party person. he guesses you're closed off since you have little to no way of communicating with others. there’s no way he wouldn't have noticed you. you’re pretty— even if he only saw you in passing he'd at least remember seeing you around before.
he finds himself irritated at the fact that you don't acknowledge his presence. you barely had a second of eye contact that you broke almost instantly— already seeming to be disinterested in him despite running into him. twice. you didn't spare him a second glance after that brief second.
he takes a good look at you, eyes narrowing. you're still wearing that arrogant look on your face— dripping with disdain against everything it seems— that he can't seem to forget. he thought about it more than he'd like to admit. you're perched on your knees— hands resting on your lap— skirt short enough to show a dangerous amount of skin. his eyes glance at your plush thighs. you’re swaying slightly and your cheeks are a little flushed— almost impossible to notice. that drink shoko stole from satoru for you was probably not your first drink of the night. she shows you something on her phone then— you grab it from her after a few seconds and type something in— looks like she probably typed something for you to read. it’d make sense if you were the one typing, since you're mute and obviously cant talk. but couldn’t she have just said it instead of typing it on her phone? maybe it's a secret— why is he thinking about it? who cares about what you’re typing about. he removes his eyes from you and focuses on the conversation around him— too lazy to join himself.
you type a reply to shokos text. ‘maybe we should reveal that you're not mute?’
‘i’m gonna kill you’
shoko reads your reply and offers you a timid smile— only to be met with a death glare from you— straight from a ‘based on true events’ horror movie— that proves you meant what you typed into her phone. a chill runs down her spine.
she types another thing.
‘how r u gon play without talking?’
that’s when the timer goes off. satoru walks back in with a shot in his hand, taking on the job of opening the closet door— since he's already up— and chases toji and some other girl out of the closet.
you watch toji take his seat beside sukuna— not daring to look an inch into that direction— as sukuna grabs the bottle to spin next.
wait.
its sukunas turn.
sukuna is spinning the bottle.
you're sitting in the same circle.
you're playing seven minutes in heaven.
he is too.
are you just now registering that you're not only in the same room as him— but also participating in the same game?
how high are the chances that it'll actually land on you?
your face pales and your eyes bulge as you realize this might've been the worst seat possible.
based on the luck you've had with sukuna your chances are slim to none—
shoko seems to be thinking the exact same thing— realizing a second too late that you should've ditched the game as soon as you stepped foot into this room—
the bottle lands.
on you.
what the fuck kind of luck is this? where are the cameras? this has to be a joke—
“tch”, sukuna stands up, “of course”, he says under his breath.
you can't back out now— what would people think? that you're a coward? a coward that cant talk?
“the fuck—”, satoru gasps as shoko snatches his shot and passes it to you again.
she squeezes your one hand as you down the shot with the other.
then you slowly stand up and start walking toward your grave.
shoko watches you— she knows you'll never be the same after this and mentally prepares herself for her own funeral as well.
sukuna is already in the closet when you enter and close the door behind you.
the space is small— but large enough that you're not pressed against each other— which could be considered as a lot of space with how big sukuna is.
you stop right in front of him as he's looming over you— signature scowl on his face. he looks like he's had already enough of you.
the alcohol has calmed you a tiny bit— but with the amount of anxiety still raging inside of you, you're surprised at yourself for the next thought that crosses your mind.
“let’s get this over with—”
sukuna is interrupted by your lips crashing into his— your fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt, dragging him down to you. your lips press against his softly at first— clumsy and inexperienced.
he freezes for a split second— his brain processes what's happening. he melts into it as his surprise quickly turns into raw hunger. he cups your face with one hand, the other gripping your waist to pull you flush against him. he kisses you back twice as hard. his hand on your cheek slides to the back of your head, holding onto your hair and keeping you close as he deepens the kiss while angling your head. your hands move to clutch on his shoulders. nails digging into the broad muscle.
the intensity of the kiss gave you no time to address the dull pain in your back as sukuna shoves you onto the wall, never separating from you in the process. he swallows the silent gasp he pulls out of you with a low groan and his tongue invades your mouth like he owns it. your hands slide to the back of his neck. his tongue glides against yours as you're holding back the sounds that are trying to escape you. he grips your waist tighter. your cheeks turn a deeper red and your heart starts to thud quicker. heat coils in your stomach and a wave of arousal starts to collect between your thighs
the lack of oxygen starts to make you dizzy. you detach yourself from him to breathe in and he immediately chases your lips again. kissing you once again with the same passion and hunger as before. his breath shudders when you lean further into him, eagerly trying to match his rhythm. his hand on your waist moves to the small of your back, pressing you even closer against him— as if he can't stand the thought that there's still space between you. your fingers slide into his hair and when you tug— he lets out a quiet moan into your mouth that makes your breath hitch— the sound sends another wave of hot arousal between your legs. he’s consuming you whole.
your back arches as you tug on his hair once more and he lets out a grunt deep from his throat. his hands start to roam on your body, trying to memorize your body by touch. your mind is growing hazy, every thought is being consumed by sukuna.
his calloused palms move further down to grab your ass, squeezing, kneading the flesh. he pushes you further into the wall— seemingly desperate to be as close as possible to you— you're both panting into each others mouth as you kiss. your jaw slacks and you open your mouth wider for him. the kiss turns messier— teeth grazing— sucking on each others tongue.
sukuna starts softly bucking into you— grinding against you. you’re fighting against your inner demons to stay quiet while sukuna isn't afraid to let out grunts and groans. your nails rake through his pink hair.
sukunas one hand hooks your leg around his waist, stroking the flesh while the other stays put on your ass, grinding you against him and making you meet his slow but eager movements. you rock your hips instinctively— hands still in his hair— tugging at his locks once more.
sukuna pulls back for a second, a string of saliva connecting your mouths together. he doesn’t stray far— just enough to take you in for a moment. he looks at your kiss-bitten lips, eyes moving to the heavy rise and fall of your chest and his head falls into the crook of your neck. he’s panting heavily while he's breathing you in. he lets out a low curse— that you couldn't catch because you're trying to catch your breath while remaining silent— and latches onto your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses there as well. his grip on you tightens even more as you start rocking against him faster. his breath is hot against your skin. you bite down, clenching your teeth, not letting a single whine or moan slip out while he's sucking on the skin on your neck. his mouth starts to wander— leaving wet kisses on every surface of skin he can get his mouth on. mouthing at your pulse, you feel your composure almost snap so you pull on his hair to move his mouth back against yours. the shift is instant— rougher, hurried, uncoordinated. it’s like he lost control but can't stop. you try to match his movements— but your lack of experience and his loss of restraint makes the kiss sloppy. not that you're complaining. even if you were— the amount of slick that has gathered in your panties would probably beg to differ—
knock.
shoko nearly pulls the door off its hinges before gojo can knock a second time.
you immediately detach yourself from sukuna and bolt through the closet door— not sparing another glance to sukuna— and leave the room.
shoko is close behind you— trying to catch up with a look of panic that almost matches your own.
your heart is racing.
“what happened in there—”, shoko asks, but your own thoughts are scrambled.
your throat tightens as you try to breathe in— only managing short gasps.
you climb up the stairs hurriedly, desperate for a breath of fresh air— desperate to leave this party altogether.
you claw your way through the crowd— not caring who you shove out the way or who you bump into.
shoko is in tow as you reach the door to freedom.
meanwhile, you left sukuna frozen in place— with his heart hammering in his chest and a raging problem in his pants. with your scent faint in his nostrils— enough to haunt him but too faint to fill his lungs. with the taste of your lipgloss still on his lips— which he licks off unconsciously and craves to taste more of.
he's glaring holes into the wall— where you were in his reach seconds ago— aching to breathe you in and taste you once again. his hands are twitching without your soft skin to hold. a shiver runs down his spine— the room cold without your warmth radiating toward him. when all of a sudden, he hears this agitating grating voice—
“you were pretty vocal in there—”
“shut the fuck up gojo.”
outside, you haven't talked a single word to shoko yet. you're walking arm-in-arm through the streets. shoko understands that you need time to gather your thoughts and find your words.
the fresh air has calmed you down but the image of sukuna fills your vision every time you blink. you still feel his lips against your own and a faint tingling on your neck where he kissed you mere moments ago. you can still hear his groans which will probably haunt you every time there's nothing to fill the silence with— like right now. your body shudders as the cold of the night bites at you— or is it the absence of his warm body against yours, the absence of his hands on your skin that makes you tremble?
“hey”, shoko snugs closer to you, “you okay?”
she's looking at you as your eyes stay on the path.
“i’m sorry for saying he wouldn't be there—”
“i kissed him.”
shokos mouth falls open— a scream threatening to escape from her.
instead, she's silent for a moment before going into a fit of laughter.
you turn your head to her, one eyebrow raised. the fuck is she laughing for? especially for putting you into that position in the first place!—
shokos laughter dies as she registers the serious look on your face, “..for real?”
“for real.”
you both fix your gaze to the path ahead, both trying to make sense of what just happened.
shoko breaks the short silence, “i think i might have alcohol poisoning”
“you didn't even drink that much—”
“there’s no way in hell YOU kissed SUKUNA!”
“are you calling me a coward to my face right now—”
“you’ve been avoiding him like the plague!”
“i think i might have alcohol poisoning”, you mumble as you drag your hands down your face— ruining your makeup in the process.
shoko stops in her tracks all of a sudden, “wait, wait, wait—”, she closes her eyes for a moment, “so you kissed—”
“made out.”
“made out?—”, shoko asks, flabbergasted.
“made out”, you double down.
“so you made out with sukuna for seven whole minutes and i did not hallucinate the moaning?”
“y’all heard that?—”
“ANSWER. the question.”
you breathe in.
shoko looks at you, eyes still wide.
breathe out.
“...yeah that's about it—”
“WHAT.”
“i also might have or might have not dry humped him—”
“WHAT.”
₍^. .^₎Ⳋ [ a/n ] hope you liked it !! second chapter will be out in a week hopefully... this is my second work so i hope i didnt disappoint too much (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) dont be shy to comment/reblog it really motivates me to keep writing !! <333
had to reedit this bc there was no fucking spacing for whatever reason..
sukuna couldn't get you out of his mind the whole weekend after the party— how you acted so disinterested in him before and then had the audacity to kiss him still baffled him. not that he was complaining— the way you pulled him into the kiss is replaying in his mind on loop. those seven minutes weren't enough to feed the hunger you've awakened in him.
these three nights were a different kind of hell. his mind refuses to shut up— flashing images of your kiss-bitten lips— the feeling of those same lips against his— your hands on his neck— your fingers trailing and tugging on his hair— all he could think about was you, you, you.
sukuna isn't a man who gets sentimental over a person. he's not someone who yearns for one's presence and he's definitely not a person who wishes something from a specific person when there are many others who can fill that same position— like the kiss you've shared. a single make-out session that he could probably get from every girl on campus is messing with his head— why can't he get you out of his mind? is it because you caught him by surprise? it wasn't the first time that the girl made the first move on him— he wasn't short on women who throw themselves at him. but that was the first time he didn't expect it. that must be it. he’s simply still under shock. no way you managed to crawl into his heart or whatever with a single initiated kiss.
that conclusion bites him in the ass almost instantly when he spots you across campus— his eyes are drawn to your figure before his mind can even comprehend that it's indeed you. well this certainly is a nice way to start his monday morning. it’s like in those cheesy romance movies— every other noise seems to be drawn out by his brain as he watches you. it’s almost like you're walking in slow motion. the sunlight hits your face, illuminating you, wrapping you in a gold hue. even though you linger in the back of his mind, your features are blurred and in need of a refreshment. he can’t help but wonder what part of you he might have forgotten or missed. the soft wind blows through your hair— he can't tear his eyes away.
“yo”, he hears toji from beside him, “you good?”
sukuna looks at him for a second and just grunts as an answer— already searching for you again. the single heartbeat he spent looking elsewhere felt wrong— he catches you just as you enter your department building.
you slip inside, leaving his line of sight, and sukuna feels something in him drop— sharp and quiet. as if you've purposefully left him behind, wanting. as if he's been denied something he didn't remember asking for.
his jaw clenches.
he tears his eyes away from the empty space a moment too late.
letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, sukuna starts walking toward his class, leaving toji behind without a goodbye.
unaware that you've been already spotted by the man of your nightmares— and your dreams— you're still walking through the halls with a grip on your bag too tight and an expression that could scare away anyone except the man it's supposed to scare off.
your jaw is tightly clenched— afraid that a single vocal exhale could uncover the lie that didn't even come from you.
your weekend wasn't any better. you feel like you're on the walk of shame and every single one of your fantasies is being projected on a wall you cannot see. every peek that someone throws your way feels like they know you went up to sukuna and kissed him— then went home and thought about him day and night with your hands between your thighs— and that you're now actively hiding from him because he still thinks you're mute.
oh god. they're all looking at you with disgusted faces. some people are whispering amongst themselves. is it about you? do they know? are they making fun of you?
everyone knows you're not mute and they will tell sukuna and he’ll kill you for lying to him and having the audacity to hump him—
no. you can survive this.
sukuna has probably already forgotten about that whole ordeal— right? there's no way that he'd even rethink those seven minutes— yeah. even if you'll probably get off on that memory for a little longer than you'd like to admit— he won't spare you a glance when you walk past him.
you've heard about him. who hasn’t? his reputation isn't built on lies and mere gossip— it's built on warnings. built on the fact that he doesn't hesitate in putting people in their place, which is underneath his feet.
never the same girl twice— never staying longer than a night. sweet talking till he gets what he wants— never talking again after that. girls who chase him for a single night— girls who are probably better than you— experienced, outgoing, able to hold a conversation— girls who might have a chance. those seven minutes were your only chance at feeling him against your lips and you grasped that chance— you shouldn't get your hopes up for something more.
that doesn't mean you'll stop avoiding him though—
.
the following days, sukuna finds himself subconsciously taking the long route to class— or to the library— anywhere that just happens to pass through your department building. more often than he’d ever care to admit.
he tells himself it’s nothing.
it’s not intentional.
he was just in need of... a change in scenery.
just a different route. different hallways. different noise. different people.
but somehow his feet keep making the same turn, slowing near the same entrance he saw you last, lingering a second too long. his eyes drift before he can stop them, scanning without meaning to— at least, that’s what he insists.
he isn’t looking for you.
he’s just… observant.
ever since the night in that damn closet, something feels slightly unresolved— and sukuna tells himself that he doesn’t like unfinished business.
it’s coincidence that his chest tightens for half a second whenever he thinks he might see you rounding the corner.
so when he finally catches a glimpse of you through the thick crowd of people, he ignores the frantic beating of his heart, and he tells himself he only looked for a second longer to confirm that the disruption you have caused is insignificant. that whatever unfinished business he thought about has finally settled.
but it hasn’t.
and it’s irritating that he wants more than a glimpse of you.
.
your streak of avoiding sukuna is broken by shoko who begged you to join her in the library. you were already comfortable in your dorm and celebrating another victory of managing to stay out of sukunas way. at least you caught on the moral of the day, never celebrate too early.
nearing the library, you were met with the devastating realization that this is the worst possible time of walking around campus, which was swarmed with people. a mix of tired individuals heading home while others are rushing to their evening classes. people were streaming by in both directions. is it too late to turn around? you really don't want to risk running into sukuna— but turning around now would be too embarrassing. you can't stop and act like someone is calling so you can “correct” your route either because that would attract unnecessary attention toward you—
whatever. you try convincing yourself that you're overreacting. what are the chances that you'll run into him? you've survived a whole week! there's no way you'll lose now. just— go along, deep breaths. It's okay.
it was indeed not okay and you had every right to overreact because the next group that turned the corner had you contemplating your friendship with shoko. why the actual fuck did she say you were fucking mute back then— why the fuck did you not only fucking agree on going to that fucking party but also fucking agree on playing that fucking game— and why the fuck did you agree on fucking meeting her at the fucking library—
you didn't have the chance to overuse the word fuck anymore because— while your brain was running overtime with your monolog you were also doing your best at looking anywhere but into sukunas direction— your monolog was interrupted by the excessive amount of laughter from the group which your ears somehow managed to pick up over everything else. and although you had already convinced yourself that the colors and ridges of your shoes were the most fascinating sight of today, your head still perked up and turned to the direction of laughter.
locking eyes with sukuna crumbled your conviction about your footwear since there couldn't be a more fascinating sight than his lickable face. no wonder you humped him like a bitch in heat because let's be real. who wouldn't? you would probably do it again. ugh, how you wished to be your past self right now. kissing his sweet lips again— hearing his orgasm-worth grunts again— feeling his muscular body against yours— his soft hair grazing through your fingers—
your fantasies shatter as sukuna throws you a smirk and joins in the laughter.
you take it back. fuck your past self. why the fuck would you hump him? scratch that, why did you go to that fucking party anyway—
is the laughter about you?
your head snaps back to the ground and you pick up your pace.
are they making fun of you?
you shove your hands into your pockets as the slight air of passing by sukuna hits your face.
you try exhaling once they’re behind you, but you're worried it might be too vocal and he'll hear you.
the sounds of their snickering doesn't leave your ears, even long after you passed by and they were out of earshot.
meanwhile, as sukuna locked eyes with you, it was just as unexpected. it happened when he wasn't actively searching for you in the crowd for once.
he had just left the library with gojo in tow, meeting toji and suguru at the exit. gojo nagged them to hang out and despite sukunas need of some revising for his upcoming exams he was reluctant to agree, sick of gojos never-ending whining. who is he kidding? the revising could wait, his mental well-being— which is in need of a break from socializing, on top of desperately needing a break from gojo— cannot. what does he have to do for one second of peace and quiet? why does he want to hang out anyway? it’s friday for fucks sake! they’ll see each other tonight at some party anyway!
he joins the group with a scowl that confirms he'd rather be anywhere but here. they’re already too loud. gojo jumps into conversation the second he meets eyes with the two other men and sukuna can feel his brain cells evaporating. sugurus laughing like a donkey at gojos unfunny jokes and sukuna prepares himself for his already present headache to intensify.
the men start walking, talking and laughing about who-knows-what since sukuna has already tuned them out.
during sukunas inner calculations of how many brain cells he’ll have left by the end of the day, he feels his heart drop and immediately loses his train of thought— because he just met eyes with you.
his mind needed a couple seconds to catch up and actually accept that he’s seeing you right now. despite never actually peeling his eyes off you, it felt as if he not only needed a second look but also a triple check that he's not hallucinating in the moment. he was forcing his mind to tune out gojos shrieking seconds ago and now he finds himself hearing nothing but his hastening heartbeat and seeing nothing but your face that he was longing to be close to again. you’re only passing by each other, but sukuna doesn't know when he'll be in close proximity to you again. he could reach out right now and feel your soft skin once more.
he's not only seeing you but you're looking right back at him. the shock he felt was quickly mixed with delight. he doesn’t realize that the delight came mainly by you being there— instead he reasons with himself that he's happy because you're noticing him as well for once.
while everyone orbits around sukuna and notices him from multiple blocks away— even with his excessive amount of looking around for you he never got the chance to lock eyes with you. why does he find himself desperate for your acknowledgement? why is he trying to figure out why you have that look of arrogance on your face? not an ounce of fear— not an ounce of adoration either. for you, he's just another face among the crowd, for him— you're the face he searches for in the crowd.
he tells himself it's a normal reaction. it's reasonable why he's interested. he’s simply confused why you're looking at him with indifference. of course there are enough people out there who avoid sukuna, try to stay out of his way. looks of disgust or envy toward him isn't anything new. people that stay out of his way still acknowledge him. they know who he is. they stay out of his way because they want to stay out of trouble. they’re scared, nervous. but you— you simply don't care. it’s simply that fuck ass obnoxious but pretty face of yours that he cannot seem to shake off. such a shame too, pretty face that just seems to piss him off for no significant reason.
pretty face that pisses him off yet he can’t stop starring.
pisses him off yet he won’t admit how many times he swept his eyes across the hallways. so yeah— enough times that this encounter was certainly unexpected for him.
however, the constant, lingering anticipation of setting his eyes on you again— paired with the subconscious scanning of his surroundings— makes him wonder if it truly was unexpected, or if your appearance itself made his breath hitch.
fuck, he’s starring. you probably think he's a weirdo—
sukuna forces himself to look away and quickly starts laughing with the other men, despite having no idea what they're laughing about, hoping you don't think he’s creepy. he can’t have you avoid him on top of dismissing him. he wants you to acknowledge him— to feel his presence just as much as he searches for yours.
his head still turns slightly when you're getting closer. his nose tries picking up on your perfume— begging for a whiff of your scent. the scent that he has memorized yet cant remember. he has to hold himself back from reaching out. he feels a sudden cold settling over him and needs your skin to warm him up. he wants to call out to you. stop you. make you look at him. yet he realizes that he still doesn't know your name.
despite his efforts of holding back, sukuna is oblivious to his hand closest to you extending and his fingers slightly stretching out— right as you're brushing by and sending a flicker of wind across his skin.
.
another friday night, another party. though sukuna cannot seem to enjoy himself.
the party feels louder than usual. the stench of cheap cologne and weed seems to be stronger than typically. the lights are causing an ache behind his eyes and whoever gave him this drink can prepare themselves for a taste of his fist because it tastes like shit. warm— too sweet— and it does not fulfill it’s purpose because he does not feel the effect that usually makes him enjoy these parties— enjoy socializing— enjoy the music— the scenery— the surrounding people who are desperate for his approval.
it's been exactly a week since he last tasted your lips.
he keeps scanning the crowd subconsciously— hoping for another glimpse of you— even though part of him knows he won't be seeing you tonight.
he's been desperate to blow off some steam— and yet the only way he seems to tolerate the attempts of conversations from girls is when they resemble you— when he can imagine them to be you. but as creative as his brain has been lately— no one fills the longing of actually having you in front of him again.
wait.
he does not long for having you in front of him again.
damn. these tasteless ass drinks are really messing with his brain.
and this girl sitting beside him on the couch can't take the damn hint. she’s almost clawing her way onto his lap while having a one-sided conversation. she could be talking to a brick wall and have the same outcome. sukuna doesn't spare her a single answer. in fact, he doesn't even know what she's talking about— or who she even is. she’s moving closer with every passing second and sukuna doesn't have space to back away anymore. he wants to tell her to piss off but doesn't bother to. it's easier to ignore her than find the energy to stand up and walk away.
she’s getting closer by the second. her sticky fingers are touching him, feeling him up. her skin feels wrong against his own and he feels himself internally recoiling. her touch is making his skin crawl and the lingering feeling it leaves behind on his skin feels revolting.
her perfume is way too strong and overwhelming him more than he already is— suffocating him— but if he concentrates hard enough, closing his eyes, he can make out the top notes of yours. the scent of you that he barely remembers. it’s hidden within, a faint whisper against his senses. a dull memory that manages to soothe him. a trace of you he wants to follow.
her high-pitched laugh pierces through his imagination— stabbing his ears and tearing through the short-lived dream he had found himself in.
what is she even squealing about?
he couldn’t care less.
she ripped through the one thing that made him tolerate her longer than he should. her perfume is overpowering his senses again. the lights are too strong. the music is too loud.
he needs air.
her cries of desperation are nothing more than background noise— swallowed by the chaos around him— as he flees away. he maneuvers his way through the crowd— which parts itself for him— shoving away anyone who had the misfortune of not sensing his presence in time.
he immediately fills his lungs with fresh air once he steps outside. his ears ring— trying to get used to the now quieter environment, with only dull sounds of the havoc inside— as he sits on the concrete step.
sukuna is sitting with his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands— thumbs slowly rubbing into his temples— trying to relieve the headache that has grown throughout the night.
lost in the moment, he doesn't detect the presence behind him lurking closer till they're sat beside him.
“you’re quiet today”, he remarks.
sukuna peeks through his fingers and shifts his gaze to the person, briefly scanning his features and recognizing toji.
he grunts in response, not finding the energy to actually say something.
“you good?”, toji questions.
“yeah”, sukuna replies, “s’just…”, he trails off for a moment, his attention drifting to the lawn in front of him, “too loud.”
toji scoffs at that, “loud? dude, you're the source of that normally.”
sukuna doesn't reply to that. no— he can’t reply to that. what is he supposed to say? he questions as well why he can't find comfort in a place he usually strives in. in a place where he's supposed to strive in— where it's expected from him.
it’s silent for a beat, both men staring into the lawn. the breeze of the night slightly making their skin prickle.
“you’ve been off for a while”, toji interrupts the silence.
sukuna doesn't respond again.
“is it that girl?”, toji aks.
sukuna turns his way at that, his raised eyebrow seeking toji to elaborate.
“from the closet”, toji continues, “i’ve seen you eyeing her on campus.”
is it you? the girl whose name he doesn't even know yet?
“you should just talk to her if she got you daydreaming and shit”, toji advises with a grin.
“shut up”, sukuna groans in response and nudges his shoulder.
toji chuckles, “you didn't deny it.”
“fuck off”, sukuna grunts, avoiding tojis gaze as he feels heat crawling up his neck.
.
you feel a lot more composed than last week.
well, a part from that one time you almost lost your footing and nearly ate the concrete of the pavement when you saw sukuna on the way to the library. but you calmed down— you think. they were already laughing when they rounded the corner so there's no way the cause was actually you— at least that's what you've been telling yourself.
you stroll your way through campus— mentally preparing yourself for another week after the short-lived weekend— trying to enjoy the morning, though you can't help but wish that you could've slept in and skip the morning altogether.
you haven't been keeping track of when your last encounter with sukuna was. which is a little surprising since that's all you're stressing yourself about— seeing him again. you haven't seen him around campus after the library incident and you don't plan on doing so. your guard is still up, but your shoulders aren't as tense anymore— your hands can rest after clenching them for too long— and the people around you can relax because your expression resembles a human being again.
you stop in front of the class shoko is currently in— planning on having a quick bite with her on your shared break. she texted you a few minutes ago that her lecture is nearing its end.
as you wait for her, you can't help but let out a low, relieved sigh. it feels like you can finally breathe again.
you've finally accepted that the dream you clung to all week— that there would be more after that kiss with sukuna— was never meant to come true.
it’s funny really. while you were doing everything in your power to avoid him— and succeeding at that— you’ve been secretly wishing that it meant more to him. the way it did to you. you hoped that he couldn’t forget that night. hoped he was replaying it in his head the same way you were.
just because you were hoping for more doesn't mean you'll initiate anything ever again though…
or stop avoiding him…
just the thought of seeing him again gives you goosebumps.
what if he'd point at you and laugh… and then everybody in proximity joins and you'd be forced to flee the building because everybody is pointing and laughing…
maybe you should start searching for an apartment? preferably somewhere far away where you can start a new life with a new identity.
no. don’t be dramatic. It's not that deep.
he probably forgot about it already.
even if you'd fail at avoiding him he'd probably not even recognize you! that single eye contact from last week doesn't mean he recognized you! or remembered you shamelessly throwing yourself at him!
who even are you? just another body amongst all the others. no one special. no one remarkable. and definitely not someone worth remembering.
“hey.”
so about that apartment— and starting a new life— and the new identity—
were you going crazy at last?
there's no way you just heard sukunas voice.
and it's even more impossible that it was directed at you.
you didn't sense the sudden shift in the atmosphere because you were already stressed as it is.
he's right behind you, isn't he?
you slowly turn around— trying to appear normal and unaffected. fuck it’s getting hot. and youre not even fully turned around yet! are you sweating? are you red?
meeting eyes with sukuna felt like looking at your own death— horrifying and inevitable. but somehow also irresistible.
every instinct screams at you to look away. his ruby-colored eyes are sharp enough to wound, but alluring— making the thought of bleeding out sound peaceful.
his gaze roots you into place, daring you to move a single muscle. is he here to cuss you out? to tell you he has been sick ever since that night because what you did was absolutely disgusting?
no. he doesnt look disgusted. he doesnt look delighted to be here yet you can't help but feel like his eyes are somewhat— gentle?
wait. he greeted you.
you were just about to open your mouth— already begging your voice not to crack— when you remembered that you're supposed to be mute.
what now? just— smile.
you try smiling at him. are you smiling too much? you're beaming aren't you. okay— just tone it down a little. smile just enough to be polite— to greet him back— not to seem like you're desperate for his presence.
sukuna feels his hands sweating at the absolute unamused look you're giving him. is he that weird for greeting you? you look like you've never seen him before. so is he the only one that cannot get that damn kiss out of his head? he doesn't even know what made him approach you. you were just standing there and his legs moved before he could decide— let alone ask himself if he should come up to you. now that he's in front of you, after days of wanting to be here, he has no idea what to say. maybe ask you what your fucking name is? he’s out here pissed off whenever you cross his mind— so basically like, all the damn time— yet he doesn’t even know your fucking name.
he’s not a fucking virgin. he can flirt with women. he can have a conversation with women. even if he has no idea what to say he could come up with something on the spot to swoon them— but that look you're giving him? still arrogant, still dismissing him, still looking like he's not worth a second of your day. fuck. what can he say in order for you to actually want to give him your time of the day?
did you do something wrong? are you smiling too much? are you standing weird? is something on your face? why the fuck is sukuna just standing there. you can't help but admire his figure. you want to feel him against you again. you want to bite his mouth watering biceps. is it snowing outside? because why else would he not wear his tight fitting, slutty shirts? shit, you're starring.
sukuna watches you eye him from head to toe and this might be the first time he feels an ounce of insecurity. he should’ve worn something tighter so he could’ve shown off how strong he is. flexing his arms and puffing out his chest should work for now.
wait. why is he trying to show off? he knows he's attractive and there's no way you think otherwise. even if he’s not your type, you’ll have to admit that he’s hot as fuck. shit. forget his fucking appearence he must look like a fucking moron just standing here after saying hey and nothing else—
your eyes flick back to his. why isn't he saying anything? was the greeting even aimed at you? fuck, did he mean someone behind you and you turned around like a dumbass—
sukuna feels his chest tighten when you turn around. are you really gonna walk away before he got the chance to ask for your name? his words are stuck in his throat and the door you're standing at opens right as he is about to stammer his question out. the creak of the door tenses his shoulders up and the stream of people leaving the lecture hall makes his ears ring. you give him one last look over your shoulder after spotting shoko, already walking toward her direction and dismissing him once again. you’re not even two steps away when you turn your attention away from him and toward your friend. the hands he was about to reach out for you with clenches on his sides. did he manage to catch your attention in the first place? or was he just an inconvenience— a fly you couldn't shake off?
sukuna exhales— his signature scowl back in place— stepping away before others think he's running after you— or worse— before he feeds your ego by resembling a fan who’s begging for an autograph. the ryomen sukuna trying to stop a chick from walking away from him— disregarding him completely— for her name? he scoffs at himself. right. its not like he was interested in you or anything. he was just… trying to put a name on a minor inconvenience that managed to develop into a major nuisance because… because… why is he so fucking pissed off? lack of knowledge. that’s it. who wouldnt be annoyed at someone— more than they’re worth being annoyed about— when they have no fucking idea who that person is?
shoko thinks she might've forgotten her pants in the lecture hall by the look on your face as you're approaching her. your eyes look like they're about to pop out and bounce around the hallway. after a quick scan of her legs, she silently questions what happened by lifting one eyebrow. an equally distraught face appears on her once she registers who's merely six inches behind you.
you speed walk toward her and grip her arm once she's in reach, turning her around immediately and pushing her forward.
“did he see you?”, shoko asks impatiently.
you don’t answer. terrified that sukuna might still be in earshot to hear you. after rounding three corners, shoko stops you from walking any further. she holds both your arms, hard, leaning into your face and asks you again, “did he see you?”
“worse”, you whisper.
“the fuck do you mean worse—”
“he said hey.”
a moment of silence passes.
shoko stands upright again. her grip on your arms loosens a bit, “are you sure you didn't imagine that—”
“yes i’m sure— the fuck!—”, you stop yourself from shouting, exhaling and looking around again. “yes”, you repeat yourself, “i’m sure.”
“huh”, shoko releases your arms completely. she furrows her eyebrows, tongue pressed into her cheek, deep in thought. shoko briefly leaves reality to have a conversation with her two brain cells. the lightbulb lights up and once her eyes focus on you again, she smirks.
“what are you grinning about?”, you have to hold yourself back from wiping that smile off her face because she's the whole reason this happened!
“he wants you so bad”, shoko drawled.
“that’s your conclusion after zoning out for ten minutes?— hey!”, she skips away before you can give her a piece of your mind, or well, piece of your fist against her face.
.
at this point, you're used to holding your tongue and examining every location you step into for pink hair. you’ve lost sense of time a long time ago and accepted that this is your new reality. the anxiety in your stomach is still present, but it's not moving all over your body anymore. it’s there, turning and stirring with every corner you turn. though it has become something you're accustomed to. your last crossing with sukuna has calmed your nerves. even if you're not sure what his deal was, it felt as if he's not as repulsed by you as you thought he'd be. you’re back at square one, avoiding him because you're supposed to be mute and not because you threw yourself at him. since he doesn't seem to be fazed by the latter, staying out of his way shouldn't be a problem, no?
wrong.
you really have to stop waiting for shoko and let her wait for you for once, because waiting by her lecture hall is not an option any more.
sukuna isn't someone who second-thinks his actions. most of his actions are either done deliberately— thought through and done with reason, so there's no reason to second-guess those— or he does them without thinking, because they're not worth pondering about. everything he does lands where he wants it to or he simply doesn't care where it does. as a result, he doesn't feel shame or guilt. he doesn’t lay in his bed, late at night, tired as fuck but unable to sleep because his brain is replaying his mistakes. well except… every night since your last interaction.
can he even call it an interaction when his throat was clogged with words he couldn't express? sukuna doesn't remember the last time he was just as embarrassed. he had his perks when no one had the guts to humiliate him. except his own conscience, that is.
he has to learn to control his legs, since they seem to wander before he decided to do so. because even though he can't blink without seeing your ice-cold gaze, he finds himself in front of you again. but this time, he's set on winning.
“hey”, sukuna calls out to you, copying your stance in front of you by leaning against the same wall. you notice him— the focus on your phone in your hands gone— momentarily staring at his shoes before your eyes slowly move their way up his body.
sukuna relished in being called a womanizer, but in front of you he might as well be a virgin, fearing— knowing that he'll stutter and fall over his words once he opens his mouth.
the moment you see a shadow creeping in front of you from your peripheral vision, you're on high alert. a heavy weight settles over you— pressing against your lungs— yet you opt to ignore it till the shadow announces its presence. sadly it doesn't get better, because even though your nerves were screaming at you, warning you that it's most likely the one person you don't want it to be, he opens his mouth. same hey from last time. you take your time in looking up, maybe he'll disappear before you meet his gaze, but no. he's still here. sukuna. again. in front of you. leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, biceps flexing so deliciously that you have to strain your eyes not to linger on them for too long. his scarlet eyes are already fixated on you, yet to your surprise, he’s wearing a cocky smirk this time.
sukuna will win your heart this time. not that he needs it. or wants it. you’re just as unamused as last time. maybe even more, he can't read you. but that doesn't matter, soon your heart will be on your sleeve and he'll see the adoration you have for him twinkle in your eyes.
you can't hold eye contact for the life of you. and it's especially hard when the person the pair of eyes belongs to has so many other qualities that you can stare at.
your eyes betray you by starting to trail the tattoos that decorate his handsome face. starting from his forehead, pausing momentarily at the glinting of his eyebrow piercing, they continue their path along his cheekbones, down to his chin. your number one regret in life will probably be that you never got the chance to trail his tattoos with your tongue. ending the journey at his chin, your eyes find a new point of focus. his lips. his lips which look so undeniable soft that you’d kill to taste them right now.
“we’ve been bumpin’ into each other a lot”, he smirked, concealing his nervousness. who starts a fucking conversation like that? you don't seem to recognize him, why did he say out loud that he noticed you? he's trying to be nonchalant, fighting his legs to not lose his footing by leaning against this wall. why is the ground so slippery? his toes try clawing at the floor to hold himself upright. he feels himself slowly sliding further away from the wall, soon he'll be eye level with you—
oh?
sukunas smirk grows. you're practically gaping at his mouth. so he's not alone in wanting to relive that kiss? he stands upright, abandoning the wall, edging closer to you without making it too obvious. his nostrils flare, hit by the faint scent of your perfume. your gaze stays fixated on his lips, which he wets instinctively. pumped with new-found confidence, sukuna continues talking, “so, what's your name?”
you were so captivated by the movement of his mouth, the brief appearance of his tongue, that you didn’t realize that you’re probably drooling, but also the fact that sukunas been talking and you haven’t heard a single word. you freeze. did he notice? he did, didn’t he? he probably thinks you're a creep. who stares at someone's mouth for so long? what should you do? maybe if you stare longer it’ll look like you zoned out? yeah, if you flick your eyes up too quick it’ll seem like you’re caught. just look a little longer and then you can slowly move your eyes back to his—
his composure falters when he notices the furrow in your brows and the evident concentration on your face. does he have something in his teeth? why are you so focused on his lips?—
oh.
the realization hits him like a train.
are you reading his lips? trying to decipher what he's saying?
his thought-process is interrupted by a slap on his shoulder, accompanied with a too cheerful and familiar voice. “what’s up, my man”, gojo practically shouts in his ears and drapes his arm over sukunas shoulder. sukunas instant reply is shoving him off, harsher than usual with the current situation. his attention slips away from you and directs itself to the other man for a moment. big mistake. “fuck off”, he growls. gojo is oblivious to the frustration raging through sukunas veins. he stares at gojo with narrowed eyes, his snarl exposing his sharp canines, but gojo still lingers with an unfazed stance. sukunas hate for the man grows with his seemingly impeccable timing. does he have to ruin the fucking moment? and right when he finally stood in front of you!—
sukuna turns to you again but is only met with the emptiness of the spot where you stood mere seconds ago.
you fled the scene once gojo made his appearance. you were unsure if you were supposed to wait for sukuna, so you decided that waiting there awkwardly— risking that sukuna may forget your presence entirely or find it amusing that you’re waiting for him— sounded scarier than bolting. so bolting you did.
.
later that day— as sukuna is laying on his bed, head resting on one arm, phone forgotten on his desk— he recounts the details of your encounter. while he's trying not to cringe at another failure of charming you, he starts to rummage through his memory to find more reasons to add to the possibility of you being deaf.
of course, there's the fact of you presumably reading his lips today. and also— you never reacted when he called out to you. today— you didn't immediately look up when he greeted you— you looked up once you saw his feet and worked your way up from there—
before that too— it took you forever to turn around, he was already preparing himself to repeat himself— is that why you walked away? you didn't hear him say ‘hey’ after all and his stupid ass didn't open his mouth again once you had set your eyes on him— how were you supposed to know he was trying to talk to you and not just standing around?
“so that's why shoko was typing on her phone for her…”, he mutters to himself, the seemingly unimportant memory of the party fully confirming his hypothesis.
your immovable expression of boredom makes way more sense now. your expression didn't waver after he growled at you for running into him— which makes sense since you didn't detect the threat in his voice. you were unamused when he approached you in the hallway because who wouldn't be? he'd probably be annoyed too if someone came up to him and tried communicating in a language he didn't understand—
connecting one point that spoke in your defence to the other made sukuna completely dismiss the possibility of you simply having no desire to be face to face with him.
“fuck it”, he sighs out as he stands up to grab his phone.
.
fuck shoko. sukunas second attempt at— cursing you out, probably?— yesterday made you unable to get a single wink of sleep last night. you’ll never wait for her again.
“ughhh—”, shoko drags out as you're locking your dorm room, “pleaseee wait for me before lunch—”
“I already told you no”, you pocket your keys.
“but todays different!”, she joins your strides as you start walking toward the elevator. “I share the course with satoru, you know how he is—”, she presses the button, “he’ll take me walking out alone as an invite to join me. I really, really—”, she takes the elevators chime as her cue to inhale deeply, “reallyyy.. can't handle his rambling today.”
“oh come on”, you step into the elevator, “he has his own friends im sure he’ll spare you—”
“NO”, she punches the elevator button aggressively, just as you were about to, making you flinch away, “I can't risk it pleasee— my social battery can't handle him today—”
“your social battery seems fully charged to me…”
“i’ll be quick!”, she holds your arms, “i promise i’ll sprint out the hall—”
how long can you deny those puppy eyes? you sigh out, “shoko. babe. i love you but for the sake of my blood pressure, I cannot see sukuna again.”
“you won't", she whispers without a shadow of doubt, “i’ll leave that hall so fast he won't have the chance to gang up on you again.”
“shoko—”
the elevator door opens but shokos still holding you in place.
“i’ll do the dishes for a week.”
you don’t budge.
“two weeks.”
her arms fall as you start walking out of the elevator.
“fine!”, she slightly jogs to catch up to you, “a month.”
“...deal”, you begrudgingly give in.
“bitch..”
“what was that? not waiting for you sounds awfully good right now..”
“nothing!”
"that's what I thought.”
there's a short-lived silence between you as you both leave the dormitory.
“i hope sukuna comes up to you again—”
you wince in sudden panic, your head turning her way, "don't say that!”
"i'm joking!"
.
it feels like escaping a month of dishes is not worth the anxiety you feel as you're waiting for shoko. again.
you close your eyes, focusing on taking deep breaths in hope of slowing down your racing heart. the thumping quietens down slowly as you try to compose yourself.
what are the chances of sukuna seeking you out a third time? ‘can’t be that high’, you think to yourself, even as you feel a familiar tension settling between your shoulder blades.
you open your eyes.
greeted by a scrumptious pair of pecs confirms that the chances are indeed that high.
a broad, muscular torso fills your vision. your eyes immediately register the dark ink on his wrists.
is there even a point in looking up? you can't just pass down on the chance to directly look at his ravishing face though. even if you by absolutely no means wanted this to happen. of course.
looking up at the towering 6’3 wall of muscle, the part of you which isn’t currently cursing out shoko, wonders if this is the outcome of a good deed or if you were some kind of evil queen in your last life.
sucking up knowledge was never a problem for sukuna. learning new things and using them to his advantage was always a skill he was proud of. he rarely had problems with his studies. he wasn’t a genius by any means— yet he quickly understood what was needed, even if it was a night before a life-altering exam.
so why is he— even after memorizing and practicing for way longer than he needed— nervous about forgetting everything and fucking up once you gaze back into his eyes?
you watch his adams apple bop. what the actual fuck does he want from you? did he find out that you're not mute and is here to give a piece of his mind?
sukuna watches you slightly tilt your head in question. ‘cute’, he can't help but slightly smirk at the sight. now that he's sure he's got your attention—
‘third times the charm’, sukuna thinks to himself. he raises both of his hands, palms facing upward, and starts gently shaking them side to side simultaneously.
‘what’
then he pushes his dominant hand, palm facing you, toward you.
‘your’
he extends his index and middle finger on both hands, keeping them pressed together. and by tapping one pair on the other—
‘name’
— he completes his question.
you’re left utterly confused and speechless by sukunas movements. why is he throwing up gang signs? and what the fuck are you supposed to do? is he doing some kind of ritual? you did hear of some rumors that he used to be some four-armed two-faced demon-king—
did he fuck it up? he can feel sweat building up on his body as a torturous heat settles upon his insides. you're just staring at him—
oh he's stupid. how the fuck are you supposed to answer— that’s the only thing he can sign, for now, he won’t understand if you sign back—
a shout of your name interrupts you both.
you immediately snap your head toward a frantic shoko, who's currently running in your direction.
sukuna copies you, somewhat mad at whoever decided to steal your attention from him once again— only to see the same reason. shoko. fuck her— though he has to appreciate her this time because he finally learned your name.
are you supposed to hate or love shoko? “hey sukuna”, she throws a nervous laugh his way, “have to steal my friend here from you”, she could start a rap career with the speed she's talking with right now, “bye.”
you're dragged away in one swift, blurring motion. sukuna is once more left wondering if the last five minutes really happened.
he silently breathes your name out to himself. it feels right on his tongue, like a poem he had memorized in a past life, begging to be vocalized again.
.
you shouldn't feel so comfortable— sitting in a public library, having an active conversation with shoko— while a certain salmon-haired hottie could walk past any moment and recognize you. yet you cannot help yourself, finding the topic way too amusing, even if said topic was about the key factor of your fight-or-flight response working overtime.
“i swear to god she started throwing a temper tantrum on the middle of the fucking dance floor”
“you have to be exaggerating”, you remark between laughs, “stomping around and whining?”
“the whole thing! i’m pretty sure she shed some tears! and for what?— because sukuna wouldn't dance with her?”
“i did not expect yorozu to be this obsessed over him”
“you don't even know half of it”, shoko said in a harsh whisper, trying to respect the rules of the library, “i heard she's been running after him since high school.”
“since highschool?!”, you gasped, amused.
“some say she only applied here because of him”
“from what I heard from you, I wouldn't be surprised if that's true”, you mused.
“real”, she puffs out, “poor guy. if i didnt know better i’d even go as far and say he looks terrified when she’s in the same room”
“I cannot imagine him looking terrified”, you try envisaging it for a second, “terrifying? definitely.”
“pfft— you're giving him too much credit.”
“you know damn well—”
“anyway get this”, she leans closer to you, “the reason yorozu threw herself at him— ignoring the fact that she always does…”, she veered off briefly, “was because sukuna apparently pushed some girl off the couch at a party and yorozu swore up and down that he did it because he's in love with her”
“no fucking way”, you comment, blinking in disbelief.
“yes fucking way!”
a shiver suddenly drips down your back. the abrupt drop in temperature forms a rope of unease in your stomach.
“I honestly wish I could be as delusional as her—”
“hey”, you interrupt shoko, “it’s cold as fuck”
“not really, no”, she shrugs.
you blame some open window on the sudden drop in temperature, not recognizing the piercing presence a mere bookshelf away.
₍^. .^₎Ⳋ [ a/n ] BRO I FUCKING REALIZED THAT HERES NO SPACING BETWEEN SCENES LIKE THERES SUPPOSED TO BE I HAD TO REEDIT IT and there isnt spacing in chapter 1 either... IM GONNA CRY... whats your fav curse word? probably fuck.... yall hate to break it to you but chapter 3 will probably take a while.. i have exams coming up and tbh the only reason i managed to update so fast is because i only had to write the last two scenes, since i originally planned on publishing the whole story at once and had half of it written already. sorry in advance for the wait (｡ᵕ ◞ _◟)
ANYWAY HOPE YOU LIKED THE CHAPTER !! tysm for all the likes, comments and reblogs ilysm (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
dont be shy to leave more (｡>\\<)
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