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seeingivy · 4 months

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pretty girl

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: kind of suggestive? reader is super insecure + sukuna might be ooc but ??? yk. it is what it is. come get yall juice.

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

when sukuna’s phone rings - for the third time, signaling that he actually has to pick up now - he definitively decides that he is going to move far, far away. maybe if he lived in shibuya, or even as far as kyoto, his stupid little brother wouldn’t call him every time he got too drunk to drive him and his idiotic friends home.

and when sukuna walks straight into the bar - blaring music, haphazard puddles of alcohol all over the floor, and the most pungent, putrid sweat smell hanging in the air - he’s almost positive that he’s going to start looking for a new apartment tomorrow.

it takes him approximately thirty-five seconds to find yuuji. though he supposed he should have noticed faster that the pink haired idiot standing on top of the bar, with a black sea urchin shaking at his legs was exactly what he was looking for.

sukuna makes his way over, shoving megumi hard in the shoulder as he looks over, eyes glazed and cheeks pink. after almost seven times of doing this, sukuna knows exactly how this is going to go. that despite the tattoos, the entirely different facial structure, and physique, megumi is going to confuse sukuna for yuuji.

“yuu’? how’d you get over there so fast?” megumi murmurs, reaching to cup the side of his face.

right again. sukuna smacks his hand out of his peripheral as he looks up at yuuji, who hasn’t even noticed that he’s arrived yet.

“move over.” he responds, irritated.

the second megumi lets go, sukuna all but shuffles yuuji off of his balance, making it a point to somewhat break his fall off of the countertop. only somewhat, because naturally he wouldn’t injure his little brother. but that doesn’t mean he’s not deserving of sometime of retribution for all the times he’s had to do this.

yuuji’s groaning in his arms as he pulls him up, as he halfheartedly makes grabby hands for fushiguro who was three feet away.

“‘gumi, cm’here.”

“we’re leaving. you can sit next to your gumi in the car.” sukuna states sternly, curling his nose at the godawful nickname, as he drags the two of them straight out into the cold air.

he’s all but opening the doors for the two of them, getting more irritated as the two of them excitedly look up at the sky, pointing at all the little stars together before he all but shoves them again.

“look yuuji. it’s us.”

“where?”

“the two stars next to each other.”

sukuna watches yuuji’s eyes go wide, cheeks bright pink, as he wraps his arms around megumi. and fights the urge to gag.

it’s only then - when he’s wrestled seatbelts onto the two of them and stopped megumi from being the affectionate drunk that he is - that they make it a point to share an important piece of information.

“kugisaki and y/n are still in there! we can’t leave.” yuuji whines, leaning his head against megumi’s as his eyes quickly start drooping, almost fluttering shut before he can ask where the two of you could possibly be.

sukuna shuffles back through the group of bodies, this time looking for the other pair of the set. it takes more effort - because he’s sure that kugisaki is going to be sucking face with someone in the back corner and he’s going to have to put an end to it. and you. you were always particularly hard to find.

he spots the red hair three feet away and takes a deep breath. she’s almost entirely sitting on the girls lap - green hair, shitty glasses - as he makes it a point to tap on her shoulder. naturally, she doesn’t stop and he gets more disgusted as it goes on. he never thought she’d be so…handsy. or that he’d have to see it.

he does the next best thing. reaches to her side and tickles her, just enough to stop her and start the godawful, obscene screaming that worsens tenfold with every consecutive pint of alcohol she drinks. and of course, she’s just as predictable as the last.

“yuuji?! where the fuck do you get off doing that?”

he reaches for her wrist, shooting a polite smile.

“maki. always a pleasure. kugisaki, we’re leaving.”

“i’m not leaving.”

maki gives him a halfhearted shrug as he all but throws her over her shoulder, tuning out the insults that are streaming out of her mouth as he all but carries her through the group of bodies. if you weren’t regulars here, sukuna was positive that he’d get arrested for that profanities coming out of her mouth - that, and the fact that it looked like he was abducting her. but no one turns a blind eye, almost irritated that she’s at it again.

that makes two of them.

when nobara’s tucked into the back, he makes it a point to throw a water bottle at each of them - specifically square in the face for yuuji and megumi who are cuddling in his backseat - as he glares at all of them.

“okay, kugisaki. where’s y/n?” sukuna asks.

she’s leaning her head back against the headrest, eyes fluttering shut, as she murmurs something unintelligible.

“she….ugly.” kugisaki murmurs.

“she’s ugly?” sukuna deadpans.

well, she’s certainly not ugly.

“ugly…bathroom.” she murmurs again, taking it as his best option.

sukuna marches back into the bar, for the third time, and beelines straight into the bathroom in the back. and there you are, crumpled up on the floor with your knees hiked to your chest, with big tears in your eyes and two girls sitting right across from you.

sukuna finds the sight rather…unusual. he knew that girls were quite different than guys, having heard you go on your spiels about womanhood and female friendship too damn often to know that it was a whole thing that was beyond him. but really, he finds it sincerely odd that the two girls sitting across from you are comforting you in your puddle of tears.

it’s not that sukuna’s stereotyping. or being judgemental. or he is a little, but he doesn’t frankly care. because labels, or groups or whatever existed for a reason. people who were similar flocked to one another. it’s how people were comfortable. how they functioned.

which is why sukuna’s unsure why these two girls - who are actually dressed up to be at the club - are sitting on the tiles with you, when you’re wearing one of those pink ribbons in your hair, that of course, matches the one on your bag.

but granted, this is you he’s talking about. he’s spent enough time trying to figure you out, before he naturally gave up. he always found that you transcended normal groups that he assigned.

you look up at him through your tearfilled eyes, a half smile on your face.

“sukuna, you-you’re here.”

sukuna ignores the fact that he’s pleased, very pleased, that you didn’t just confuse him with yuuji, as he holds his hand out to you and grabs your purse with the other one. and when you place your hand in his, you can feel the heat rushing up your body, more so when he leans down, lips few feet apart as he murmurs to you.

“we’re leaving. now.” sukuna states, glaring at you.

you feel the heat rush to your cheeks, acutely aware of every detail on his face. that his hair is slightly messy - because he must have woken up to come get you - and that his eyes are almost tired. you fight the urge to smile...at how sweet It all is.

“okay. thanks for coming to get us.” you respond, giving him a smile.

the two girls sprawled on the floor stand up, yanking their dresses down the slightest amounts as they flash you warm, kind-hearted smiles.

sukuna, really, truly does not understand it. at the way that you’re so open with them, despite the fact that they must be strangers.

“you, give him hell. and you, i’m really happy for you. i’m sure your wedding will be beautiful.” you state, pointing at the two girls who had been accompanying you on the bathroom floor for the past hour.

“and you. stop letting people call you ugly and taking it to heart. the bows are cute. your fashion is amazing. and men don’t deserve shit.” the first girl slurs.

you give her a smile, as sukuna all but tugs you out of the bathroom by the wrist, arm secured around your shoulder as he leads you through the crowd. sukuna drops his arm around you as the crowd gets thicker, hands straight on your waist as he steadies you in front of him. and when he leans down to whisper in your ear, it sends a shiver down your entire spine.

“do i even want to ask?” he sneers.

“it’s her bachelorette party! and that’s her best friend, though she seems kind of…off her rocker. but in a good way. power to her for being bold.” you respond.

sukuna rolls his eyes as he pushes you out into the cold air last, reaching for the front seat door and opening it for you. except when he looks back, you’re staring up into the sky just as yuuji and megumi were, the softest of smiles on your face.

sukuna makes a mental note of the dark, black tear streaks on your cheeks and your sniflfy nose as he clears his throat to get your attention.

“oh. sorry, i’m here. i’m here.” you respond, quickly shuffling into the car as you wipe your face.

sukuna shuts the door behind you, pausing to look up at the sky too. and silently wonders what exactly it was that you thought when you looked up at it.

sukuna makes it a point to take you out of the car last. because naturally, he’d save the easiest job for the end. by the time he had turned onto his street, you were snug asleep against the window of his car, creating a small indent into your forehead from the plastic of the door as he parked on the street. and he’d give you the few seconds of peace as he wrangles the rest of them out.

megumi and yuuji were easy to wrangle. because if sukuna too one out, the other one would quickly follow - and mope a great deal. megumi was on the side closer to the door, meaning he had to brace himself for the confusion once again, as he shrugged him awake.

“‘yuu. are you going to carry me to bed?” he murmurs.

“absolutely fucking not.” sukuna responds, yanking him out as yuuji follows up the stairs. he sets the two of them on the couch, a surefire way to ensure that they don’t do something heinous to his sheets during the night - or the morning after - as he braces himself for kugisaki next.

when he slings her arm around his shoulder, the obscenities start.

“maybe if you had a job or something, maybe we wouldn’t bother you so much. It-”

“i have a job, kugisaki. a job that just payed for your drinks, mind you.”

it seems that in his rusk of getting ready, yuuji had accidentally swiped his wallet on the way out. and of course, it was his turn to pay for the drinks.

“you need to get a hobby. have you thought of sewing?” she asks.

“that would be useful. then i’d have hundreds of needles to stick in your eyes.”

“when was the last time you felt the touch of a woman, sukuna?”

“when was the last time you went on a date? are the middle school makeout sessions hitting the mark for you, kugisaki?”

“shut the fuck up.” she sneers, reaching to smack him as he shoves her straight on to the guest bed and quickly shuts the door behind him.

he’s satisfied when he hears no inclination of her following, which always seems to be a gamble depending on how much she’s downed that night. or how short he cut off whatever it was she was doing with maki.

when sukuna makes it back to the car, he half debates just leaving you in there. because you look so comfortable, with his stray jacket strewn over your shoulders, and your breath that’s fogging up the glass of the mirror. but the fact that your neck is at an awkward angle and the cold air solidify his decision.

he open the door and you halfhazardly jolt awake, blinking your eyes as sukuna comes into your line of vision. you shoot him a smile as he holds his hand out to you, locking them together as he drags you up to the apartment, straight into his bedroom.

“can i use the bathroom?” you ask.

“you know where it is.” he responds, noting and particularly hating the biting tone in his voice.

“thank you!” you respond, shuffling into the room and shutting the door.

albeit weirdly, sukuna presses his ear to the door to confirm his suspicions. and the soft clinking of bottles, of the water running on and off, tells him enough.

that you’re doing your longwinded skin care routine in his bathroom. that you shoved all of your serums and moisturizers in your purse because you couldn’t skip out on it for even one day.

he’d make it a point. to slam the door open and make fun of you for it. but he bites down any retort he has when he hears soft sniffling and pushes the door open for an entirely different reason.

“what the hell is your problem?” he asks.

“huh?”

“you and your friends get obscenely drunk. then, you call me in the middle of the night and wake me up. and right when i’m about to go to bed, you’re crying in my bathroom. so what the hell is it? just tell me.”

you sniffle.

“do you really want to know?” you whisper.

“you’re wasting more of time with your shitty attitude. i’m not going to stand here and coax it out of you, so just tell me straight up or stop crying.”

you sigh.

“if you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.”

sukuna wants to smack you. of course you feel the need to talk in tongues.

“in english this time?” he asks.

“you can try to look nice as much as you want. but even all that…makeup…fancy skincare. it can’t change the fact that i just look like this. that if you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.” you state.

“you think you’re a pig?” sukuna asks.

you sigh.

“maybe.” you murmur.

sukuna tosses you the extra set of clothes he dragged out, tossing them straight at you as you send him a grateful smile.

“thanks, sukuna.” you murmur.

“for what?”

he could barely even muster a response, a coherent one that you deserved, in response to what you shared with him.

“dunno. i tell other people and they just kind of go…but you’re so pretty!! and…it falls flat. it’s nice to not be coddled. just said things as they are.”

sukuna can feel a burning feeling in his chest that increases tenfold when you press a kiss into the softness of his cheek. and he stands there dumbfounded, watching you smile and make a move to walk away. he instinctively reaches for your bicep and pulls back, a sweet smell emanating from whatever you’ve just smeared on your face, as he looks down at your lips.

there’s some type of glitter on them. whatever you’ve just put on makes them look bigger, fuller. he wonders if some trace of it is left on his cheek.

“did you need something?” you ask.

“sleep in my bed.”

“huh?”

“i’ll take the couch. get in the bed.” he utters.

the following morning, sukuna wakes up to three plates of breakfast with an annoying sticky note pressed on top.

thanks for coming to get us sukuna!!! :DD

it’s the first time the thought crosses his mind. that his preconceived notion might be incorrect.

that it’s not that you’re too good for him. it’s that everyone else isn’t good enough for you.

the next time you see sukuna is when you’re teetering past tipsy to fully drunk in your childhood bedroom, on christmas eve. well, he’s not exactly inside the room, more knocking on the door frame.

you gesture for him to come in, setting the wine bottle down, as he takes the seat next to you.

“where’s yuuji?” you ask.

“still at megumi’s.”

sukuna loosens the tie around his neck and unbuttons the top three buttons of his collared shirt, as he slides closer to you. you've never been one to shy from his touch, settling into his embrace, as he racks his mind, desperately, on how to broach the topic, that’s been on his mind for weeks.

sukuna slides his arm around your shoulder to your nightstand, to a little bundle of dried flowers. he opts to leave his hand pulled around you, as he pulls it closer to the two of your faces, resting his temple against yours.

“what’s this?”

“it’s my corsage from prom. like sixty years ago.”

“who did you go with?” sukuna asks.

“no one. i never got asked. i just bought one because…you know how all the girls line up in a row and stick their hands out to show their corsage off? i didn’t want to be left out of that picture.” you state.

“so you ordered it yourself?”

“mhm. pink flowers, white bow. it matched my dress.” you hum.

“always the bows huh?”

sukuna sets the corsage down in your lap, as he leans closer into your space and digs into his pocket. you can smell his cologne, strong and musky in your space, as it mixes with your own flowery perfume and gives your head a slight rush.

he pulls out his keys and sets them flat in the palm of your hand, as you inspect each little accessory on his ring. there’s two keys - one for his apartment and one for his house - and two keychains. one of him as a lego, which you know yuuji bought him for his birthday, and another one from alaska, that you and yuuji had bought him on your school trip in eighth grade.

but the third is a ribbon, secured right on the ring of his keychain. you inspect it between your fingers, and he supplies the answer before you can ask.

“you left it at my house.” he states.

“so…so you put it on your keys?”

“wanted to make sure it was on me. in case i saw you.”

you make a move to pull it off the ring, but he closes his hand over yours.

“it’s mine now.” he states.

“then why did you show it to me?” you whispers.

sukuna’s not sure what it is that drives him to do it, merely the fact that he has no patience and surely no self control, but he hooks his hand straight under your thigh, securing you straight on his lap. you can feel your breath hitch in your throat as he leans his forehead straight against yours, his hands on your thighs burning your skin.

“what are you doing? yu-yuuji will eventually get here you know.” you whisper.

“do you like him?” sukuna asks.

“what? no-no, he’s with megumi. and he’s gay.” you whisper.

“so why are you thinking about him when you’re here with me?”

“i-i’m not. you just-”

sukuna swallows hard, taking a deep inhale of your smell, before he slithers one of his hands around your neck and pulls you closer. he can feel you fidget in his lap, nearly knocking over half the things behind you as you twitch in his lap and he murmurs into your skin.

“relax.”

you take a deep breath, grounding yourself by digging your hands into the muscle of his arms.

“okay. you-”

“the guy at the bar. what did he say to you?” he whispers.

“which guy?”

“when i picked you up last. when you slept in my bed.”

you feel your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

“nothing. he-”

sukuna’s squeezing into the plush of your thighs, his hands firm and warm as you fight the urge to yelp.

“tell me what he said.”

“nothing, sukuna. i didn’t want to kiss him yet. and he leaned in. got-got offended. just said some things before he walked away.” you mumble.

“things like?”

“like you know. the usual stuff.”

“that you’re ugly?” he asks.

it's almost embarrassing, but his look is so unrelenting that you have to give in. you nod, as sukuna takes his hands off of your legs, bringing them up to cup the side of your face this time. he snakes one of his hands into your hair, yanking the bow out as he curls it in his hand.

“do you believe him?” he asks.

“no.” you respond.

sukuna leans closer, his lips brushing against yours as you instinctively shut your eyes. that it burns too much to look at him.

“are you lying to me?”

“n-no.” you mumble back, as you try to lean in but feel sukuna pull back.

when you open your eyes, you can’t but pout as he smiles at you, as he grins at you after pulling away.

“don’t be a tease, sukuna.”

he laughs into your neck, before the warmth blooms on your neck as his lips connect to your skin, as he leaves a trail of warm kisses up the side of your neck. each new spot he touches has you nearly melting in his touch, as he can feel you slouching onto him, leaning your entire body weight against his.

he continues that way, refusing to kiss you full on the mouth, as you feel your skin bloom warmth with every new place that he touches. each of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, even your eyelids that you’ve fluttered shut this entire time. some part of it is agonizing, that he continues to give but won’t receive in return.

you take his collar into your hands, crumpling the fabric as you yank him straight and feel him smile against your lips.

“needy?”

“please. i want to-”

sukuna cuts you off before you can finish your request, the first inclination of your begging snapping the very little patience he had in the first place. your lips are soft and warm against his, as you surely spread that glittery nonsense over him, over his neck as you start peppering kisses over him. from how shy and awkward he’s seen you, he swallows down the surprise at how eager you are, at the way you’re basically pawing at him through his shirt.

except you pull back, wide eyed, when the two of you hear pounding up the step, accompanied by two voices getting louder in your ears.

“y/n!!! y/n, y/n merry christmas!!!” yuuji bellows, as you shove sukuna onto the floor and sit upright as he pads into the room and wraps you in a hug.

sukuna wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he stands up, giving megumi a nod, as yuuji turns to him and shakes hands. sukuna can’t help but smile at how pink your cheeks are, swollen lips and glazed eyes, as megumi and yuuji settle into both of your sides, arms wrapped around you.

you swallow hard as you look at sukuna, wide eyed as you noticed all the lipgloss that you left over him. and pale when megumi notices the big red mark on his neck.

“is that a rookie mark, sukuna?”

sukuna brings his hand up to his neck, only to be met back with the glitter on his fingers as he smiles - or more appropriately, grins at you - as you feel your cheeks go pink.

“who gave you that sukuna? your neighbor?” yuuji asks.

you feel your eyes go wide, as sukuna pinches his eyes at yours before responding.

“no. i haven’t talked to her in a while.”

you tuck away the detail, making sure to ask him about it later. it’s only now that sukuna’s reputation comes to the forefront of your mind, as you realize you might have made a grave mistake by letting sukuna indulge in whatever infatuation it is he’s having with you.

“yuuji. did you say hello to y/n’s sister?” he asks.

“she’s back in town?” he asks, turning to you.

“mhm. got back in today.” you murmur, as the two of them shoot you a smile and shuffle back into your room.

sukuna lifts you up by your wrists, as he starts fixing your appearance little by little. you can feel him zipping up the back of your dress - entirely unsure when he even had the time to do that - as he snags the little bow from his pocket and smooths it back into your hair.

“whose your neighbor?”

“jealous, princess?” he asks.

you turn around, poking one of your hands into the muscle of his chest.

“sukuna. i am not going to be one of your little lack-”

“you are not a lackey.” he whispers.

you pout at him, entirely disbelieving, as he wraps his hands around your face, the kiss sweeter, softer than the ones the two of you had just shared on the bed.

“you’d kill me if you did that.” you murmur.

“you think i relish in your pain?” he asks.

“dunno. you-”

he leans your head up again, tucking his head into the softness of your neck as he starts peppering kisses you again. your hands are a futile attempt to stop him, as he laughs into your skin.

“i’m here to make you feel good. i’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”

“oh?”

“let me. you- you’ve always been my pretty girl. and no one can make you feel good, treat you like you should, better than me.”

you push him off again as megumi and yuuji come back, with your sister in tow, as they gesture for you to join them downstairs. and sukuna follows behind, as you fight the urge to beam, when he secures his hand into yours behind their backs.

next part linked here

an: do NAWT ask for a part 2 bc I will do it. my brain is steaming. I am thinking thoughts.

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks

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seeingivy · 4 months

Text

meet and greet

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends older brother fic

previous part linked here

sukuna often comes home to you.

it’s never without warning - a text from you, begging to be freed from your roommates who apparently can’t keep their hands off of each other - and then you’re settled onto his couch, into one of his blankets, when he comes home.

sukuna would never be one to deny you. and on the third week, sukuna reasons that it’s practical. giving you a key to his apartment. one for you to keep, so you didn’t have to bend over and snag the spare from underneath his rug everyday.

so he sets it down - right in the middle of your book - before pressing a kiss to your cheek and letting you stew in your own feelings while he showers. and when he opens the door to the bathroom, he can hear your pounding feet right before you appear before him.

“hey.”

he smiles.

“someone’s eager. can you let me put some clothes on, pretty girl?”

you look down, at the fact that sukuna’s wrapping the towel around his bare waist, and pale.

“no! no, sorry. i mean yes. sorry. i’ll come back.”

sukuna relishes in the look on your face, that you’ve scrunched up your nose and forehead at how awkward you were being, as he places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly. he watches as your eyes slowly open, as you empathetically mouth the word sorry again, before he shrugs.

it was a habit the two of you had fallen into, rather fast. sukuna was quick to realize that your head tended to run in ten places at once, that your mouth could barely keep up with whatever was going on in your head. and you were quick to stop - coaxed by a gentle squeeze of the shoulder - when you realized that you were going too fast and he couldn’t keep up.

“you can stay. just promise not to look.” he mumbles, grinning to himself at the pink flush that goes down your neck as he gestures for you to follow.

sukuna watches as you sit pretty on his bed, fists curled up in your lap, and your eyes dutifully shut as he quickly throws on a pair of clothes. he stops himself from talking too fast, taking the second to watch you, observe you like this.

at you listening to him. so obediently.

“are you decent?” you ask, eyes still pinched shut.

“almost never.”

“you know what i meant.” you deadpan.

“yes, y/n. i’m wearing clothes.” he murmurs.

sukuna brings his hands around your cheeks, slowly pulling you up into his embrace as he feels you slowly settle against him, your hands warm on his biceps.

“had something you wanted to say?” he murmurs, lips warm on your forehead as you shudder.

you focus in on his tattoo, curling down the length of his shoulder, tracing the inked skin with your fingertips. you swallow down the retort that you have, that he wasn’t wearing a shirt and therefore wasn’t fully clothed or decent, and decide to save it for another time.

and try to figure out the best way, the most appropriate way, to broach what sukuna had just given you.

“sukuna.”

“hm?”

“a key to your apartment?” you whisper.

“that’s right.” he murmurs.

you press yourself flesh to him, arms wrapped underneath his, as you feel the warmth run to your face. it’s moments like these that you can barely even look at him, because talking and maintaining contact with his eyes simultaneously had proven to be a difficult feat.

he made you nervous. you know that he uses it to his advantage.

like he was right now. purposely dropping the key on you, only to fully talk when he wasn’t wearing a shirt. you knew that sukuna had to be aware. of how he made you feel. you’ knew he was the observant type. and that he was perceptive too.

it’s almost too precise. too intentional, the way he touches you. like you're glass in his hands, only touching you where you touch him first.

in almost two weeks, his lingering brushes haven’t gone past your hips or your thighs, his warm kisses stopping right at your neck. it was entirely different to the haphazard, almost callous hands that you were used to, in your granted very limited experience.

it made your entire body twitch. though you suppose that’s the effect that sukuna just has on people.

“you ever think we’re going a little too fast?” you ask.

“did i ask you to move in with me?”

“no.”

“did i propose marriage?”

you scoff.

“no.”

“put a kid in you?”

“obviously not.”

sukuna laughs, right before pushing you back on the bed, ignoring your yelps as he all but crawls on top of you, his necklace hovering right above your lips as he smiles down at you.

“then how are we moving too fast?” he asks.

“you can’t just give me a key to your apartment. what if i’m a serial killer?”

“right. i’m going to get stabbed by a knife wrapped in a sparkly pink bow.”

“you could! have you never watched criminal minds? people will do anything these days.” you defend.

sukuna pauses, before he slowly dips down, lips warm on your cheek.

“are you planning on murdering me anytime soon?” he whispers.

“no.”

he responds with a kiss, before latching his lips straight to your neck.

“are you going to secretly plot to poach the apartment from me?”

“no.”

this time his lips linger for too long in that spot, the pressure increasing so fast that it makes you can’t even stop the yelp from coming out of your mouth even if you wanted to.

“are you going to steal from me?”

“maybe your shirts.” you murmur.

“maybe my shirts.” he repeats, resembling an affirmation. like he’s giving approval.

sukuna finally releases the spot on your neck, which you’re sure will purple over by tomorrow, as he brings his left hand down into your hair.

“you have weird fucking roommates. don’t think i haven’t noticed that you keep coming back here to study. to have some peace and quiet. just take the key and use the space. what’s mine is yours.”

you wrap your hand around the silver chain, pulling him closer to you as you muster your best, more intense stare for him. but sukuna just thinks that you oddly resemble a kitten when you do it and swallows down his laugh.

“promise i won’t disturb you?”

“disturb? no. distract, however? i imagine that’s nearly impossible for you to do.”

“hey. i would leave you alone if you asked me to.”

“why would i ever ask you to do that?” he responds, pushing off the bed and holding his hand out to you as you both pad out of his bedroom and back out to the kitchen.

on friday, sukuna sends you a message from his work email.

Dear Y/N, Are you free tonight? Best, Sukuna

you snicker, as you open up the email chain and type your reply.

dear king of my ass, i knew the age gap was going to bite us in the butt. did you just send me an EMAIL? are you about to invite me to a NURSING HOME? your friendly neighborhood spiderman, y/n

the response comes back extremely fast.

dear queen of my dick, did you learn how to write emails from a cereal box? have some decorum. and i’m only two years older than you, for your information. my colleagues have decided to take my phone for the day in their very futile efforts at stopping me from arguing with our boss. and naturally, the group of them have decided to look through my phone and now have every intention to meet you. can you meet us for drinks at six? the green goblin, sukuna

you respond back just as fast.

dear prince of cooties, interesting. who are these clowns? and why do they know your phone passcode when you won’t even tell me? >:( (your response is contingent on my arrival, traitor) member of the order of the phoenix, y/n

you step off the train, nervously waiting for a response, as you sprint up to your apartment to find a for a good outfit to wear. that would impress sukuna and his friends.

the mere thought of it fills you with anxiety when you think about it. that sukuna’s friends would be domineering, as intense, if not even more than he was. and that it would be very easy for you to embarrass him.

your royal stinkiness, do i need to come over and shut you up? you’re yapping an awful lot. and our resident pain in the ass only noticed - and badgered me to invite you to our plans - when he saw my lock screen. i’ll meet you at yours at five thirty. your most beloved death eater, sukuna

there’s a very simple solution to your problem. the only person who can help you with your outfit is your roommate, mai.

sukuna never found it in himself to police what a woman wears. mainly because it never did him any good in the past. a high heel to the foot, getting yanked out of the bar by his hair, and worst of all, losing the hair cells in his ear from the screaming.

but you can’t be serious. there’s no way he’s going to let you wear that.

“uh, you can come in. just be quiet. mai has one of her guys over. i just need to finish my makeup.”

and change your outfit.

the retort dies on his tongue as follows you through your dorm, only now acutely aware of the age difference between the two of you, as the smell of sex reeks in the foyer, reminding him too vividly of when he was in college four years ago.

you drag him straight into your room by the wrist, sitting down at your vanity, as sukuna lingers around your room - his hands on all of your little trinkets - as you brush the last of the powders on your cheeks.

“this is perverted.” he states.

you turn around to find your sonny angel in his hand, as you stand up and snatch it back from his hands before glaring at him.

“don’t talk about her like that. it’s a special edition.”

“it isn’t wearing any clothes.”

“i could throw you out for the same reason but you don't see me doing that. put her back. "

you settle back into your vanity as he comes up behind you, smiling at you from the mirror before resting his arms right at your sides. he bends down and presses a kiss into your bare shoulder, his eyes quickly wavering down before meeting yours again.

thank god for mai.

“are you going to wear that?” sukuna asks, carefully picking his words.

he watches as you turn back and look at him, eyes wide.

“do you not like it?” you murmur.

“do you like it, y/n?” he asks.

you swallow hard.

“what do you mean?” you ask.

sukuna knows for a fact that he’s right. that in the three weeks that he’s been privy to be this close to you, what he’s gathered is correct. and he desperately hates that he has to wrestle you out of this outfit now, because there’s no way he was going to watch you twitch and shuffle in your seat the entire night.

for reasons that are entirely lost to him, you’re not very comfortable with certain parts of your body. he can tell from the clothes you pick out, from the way you tend to shift nervously and yank your own shirts down when you feel something might be showing too much.

he can gather as much. you’re not particularly fond of your chest. you tend to dress more modestly when it comes to the shirts you wear, always layered and hardly revealing. you’re not nervous when it comes to your legs. he's seen you sporting shorts and skirts, even going as far as letting him place his hands on your thighs.

and he’s almost positive that there’s no way that you feel comfortable now. because your shoulders are tense and you keep pulling your top up, nervously readjusting your hair onto your shoulders to cover the most that he can.

it’s only then that he notices it.

“your hair.” he states.

“what about it?”

“fix it.” he demands.

you turn back to look at him again, tilting your head to the side in confusion. and he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose, trying to get him to verbalize his embarrassing request or get on his nerves, but he’s intent on getting you back for it all the same.

“the ribbon. put it on.” he responds, grating the words through his teeth.

you feel the smile spread across your face - and immediately wipe it off when he glares at you - as you rummage through your drawer for one of your ribbons and quickly lace it in with the strands. and he gives you his approval - in the form of a kiss on the top of your head - before kneeling at your side.

“are you trying to impress me? with the shirt?” he asks.

“yeah. but it’s not a bad thing! i….i just want to look nice for you. and your friends.”

sukuna takes a deep breath. it seems that you were always deadset on testing his patience.

“who put that thought into your head? and for your sake, i’ll pretend that i didn’t hear the end of that sentence.” he utters, wholly irritated.

“about your friends-”

sukuna leans closer to you, knocking over the tiny bottles of serums and makeup on your desk, as his breath fans onto your face.

“don’t repeat it again. you’re only supposed to dress like that for me.”

you feel the embarrassment course through you.

“sor-”

“change.” he repeats, pushing off of the desk and knocking everything else off the stand.

he finds himself in your closet, pushing your hangers on the rod before yanking out one of your dresses, as you nod and shoo him out of your room. and when you shimmy the dress on, discarding the old top onto your bed.

sukuna’s satisfied by the smile you give him, that you seem to release your breath as he all but pulls you out of your apartment by your wrists.

sukuna stops you before you walk into the bar. and makes you repeat the promises he’s asked you to make. though, you really can’t understand half of them.

“okay, repeat for me.”

“i am under no circumstances allowed to divulge that we’ve known each other since we were kids. specifically to satoru. i’m not allowed to exchange social media with shoko. and i’m not going to interact with anyone at the other tables.”

“good girl.”

sukuna tucks you into his side, as he pushes open the door, and drags you to the table all the way in the back. there’s four people seated there, each clearly still in their work clothes of buttoned up shirts and blazers.

sukuna reaches for the one closest to the edge, with white hair and blue eyes, before nearly yanking him out of the booth and instructing him to sit on the other side.

“i was sitting there!” he pouts, wrapping his arm around the blonde at his side who recoils in response.

“and now she’s sitting there.” sukuna states, pushing you into the middle seat of the booth.

sukuna places his hand flat on your knee before pushing down, in an effort to stop your nervous bouncing.

“y/n. these are my coworkers, sa-”

“friends! we’re his friends!” the white haired man states again, smacking his fist on the table.

“coworkers. shoko, nanami, satoru, and suguru.” he clarifies.

“it’s nice to meet you guys. my name is y/n!”

“blink twice if you’re in danger. or if he’s holding you hostage.” shoko states, peering into your eyes.

you laugh, pleasantly surprised and less nervous by the joking demeanor - and the fact that the four of them are actually smiling at you - as you slump down into the chair. you place your hand over sukuna’s under the table and squeeze.

“how did you guys meet?” nanami asks.

“we met when we were…at the grocery store.” you state.

“meet cute!” satoru states, clapping his hands together as sukuna rolls his eyes.

and it goes decently well. because sukuna’s friends, or coworkers, aren’t what you expected in the slightest. you find out very quickly that satoru likes to annoy sukuna like it’s his one job in life, which sukuna absolutely detests. and that suguru, whose increasingly soft smiles have been helping you all night, has been dating him for the past two years.

“do you think we’re best friends in every universe, sukuna?” satoru asks.

“we aren’t best friends.”

“sukuna!”

“i would kill you in another life. and this one too, given the chance.”

and it all comes crashing down - the warm, gooey feeling you have from being liked by sukuna’s friends, that they remind you of your own - when someone pulls up a chair to the end of the booth, sitting on it backwards, slurring as they talk.

“do i know you from somewhere?”

you take in his appearance and immediately pale, realizing that you do in fact know him somewhere. and that it wasn't very pleasant. and that in the next few seconds, sukuna’s going to revert to his teenage rage when he finds out you lied about what happened at the bar a few weeks ago.

“no! no, i don’t think so.”

“do you think you would be able to quit being a nuisance for one night, zenin?” shoko asks, making it a point to light a cigarette right in his peripheral.

“i swear i know you from somewhere. have we met before?”

“i’m afraid not.” you respond.

“i’m afraid not?” he repeats, squinting his eyes together before they go wide.

wrong choice of words. because he catches on fast enough and responds by smacking his fist right on the table, before laughing.

“this is our boss, naoya zenin. unfortunately, he’s always like this.” suguru murmurs, mustering a polite smile.

“that’s what you said to me. i’m afraid not. before you bit me.” naoya clarifies.

you pale and look over at sukuna, whose ears have perked up, as he leans over his forearm, his fists clenched on the table.

“what did you just say?” sukuna asks.

“this is the crazy bitch i told you about a few weeks ago. she fucking bit me when i tried to kiss her.”

“it was an accident. you just caught me off guard!” you clarify.

and within the blink of an eye, sukuna’s punched him straight in the nose, sending the poor guy to the ground. and you can tell he makes no move to stop when he holds him up by the collar of his shirt, as nanami and satoru stand at his sides, urging him to settle down.

you remember now from the email that sukuna had stated, rather explicitly, that it took the group of them to settle him down from his boss everyday. and now his hatred for him was certainly worse.

shoko and suguru are at your sides, hands on your shoulders, as they pinch their faces up.

“c’mon, sukuna. not worth it.” nanami murmurs, trying to wrestle the poor guy out of his hands.

“are you really going to do this in front of your girl?” satoru asks, eyes wide as he glances over at you.

sukuna clears his throat, like he’s thinking, before he talks.

“suguru.”

he sighs at your side.

“really, sukuna. it’s not a good look.” he responds.

“exactly. so get her out of here.” he repeats, glaring at him, as suguru and shoko oblige start shuffling you out of the bar by your sides and taking you out into the cold of the bar.

but the windows are clear. and the shades are pulled wide open. the fact that the two of them have escorted you out leaves little to the imagination. because sukuna swings the second your feet hit the pavement and the resounding cracks that follow could only meet one thing.

“we’re sorry about him. he’s not always like this.” suguru states.

“no, he is. he’s been like this since he was like thirteen.” you murmur.

you feel your eyes widen, as suguru and shoko look over at you, confused.

“ah. you know. he’s told me before. about how he was as a kid. real emotional guy.”

“no he hasn’t.” shoko states.

suguru breaks out into a smile.

“have you known sukuna for a while? like…since you were kids?” suguru asks.

“don’t tell satoru. he made me promise. but i’ve known him since i was four. he’s my best friend’s older brother.”

and then shoko and suguru are barely able to contain their laughs, the latter nearly toppling onto the pavement as tears sprout out of his eyes. which is the exact sight that sukuna walks out to - seeing stars from his left eye as the skin swells up. he’s quick to stand at your side, as you reach out for his fists, eyeing the red smeared all over them.

“not mine. most of it anyways.”

“your eye. are you-”

“i had to let him get one in. so i don’t get fired.” he shrugs, as he look over at suguru, who is now being pulled up by satoru.

he glares.

“what the fuck is so funny?”

“y/n promised she wouldn’t let satoru find out. scouts honor.”

you watch as sukuna’s cheeks turn pink, and as he quickly waves goodbye to everyone, before he’s dragging you down the block to the car and far away from them.

“hold the ice pack there.” you scold, pushing the block back into his face as he rolls his eyes.

you’re intent on disinfecting and wrapping both of sukuna’s knuckles, because save for what he said, there’s deep cuts along the length of both of his hands.

“it’s fine.” he states.

“you know. he was bleeding too. hiv can be passed through bodily fluids.”

sukuna laughs, as you fight the urge to smile, and you carefully tie the white bandages around his wrist. his hands are calloused under yours, rough as you brush your fingers around his peeled skin and he lightly flinches.

“relax.” you murmur.

“you bit him?” he asks.

you groan.

“you’re in no position to be asking me questions right now. i’m mad at you.”

“you’re mad at me? and what did i do to be so worthy of your wrath?”

“i was having fun! i didn’t want to leave yet. and i didn’t realize you were still stupid enough to get into fights, sukuna.”

“he called you a bitch. that warranted more than what i did.”

"don't pretend that was you showing mercy, sukuna. he probably got dragged out on his feet."

"and if he didn't, i'll make sure of it on monday."

you sigh.

“now i’m never going to tell you what happened.” you state.

sukuna rests one of his hands by your side, setting the icepack down and squeezing hard as you focus in on the bandage on the other side.

“ice pack.”

“don’t want it. i want to know what happened.”

“well, i’m not going to tell you.”

sukuna reaches his hands beneath the pleats of your dress, lifting you straight onto the counter, and pushing so close into your space that you’re lying down flat on the granite of his counter. and naturally, he’s hovering over you again, his pink hair tickling your forehead.

you find it annoying that he always talks to you like this. mostly because it sends your heart straight into your throat and you find it hard to talk.

“you should really ice that. and do you always feel the need to be on top of me when you talk to me?”

“only when you’re being bratty and won’t listen.” he states.

“i wasn’t done with your hand.”

“and i wasn’t done talking to you.”

you pause.

“promise you won’t do anything.”

“absolutely not.”

“sukuna.”

“fine.”

“i was talking to him at the bar. he leaned into to kiss me. i didn’t want to, so i said i couldn’t. be asked why. if i liked him. i said “i’m afraid not” and then he leaned in again. fully this time. and i was so shocked that i accidentally bit his tongue before i could push him off. and then he called me an ugly bitch and walked away.”

sukuna pushes off the counter, yanking you off of your back by your forearms before he holds his hand out to you again. and places the ice pack flat against his eye. you shoot him a grateful smile as you finish the other bandage and then press yourself flesh against him.

“i made no promises. i’m going to punch him again on monday.” he states.

“had a feeling. you're going to get fired.” you state.

"nope."

"he'll report you to hr."

"and i'll tell them that he tried to sexually assault my girlfriend."

you feel your cheeks burn, your heart thumping fast in your chest. at sukuna so freely giving you the label, like it was almost nothing to him.

"you're crazy."

“you’re fine with it? me beating it out of him?”

“no. but that’s not going to stop you is it?” you ask.

“absolutely not. he put his hands on you. I have every intent to break them.”

always one for the dramatics.

you drag your hands down the length of his arms, before taking his hands in yours. sukuna’s never had someone look at him like this, so intently, so carefully at his injured flesh like they wanted to take the pain away away. and there’s a part of him, one that’s too proud, that won’t ask for what he wants.

“that’s fine. it’ll be your fault when you get herpes.” you state.

“herpes aren't passed by blood.” he responds.

“why do you know that? speaking from past experience?”

“shut up.”

“well, now i’m never having sex with you. you can say goodbye to that fantasy.”

“you wound me.”

you release his hands as you reach for your things by the door, slipping your shoes on as you shoot him a smile. and it’s your smile, so full and bright, that supersedes the pride.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“can you come here?”

you nod, shuffling over as you tuck the purse into the crook of your arm, and look up at him.

“you’re not going to kiss it better?” he states.

it comes out as a demand, almost sarcastic. although he didn’t mean it that way. he silently hopes that you’re able to parse out the real meaning and that you’ll oblige his request.

“needy.”

you stand on your tip toes and press a kiss to the pink near his eye, before locking your hands in with his and placing a kiss softly on top of both of the bandages.

and when sukuna leaves, he can’t wait to beat it out of naoya again on monday. just to have you tenderly wrap him back up and put him back together after.

next part linked here

an: anyways. me and my ooc sukuna agains the world. and ofc, i will divulge why suguru laughed. and what the lockscreen is. let me cook guys 😞

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seeingivy · 3 months

Text

heart to heart

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

sukuna realizes that he’s falling in love with you on the anniversary of his grandfather's death. it’s rather morbid, but he deems that it’s fitting.

the more that he lingered on it, the more he realized it. that family – good and bad – was always going to hum in the background to the two of you. though he supposes that’s just because you grew up together, that somehow you were intertwined in all of each other’s firsts.

first day of school, first basketball game, first funeral.

the day itself isn’t one that sukuna likes to dwell on – a memory colored dark, pushed so hard into the deepest, darkest spots of his mind, that sometimes he only realizes the day has passed a week after the fact. regardless, whenever the realization comes to a head – on time or not – the regret is so suffocating he can barely breathe.

it’s why he makes every effort to avoid you when the day comes to pass. it’s something that he does with everyone – ignore them like he has the plague. but it’s a little bit different when it comes to you. it’s not personal, he muses, but at the same time, it most definitely is.

you’re central to the memory.

sukuna’s sitting up, an idle text being sent to both yuuji and his mom, when the knock on the door comes. and he can feel pressure increase in his throat at the sight of you – his brain feeling heavy, this time in a different way – as you balance two mugs in your hand.

if it was any other day, sukuna would have found it very difficult to contain himself. the messy bedhead, glasses perched on the edge of your nose, and the fact that you’re drowning in one of his dress shirts.

sometimes he wondered if you did it on purpose. tried to rile him up just to see how he would react. though on second thought, he almost knows for a fact that you hardly understood what exactly it was that you did to him. how you made his skin feel like it was on fire.

you sit across from him, setting both of the mugs down on the nightstand, before you press your fingertips to his collarbone and push him back on the headboard to use his body as a pillow. you can hear a scoff before sukuna’s hands tangle around your waist, his fingertips ghosting the waistband of what he recognizes as his boxer briefs.

“you know, part of your whole freeloading in my apartment agreement was that you’d steal my shirts. not my underwear too.”

you poke his chest.

“freeloading? need i remind you, that you basically beg me not to leave each time i’m here. and i’m sorry. i spilled the first batch of hot chocolate i made all over my pajamas and my spares are in the laundry.” you state.

hot chocolate.

sukuna knows for sure that you must be doing that on purpose. and that maybe you watch him as keenly as he watches you, because you catch on to his discomfort just as fast.

“i’m sorry if it’s too much.” you whisper.

you watch his adam’s apple bob in his chest, as he leans his head back against the headboard and shuts his eyes. you trace little stars into his skin, right under the tattooed flesh as you try to talk, as softly as possible.

like he’ll run off if you push too hard.

“sukuna. i-i know that this day can be hard. but we can do whatever you want today.”

“i have work.” he states.

“no, you don’t. satoru told me you took the day off already. that you always take it off. and suguru asked me to take care of you.”

sukuna rolls his eyes. idiots.

“what about yuuji? knowing you two, you’ve probably got some whole orate tradition you do. probably use my headshot as a dartboard.”

“it’s actually your yearbook photo.” you defend.

sukuna smiles.

“megumi and nobara have got him covered. i’m here for you.” you state.

sukuna looks down at you, before quickly looking away. he can’t stand your eyes.

“s’just another day, y/n. if anything, you should get the fuck out of my house. make sure my sensitive brother is fine.”

sukuna watches your eye twitch. he feels bad, but swallows it down.

you lift your hands up to cup the sides of his cheek, lightly rubbing your thumbs under his eyes until they open. his light brown eyes flicker to yours and the message comes off just as he intends it.

don’t.

sukuna should have known you’d be stubborn about it.

“sukuna. s’not really fair if we have a power dynamic.”

“i’m two years older than you. you are well of age.” he deadpans.

“i mean. when i tell you about what’s on my mind – insecurities or-or my fights with yuuji or even mazzy – it’s not just spilling out of me because you’re my boyfriend. like i’m so emotional that i rant about my problems to everyone. it’s actually more natural for me to put it away. and i purposely don’t for you.”

sukuna’s intrigued.

“i’m trying to do this right. like, not withhold things from you because i know that you would hate that. the same way that i would hate it, if that’s what you were going to do with me.” you respond.

you rest your cheek against his collarbone, before bending down to press a kiss into his skin.

“s’not a nice feeling. the conversations we have make me feel like i’m standing naked in front of a classroom on display sometimes. but it’s –” you start.

“that sounds like an ideal situation to me.”

you pinch his bicep.

“i mean. it’s not always easy to feel so bare. but i know it’s the right thing to do. and you kind of have to let me in too. i know it might not seem like that to you, because you fell into the caretaker role so quickly with me, but – i’m usually the one who does that type of thing, with everyone else. and i’m not half bad at it.”

sukuna watched you take care of yuuji his whole life. in the moments that sukuna wasn’t there, he knows that you were the one sitting at his side. especially when he took off so fast like he did.

it’s partly the reason that he was able to do it. because he knew that yuuji would be taken care of – and well, too. but it almost feels wrong, too immature of him to go to you with his problems.

how are you ever supposed to come to him again?

“c’mon, baby. anything you want today. we can go back home and eat at the diner. or go to his grave. stay in the entire weekend…” you hum.

it’s the first time that sukuna’s ever heard you use a term of endearment on him. he was never short of them, a constant cycle of his favorites – pretty girl, doll face, angel. it almost seemed wrong to call you by your name at this point, not when he could so openly express his affections and watch you smile at the fact.

but sukuna likes it more than he wants to. being called baby. he never wants you to say anything else again.

he always thought it was a little stupid, an infantile or immature nickname when he watched satoru call suguru as such. especially the way satoru always seemed to beam whenever he did it. he’ll be sure to swallow his retorts the next time.

“i want to go to the sushi place. back home.” he states.

you scoff.

“oh my god. i went on my first date there. got felt up near that fountain.” you respond, scrunching up your nose.

“i got a handjob near that fountain.” sukuna states.

“ew. don’t tell me you….in the fountain?”

he only grins in response.

“ew, sukuna! you’re such a dog.”

“i’ll have mai bring me a nice dress. we’ll go the whole ten miles on a fancy date, like everyone from high school. if you’re lucky, i might even let you touch my butt.”

“could i be so lucky?” he asks.

you pinch the side of his cheek. his response is pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“do you have a pink dress?” he asks.

“sure do. i’ll have her bring that one, okay?”

sukuna drives you to the sushi restaurant. the ride into town is quiet. you’d almost think that sukuna was mad at you for pushing, but his warm hand resting on your thigh silences almost all the qualms in your head.

when you make it there, the mere fact of being there with sukuna leaves you with an odd thought. that if things were different beforehand, you would have been fifteen standing there with him, instead of leaving the restaurant feeling oddly dissatisfied from a guy who really wanted nothing to do with you instead.

“sukuna. party of two.”

“it’ll just be five minutes.”

sukuna gives a kurt nod before dragging you to the other side to lean against the wall, his hand warm on your waist. you pick your brain at the best thing to say – his uncharacteristic silence brimming you with anxiety and making you particularly hyper-vigilant in choosing the right thing to say to him.

"you're beautiful, you know that?" he whispers.

you fight the urge to smile so hard.

"thank you, sukuna. you're beautiful too."

he glares at you.

"you're shitty."

you smirk, before pinching the side of his cheek. of course that was his reaction.

"you're such a cutie pie little baby sometimes I just wanna-" you coo.

"shut the fuck up before I make you." he responds.

"ooh. so scary!"

“i came here for the first time with my grandpa. i'll even tell you about it if you stop being a little bitch for a second.”

you stop.

“yes, sir. ” you respond, saluting.

sukuna smiles in response and it makes your heart skip a beat. that and the fact that you swear you've never seen his eyes so soft.

“so basically –” sukuna starts

“sukuna, y/n? is that you?”

you look over to your left to find one of your old neighbors – so old that you can barely even remember his name – standing at your sides, excitedly waving at the two of you.

“god, it’s been years! you two are so grown now.”

“mr. soma.” sukuna responds.

you find yourself grinning ear to ear at the fact that one, sukuna’s tone is entirely displeased. and two, that there’s no pleasantry laced in with his words.

“y/n. how is your dad? i haven’t seen him around in a while.”

the taste in your mouth is metallic.

“couldn’t tell you! i haven’t seen him either.” you state.

his face pinches up, the pitiful expression that follows causing a subsequent clenching of your jaw.

“sukuna. how’s your father?”

“still a dick.” he states.

you smile. the way he seems to flinch at the bluntness, at sukuna’s demeanor, is solace enough for the double dose of shitty dad comments. he gives you both a polite smile before skirting off, after an awkward round of small talk. university, work, yuuji and sammy and he's off.

you turn to sukuna, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“you okay?”

“obviously. a dumbass with a shitty attitude won’t ruin my mood when i’m here with you. are you?”

“me too.”

sukuna smirks at you.

“really? you're not internalizing every awkward experience that happens to you? have i entered a parallel universe today?”

“i’m a mystery, idiot. you can spend forever trying to figure me out.”

“planning on it.” he responds.

sukuna splits all his sushi with you. if you like a certain plate, he almost refuses to touch it afterwards, just to let you finish all the pieces. and after you say you’re too full, he’s does the job for you – only because you say that you feel bad leaving it to waste when they took the time to make it.

it’s strawberry ice cream afterwards and he makes it very clear that it's only because it’s your favorite. you swing by the store when you get back into the city and eat straight from the tub on the kitchen island.

and over your shared spoon of dessert, sukuna’s voice is almost so quiet you can barely hear it. you think that the ice cold sensation curbs any warm anxiousness that would stop him normally from talking – and you thank your cravings for it.

“my grandpa was the first person who took care of me.”

you press your cheek to his shoulder in response, rubbing circles into his palm as he talks.

“I know it's a natural thing. that when you have a younger sibling, that it takes the attention away from you. i know logically that i had that attention, that i required it when i was a baby too.”

"but?"

"but yuuji's so fucking likeable. i love the idiot and it feels like shit to admit, but i fucking hated that everyone almost forgot about me just because of him."

you pause.

“it’s hard not to like you too.” you state.

“but you know what i mean. i liked taking care of him, until i didn't. he got older and...and sometimes it felt like he didn't even fucking care about half the things i did for him. at one point, i got sick of watching everyone fawn over him so much that it made me upset. i told my mom but...you know how she can be. didn't really register for her. ”

you hum in response.

“my grandpa must have noticed that i had a little bit of resentment towards him, especially when i was in eighth grade. started getting in fights and acting out and all that. and he brought me here. and-and i was pissed at him that i just started fucking yelling at him. about how he didn’t care about me and how i felt unwanted and under-appreciated and…and he agreed with me.”

he pauses, bringing one of his hands up to your hair.

“i like feeling appreciated. valued enough that someone will listen to me and actually believe it. that he wanted to be around me too.” he states.

you pause, your heart clenching so hard in your chest. your stomach nearly drops at the sentiment, at the memory that you can feel tears in your eyes. you’re murderous hatred for sukuna and yuuji’s dad only grows tenfold with every consecutive day – but feels particularly potent now.

you immediately tilt your head up, in efforts to curb yourself from crying – when you’re the one who should be strong for him right now. he, of course, notices right away.

“eh? what’s wrong with you?”

“allergies.”

“did you miraculously get stung by a bee in the past few seconds while we were sitting here?”

you scoff.

“you’re so obsessed with me. you even memorized my medical history!”

“that was in no way romantic. god forbid i know a basic fact about you so you don’t like, literally die on me. now tell me what it is. you basically have to because my grandpa is dead, you know?”

“are you really playing the dead grandpa card?”

“the fact that you called it that was fucking offensive. now you have to tell me.”

you roll your eyes.

“i was just thinking about that day. it makes my heart break that you lost someone who made you feel understood. that you felt alone, even though we were all right there. i hope you know that i find it hard to drag myself away from you sometimes. you're like the only place i want to be." you murmur.

the year before sukuna left, he got into fights often. you remember it vividly – the fact that his mom always seemed to be at your house crying to your mom, while you and yuuji lingered by the doorway for too long listening when you shouldn’t have.

and he’d shuffle in hours later, a purple eye or bloodied knuckles – a wall of silence with zero explanation.

but the worst part is that the one time he got in serious trouble, enough to constitute needing to be picked up from the police station, was cosmically the worst possible day it could have happened.

because sukuna’s grandfather was already dead when you guys got the call. you had all been phoning him for hours and unbeknownst to you, the reason he didn’t pick up is because his phone had gotten taken away. and his mom, yuuji – they were so struck in their own grief that your mom had taken you and sammy with her to go get him.

and now when you think of it – the thought of him sitting there all alone when you found him, the fact that he was sitting there feeling misunderstood made you cry. it was enough to know that you had all unleashed horrible news on him, but even worse to know you were the one to rip his grandfather away from his life.

“i remember that you were the one who told me.” he states.

you nod, affirming his memory.

“you…you were all quiet. was kind of expecting your mom to give me an earful, about being responsible for my mom and yuuji. but she was just quiet. sammy didn’t even look at me. and when i saw you, you were crying. came up right by my side and apologized. you were the first person to give me condolences. made me hot chocolate when you got home because you didn’t know what else to do.” he states.

“yeah. i wish i was more composed or…or could have at least said something better to you. and i still kind of suck with words but i…i hope this helps? at least a little?” you mumble.

sukuna leans forward, curbing any follow-up sentiment you could have had with his lips. you can still taste the strawberry. you murmur against his lips – him pulling you back in every time you try to pull away.

“did you kiss me to shut me up?” you ask.

“do you want a cookie for figuring that one out, genius?” he responds.

you lightly push his chest.

“you’re such a dickhead! let me do the whole supportive, caring girlfriend thing. i can’t just leave you hanging, you know.”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“doll face.” he deadpans.

you glare at him.

“you are perfect.”

you’re caught off guard.

“i’ve never told anyone any of that before. never even met someone i’ve wanted to tell. quit fucking worrying yourself over whether or not it was good or bad. i’m half convinced that you could be my remedy to anything.”

you can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks at the praise. you bundle the fabric of his collar in your shirt before you pull him forward, pressing your lips to his as softly as you can.

“someone feeling bold today?” he murmurs against your lips.

his hand is warm on your face, cupping the side of your cheek. and when you lean forward, the warmth that surges through you is so deep that you think you might have kissed sukuna too hard. because now you’ve backed him up against the wall, your fingers quickly rushing down the buttons of his shirt.

sukuna’s quick to stop you. hands warm on your wrists and brown eyes widened.

“what are you doing?” he whispers.

“oh. oh, i don’t know. it…it just kinda came over me. sorry. just like..felt super close to you there for a second and i felt it like…rumbling in my chest.”

sukuna’s brings his forehead against yours. his eyes are pinched shut, almost straining, his breaths quiet.

“i want to do something. but you have to tell me if it’s going to make you feel uncomfortable.” you ask.

“okay.” sukuna responds.

“don’t even think about fucking lying to me. i’ll know.”

"yeah right."

“i mean it.” you grates.

“just tell me.” he responds.

“okay, but-”

“y/n l/n.”

you pause.

“can you take a bath with me?”

he pulls back.

“what?”

“a bath. suguru gifted us these bath salt and stuff. he said it was a gift for you. told me you like that kind of thing.”

“he's always gifting some weird therapy shit to me.” he states.

"therapeutic." you correct.

“one day i’m going to curb your fucking attitude and you’re not going to like it one bit.”

you smile.

“i hate you. i’ll take my bath on my own then.” you respond.

he yanks hard on his arm.

“okay. if it's uncomfortable, we get out.”

you nod. you get in first, quickly leaing against the wall and hiding under the warm bubbles, as he follows suit. weirdly enough, sukuna's first instinct is to go to the other side, the farthest from you, but you stop by pulling on his wrist.

"c'mhere. just lean against me." you murmur.

it’s a little bit awkward at first. because sukuna's the one wound up instead of you.

“can you relax for me?” you whisper.

“right. sorry.”

he leans back, your skin prickling, as he settles his head against your chest. he's looking up at you, his eyes fixed on yours, but you can’t help but stare at his skin - freckles and moles that you’ve never had the opportunity to notice sparkling his skin.

“thank you.” he whispers.

“for?”

he scoffs.

“y/n.” he chides.

“use your big boy words!” you coo.

“shut the fuck up.”

“c’mon. you've got it in you.”

“you know what i want to say.”

“of course i do. i know you’re really glad that i have an innie belly button instead of an outie.”

sukuna nearly chokes on his spit.

“i beg your pardon?”

“i know that outies freak you out. you don’t have to say it.”

sukuna stops himself from saying it.

that he's falling in love with you.

it’s right on the tip of his tongue. but he knows that it’s too fast so he swallows it down. that and the fact that it would be fucking insane if he said that to follow up your stupid joke about inne and outie belly buttons.

“baby, we should really donate your brain to science. i think you could advance neuroscience fifty years into the future.” sukuna states.

“take that back, asshole.” you respond.

“make me.”

you yank hard on his hair, before fixing your hands back in his locks and pushing the matted wet hair off of his forehead. sukuna leaves a kiss in your hands, before he seems to wander off somewhere else, almost like he's deep in thought.

you grant him the quietness. sukuna loves you even more for it.

next part linked here

an: ICK CHAPTER BUT WHATEVER

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seeingivy · 3 months

Text

secrets

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

sukuna watches you get ready. or more appropriately, watches you try to hide your panic as you busy yourself with getting ready.

he found it interesting - the little rituals that you had. it was almost like a rehearsed routine the way you rotated in the morning, one he had committed to memory. he watches you secure your hair back, your fingers massaging different serums and moisturizers into your skin.

but there’s an increased fervor today, in the way you meticulously prod at your own skin - rubbing hard on the slight blemishes on your skin, covering up the darkness under your eyes, and brushing your hair three times to perfection.

it’s borderline obsessive. he hovers over your shoulder, before pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“don’t you think you’ve brushed your hair enough, doll? looks great.”

he watches as you run it through your hair again, muster a peachy smile for him. it doesn’t meet your eyes. sukuna starts to wonder when it was that he started getting so concerned about you, in the way that it almost never left the back of his mind.

“has to be even, sukuna. i brushed six times on the right so i have to do the same amount on the left.”

he pinches his lips together.

“seems closer to a hundred, princess. your hair is fine.” he murmurs.

sukuna watches as you give him a nod, brushing through your hair the last three times, before you swirl around in your chair and place your hands on his hips. if sukuna wasn’t so irked, he’d make a comment about the compromising position - the way you were looking up at him like you were on your knees.

you squish the bones in his fingers as he pulls you up, his demeanor increasingly reserved today. on any other day sukuna would have smothered you in fifty kisses by now - making some teasing comment about how he’d want to shower with you or make every attempt to kiss all the lip gloss off of your face.

you reach for sukuna’s tie, still loosely hanging around his neck as you eye the clock, and start knotting it together. you tighten it to his collar, pushing the buttons through their slits, as sukuna stares at you. it’s something you find him doing often, almost like he’s trying to discern your thoughts just from looking at your face.

“you okay, sukuna?” you hum.

“are you okay, y/n?”

“huh? why would you say that?”

“you said it first.” he counters.

“well, you haven’t kissed me yet today. it’s been an hour and-”

he cuts off the sentence by pressing his lips to yours, the coffee you made him still lingering on his lips. you smile into the kiss, pulling back to press a kiss to his cheek.

“didn’t realize i had to.” sukuna mumbles.

“are you stupid? that’s part of your boyfriend taxes.”

sukuna smiles, watching you tilt your head to the side and smile at him. he commits it to memory - the sweet look on your face.

“and what’s due, hm?” he asks.

“you’ve paid your fees.”

“you haven’t paid yours, pretty girl.”

you brush the fabric of his collared shirt on his shoulders, as you tuck the last of the folds in the place.

“you’re needy, you know that?”

“s’not what i meant. it’s part of your girlfriend taxes to tell me what’s bothering you.”

“just nervous to talk to yuuji, that’s all.”

sukuna would be lying if the pending approval wasn’t on his mind too. not only because he was positive that it would make you retreat from him, after he had been making every attempt to ease you into it over the past few weeks.

but the fact is that he’s always considered yuuji his savior. a silent gift sent to him, his first companion in life. it would be a sting to him if yuuji didn’t view him fit for someone special to him. that he’d think so little of him, or even worse, that yuuji could think that sukuna thought so little of you.

“you’ll come back here after?” he asks.

you nod.

“call if you need me.”

you and sukuna trek out of the apartment at the same time, both of your phones clutched in your hand as he locks up. his phone buzzes one and you flip the screen, ignoring the text from satoru and swiping away the notification to look at his lock screen properly.

it’s a picture of you and sukuna, one that you took as a joke on his phone. he’s barely in the picture - just the slightest tuft of his pink hair and one of his dimples. it’s of you - smiling brightly into the camera.

sukuna can parse that something is wrong when nobara’s voice is the one that comes through on yuuji’s phone. and when he parks outside the bar, his suspicions are confirmed when the four of you are already lingering out on the sidewalk in the cold, as opposed to the usual antics that he has to wrangle you out of.

it’s a strange sight. the first thing his eyes are drawn to are you, naturally, and he’s immediately irked by the sight of you sniffling, megumi wiping the tears from your eyes. his eyes gravitate to yuuji next, nobara yanking him down by the hair as she gives him an earful.

the smell warns him enough - that the group of you, except for megumi he presumes, have lost your inhibitions.

“yuuji. you had no right to say that to her.” nobara scolds.

“she said plenty to me too!” yuuji bites back.

sukuna makes his way over to the two of you on the pavement, ignoring the sting when your face droops even more at the sight of him. megumi’s hands are on your shoulders, rubbing circles into your back, as he quietly sits at your side.

“up. both of you” he demands.

megumi follows his instructions, holding up a hand for you, as you wipe away the wetness around your eyes and megumi opens the front door for you. you settle into the seat - embarrassment burning in your chest - as megumi crouches at the side of the door, poking his head into the car to talk.

“he doesn’t mean it. weirdly enough, this is his way of being overprotective of you.”

you scoff, before turning to megumi. sukuna lingers by the door, watching as yuuji can barely hold his own against nobara, and attempts to catch the end of your words.

“sure, megs. i’m fine.”

megumi places a hand on sukuna’s shoulder as he stands up, reaching for yuuji and nobara as sukuna switches and takes his spot. it’s a quick glance over his shoulder - yuuji entirely preoccupied - as he leans his lips close to your ear. he notices you nearly flinch at the closeness but makes no comment about it.

“need anything, pretty girl?” he whispers.

“i want you to take me home after you settle them in. i want to be alone.” you mutter.

sukuna squeezes your hand, a silent response, as megumi shuffles the two of them in the car and he releases your hand just as fast. nobara gives you a smile, albeit half hearted - having spent a better part of the last hour in your defense - as megumi takes to scolding yuuji in his ear.

sukuna gives you one last look before he shifts the gear and heads home.

sukuna’s able to wrangle the three of them faster than usual and when he returns you’re crying softly in his passenger seat, his stray hoodie strewn over your shoulders.

“home?” he asks.

sukuna takes your non-committal nod as a yes, ignores the sting for a second time when you refuse to hold his hand, and drives slowly on the quiet streets. there’s a light sheen on the roads, the street lights reflecting in the puddles and shining a red light on your face.

you can tell that sukuna’s making his best attempts to be quiet as he drops you home. he’s quick to attend to anything - not letting you open the door or take off your coat or even tuck your hair behind your ear of from your own hands.

and sukuna almost does it. he almost makes it through without interjecting. but when he watches you rub your skin a little too hard with the moisturizer, so hard that it starts turning pink, he reaches for your hands and has to stop you.

he can’t watch you rub your skin raw just because you’re frustrated.

“here. let me.” he whispers.

“but you don’t–”

“i know the order, pretty girl. i’ve watched you do it enough times.”

he watches your weary eyes as you place the next bottle in his hands, pouring the cold liquid onto his fingertips. he taps the counter with the back of his hand and you obediently jump up, the two of you face level as he takes residence in between your legs.

the mere act eases the tension for sukuna - the fact that you hadn’t dismissed him yet, that you were letting him massage the serums into your skin was an olive branch enough. whatever yuuji had said hadn’t scared you off yet - and he’ll take his win where he can get it.

“need to talk?” he asks.

you look up at him, at the focused look in his eyes, accompanied by the soft pressure of his fingertips. he squishes your cheek, before leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of your head, and you instinctively pinch your eyes shut. it makes that angry, stinging feeling in your chest twist into that sinking feeling that makes you want to cower in the darkest corner of your closet.

“how many girls have you been with?” you ask.

“in what sense?”

“all of them.”

“i’ve dated two girls, not including you. one was in highschool, a girl named kisa. the other one was when i was in europe.”

“why’d you break up with them? or them with you?”

“no, it was me. both times. kisa, because i was leaving. the girl in europe because i got bored.”

he watches your eye twitch, as he continues.

“i’ve had sex with both of them. besides that, there’s six other girls that i’ve had sex with. talked to loads more, here and there, on and off.”

“what were they like?” you ask.

“meaning?”

“like…occupation wise. or-or personality. looks.”

sukuna furrows his eyebrows.

“can’t remember much to be honest? kisa and i dated in highschool, i think she said she wanted to be something stupid like an influencer. and the other, she was in vet school. they didn’t look similar. i don’t have a type if that’s what you’re trying to discern. and if i did have one, it would be you.”

you nod.

“okay.”

“i feel the need to clarify that it was never like this with anyone else.”

“well, why do you feel the need to clarify that?”

there’s something laced in your words - either hurt or animosity - but he can’t place which one it is.

“because you’re my girlfriend? i can tell that intimacy is important to you, that what i’ve done can raise questions and-”

“are you trying to infantilize me? i know you’re older and more experienced than me but that gives you no right. i’m not a little girl.”

animosity. it was definitely animosity.

sukuna reaches for your hands, pressing your knuckles against his lips as he mumbles.

“i know you’re a big girl now.”

you glare at him. his joke doesn’t land well.

“don’t taunt me, sukuna.”

“i know you’re not a little girl. and i know you’re smart enough to not equate maturity with intimacy. it’s a good thing that intimacy is important to you – that you want to take it slow. it’s important to me when it comes to you too.”

you sigh, scrunching your eyes shut as you lean forward and rest your forehead against his chest. you can feel your head pulsating - his words, yuuji’s words, your own mixing enough to give you a tension headache. he’s quick with it, his hands in your hair as he pulls you closer, resting his chin against the top of your head.

“what did yuuji say?”

you swallow hard.

“i was trying to bring it up, nonchalantly. i…i said that you and i had been hanging out. and yuuji was like yeah, that’s fine and all just don’t go dating sukuna or something.”

you watch sukuna’s eye twitch. but his immediate thought is pleased – that you’re still standing here telling him.

“i asked why. and he brought up mazzy. said that i should be careful, not jump into things so fast since i wasn’t over it yet.”

mazzy. sukuna commits the name to memory, another piece he stows away to put together his puzzle.

“and-and i said that i had learned my lesson. i am over it. i-i’m smart enough to know my boundaries now, you of all people know that.” you whisper.

sukuna offers you a smile.

“that’s right.” he affirms.

“he asked me why i was interested in you. then i got kind of defensive and said i wasn’t, that i was just suggesting it. i asked him – why was he so opposed to the idea? is it so crazy to think that you would like me? and he said…”

you swallow hard.

“he said why would you? why would you like me when i’m the way that i am?”

“he said that?” he seethes.

“not the second part. but the way he said it. why would sukuna like you, y/n? i understood it all the same. i know you’re great and all, sukuna, but is it really that ridiculous to everyone that you would be interested in me? what’s so wrong with me that everyone feels the need to question it? he said that–”

sukuna waits for the end of your sentence but it doesn’t come – just another bout of your tears.

he tilts your face up, before pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. it’s wet, your tears brushing against the bridge of his nose and his cheeks as he nearly breathes fully into the kiss. and every time you try to pull away, he’s following you just as fast, refusing to let go. each one stings in your core.

“do you ever think you’re settling for me?” you ask.

“you wouldn’t believe what i think.”

“tell.”

sukuna shakes his head, almost like he’s embarrassed. you muster a halfhearted smile, poking the softness of his pecs as he rolls his eyes.

“y/n.” he warns.

“just…so squishy. like a stress ball.” you whisper.

“i’ll pretend like you didn’t just objectify me for your sake.”

“personification and objectification are different. and since you’re humbling yourself to date me, i might as well enjoy it.” you deadpan.

sukuna tries to temper the anger that flares through him. that you think so little of yourself. that you think so big of him – in the same vein as his parents. his isolating thought that you viewed him differently shatters. it’s aggravating.

“i’m joking. but i just mean that – we’re really different. and yuuji –”

“i don’t give a fuck what he thinks. do you?”

you sigh.

“i want you. do you think i’m not prepared to deal with what that means? that i don’t notice the things you do?”

sukuna watches your eyes go wide.

“you tend to get a little obsessive, princess. and you feel insecure more often than not. you’re far more chatty, more quick to joke when you’re emailing me rather than standing in front of my face, just because you can’t see my reaction – or more appropriately, can’t overthink my reaction – if you don’t see it. you can’t bring yourself to fully accept the fact that i like you, that i’m very very fond of you, because you think too little of yourself. you don’t tell me much – but s’okay. i’m able to figure most of it out.”

sukuna’s ability to read you to filth is enough to make your blood boil.

“other peoples’ words mean too much to you. wish you’d give mine more importance when i say there’s nothing wrong with you. s’not a problem that you and i have things to work through. you don’t have to meet any previous standards i have – any girls i’ve talked to – because you already don’t compare to them. they’d be in your spot if they did.”

it’s enough to make your heart ache.

“i can parse that me being more experienced than you bothers you. i have no intention of holding it over your head, nor does it make me feel any less attracted to you. you’re all things - intelligent, brilliant, beautiful. i have every intention to basically worship you when i get the chance – and that would stand if you were experienced or not.”

sukuna watches you shiver, the gravel of his voice making the goosebumps prickle on your arms.

“how can i be settling when you’re far too good for me? when you have such a hold on me?”

“sukuna –”

his lips hover by your ear, warm breath tickling down your spine as he murmurs. sukuna’s combined defense of whispering sweet nothings and sending sparks all over your body was never something you can win against. he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttered shut.

“ i know my brother means the world to you – that what he thinks is important – but can you make space for me too? i don’t want to compete with him for your affections or your loyalty, especially when he has no right to make that call anyways. or make you feel uncomfortable in your own happiness – if that’s what this is.”

you cup sukuna’s face with your hand.

“that is what this is.” you murmur.

sukuna presses a kiss to the palm of your hand.

“you make me really happy. i hate that i need so much support sometimes but last time, i just –”

you swallow hard.

“i get in my head a lot. i’m trying not to but it’s hard sometimes. but i like you too much. i’m not just going to give you up like that. you don’t get off so easy.”

sukuna smiles.

“ah. there’s my beautiful princess with a disorder.”

you cross your arms across your chest.

“it’s a joke, dollface. we both know you’re not royalty.”

“asshole!”

sukuna snags the headband out of your hair, before following you out to your bed.

“what do you want to do about yuuji?”

“well, what do you want to do? he’s your brother.”

“and he’s your best friend. you care what he thinks far more than i do. nothing’s going to keep me from you.”

you sigh.

“we’ll keep it a secret. tell him again when – when it’s more solid. not that it isn’t but –”

he doesn’t question it.

“when it’s more solid.” he affirms.

next part linked here

an: a wild ronnie has appeared. be nice to me pls.

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seeingivy · 2 months

Text

dinner party

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

an: what is going on in the house of commons (I do not know) MAJOR CRINGE ALERT but it's part of the lore idgaf this was a long time coming

it’s four thirty in the morning when sukuna decides to pry you from your computer.

he’s almost positive that he’s going to get pushed back, cued on by the combination of your sleep deprivation and the concerning amount of energy drinks he knows you must have consumed within the hour.

but the tangled mess of your hair and your deep, dark eye bags, have bothered him long enough – and if anything – he’s given you tons of grace for letting it go on for four days.

sukuna gets working hard. he just can’t stand by working yourself to the bone.

he finds you hunched over on the kitchen island, head down on the counter as you scribble away on your notebook – a sizable amount of ink smeared on your hands, a few empty wrappers of protein bars at your side, and your eyes barely open.

sukuna leans forward, resting his forearms on the counter, before reaching forward to push your computer shut. the sound that follows jolts you out of your concentration, to find an…almost irritated sukuna sleepily rubbing his eyes.

“hey. did i wake you up? i dropped the glass earlier by accident.” you mumble.

“you broke a glass?” sukuna asks.

“yeah. most of it is in the corner over there, i’ll swear i’ll clean it up as soon as i’m done.”

sukuna opens his eyes fully this time, to find the stacked pile of glass sitting in the little corner, sparing you a glare before reaching for the little bin. the guilt flares up in you as you watch him drag his tired body over to the side, carefully shuffling all of the little shards away into the bag,

“sukuna. you don’t have to do that. i was going to clean it up.”

“well, fuck off now. more time for you to sleep if i do it for you.” he mumbles.

you’re positive he meant to make that more domineering then it ended up being.

and it’s horrible. it’s been days since you’ve slept next to him, always climbing in as he’s climbing out to go to work – pressing a consolation kiss to his cheek before you pass out into the sheets. and now he’s up in the middle of the night, cleaning your mess just to ensure you a few more minutes of rest.

“i’m almost done with my personal statement, i just want to make sure it’s done before i send it out to-”

“your personal shit will still be there tomorrow.”

you sigh. the pulsating in your head throbs quietly, eyelids heavy and aching from the light of the screen, tiredness sagging in your bones – dragging your limbs down as you lean on one of your arms.

you still have three paragraphs left to write. your activities section could be better. you need to upload your transcripts and make sure that the letters were uploaded to the portal properly. and-

“i’m almost done, really. i was just going to come to bed and-”

“perfect! come now.”

sukuna switches sides, walking up behind you and replacing his fingers with yours on your head. he can feel the pulsating under his fingertips, noting the way you lean your head against his chest and lean back the second he starts massaging into your skin.

“you’re starting to fucking piss me off.” sukuna mutters.

that’s what he says. it sounds more like you’re starting to concern me.

“i’m coming, sukuna. just give me a few more minutes, okay?”

sukuna pulls the stool at your side, before looping both of his hands around your thighs and pulling you up into his lap. his hands are steady – holding you firmly at your sides – as he looks up at you and you dig your hands into the hardness of his collarbone.

you loop your fingers through the silver chain around sukuna’s neck, tugging on the little dog tag charm at the end to pull him closer to you. it’s a chaste kiss that you press to his lips and you you can feel him staring after – big, brown eyes peering into yours – as he kneads his hands into your skin.

you scoff.

“are you poking my butt?” you ask.

“maybe a little.” sukuna responds.

“you’re such a dog.”

“you cop a feel almost everyday. god forbid i touch my girlfriend’s butt.”

sukuna reaches forward, tucking one of the loose strands behind your ear.

“we used to be a real country, y’know? people used to touch butts all the time.”

you smile and sukuna reaches up to run his fingers over your lips, the softness mirrored on his face too. and you know that a lecture is going to follow, so you bury your hands into his messy bedhead.

“you have to fucking stop this shit.” sukuna states.

you sigh.

“i know. it’s just that once i start, i find it hard to stop. i just want to finish it all in one go.”

“you want to clean up animal shit that badly?”

you groan.

“you’re so mean, sukuna. it’s not cleaning up animal shit…”

“yeah, yeah…i’ve heard your whole healing and love for the earth and animals shit before, i know.”

you dig your hands into his scalp.

“i…i just want to make sure that i only have to apply to veterinary school once.”

“you’re being stubborn. so what if you have to try again? it’s not a big deal.” sukuna states.

“s’not about that. i just can’t afford to do it again, sukuna. it costs thousands of dollars and i’ve been saving up for so long. i’d hate to see the overtime i worked go to waste when i don’t even get in.” you murmur.

sukuna doesn’t think it through when he says it. he’s almost certain that if he had thought through it properly though, it would have been the same conclusion.

“i’ll pay for it.” sukuna states.

it’s a horrible sensation – like pins and needles in your chest.

you knew that sukuna was rich. that his family was rich.

and that in earnest, sukuna probably would pay for it without even batting an eye. it wouldn’t even be the first time that you would have taken a handout from his family – for rent, car loans, when you applied to college.

mrs. itadori was too generous. it seeped into sukuna too.

but you refuse to take handouts from your boyfriend. not when the debt you have to pay them back is already so high.

“are you crazy? you can’t just offer to pay for my vet school applications if i don’t get in anywhere this time around.”

“you know i have a job right?” sukuna responds.

“i know you have a job. but you can’t just offer it up like that! you’re acting like it’s just a five dollar iced coffee or something. it costs thousands of dollars, sukuna.”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“it’s like an investment. you can pay me back.” sukuna states.

the same line mrs. itadori uses. it never feels that way when they’re the one quietly shuffling you money in envelopes when you have eviction notices on your door that you never pay back.

“you would never take my money.” you state.

sukuna grins, before leaning forward to press a kiss to your collarbone.

“you know me so well, princess.”

you frown.

“and you expect me to take yours.” you mumble.

sukuna runs his hands through the front of your hair, before angling your down up so that you’re looking at him.

“you know i only have a stable income because of my parents, right? that’s…i had a leg up, sweetheart. didn’t have to worry about working during school – hell, i went fucking abroad just because i could.”

you glare at him.

“that’s…that’s such a copout. i can’t just take a handout from you because things are harder for me. i know that you may have had some things considerably easier but that doesn’t mean i can just…start taking your money.”

he glares back.

“considerably easier is the understatement of the year. and i have every intent to let you pay me back when you’re a cushy doctor. you’re going to buy me a new motorcycle with that money.”

sukuna watches the thought rattle around in your head.

“we’re in it for the long haul. not a big deal if i have to help you pay for vet school applications, which i won’t have to because you’ll get in, but what’s mine is yours. s’gonna be our future student loan.” he murmurs.

there’s the ghost of a smile on your face. sukuna’s fingers continue to meld softly into the hardness of your hip bones, the sensation so soothing it almost makes you keel your head back.

and you’re sure that’s part of it – the soft touch, the overexertion, the crippling fear that you’re about to graduate and not even sure what you’ll be doing next year, that you could fail and have to rely on him – that makes you start bursting into tears and stand up to wrap your arms around him.

you delude yourself for a second into thinking that’s how it could be. that maybe for once you wouldn’t have to worry about this type of thing, because he would be there to help you. that he would let you pay him back, that it would be your money.

“i can’t take your money, sukuna.” you whisper.

sukuna smiles.

“you would do it for me.”

“i wouldn’t be able to do it for you. i-i would want to but…”

sukuna frowns.

“you know money doesn’t mean shit to me right?”

you sigh.

“but it does to me. we already owe you so much and…and this can’t be another thing on the list of stuff i have to pay back.” you state.

sukuna hooks his hands under your knees, before tilting you over his back and marching his way back to the room. there’s angry grumbling under his breath, that’s fully intelligible to you and makes your breath hitch.

“why are we having this stupid fucking conversation at four in the morning? i’m not about to get into the whole logistics of marriage and shared bank accounts when you can’t even stop giggling after i touch your thighs sometimes. just chill the fuck out.”

you feel bad. but you can’t help but laugh at how stupid he sounds as he flops you flat onto the sheets – that he haphazardly mentioned marrying you – as he rummages through the closet for your pajamas. you can tell that he’s tabled it for now and you’re more than grateful as your eyelids start to heavy with sleep.

“arms up.”

you oblige as he reaches for your shirt – and lightly push him as he tangles it over your head for far too long – before pulling it straight off. there’s a wide smile on his face and you reach for his wrist to stop him.

“what’s wrong?”

not the time.

“nothing! i just….nothing, sorry.”

you take the shirt from his hands before slipping it over your head and switching into the shorts. sukuna’s always quick with things like this – closing his eyes and turning around – always waiting until you were done.

besides your momentary lapse in awkwardness when you were able to take the bath with him, you hadn’t pushed anything farther. but it was pooling in the pit of your stomach – that want to be closer to him, moving in tandem with him for something…more intimate.

you’d talk to him about it on the weekend.

“are you…sitting at the kids table?”

you look up to find a blonde girl standing against the back end of the wall, nursing a little glass of wine in her hands. you shoot the group of kids an apologetic smile before you push off the floor, rubbing the red spots in your knee from the carpet, before giving a polite smile.

“ah. i kind of lost my boyfriend…and i can’t find my friends. they were also playing the entire game wrong and it was hurting my soul a little bit.”

the girl laughs, pushing her hair behind her shoulder before extending her hand out to you.

“valid. i’d do the same thing. i’m kisa.” she states.

you swear you know her from somewhere. though the likelihood of that is probably ninety percent – there wasn’t anyone in this town who didn’t know each other.

“i’m y/n.”

“wait. y/n? are you sammy’s sister?”

point proven.

“that’s right. yeah, she’s here somewhere. our mom was invited, she’s really good friends with mrs. itadori.” you.

she hums in response, as you watch people shuffle in and out of the room. there’s a highly doctored smell of perfume in the room – billowing black dresses and shiny pearls – as all of you mom’s friends amble around the foyer taking their pictures.

mrs. itadori spent a decent amount of her time planning extravagant dinner parties. and once in a while, you had to drag yourself all the way out here to show your face with yuuji. it was hardly pleasant.

yuuji’s dad would always make a shitty comment, sammy’s ass kissing would be at its peak, and the two of you would be left to fend for the wolves.

sukuna, naturally, knew this. so he decided to attend to.

you just didn’t realize he’d be so popular. neither did yuuji and it makes your skin itch that you don’t know where he is right now. or that you can’t resolve the tension that he must be feeling – especially when it’s about sukuna.

“why are you here?”

she grins.

“i have this really hot ex-boyfriend. i was figuring he might be here tonight since he’s back in town.”

“do tell.”

“oh, he’s gorgeous. like, i don’t want to objectify men, but i literally do. he’s like attractive in a ‘i want to pour battery acid into my eyes every time he looks at me’ kind of way.”

you laugh.

“the best kind of attractive.” you affirm.

“you get me, bitch! it’s like…i don’t mean to be so crude…and i’ve already had three glasses of wine so i’m going to blame it on that…but i need to get dicked down. fuck, i’d even suck his dick if he let me. and i hate sucking dick!”

you snort.

weirdly enough, this is one of your favorite things about parties like these. or going to the bar. talking to random girls in the bathroom – finding out that it’s their bachelorette party or whatever boy problems they’re having. there’s a soft solace in other people like this – that talk so openly with strangers, with a quiet trust that you can’t really seem to place.

“weird question. why do you hate it?” you ask.

“not weird at all, honey. it’s just not very fun to do. but sometimes it is, when you can tell the person really likes it. like my ex-boyfriend, i’d suck his dick all the time just because i wanted to, just because i liked to make him feel good. and he really loved it. and some people are fucking into it, i don’t know, they love to suck dick and do that type of thing. s’all about your interests.”

you nod, mulling over her answer in your head.

“do you like sucking dick?....that sounds more crude when i say it but also i’ve been talking about it for the past twenty seconds so.” she asks.

“no! no, it’s not rude. and i asked. um, i haven’t done it before. i mean, i have or…or at least tried to but i don’t count that for…other reasons and stuff. but no, i haven’t.”

“do you want to? you’re pretty, you said you have a boyfriend right?”

you smile.

“yeah. yeah, i just…get nervous about that type of thing. we haven’t done anything yet but i feel like we might soon.”

she narrows her eyes.

“he doesn’t pressure you, right?”

along with the quiet trust, there’s always a well of concern.

“no! no, the opposite really.”

“good shit. well, don’t think about it so hard. it’ll come to you naturally. plus, when you like someone a lot, that type of stuff kind of comes with it. like my ex-boyfriend? total fucking sweetie pie. he could be standing in front of me and i’d dick him down right now if he asked. just for old times sake.”

you laugh.

“i really hope you find him. and get dicked down for your own sake.”

“he was just so fucking hot! i’ve never had a guy make me feel like that. it’s like…i couldn’t have really reached my prime at my highschool prom with a guy two years younger than me…that’s embarrassing.”

you pale. and right at that moment, sukuna walks up to you, eyes wide as he glares at you.

“what the fuck are you doing?”

“sukuna.”

you pause, the awkwardness of his name falling out of your mouths at the same time confirming your suspicions.

just your luck, her aforementioned, beautiful ex-boyfriend, is sukuna.

“sukuna! i didn’t realize you were back.”

you can feel your chest simmering. because now she’s batting her eyelashes and twirling her hair in response to him. sukuna doesn’t even spare her a second glance and instead uses it to shoot bullets at you with his eyes.

“what are you doing?”

“i didn’t know! how was i supposed to know?” you whisper.

“we all went to the same school, y/n.”

“i don’t memorize what all your ex-girlfriends look like sukuna. i have a very small thread of self-confidence and i’m hell bent on keeping it for the time being.” you respond.

sukuna doesn’t find your joke funny.

“do you guys know each other or something?” kisa asks.

“kisa. this is my girlfriend, y/n. she was best friends with yuuji, remember?” sukuna states.

she pauses for a second, before jolting up.

“ah. the little one who used to take the cheerleading pictures, right? frizzy hair, big glasses?” she asks.

you pinch your lips into a straight line.

“that would be me!” you state.

“shut the fuck up.” sukuna responds, before yanking you by the elbow into the kitchen at the side.

you spare her a last glance over your shoulder – confusion spreading over her face – followed by the seclusion to the quiet of the kitchen.

sukuna leans back against the fridge, running his hands through his hair, giving tight-lipped polite smiles through the people passing through the rooms.

“what did you talk about?”

you dig your fingers into your palm. sukuna picks up on it.

“nothing. just pleasantries and stuff. it wasn’t a big deal!”

“tell me. i can tell whatever it was is making you feel like shit.”

you take a deep breath.

“i don’t feel like shit, i just-”

“are you guys fighting about something?”

your eyes widen as you turn to yuuji, leaning against the frame of the door with his arms crossed on his chest. you muster a peachy smile, shaking your head as you walk up to his side and loop your arm through his.

“of course not. we never fight!” you state.

yuuji raises his eyebrow.

“you never fight? ever?”

“no! no, of course we fight. all the time actually.” you state.

you look over at sukuna, who starts gesturing to you with his hands – with an irritated look on his face.

what the hell are you talking about?

you gesture back, shrugging as yuuji shuffles the two of you over to the drinks, filling up the glasses.

“well, that doesn’t sound very healthy.”

you take a deep breath in.

“we don’t fight an abnormal amount. we’re like normal couples. we fight and then make up. there’s nothing weird about us actually, we’re perfect! It’s-it’s like conflict resolution and-”

yuuji laughs, before leaning closer to you and wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“who are you trying to convince? me or yourself? you’re rambling so much.”

you groan, burying your palms into your eye sockets – you’re already messing this up. royally. yuuji gives you a warm smile, one that you can see from the little gaps in between your fingers, as you cross your arms and lean against the counter. yuuji gives sukuna a small nod, as sukuna takes the spot at your side, and links his arm around your shoulder.

it feels wrong to be so openly affectionate like that. for him to pull you closer to him when yuuji’s standing right there.

you lift your shoulders slightly until he drops his hand and you shoot him a grateful smile.

“so really. what happened?”

“nothing. i was talking to kisa and didn’t realize it was kisa.”

yuuji leans his head back.

“which one is she again? the neighbor?”

you can feel a wave of discomfort, of an unnecessary defense bubbling up in your chest. he wasn’t actually talking to the neighbor – she just wanted advice on whether or not she should break up with her boyfriend.

and sukuna told her not to.

“no. she’s the girl sukuna went to prom with.” you state, brushing down the pleats of your skirt.

“ahh, that’s right. his first girlfriend.”

yuuji circles the last sip of his drink in his cup before downing it and turning to both of you at his side.

“so what the hell is he so pissed about? you can’t talk to people now?”

“he wasn’t mad. we were just talking, yuuji.”

“you looked pretty mad. and you were whispering in hushed tones.” yuuji states.

sukuna clears his throat and you can tell that he’s simmering with irritation from the way his fists are clenched and curled at his side. the animosity in his eyes does little to help too.

“i just wanted to know what they talked about and clear up anything that she might have said that might not be true. i don’t want her to get the wrong idea.” sukuna states.

yuuji rolls his eyes.

“she’s a grown woman. i think she can tell right from wrong by herself. and i’m positive that if she did say anything, it’s not anything that wouldn’t be true.”

you shove yuuji in the side.

“what’s your problem? you’re being so mean.”

“i’m not being mean! it’s just a fact. you…you know how he can be. do you really think he just changed like that?”

maybe it’s a mix of things.

that sukuna’s ex-girlfriend just spent five minutes telling you about how much he apparently loves to get his dick sucked and you have yet to muster up the courage to do it. or that your hair’s been getting consecutively oily as the night goes on and sticking to your forehead or that yuuji tends to throw some hurdle into your relationship every chance he seems to get.

or that you can’t pay for vet school so it’s time to cut back on iced coffee since you’re going to be taking a loan or that your mom’s walking around in fake pearls and someone most definitely will make a comment about it that’ll have her leaving the party crying.

or that you can never seem to win. or do anything right.

“you’re such an asshole sometimes. why do you always have to talk about him like that? do you think i’m so pathetic that he’s going to leave me for some girl he literally talked to six years ago? do you think i’m so pathetic that i’d date someone like that?” you mutter, before brushing past his shoulder and leaving the room.

sukuna can feel that irritation festering up in him and makes his best efforts to swallow it down as he turns to yuuji. sukuna debates his options – following you or beating it out of yuuji.

the second one seems more productive for the time being.

he turns and can immediately clock that yuuji feels bad – his face drooping like it would whenever sukuna would beat him in a video game or leave their board game early to hang out with his friends.

“what the hell is your problem?” sukuna asks.

the drooping is replaced with anger, an irritability as yuuji scoffs before turning around.

“what’s yours?” yuuji mutters.

sukuna reaches for his collar, shaking him from filling up his glass again, before yuuji meets his eyes again.

“no, seriously. what the fuck is your problem? why can’t you just be happy for her? we were getting along just fine before this until you decided to be a little bitch about it.” sukuna asks.

yuuji rolls his eyes. he pulls back, tussling out of his grasp before leaning against the closed door of the fridge.

“i didn’t have a problem with you. but you’re doing the same shit as before – being careless. and you’re doing it with my best friend.”

sukuna wants to punch him in the face.

“are you ever going to be satisfied with what you have? you just had to have her too? she was my friend first.” yuuji states.

sukuna doesn't know why it flares up in him - that possessiveness. you don't belong to him but you certainly don't belong to yuuji either. he doesn't get to stake a claim on you just because he knew you first.

“you sound like a pathetic child. you know you don’t own her, right? you can’t fathom that she could have someone else be special to her that isn’t you? that you can’t be a spoiled little kid and have to learn how to share?”

sukuna’s hit a nerve, though he’s not entirely sure why. but now yuuji’s crying, shoving him hard into the counter, before his pounding footsteps reside as he runs up the stairs.

there’s an immediate guilt, coupled with a resounding headache.

when sukuna makes it back to the apartment – after having dozed off for a decent amount of the train ride home – he’s thrown off when you push him against the wall the second you make it back into the house. and dig your hands under his shirt, dangerously lower than you ever have before.

“jesus. what’s wrong with-”

he can barely finish because you’re cutting him off by kissing him – almost aggressively – and latching your arms around his neck and jumping up onto his thighs. he’s quick to catch you, your legs locked around his waist as you pant into his mouth, kissing every spare patch of skin you can find.

“what are you-”

he can’t even get a sentence out.

“doing, pretty girl?”

it’s almost like you don’t hear him or something. there’s something insatiable burning in your eyes, nearly twitching with a fervor with something that he’s never really seen before.

correction. something that he’s never seen in your eyes before. he’s seen it before – hundreds of times. in the shitty bathroom in the bar, from the girl he met on the dating app, and even kisa back in the day. but not with you.

he almost hates it.

sukuna pushes you back, resting your legs against the weight of the kitchen counter before letting go and trying to pull away.

but it’s almost like you’re trying to entice him. grabbing him by his necklace and pulling him back into you, letting one hand roaming through his hair and the other underneath his shirt.

there’s an insatiable fire pooling in his stomach. but it’s the wrong timing. and it’s almost too…tantalizing, too tempting that it felt wrong.

this was not how he was going to do this with you – at least not the first time.

he was no stranger to it – the intense, all consuming feeling that came with this. a part of him even wanted it. but he wanted the other side first, that aspect of it more.

the part that he never had. the romance, the yearning, and the godawful ache.

the love making.

he had every intent to worship you the second he got, to drag it out for as long as he could. like he was a man starved, like he’d never get a chance to do it again.

and there was no way he was going to bring that out, or be able to even do that, on the heels of his argument with yuuji, after whatever it was that kisa must have said that had you so worked up.

sukuna doesn’t know what else to do. so he brings his hand up and takes a fist full of your hair – and uses it to yank you off of him. you’re panting hard, eyes nearly glazed over as you look at him and reach down this time.

reaching for the buckle of his pants. sukuna reaches for your wrists and squeezes hard.

“what are you doing?” he whispers.

you pant, before shaking your head.

“you know…” you respond, gesturing with your hands.

“i don’t know. what are you doing?” he deadpans.

you glare at him.

“you know…we’ve been dating for some time now. and we love each other…it…it’s only right to do this type of thing. don’t you want to?”

it’s that same meek look – that squirrely, almost timid way of talking. when he heard that godawful comparison for the first time, that filled him with an unappeasble rage.

lipstick on a pig.

it aggravates him to his core because he hasn’t heard it in months. that awkward, shy voice. he had gotten used to the real one – filled with a comfortable confidence. that cracked jokes and poked fun at him all the time.

the part of you that saw him like a real person.

“sure i do, princess. you know you drive me crazy, right?”

you give him a grin, before reaching back for the buckle of his belt. and for a second time, he’s quick to pull on your wrists again, before leaning his forehead against yours, his breath tickling the tip of your nose.

“no, seriously. what are you doing?”

you bite into the hardness of your cheek, pinching your eyes shut.

it’s not awkward. just say it.

“i’m trying to…suck your dick.”

sukuna takes a deep breath, using his pointer finger to angle your face back up by your chin, brown eyes overwhelmingly warm and soft as he looks at you. and it aggravates you. you know what he’s going to say.

“you…you can’t stop me, you know? i’m ready to do this. i’ve..i’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

sukuna raises his eyebrows, almost like he’s disbelieving of what you’re saying, before he talks.

“okay, angel. can you just kiss me first?”

you feel your cheeks burn.

“what?”

“i’m okay with it if you want to. i just want you to kiss me first.”

you laugh, before cupping the side of his face and rubbing over the soft indent of his dimple.

“are you being serious? you’re not like…copping me out right?”

sukuna glares at you.

“i just fucking asked you to kiss me. you just pounced on me like a fucking lion out of nowhere.”

you bring your hands to his cheeks and can’t help but smile into his face.

“why are you…so cute? you just want me to kiss you?”

sukuna wrinkles his nose in disgust, before reaching forward to pinch the sensitive skin on your arm.

“you fucking ruined it. now you’re never sucking my dick.”

you snort.

“well…technically i did kiss you. just really aggressively.” you mumble.

sukuna’s laugh is soft, almost quiet as he leans forward to press a kiss to your hair.

“kiss me properly. i’m not going anywhere. i…i want to savor it.”

you swallow hard, as he takes over the open space in between your legs, and leans forward. his hair is tickling your forehead, your breaths slow as you cycle in tandem, and you loop your arms around his torso.

there’s a small amount of desperation in the way that sukuna kisses you, a burning that ignites over your skin and makes your stomach drop to your core. but it’s almost like he’s slowing you down, curbing that feeling in your chest – by ubbing circles into your back, a contentment in his demeanor – that you’re cued into by the way he’s smiling into the kiss.

that’s when you realize.

“you’re not going to let me do it, are you?” you murmur, whispering against his lips.

“perceptive.” sukuna mumbles back, before pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

you groan, which has the smallest of laughs bubbling out of him. it’s free of any teasing – that you’re positive of as he lifts your hands to his lips and presses a kiss on each of your knuckles.

“i like the rings. wonder what your hands would look like around my…”

“well, now you’re just being fucking annoying.”

“i’m joking.”

you sigh, leaning your cheek against his shoulder, as you blink hard.

“why not?”

as quickly as that quiet, squirrely voice came back, it’s almost like he decimated it in his hands with a few seconds. if this were months prior, it would have taken him weeks to convince you that he still liked you.

you had stopped viewing his actions as swift rejections, as slights against you, and started taking them for what they were.

sukuna was going to kill yuuji for trying to shit on your relationship later. you were meant to be together, that much was obvious.

“yuuji and i kind of…fought. i want to be in the right mood when we do this.”

you lean forward, cupping his cheeks in your hands.

“you know, he’s starting to really make me mad. he should just leave us alone if it pisses him off that much and-”

“i said more than he did. it’s my fault. i’ll apologize tomorrow.”

you shake your head. and there’s an awkward silence, before sukuna asks.

“so what did she say? i know that didn’t come out of nowhere, even if you were thinking about it before.”

you groan, digging your face into his neck.

it’s almost embarrassing now.

“she was there to see you. wanted to get dicked down by you. and mentioned that apparently you really like having your dick sucked? i don’t know…i just…had a long week. vet school and my mom and yuuji and…and you. figured i’d at least relieve some tension and give you what you wanted. like two birds in one stone type of thing.”

“please don’t refer to sex as a stone.” sukuna deadpans.

you laugh and it makes sukuna smile.

“the only thing i want is you.”

you sigh.

“ugh! i’m…i’m so annoyed because i actually know that. if you were going to get up and leave you would have done it by now because it’s been months but i just…felt so stupid or like undercooked or something because we haven’t done it yet that i just-”

“do you feel like you have something to prove?”

you bite your lip.

“i guess. it’s about you but…but it’s about other stuff too. i want to be strong enough to do it. i don’t want to let bad experiences hold me back when you’re obviously a good guy and obviously good in bed but-”

sukuna smirks.

“obviously?”

“you’re so annoying.”

sukuna wraps his hands around your cheeks, before pulling you up to look at him. and practices the way he’s worded this in his head a hundred times, hoping that it comes out right.

“angel?”

“yeah?”

“about what you said. about other stuff.”

it’s almost like you’re a kicked dog, trying to retreat after he mentioned it.

“i don’t want to push you into telling me. and you don’t have to. i can…i can piece some of it together. but i just need to know what not to do. i’ll never forgive myself if i ever hurt you, especially if it’s something regarding this.”

he leans his forehead against yours, his voice so quiet that it makes your chest ache, with overwhelming, sincere love of his consideration for you.

“i’m sorry it happened to you. you don’t even have to tell me. write me a list or send me an email. i just need to know what’s off limits, anything that could possibly…remind you of anything that happened to you.”

you angle your face back up, leaving a lingering kiss on his lips before pulling back.

“are you tired?” you ask.

he leans back, in confusion.

“no?”

“then, i’ll tell you right now.”

sukuna’s eyes widen.

“i’m not trying to pressure you.”

you smile, before linking your hands into his.

“i know. you’re not. i’ve been thinking about how to talk to you about it. and one of the biggest hurdles is…having to address that it happened? but if you already know…all i have to do is tell you now. and…”

you sigh.

“and it’s you. i feel safe enough to tell you about it but just…just don’t be weird about it?”

sukuna reaches forward, crossing a little x shape onto your chest. you tilt your head to the side, in confusion.

“what was that?”

“crossing your heart. like the promise?”

“you’re supposed to cross your own heart.”

sukuna glares.

“i’m not going to spell it out for you. you’re smart enough to figure it out.”

it takes a few seconds, but you reach the conclusion.

sukuna crossed your heart instead of his. he made the promise on yours, because yours was more important than his own – enough to make an oath on.

yours over his.

it’s the only reason you’re able to muster enough courage to even tell him what happened in the first place.

next part linked here

an: ladies and gentleman, we cringe. (this was a long time coming but it's for plot purposes)

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seeingivy · 2 months

Text

obsessions

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends (older brother) series

previous part linked here

sukuna always considered himself an entirely different entity, especially when he was comparing himself to you. labels were something he learned quick and fast – that he was gifted, that he was juvenile, that he was his mother’s angel boy, but he could never seem to do right by her, or anyone else for that matter, besides it.

he doesn’t understand it. sukuna wasn’t quite gifted, school just seemed to be something that functioned without requiring any effort from him. that the connections formed in his head, that he was athletic, that people just wanted to be around him.

that deep down, he wished he could have had the struggle, something that would help him relate to his peers – just so he could be a little bit more touchable. a little more human.

that sometimes without explaining, he would have this tensing energy in him, that always culminated in him pulling a girl’s hair or punching one of his classmates when they made him too angry. that sometimes it was the only way he could relieve that tension that had been building for days.

that he was an angel boy to his mother, who was too spineless to stand up for her sons, and instead left him to do it for the group of them. it didn’t matter if he was eleven, if he was cowering in fear or sixteen and grieving, because someone had to stand at the plate and he had to be the one to do it when no one else would.

that despite the selflessness it took, it made him angry. that deep down, as an eldest son, as an older sibling – he should have been overjoyed. he should have been happy that no one else did it for him, because it meant he was spared the pain.

he should have been glad he got to protect them. that at the end of the day, it was his job.

but no matter how hard he tried, it would still never be enough. the expectations were high and he would never be tall enough to reach them.

it’s why it sends him into a spiraling hole when he fails to deliver for you. quite possibly, the only person he’d want to fill that role for.

“sukuna?”

“hm, dollface?”

he watches as you pace around the room, clasping your necklace around your neck, and smiles at the light pink ribbon in your hair.

“were you able to wash my sweater? the pink one?” you ask.

sukuna bites hard into the softness of his cheek, the pit in his stomach rolling in waves.

the pink sweater, for valentines day.

he walks closer to you, as you plate the little heart shaped cookies and grab your bouquet of flowers as you look up at him, expectantly. there’s a certain franticness in your demeanor, like you’re ready to bolt out the door in his old college sweatshirt that you were wearing over your skirt without giving it a second thought.

there’s pink glitter smeared over your eyelids, a sweet flowery smell from your freshly sprayed perfume, and a white ribbon in your hair – you’re so perfect and it makes him feel like a failure.

“baby, i’m so sorry. i can go throw it for a wash right now.” he murmurs.

you wince.

“honey. i’m already running late.” you groan.

you shake your head, locking your phone as you place your cold hand on his cheek and press a kiss to his skin.

“no problem, s’my fault anyways. i’ll yank something from kugi’s closet and see you after bestie-tines, okay?”

sukuna gives you a halfhearted nod, something you don’t notice as you rush out to your little party, and he can’t help but feel his heart sink.

there’s only one reason that sukuna’s able to read you so well – so keen, so aware about how obsessive you can really be.

it’s because he’s the same way.

for you, the comments regarding your looks, the perceived slights of awkwardness you seem to experience, they send you tumbling. make you meticulously brush your hair multiple times, vigorously rub your skin till its nearly pink.

and for him. the small things he fails at, that he can never seem to do anything right – by his parents, his brother, his beloved girlfriend.

it nearly drives him crazy. and makes it unable for him to stop.

bestie-tines is a simple tradition that was established three years ago, on february 13th.

valentine’s day, originally, was always a day that you and yuuji reserved for one another. it started out simple – that the two of you could bond on this holiday, be a soft place for each other when other people couldn’t.

it was always your friends – who felt smarter, prettier, more intelligent and more interesting than you. it was like there was a secret, that there was something fundamental about them that you lacked. that you could pin it to that inherent thing that you would never really possess, which is why you always ended up alone on this day.

or begging for a text back.

and for yuuji. it was the teasing comments. from his dad, a classmate, something said in passing that would never leave his mind. and really, the deep rooted despair – that this holiday, in its entirety, would never be one that he would get to enjoy. that even if he was happy, he wouldn’t ever be normal, that maybe he’d always get a weird look or turn a head just for being how he was.

and when kugisaki came along, it was nearly perfect. you’d each plan a little activity together. you’d get the two of them to bake with you – or more appropriately, stick their fingers into the batter and watch you bake – and kugisaki would make you participate in some ear-splitting karaoke.

yuuji always liked the warmth of it all, that you’d both fall asleep on his shoulders halfway into the stupid rom-com he picked, and that in the confined walls of his room, he could pretend for one second that things weren’t as they were.

and years later, megumi was added to the bunch and by translation, whichever girl nobara seemed to be talking to at the time, ended up tagging along too.

it dampens the mood a little bit. that yuuji and megumi will be holding hands and making the batter together – in a way that seems entirely romantic and antithetical to what the point of bestie-tines was. and nobara’s partners were always in that stage, that stage of talking where the chase became so intoxicating, that other people didn’t seem to exist anymore.

it didn’t bother you much. the underlying theme was still there – and being the person barring partners from a valentine’s day event seemed to be too pathetic of a hole to crawl into.

yuuji swings the door open after your first knock, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a swift kiss to your cheek. you nearly cowering at the touch and wiping the wetness away from your cheek.

“i haven’t seen you in forever, dude. where have you been?” yuuji asks, nearly pulling you in by the arms and taking the little platter from your hands.

you tuck the ends of your hair behind your ears, giving side hugs to both nobara and megumi as you respond.

“just around. you know. senior year, thesis stuff.”

“i feel like i could usually find you holed up in the library somewhere. d’you find some new secret spot that you aren’t telling me about?” yuuji asks.

yes. your brother’s apartment.

and you would tell him – you have every intention to let all of them know that you were dating sukuna by the end of the night, because at this point, it was almost stupid not to.

because really, at the core of it, it’s not like you're embarrassed of him. actually quite the opposite.

and it’s not that yuuji can police who you date. and if it’s something that makes you happy, it should be something that makes them happy too.

and deep down, you know it will. that the fact that you were finally, almost being rewarded with what you were given – someone who was patient, was understanding.

someone who would be able to love you.

“university of reading? who goes to the university of reading?”

you look down at your sweatshirt, biting down on your cheek, as you give megumi a peachy smile.

“sukuna did. like back in the day.” yuuji answers, halfheartedly, into the conversation as he and maki, nobara’s guest for this bestie-tines, set up the karaoke machine.

megumi gives you a weird look, before leaning against the counter and nobara joining you at your side. she leans her head against your shoulder, one of the little heart shaped cookies trapped in between her lips, as she mumbles through the crumb.

“are they stale? i had to make them yesterday.”

“nope. s’perfect.”

you hum in response.

“are you bringing anyone, y/n?” maki asks, flipping all the little strobe lights on the little machine.

“oh-”

“y/n doesn’t bring anyone to bestie-tines.” yuuji answers, unwrapping the coil of the microphone.

“our little baby. y’know, she’s always the bridesmaid, never the bride.” nobara states, pinching the side of your cheek before she reaches forward to flip in through the little catlog of songs.

you pinch your lips into a straight line – swallowing down that acidic feeling in your throat.

the jokes don’t work the same anymore. not that you were going to be sukuna’s bride, but the implication is entirely different.

and maybe the phrasing was a little weird. it’s not like you would never bring someone to bestie-tines, it’s just that it had to be someone who was an established partner of yours. and at the core of it – it was always about friends, not romantic partners, and you never felt the need to front.

not that you would ever say that. it almost felt wrong to – to police something for yuuji when what he got to experience, at least in the romantic sphere in public, was always going to be met with some level of scrutiny.

but it was always wrong. what you used to reach for – lipstick on a pig, always an angel never a god, the poet but never the poem.

but…but it didn’t ring true. at least not anymore.

and it goes fine and well. yuuji – and a megumi who takes a little convincing – sing lover and nobara gives you her annual loving serenade to the song one less lonely girl.

and it all comes crashing down when they ask you to sing all by myself by celine dion.

“oh, c’mon. you sing it like every year! it’s like your anthem!” yuuji whines, pressing the microphone into your hand.

you shake your head, bringing your hands up in protest.

“no singing from me this year. i’ve retired.”

“dude, it’s like a tradition!” nobara adds, a hand lazily slung over maki’s shoulder.

you swallow down the retort. that actually, the tradition was that ALL of you sang all by myself together. not you alone, while they sat there and watched you. and that you all baked the cookies together, not you alone the night before in your apartment.

“not this year!” you respond, getting a resounding group of boo’s before maki takes her place.

if they really cared about traditions, megumi and maki wouldn’t be there right now – they’d celebrate tomorrow. on valentine’s day, like intended.

yuuji comes out at your side, megumi distracted by recording the god awful mess coming out of maki’s mouth, and places his hands on your shoulders – leaning his chin right against the top of your head.

“you okay?” he asks.

“mhm.”

yuuji pauses, before digging his fingers into your muscle and forcing you to spin around to look at him. it’s gives you a weird twinge for a split second – how similar he looks to sukuna – before you muster your best smile for him.

“we’re good, right?”

“yeah! yeah, of course. still on for friday?”

“yeah.”

you hum in response, the two of you giving each other tight lipped smiles in the awkward silence, before yuuji leans against the counter, the two of you watching maki and nobara make their attempts to strangle megumi.

“maybe next year we can keep bestie-tines to just you and me.” yuuji states.

you frown.

“no! no, it’s always fun with the group. plus, it’s nobara’s karaoke machine. doubt she’d let us use it without an invite.”

yuuji smiles in response, an airy laugh leaving his lips. he leans his head against yours, his cheek smushed against your head before squeezing you hard.

“i like the group too. but, we rarely get any me and you time anymore. so, just our thing. i can live one day without megumi.”

you grin.

“i find that hard to believe. and don’t worry. i’m really not upset or anything, you-you don’t have to change plans and stuff. i just…didn’t want to sing the song. for my own reasons.” you state.

yuuji gives you a nod.

“yeah, i know. but still – just feel like i barely know what’s going on with you anymore. what rom-com are you going to watch tomorrow?”

this is your segway.

yuuji knows that you always spend valentine’s day the same way. that you make the ten minute sheet valentine’s day cookies, light your peony and rose candle, and pick a rom-com before you head to bed early.

“ah. i’m having an early brunch before class.”

“fancy. it’s always nice to treat yourself.” yuuji states.

you bite your tongue.

“yeah, yeah it is. but…i’m going with my boyfriend.”

yuuji leans off of your body, eyes pinched in confusion as he looks down at you. the rolling wave of embarrassment, of nerve-wracking doubt courses through you.

“you have a boyfriend?”

you swallow hard.

“yeah. um, we’ve been seeing each other since after christmas. he’s um…really good to me and stuff. i really like him – well actually i told him i was falling in love with him and he said he was too and-”

“woah. that’s kind of fast.” yuuji states.

“yeah. but, i’ve also known him for a long time, so…so we kind of skipped some of that like – are you a murderer? talking stage.” you state.

“the odds are low, but never zero.” yuuji jokes.

the two of you laugh, as you dig your nails into the hardness of your palm.

“you should have brought him. though in hindsight, that probably would have scared him off.” yuuji states.

“it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before though. but i couldn’t exactly bring sukuna here without telling you first. or everyone else too.” you murmur.

yuuji pauses, before fully turning to face you.

“you…you’re dating sukuna?”

“yeah. that’s where i’ve been, i guess. he gave me a key to his apartment since mai is mai and i just kind of stay there a lot.” you state.

yuuji’s nodding, like he’s rolling over the information on his mind.

the immediate hesitation, the silence – it speaks volumes.

he doesn’t approve.

“is he going to come on friday?”

“no. not if you don’t want him to.” you state.

“yeah. s’just…the mix of the parents. and him and you and sammy stuff. just give me a second to get used to all of that.” yuuji states.

you bite down on your cheek.

“you’re okay with it?”

yuuji smiles, the sentiment not meeting his eyes.

“not like that’s going to stop you, right?” he asks, an almost jeering tone in his voice.

“yuuji.”

“i’m kidding! if he makes you happy, then good for you. just don’t want it to change things between us. don’t go forgetting all about me because you have him.”

that’s rich coming from him.

“of course. you and me, first. always.”

yuuji gives you an affirmative nod, before pushing off the counter and leaving you alone.

you’re tipsy when you get on the train. and by the time you’re pushing the key through sukuna’s doors, the tears that have been streaming down your face for the past twenty minutes are obstructing your vision.

you’re not sure when it was that you started crying. somewhere between fifteenth street and your stop and that overwhelming feeling with no real source – of the embarrassment, the bleakness, the disappointment – it’s enough to bring everything coming to a head.

and the thing that pushes you right over the edge is the fact that you can’t slide the key into the lock. it's so frustrating that you give up and lean against the door, the wood of the frame surely indenting your forehead as you heavily pant.

after five minutes, you nearly collapse into sukuna’s arms when he opens the door you were leaning your entire weight against. he’s fast with it, his hands at your sides holding you up against him.

“jesus fuck, y/n. i thought someone was trying to break in.” sukuna utters.

you instinctively wrap your arms around his frame, burying your face into the warmth of his neck. you can tell that he’s confused by the gesture – his arms not coming up around yours immediately.

“sorry. didn’t mean to scare you.” you sniffle, leaning your burning eyelids against his cold skin.

“are you crying, doll?”

“maybe a little.”

your voice comes out all muffled against his shirt, as he wraps his hand around your neck and lolls your head back with his fingers. the sparkly glitter is spread all over your face now, accompanied with black streaks running down your cheek.

sukuna immediately frowns, thumb rubbing against the wetness as his eyes soften.

it nearly makes you start crying all over again.

“do you want me to kill someone?” sukuna jokes.

sukuna can see the smallest makings of a smile on your face.

“your key hole. i couldn’t open the door.” you whisper.

“done. fuck the door.”

sukuna watches as you laugh, bringing the palms up to your face as you wipe away at your cheeks. he watches as you eye the mess of glitter on your hands, trying to wipe it away, before you look back up at him.

“you smell like detergent, sukuna.” you murmur, wrinkling your nose.

his eyes go wide, an almost pink flush creeping up his neck as he shakes his head. he tries to change the subject

“why are you crying?”

you heave, the tiredness sitting in your limbs as you frown at him.

“sukuna, honey. i’m really tired and i…i just want to get into bed. just tell me why you smell like you rolled around in the laundry detergent for an hour.”

you watch as sukuna pinches his lips in a line, before bring his hands down to lock them with yours. he lifts them briefly just to press a kiss on top of your knuckles, his eyes downcast, before he murmurs against them.

“let’s get ready for bed. i’ll tell you, okay?” he murmurs.

you give him an affirmative nod, the two of you shuffling around each other in the bedroom and bathroom as you wordlessly go through your routines. the two of you brush your teeth together, sukuna pulling a piece of floss for you, and sukuna carefully helps you change without sparing a second glance.

the smell of detergent is almost worse in the bedroom – overwhelming at first before your nose adjusts and you crawl under the sheets with sukuna. you watch as he swipes his shirt over his neck with one hand, necklace hanging loosely around his neck, as he digs one of his arms underneath you.

sukuna leans over to your side, as he reaches for your hair and he twists one of the loose strands in his fingers.

“your stupid thing didn’t go well?”

you sigh.

“no. i told yuuji i was dating you. guess it wasn’t the reaction i was expecting.”

“you told him?”

in the pale light, your eyes having adjusted to the darkness, you reach forward and press your fingers against his dimple.

“course i did. i’m serious about you…and i don’t want to hide that.”

sukuna can feel the sweet ache blooming in his chest, his eyes nearly squinting with a soft joy.

“i just feel like it’s weird. i think they got used to my whole…personality being that guys treat me bad, that my love life is lame that…maybe they don’t know what to do when that doesn’t apply anymore.” you murmur.

your palm is flesh against sukuna’s lips and he uses it as an opportunity to press a kiss to your skin.

“and it’s not just them, i guess. i feel that to some extent too. i feel like…i held onto everything that happened and that it became a part of me. but now that i have no reason to feel that way and sometimes it feels like i don’t know anything. i don’t know what music to listen to because the sad songs don’t really hit anymore. spending time alone isn’t a curse, it’s actually really enjoyable sometimes. and it’s weird to try to figure out who i am when i’m not sad, especially when it feels like…people might not like me if i change.”

it comes out quietly when sukuna says it.

“i’ll love you regardless.”

you hum in response, the words making your chest ache, as you lean forward and tuck yourself into his arms. you bring up one of your hands to his bare pecs and squeeze and you can hear the disdain in his scoff as you can’t help but quietly giggle.

“i’m going to break your hands if you do that again.”

“just so comforting, y’know? really helps me feel better.”

“right. me telling you i’ll love you forever pales in comparison.”

you smile.

“you said you’ll love me regardless. like you will, in the future. now you’re saying you’ll love me forever, which kind of insinuates that you do right now.”

sukuna rolls his eyes, one of his warm hands enveloping your cheek.

“do you want to hear me say it, brat?”

you grin.

“maybe a little.”

your heart beats faster as you wait in anticipation, for the three words leaving his lips.

“i love you, pretty girl.”

sukuna watches as you smile wider, the sweetness in your face as you press a kiss to his lips. he can feel you smiling into him, your hands featherlike around his neck as you pull him closer.

“i love you too, stinky.”

“you ruined it.” sukuna groans.

you press your cheek against his shoulder, before you mumble again.

“now tell me what happened with you today?”

sukuna groans, before ghosting his hands under your his shirt.

“princess.”

“you could never say anything that i’d find weird, y’know? i’m never going to pass judgment on you, i just want to know so i can help you if need be.” you whisper.

sukuna gives you a quiet nod, before talking.

“i took every piece of clothing you had here and threw it in the laundry.” sukuna states.

“huh?”

that had to have taken hours. you’ve nearly transferred your entire wardrobe over here at this point.

“you…you asked me to wash the sweater for your party. and i know that you take time to pick out your outfits and match your accessories and, and themed parties like this are like your shit or whatever.”

his voice gets quieter.

“i’d hate to think i ruined something for you, y/n.”

“sukuna. it’s just a shi-”

“it’s not just a shirt to me. because i’ll forget to wash your shirt but then i’ll be to tired to help you do dishes. won’t be able to tear myself from work to pick you up from school when you ask. forget to respond to your emails and become neglectful. i’d hate to have you be disappointed at me when i can’t do these things for you.”

you’re quiet. you can tell that there’s something he’s trying to say, at the tip of his tongue, but he won’t let it go.

“c’mon, baby. keep going for me?” you whisper.

the gentleness in your voice feels like a promise. and maybe if there wasn’t something so intoxicating about baring himself to you, giving you his secrets to keep, he wouldn’t be so keen on doing it all the time.

“i’ve disappointed my mom time and time again. been able to mediate fights between her and my dad, but barely control my temper at school. and yuuji – i know he needed me, but sometimes i was…it was too much for me that i couldn’t do it for him. i’ve failed them in more ways than one and i can’t do that with you. you…you have to be the exception when it comes to this.”

the desolate tone in his voice is nearly enough to bring tears into your eyes as you tuck his head into your neck, his breaths labored, as you run your hands through his hair.

“i…i can’t promise you that it won’t be weird. when i get like this, my mom would almost get pissed sometimes because i’d try to do everything to make it up to her. open the door for her, answer her phone. one time i even tried to make her drink water while i held the glass. i-i know it’s weird but i-”

you dig your fingers into his scalp, feeling the pulsating near his temple.

“okay, sukuna. i’ll be more than thankful if you decide to help me with the little things. but, sweetheart. please don’t think you have some debt against me. you don’t owe me anything.”

“i know it’s not a normal habit and i-”

“that’s not what i meant, sukuna. i know that you’re aware of that. but…but just let me say these things till they sink in for you, okay? you’re my boyfriend and that doesn’t mean you have to be the end all be all. i can wash my own shirts here and there and help you out too. i love that you want to be helpful honey, but lean on me too, okay?”

sukuna feels small. not in the infantile, reductive kind of way. in the rare kind of ways he’s felt only a handful of times. like when he got sick and his mom had to take care of him. or when yuuji had to help him out by carrying his books after he broke his arm.

“what’s that weird shit you told me about once? about the little you inside you or whatever?”

“oh. an inner child?”

“yeah.”

“what about it?” you ask.

“you just kind of…remind me of it sometimes.” sukuna states.

“in a good way or a bad way?”

sukuna smiles.

“good. sometimes i forget that’s in there. s’nice that you see that part of me. bring it out of me sometimes.”

the earnestness almost makes you cry. you love him so much.

“me too, baby.”

next part linked here

an: no one look at me. this is for me and me only. (the headspace goes crazy at the current moment) the next chapter gives me second hand embarrassment but also its for the plot so im excited

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seeingivy · 4 months

Text

intimacy

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends older brother fic

previous part linked here

sukuna wakes up three hours later to the bright light of your phone, and more distinctively, your right hand in his hair, brushing his pink locks away from his forehead. he blinks the sleep out of his eyes properly to find you sitting criss crossed within the sheets, hunched over on your phone, with your face scrunched up in frustration.

he half considers not broaching why you’re awake at this hour just to ensure that your touch wouldn’t cease. that you’d continue tangling your fingers with his hair.

“what’s your problem?” he asks.

you retreat your hand from his hair, wincing as you mumble out your apology. sukuna muses that you were almost getting too predictable.

“did i wake you up?” you ask.

sukuna scoots closer to you on the bed, before lifting one of your legs to readjust himself. he’s settled himself right in between the softness of your thighs, before he reaches for your hand again and sets it back into his hair.

you swallow commenting on how needy he is as you comb through the tresses of his hair, noting how he seems to soften into your legs the more pressure you apply.

“what’s so important on your phone that you’re interrupting my sleep?” he mumbles.

“sorry. was just texting megumi. i was supposed to call yuuji when he got home but it kind of slipped my mind.” you respond, before setting your phone down into the sheets and placing your other hand into his hair too.

“something distracting you?”

sukuna grins as he flips over, lifting his head to rest his chin against your stomach. he places a kiss to your clothed skin before giving you a sleepy smile.

“clearly.” you respond.

“he’s okay?”

“yeah. i’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“nothing i could help him with i suppose. no one understands shitty older siblings like the two of you.”

you tense underneath him, enough for him to wish he minced his words. sukuna knew that broaching any part of that, of something almost sacred between yuuji was something he couldn’t push you on. though it wasn’t hard to deduce - your horrid attempts at whispering in the kitchen weren’t lost to him.

“hey. he loves you. it’s not like that.”

“what was it he said? sitting all high and mighty?”

you sigh, and enough for sukuna to properly open his eyes and sit up.

“i’m joking.” he adds.

sukuna can tell his words aren’t enough. it usually takes very little, a mix of sweet talking to settle you down, which makes him happier than he can admit. only because it indicates to him that his words can hold so much weight, especially to you.

“i mean it. you guys are well past that. have been since you came back.” you murmur.

sukuna knows that you’re right. that despite the fact that yuuji never talked to sukuna in the four years he was gone, despite his best efforts to reach out, their relationship was nearly repaired the second he made it back to tokyo. and it means more since the two of them getting along would mean something to you now.

sukuna left when he was sixteen and made his best efforts not to regret it now.

behind everyone’s backs, he had taken an early exit out of his required schooling and applied to a four year boarding school in europe. he had only dropped the news to everyone five days before he left, in efforts to not let the crippling sense of servitude he felt towards his family hold him back.

“were you mad i left?” he murmurs, pushing up on his elbows, his breath tickling your neck.

“no.”

“did you miss me?” he asks.

it’s a selfish question. sukuna knows that the answer should be no. that it is no. but he’ll pretend your honey sweet answer, laced with a lie, is true for the night. that you’ll tell him exactly what he wants to hear - that you thought of him constantly when you left.

“i was sad you left without saying goodbye. but i was too busy worrying about my own sister and all that.”

sukuna can tell the answer is honest. and it’s satiating enough to know that you had noted it, that you were hurt that he hadn’t given you more importance before he made his escape. that you wanted to be important to him.

“is that why you haven’t told yuuji? that we’re dating? breaks some secret pact you both have?”

you smile.

“are we dating?” you whisper.

sukuna lightly pushes you over, before leaning on top of you and nuzzling his face into your arms. his legs are tangled to the side, his pressure soothing on your chest.

“are you seeing other guys i don’t know about?” he asks.

“of course.” you joke.

sukuna brings his hand down on your neck, his one hand sliding around the length of your neck. he squeezes slightly and you feign choking before he rolls his eyes.

“shut up, brat.”

“well. you never asked. you can’t just decide we’re dating.” you state.

“i won’t ask.” he mumbles.

“ask.” you prod.

“no.”

“ask me!”

“i already decided we were dating a long time ago. catch up.”

you figure that if sukuna can test you, push your buttons to get what he wants, so can you. and you imagine that it’ll be infinitely easier, that it’ll take less work from you when he’s barely awake. you bring your hands around his cheeks, before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“please?” you whisper.

sukuna groans.

“be my girlfriend.” he states.

“that’s not asking.”

“y/n.”

“c’mon.” you prod.

he glares at you.

“be. my girlfriend.” he repeats, more sternly.

“cute. but no.” you respond.

sukuna glares for three seconds and you cave.

“sorry! i’m sorry. fine. i was just messing with you so i’d feel better.” you respond, to which he releases his gaze.

he pauses.

“do you need to feel better?”

“hm?”

if you’re upset, that’s certainly one thing he can fix.

“do you need me to make you feel good?” he asks.

it’s something that’s been on your mind, more frequently than not. and it lingers for too long, that feeling that you’re denying him something, that there’s something he’s waiting for that you haven’t yet delivered.

yuuji talks. so does megumi. and the two years of highschool that you got with sukuna were enough.

sukuna was always an overachiever, as he so poignantly coined it. he was smart. smart enough to graduate early even, to get into an exchange program and get out of the suburbs. he was athletic, his attitude towards teachers was viewed as charming rather than plucky, and obviously he wasn’t short of being attractive, of having girls interested in him.

you distinctly remember his first school dance when you were a eighth grader. or more importantly, that sukuna was dressed up in a tux, having his tie fixed by his mom while you and yuuji quietly watched him attend the senior prom. as a sophomore.

yuuji mentioned that sukuna always seemed to be sleeping around, something corroborated by the fact that he was almost always talking to a different girl almost every time you saw him. megumi thought he was trashy even.

but here he was, being patient, being painstakingly patient, that it only felt right. that you had to reward him for it.

“okay. sure.”

sukuna’s fully awake now, his eyes meeting yours as you feel a shiver go down your spine.

“are you okay with this?”

“yeah. yeah, i am.”

“and you’ll tell me to stop if you stop being okay with it?” he states.

you give him a nod, slightly embarrassed that it was something he had to confirm. like he knew you were going to chicken out of it.

“i need to hear you say it.” he whispers.

“i will.” you mumble.

you’re almost positive that sukuna doesn’t do this with every other girl he’s been with - something confirmed in your mind by the fact that sukuna’s so gentle, his touch is so perfect, that you feel you’re never going to be able to let go of him. and can’t imagine that other people have let him slip out of his grasp.

it’s not too different from the other times sukuna’s touched you - something he tends to always be doing. he’s more affectionate than you expected, for someone who was so reserved, so stern in almost every memory you have of him.

but he uses endearments, pet names almost every time he talks to you - currently whispering words that make your entire body heat up, almost more than his hands on you.

“my pretty baby’s so wound up. let me fix that for you, hm?”

his words were almost enough to make your entire body heat up more than his hands. key word, almost. but there was something about his touch, so soft, firm in different places that it made you nearly limp in his arms.

his hands were in your hair, on your legs just to pull you closer to him, resting on your cheeks when he kissed you. your predictions suggested to you that sukuna would have bored out, tired from just kissing you when you had given him full permission for the first time, but he wouldn’t let up, making it a point to kiss every patch of skin he could.

it’s only then that it occurs to you that you haven’t touched him. you lift your hands, before freezing them in the air, unable to do it. but the shifting is enough to make sukuna stop.

“you still okay?”

“yeah. yeah, i was just-” you respond, catching your breath as he smiles.

“your hands were up. you can push me off if it gets to be too much.” he whispers, pulling back.

“no. no, i was…i was going to touch you. just got shy for a second…”

sukuna grins at you, before leaning his forehead against yours. he tries his best to ground himself in the moment, realizing he was going too fast, getting too carried away too quickly.

he can smell the remnants of your shampoo in your hair, focusing in on it, before he settles both of his hands into the crooks of each of your elbows.

“you can touch me.” he murmurs.

“okay. you-you’ll stop me right? if you feel weird?” you ask.

sukuna laughs.

“i can’t imagine i’d ever do that, but yes. i will stop you.”

you give him a satisfied nod, as you reach forward and scoot into his lap. his hands instinctively reach for your waist, holding you steady, as you inspect his tattoos in the dim light of the dark.

you reach forward and trace your fingers all the way down. you had only seen them peeking out from the collar of his shirt here and there, but this was your chance to look at them properly.

“did you get these all at the same time?” you ask.

“no. most of them are from when i was gone. this one right here-”

he guides your hand to the left side of your chest, placing your palm flat against his beating heart before letting go.

“-was right when i came back.”

“s’pretty. you’re pretty.” you mumble.

you instinctively squeeze, before the two of you quietly laugh.

“did you just cop a feel?” sukuna asks.

“maybe. seemed squishy.”

“and was it?”

“no. it was really underwhelming.” you respond, earning another laugh from him.

it’s almost too gratifying, the smaller things - making him laugh, seeing him smile. it was so rare to see it before and the fact that he does it for you, does it so freely, is enough to make your stomach fill with an embarrassing amount of warmth.

“your turn?” he asks, voice so low you can barely hear it.

you nod, that biting wave of anxiety instantly hitting you when sukuna’s hands slither under your tank top. his lips find their way back to yours, his breath heavy on your face as you try to swallow it down and let him keep going.

sukuna makes every effort to drag this on for as long as he can, for multiple reasons. so that your standards were never lowered, so that you’d never settle for callous hands and shitty guys in bars - not that he’d ever think you’d talk to anyone but him ever again. that he’d let anyone else see you like this.

sukuna felt like he was slowly figuring you out like you were the back of his hand. you always seemed to be withholding something, almost like it was a wall right there with him in the room, but that let him in when he knocked. and right now, he had every intent to make you feel good. to reward you for trusting him. to savor you.

he notices the trembling when he brings his hands up to your chest, when he lets them linger for too long. it’s so slight, almost in par with your breathing, but he notices it and immediately pulls back.

“are you still okay?” he asks.

the hesitation in your response is enough of an answer for him. he swallows down the dry patch in his throat - nearly cursing himself for going too far, too fast with you exactly where he knew you were reserved - before he brings his hands up to your cheeks, trying to get you to meet his eyes.

“what can i do?” he whispers.

“i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to, it was-”

“tell me how to make it better. what do you need right now?”

it’s almost embarrassing to ask for it. to make him overextend, to attend to you when you were the one who ruined the moment. and it felt increasingly stupid for you to push your own boundaries too, that you were going to scare him off now.

“please.” he whisper.

you look up to find his brown eyes, washed over in concern, as he cups the left side of your face. it’s enough to push you.

“do you have a shirt i can wear? this just feels too…”

“yes. do you need a long sleeve or-”

“short is okay.”

“do you need me to wear one too?” he asks.

you sigh.

“could you? i just feel…”

before you can even finish your sentence, sukuna’s pushed himself off the bed and rummages quickly through his closet before he returns. he snags his own shirt over his neck before sitting back down on the bed in front of you, his voice soft.

“arms up, pretty girl.”

you oblige, as sukuna pulls the shirt over you, his hands shaking as he dutifully attends to you. he’s pulling the sleeves down to your elbows, the fabric drowning every inch of your body as he readjusts it.

the two of you sit in silence, your hand curled into his as you try to muster out the best words to say. to selfishly, keep him around you.

“i’m not very good at this intimacy type of thing. i-i’m not sure if you’ve noticed.”

some part of your guard is down. the curious part of him wants to push, to crawl all the way in and never leave. but he makes his best efforts. to remain persistent in letting you make the calls here.

“explain.”

“i just mean. you always kiss me first. and-and you kiss me a lot. i really like it, but sometimes i think it’s weird if i initiate it first. like-like it’ll keep going.”

“i’ll always kiss you back, if that’s what you mean…”

“no. no, it’s…it’s kind of embarrassing to admit. like logically, i know it won’t happen. but you’re a guy. you…you have lots of experience and you obviously like to do things like this. a lot of people do. it-it’s normal. but sometimes i feel, in the moment, like i’m not ready to do all of that yet. to go farther…”

sukuna understands. he pulls his hand under your chin, using the knuckles of his pointer finger to guide your line of vision back to him.

“you call the shots. always.”

“i know.”

“i don’t expect anything from you. if you just want to kiss me, i am more than happy to just kiss you, y/n.” he whispers.

you can feel the tears in your eyes at sukuna’s tone. and the way his face falls at the sight of your tears is enough to make you fully cry.

“princess. who’s got you thinking like this?” he murmurs.

sukuna’s not one for words. though it seems he seems to always have the ones that fit just right. his thumbs are brushing away the wetness on your cheek, before he leans down and presses a kiss to your nose.

“you know that i’m more experienced than you. so will you give weight to my words when i say them?”

“okay.”

“intimacy can mean lots of things. having sex is intimacy, sure. that’s a no brainer. but…there’s so much more to it. i can promise you, you aren’t bad at being intimate with me.”

“really?”

it’s the fact that it's three in the morning. that’s what sukuna will pin it on tomorrow. why he feels the need, why it feels so easy to talk so freely with you. that and the fact that he feels the need to lick each and every one of your wounds, to smooth over the rough patches.

“i felt close to you at the dinner last night. when you were holding my hand under the table. you squeezed really hard when your mom was hurting your feelings, almost like you were trying to tell you that it made you upset…that’s intimacy to me.”

“are you trying to butter me up? don’t make stuff up.” you jokingly respond, earning a wide smile from him.

“you were relying on me. telling me something. that’s intimate.”

he reaches forward, pulling the hair out of the collar of the shirt before tucking it behind your ears.

“i know that’s hard for you to do. i appreciate it when you can do that, when you trust me.”

you swallow hard, before putting your hand back where it was resting before, over the beating of his heart.

“i trust you. just…give me time to figure out the words?”

“it’s not a race. i’m not planning on going anywhere.”

"promise?" you ask, holding out your pinkie to him.

you watch his eye twitch.

"i'm not going to do a fucking pinkie promise."

the two of you laugh and it's enough to make your cheeks hurt.

it’s solidified one thing in your mind. that look in his eyes, the way he tucks you into him before his stupid teasing voice lulls you to sleep.

that you have to tell yuuji the first chance you get.

next part linked here

an: right. well.

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seeingivy · 4 months

Text

you're losing me

satoru x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

an: based on a request I received! i've been trying to get back into the writing groove since finals ended - and this very detailed request was exactly what I needed - so ty my sweetie pie <3

“Would you guys like to order?”

You swallow hard, looking up at your waiter, who has stopped by for the third time now. You’ve been sitting here with the first years for almost forty-five minutes now, waiting for Satoru to arrive for the dinner that you two kept promising them. Yuuji and Nobara have all but exhausted the free bread supply while you waited, much to Megumi’s dismay, who keeps claiming that they’re going to be too full to eat their dinner and complain about it for days.

“Um-”

You pause, checking his location one more time, before you sigh and give a polite smile. Satoru’s location still isn’t reading - meaning, he’s still stuck on his mission - and not coming to dinner.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” you respond, gesturing for the three of them as Megumi starts narrating everyone’s order to the waiter.

The three of them turn to you - with matching stiff smiles - when he walks away as you swallow hard and prepare yourself for the awkward barrage of comments you know are coming.

“He’s not coming?” Megumi asks.

“Yeah. He’s still at his mission and I have to take you guys back early anyways, so we’ll just eat without him.”

“Maybe you can take something for him to go?” Yuuji asks.

“No, that’s alright. Um, his dinner from yesterday should still be there. He’s good.” you respond.

You don’t miss the look that the three of them give each other and swallow down the defense of him that you always have prepared. Not that you don’t still vehemently believe in it, because you do, it’s just that it tends to make those prolonged, pitying looks last longer when you do.

But Satoru really is busy. There’s no one like him - he quite literally changed the balance of life as anyone knew it when he was born - so of course there are certain missions that only he can do. And there’s a certain…safety that comes with picking Satoru each time. Because they know that he’ll come out on the other side of it, with exactly what they need.

Which means that he comes home late sometimes. Despite your best efforts to stay up - which always end with you upright on the couch, with your neck curved in a weird way - only to find that you’re safely tucked into your bed the next morning.

Satoru always comes home at some point, making sure to tuck you into bed, but has to run off so fast that you don’t catch him in the morning.

“Gojo-sensei’s really neglecting you, huh?” Nobara utters, earning a jab from Megumi in his side.

You smile.

“No. He’s just busy.” you respond, awkwardly breaking the bread in your plate.

“You’re right. He has missions and has been really hands on with the second-years.” Megumi responds.

You shoot him a grateful smile.

“Exactly! Especially since they’re all about to be nominated for first grade sorcerers so…now is more important than ever.” you add.

“It’s okay. You should just make Gojo-sensei feel really bad. Isn’t he rich? Then he’ll buy you a nice ring to make up for it.” Nobara adds, giving you a wink.

You snort.

“Okay, Nobara. I’ll try it.” you scoff.

“No, seriously! He should feel bad - you’re probably drinking wine alone at night, blasting some sad songs before you get so tired from crying that you fall asleep. You deserve a gift!” Nobara adds, earning her another jab from Megumi in her side.

You roll your eyes.

“I do not blast sad songs before I go to bed. That’s actually pathetic.” you respond.

“Or therapeutic. I’ll send you a playlist. Trust me, you’ll get so mad that you’ll actually get a gift from him out of it.” Nobara responds, your phone beeping in your pocket from her message.

You look over at Megumi, giving him a knowing look, before you return to your dinner and let Nobara target her incessant rambling for someone else. At the end of the dinner, Nobara flashes you a big smile when you set Satoru’s credit card down on the table, which was an accident because you had just left yours at home. You settle down her rambling by buying them all dessert on it before you send them home.

Satoru, though he would never admit it out loud, had been dreading coming home for the past week. And he’d wring his own neck out a few months ago, for even thinking it, let alone the fact that he’s been entertaining the fact for the past few months.

But what he has waiting for him when he’s coming home, leaves him with that deep seated, guilty pit in his stomach. Because he always trods into your apartment hours late, to find you curled up on the couch, having dozed off.

Satoru knows you - too well almost - and that despite his protests, you tried your best to wait up for him every single day. His heart warms at the fact that you want to spend time with him, but it’s quickly overshadowed with guilt when he sees the dark circles under your eyes. And it makes it ten times worse when he slips out in the morning for his mission, only to see you squirming into his side of the bed, now left cold.

And the worst part? That you can’t even bring yourself to be mad about it. Because Satoru would feel with anger, that it would be fully deserved, but your full understanding and love for him just makes his guilt a thousand times worse. Because without fail, you always leave ehim a dinner plate out, reminding him to eat his vitamins and rink water before leaving.

But today was different - quite possibly, the first time he’s rushed home in a while. Because his mission finished early and his meeting got cancelled, meaning that he would be home when you would be awake. He’d made arrangements, quickly running past and picking up a bouquet and ice cream on the way home, nearly sprinting all the way up the stairs.

Satoru pads into the apartment, feet leading him straight to the bedroom, where the light is pouring from the bottom of the closed door. He hesitates, caught off by the fact that you’re singing, before knocking on the door together. He’d missed the sound of it, of your quiet singing that he’d often wake up to while you were showering.

Satoru can recognize that you’re listening to Taylor Swift almost immediately - with how much you and Nobara play it around him - and he’s almost positive that you must have the cat cuddled into your nap, explaining all the lore to him like he’s found you doing hundreds of time.

"Do something, babe, say something" (say something) "Lose something, babe, risk something" (you're losin' me) "Choose something, babe, I got nothing (got nothing) To believe Unless you're choosin' me" You're losin' me Stop (stop, stop), you're losin' me Stop (stop, stop), you're losin' me I can't find a pulse My heart won't start anymore

Satoru swallows hard. He knows that it’s just a song. That the sentiment could easily not be reflecting what you’re feeling.

But he’s also acutely aware that it could be what you’re feeling. And it’s something that you aren’t telling him, because he knows that you odn’t want to be another thing that he has to deal with at the end of the day.

Satoru groans, leaning his head against the door, as he panders with his options. Because that’s the last thing that he wants you think. It’s the farthest place he wants to be in his relationship with you, because he wants you to always come to him. The fact that you could have been holding onto these feelings, for god knows how long, makes his stomach churn as his feet quickly lead him into the kitchen and has him scribbling a note to place in the bouquet of flowers.

You shoot Nobara a text as you pad out into the kitchen, your cat following you on your heels.

you: i like the playlist!

nobara: how much have you had to drink?

you: i did not drink. and i am not sad.

nobara: now who said that? projecting much…

You roll your eyes as you half debate opening up the dinner you had left out for Satoru last night or ordering takeout and leaving him leftovers to eat tomorrow morning

“I already ordered us something.”

You turn around, to find Satoru closing the space between you, the flowery smell filling your nose as his lips meet your forehead in a warm kiss.

“Satoru. You’re home, I didn’t even…”

He presses his lips firmly against yours, his right hand flesh as your cheek, sending a wave of warmth down your spine. You smile into the kiss, resting your forehead against his, as he returns a soft smile back.

“I missed you.” he murmurs.

You deflate, warm tears filling your eyes at his presence - bright blue eyes, the smell of his shampoo, and his warm arms around yours - as you loop your arms under his and dig your face into his neck. You can feel him leaving a few pecks in your hair, his voice soothing as you try your best to will away your tears.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to cry, I just really missed you.”

He pulls back, giving you a warm smile, as he reaches for the flowers on the counter and places them in your hands. You give him a bright smile, twisting them in your hands, as you fully inhald the flowery smell.

“For you.” Satoru responds, in a sing song voice as he reaches forward to pinch your cheek.

“You didn’t have to, love.” you respond, swiping the tiny little envelope from the bouquet.

“Yes. I did.” he deadpans, placing his hands on your shoulder before swinging you around and placing you flesh against his chest.

You open up the little envelope to find a little note inscribed with his messy handwriting, as his lips find their way to your cheek.

My sweet girl,

Your endless empathy and patience don’t go unnoticed. You’re far more than I deserve and I want to make it up to you, though I’m sure I’ll probably spend the rest of my life doing that, if you’ll let me.

We’re going to go away, just the two of us, for a little while. I don’t care where we go, you can choose where we go and what we do tomorrow. Just know, that in earnest, I’m choosing you, even if I don’t make it clear all the time.

I’ll choose you, always.

Love,

Satoru

You smile hard, twisting around, so you can look up at him. The tears are flowing from your eyes tenfold how, as Satoru lifts his hands to your cheeks, trying to push you into smiling.

“Why are you frowning, princess?”

“You’re so sweet, Satoru.”

Satoru shakes his head dismissively, as he pushes you into his embrace fully, increasing the pressure of his hold around you. The two of you stand there in the kitchen for a while, softly murmuring to each other, in the pale light of the kitchen.

When you and Satoru pad into bed later that night, you send Nobara another message before going to sleep.

you: nvm. remind me to take ur advice more often.

an, again: no one crucify me I haven't written anything for like a month

the satoru as taylor swift series masterlist

taglist: @invisible-mori @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg

513 notes · View notes

seeingivy · 3 months

Text

core memories

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

sukuna feels like he’s peeled off a layer of skin after that night. it all culminated into this thing for him - that raw tenderness associated with a deeply painful childhood memory, the warmth of a date in your hometown, and the fact that you crawled into the bath with him, just to hold him close.

that you let down your own wall just because you were so eager to crawl into his.

it’s why he feels like he’s irrevocably given some part of himself to you. at least that’s what he thinks anyways.

and it only works – it only feels like something he desperately won’t be able to ever get back – and more importantly, wants you to keep, because the same thing happens to you (or at least he hopes it does) two weeks down the line.

it starts out simple.

you accidentally bleed onto his sheets during the night.

sukuna wakes up to your side of the bed empty, and more alarmingly, the red splotch on his pristine white sheets, when he’s reminded of the memory. he can barely register it because your presence demands his attention immediately after and his throat feels like chalk.

“hey, sukuna. can i ask for a weird favor?” you ask, peeking your head out of the doorway.

sukuna pinches his lips together.

“sure, angel. what’s up?”

“can you run to the store and grab me some pads please? i didn’t realize it was already friday and that my period was going to start.”

sukuna stands up, closing the distance before you, before he leans down to press a warm kiss to your forehead.

“sure. what size is your pussy?” sukuna asks.

you roll your eyes.

“you’re hilarious. you should quit your job and start stand-up comedy.”

“can’t exactly keep up with your expensive needs if i do that, now can i?” sukuna states, giving you a cheeky smile as you shut the door straight onto his face.

“pads are ten dollars, sukuna.”

“i’m talking about how you linked my credit card to your doordash account and thought i wouldn’t notice.” sukuna deadpans.

you give him a peachy smile, as you reach forward to poke his cheek.

“have i ever told you that you’re the best boyfriend ever?”

“nope.”

“keep dreaming about it! i don’t plan to.” you state, giving him a wink as he all but glares at you.

when you shut the door, sukuna’s quick to collect the sheets and throw them in the wash before his brisk walk out to the store. and he tries to figure it out – to find how exactly to make you feel the way he did that night.

the memory’s replaying in his mind, with overwhelming detail, when he walks over there, and it sinks deeper into his chest the more detail he remembers.

of the day your dad left, when you came running over to him with blood running down your legs.

you’re only reminded of the memory when sukuna comes back, with the box of pads with a heart-shaped chocolate placed on top. eerily enough, he’s nowhere to be found when you leave the shower, your skin still warm from the water as you look around.

you unwrap the little pink foil as you pace around the flat for him, feet cold on the concrete, until you find him in the bedroom, pulling the sheets over the mattress.

or at least attempting to.

“want some help?” you ask.

“i don’t need your chocolate covered hands on the clean sheets.” sukuna states, eyeing you.

“come lick it off my fingers if it’s bothering you so much.” you complain, setting the little foil on the nightstand.

"don't tempt me."

you reach for the closest corner, pinning it down and tucking it under the mattress, as sukuna sends you a grateful smile, before throwing the other half of the blanket over to you.

“i washed these yesterday, sukuna.” you mention.

“yeah. um-”

you look up at him, hands nearly trembling and the loud smacking of his phone falling out of his pocket as you walk over to his side, securing it from the floor.

it’s almost frightening – watching someone so collected fumble with their words. you figure this is how sukuna would feel if you were ever able to keep it together.

“you okay, butter fingers?” you ask.

“yeah. yeah, i’m fine. thanks, pretty girl.” he states.

you hand him the phone, eyeing his shoddy work.

“you barely even tucked the sheets in properly.” you complain, pushing him to the side, before reaching back for the blanket and smoothing it perfectly against the sheets.

and before he can get away, you quickly reach for his wrists and pull him back. and you’re quick to nestle into his arms, digging your cheek into his shoulder as the smell of his cologne nearly obliterates your nostrils.

“what’s wrong, baby?” you ask.

there it is again. sukuna wants to strangle you.

“stop fucking doing that.” he murmurs.

“doing what?”

“y/n.” he warns.

you pull back, bring your palms to his cheeks before squishing his face together. you can tell that he’s annoyed – and you’re entirely amused by it – as he tries to muster a sentence together through his squished lips.

“am i supposed to read your mind, you big baby?” you coo.

“i don’t like it when you say that.” sukuna states.

you pause.

“oh. i’m sorry. i just figured you were a big…pet names guy. you barely even call me by my name. but don’t worry, i-”

“no.”

“oh?” you ask, giving him your best smirk.

you’re not sure how well it works when you do it. the teasing, bantering type thing when you’re trying to get him to loosen up. it had worked well enough in your favor the past few times – and you figured you’re almost…goofy charm was part of why sukuna liked you in the first place – so you’d try to use it when you could.

“i don’t like it when you call me a big fucking baby. i'm not a fan of patronizing nicknames.” sukuna states.

you smile.

“but? it feels like there’s more to that statement.”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“but. i like it when you call me that otherwise.”

you tilt your head to the side.

“okay, baby. but seriously, what’s wrong with you? you really only act like this when somethings up.” you state.

it gets harder to hide things from you as time goes on. but that’s part of the risk anyways – of becoming so close you’re nearly intertwined. sukuna sighs, before giving you a firm squeeze at your sides.

“i changed the sheets again because you leaked on them.” sukuna states.

you nearly cringe, clenching your jaw.

“ew, sukuna. oh my god. i’m so sorry, you should have told me so i could have-”

“that’s nothing to apologize for.” he clarifies.

“no, really. now you’re all grossed out by me so much that you’re being weird.”

sukuna finds it irritating. you nearly find the good in everything, except for yourself.

“i’m not grossed out by it.” he states.

“i mean…”

“it just reminded me. of the last time we…had something like this happen.” sukuna states.

“the last time? we haven’t even-”

but that’s when you remember. and the embarrassment that never really registered the first time establishes in full effect. so much so, that you have to change the topic just as fast, duck out the first chance you can get.

sukuna can barely focus the entire workday. all he can think about is that memory in petrifying detail, now coupled with the fact that for the first time, he’s upset you so bad that you basically ran away from him.

like fully went to class without even taking your backpack. because that’s how badly you didn’t want to talk to him.

“what’s wrong with you?”

sukuna looks up from his monitor to find shoko peering over at him from his desk, shifting a lollipop around in her mouth.

“nothing.”

“you look like you have a stick up your ass.” she states.

“it takes one to know one. how’s your little situationship going?”

shoko rolls her eyes.

“perfectly fine. how’s your girlfriend?”

“would it kill you to mind your own fucking business sometimes?”

shoko smiles, before gesturing for suguru and satoru from the desks over. nanami’s too civilized for these type of things – which is why he’s the only person that’s not on sukuna’s hit list.

sukuna can nearly feel his nostrils flaring the second satoru starts talking, the overwhelming urge to gouge his eyes out extremely powerful for nine in the morning.

“trouble in paradise?” satoru asks, a sing-song voice in his tone.

“something that’s familiar to you, i’m sure.” sukuna murmurs.

“hey! you don’t have to be a dick.” satoru whines.

sukuna rolls his eyes, nearly breaking the keys on his keyboard.

“what happened? she realized she’s too good for you or something?” shoko states.

“did she get weirded out because she basically used to be like your little sister?” satoru asks.

“she was never like my little sister. and she’s only two years younger than me.” sukuna clarifies.

“oh, we know all about that. you’ve always been our little happy camper when it comes to her.” satoru chides, earning him a fit of laughter from the group.

the closet thing in sukuna’s vicinity is a stapler. luckily for him, satoru doesn’t see it coming at all and it hits him square in the face. that earns him laughter from the group, though it’s cheapened by the whining noises that come out of satoru's mouth afterwards.

but it’s not fault, because in sukuna’s expert opinion, he was asking for it.

sukuna’s lucky enough that he’s been able to keep the group of them away from you for a considerable amount of time. because they’ve been holding onto one of his deepest secrets – and if they were given the opportunity – they would take every chance to mortify him and spell it out for you in detail.

when sukuna came back from europe, he figured that any rebellious streak that he had was basically out of his system. though he always had a tendency to be a little bit bold and overconfident, he’d mellowed out. at least by his europe standards anyways.

and when he met the group of them, they took him out to a bar and asked him a simple question. though it seems rather inappropriate in hindsight, it’s literally due to the copious amounts of alcohol that they all seem to drink – and nurse him into drinking too.

it’s not his fault he misunderstood the question.

who is the first person you ever slept with?

sukuna realized later that the question was who was the first person that he ever had sex with. not the first person that he ever slept next to, that he cuddled with during the night. unfortunately for him, he answered the latter instead of the former – and in his tipsiness – told the group of them all about you before he had even dated you.

that he was counting his lucky stars when yuuji was so sick to go on the trip and that sammy hates bugs, which meant that he got to be there alone with you and the other campers. the other families – their kids were far too old, meaning that the two of you were nearly stuck together.

you taught him how to make smores, he taught you how to catch fish – though you were never really able to do it, so he opted to do it for you. and that your camping bag seemed to be misplaced on the last night, so you shyly climbed into his tent and asked if you could stay.

“sukuna. hey, are you awake?”

“jesus fucking christ.”

sukuna watches as your eyes widen and you cower away with an apologetic look on your face, as you put your hands up.

“sorry! i didn’t realize you were sleeping.”

“my eyes were closed.”

“okay, well. i kind of knew you were sleeping. but i need to ask for a favor.”

“what’s wrong?”

“i can’t find my camping bag. and my tent is so dinky that it doesn’t have the padding on the bottom, so it’s just the cold, muddy floor.” you murmur.

sukuna fights the urge to smile fully. whatever was responsible for ruining your sleeping bag was getting his full praise the next morning.

“okay. scoot in.”

“huh?”

“well, i’m not going to let you sleep on the fucking floor without a blanket. and i’m not giving up my own either, because i don't like you that much, so just come here.”

you wince.

“really? is that not weird?”

“i’ve known you since you were a fucking toddler, basically. i’ve watched you cry more times than i can count, seen you burp more than yuuji, and i’m convinced you farted in front of me one time.”

the agitation in your face is almost funny.

“are you stupid, sukuna? i don’t fart.”

“that’s biologically impossible.”

“no, it’s not. you probably heard yuuji and thought it was me.” you state.

“for the record, you most definitely did. just don’t fart on me in the night and we’ll be fine.” sukuna states.

you roll your eyes as you discard your little camping pants, unaware of the way sukuna’s heart has just constricted in his chest.

maybe he would have taken the floor if he knew you were planning on sleeping in butterfly printed shorts.

“well, now i’m going to wait and aim my fart right at you when it happens.” you respond, as you tuck yourself into the bag, pressed right up against him in the cold.

"I thought you didn't fart."

"i'll adapt just to attack you with it."

his arm finds it’s way around you, the space so constricted that you almost had to intertwine to be any semblance of comfort. and it’s in the dim light of the little lantern that you find yourself face to face with sukuna, for what feels like the first time ever.

his nose is nearly brushing against yours, the minty smell from his toothpaste nearly overwhelming.

“sukuna?”

“yeah?” he whispers.

“thank you.”

sukuna hopes that your head resting against his pounding chest doesn’t keep you up all night.

“earth to fucking sukuna.” satoru states, shaking his hand in front of his eyes.

he has a death wish. suguru must know that all too well, because he’s shooing shoko and satoru’s nosiness away, before he pulls up into the chair next to him.

“alright. what happened?” suguru asks.

“i just…brought up something from when we were kids by accident. about the day her dad left. and-and she was so shocked that she basically fucking ran out the door, to class, without taking her backpack because i upset her that badly.” sukuna grates.

suguru’s mouth pinches into a line, before he leans his chin against the backs of his hands.

“didn’t you say that she was really hard to read?” he asks.

“sometimes.”

“think you just caught her off guard. especially if she wasn’t thinking about it before. i think you should just send her a text to tell her to spend the night and that you can either talk about it or never bring it up again. you should let her make the call.” suguru states.

“you don’t think i should….fucking leave her alone or something? she probably hates me for all i know.”

“i don’t think you’re giving her enough credit. you’re her boyfriend. maybe she wants to talk about it now. especially if you were there – and now she’s reminded of it.”

sukuna ponders the thought as suguru gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up, before he starts yanking on shoko and satoru’s ears in the periphery.

he decides to jump.

dear diamond of the season, i’m sorry about this morning. i just brought it up on a whim and we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. but also if you feel the need to let it out, my time is always yours anyways. (please come home tonight or i will never recover emotionally) (i am kidding. you’re free to take time to yourself if you need it. but also i’ve become too used to sleeping with you next to me and i will shave my head if you don’t come back.) (am also curious how you are faring in class without a pencil, a notebook, or a laptop. you push the limits everyday, baby.) groveling on my hands and knees, sukuna

the response is fast.

dear gentle reader, so much to unpack in one email. WHEN DID YOU WATCH BRIDGERTON? (if you watched it for the period piece porn and not the romance, immediate breakup) caught me a little bit off guard, but not in the bad way. kinda got stuck in my head about it all so…would be kind of nice to talk about it i guess? idk. i’ll see how i feel. (and yes, i’m coming home, silly. i can’t stay away from my alpha wolf (insert barking sounds) for so long :D) (shave your head and i will never fucking recover. i won’t talk to you till it grows back.) (i took notes on a napkin. not one of my finest moments, but i think it’s a testament to the versatility of women.) just pooped in library bathroom, y/n

you come home to find sukuna at the stove and immediately press yourself flush to his skin. looping your arms around his torso, pressing your cheek to his bare skin – one of the few moments you can appreciate that he never really wears a shirt – as you sigh.

“hi stinky.” you coo.

“absolutely not.”

“boo. it’s romantic!” you whine.

sukuna turns around, before cupping his fingers around your chin and tilting your face up. there’s a tired smile on your face – barely any makeup and your glasses instead of your contacts – that has him reeling.

“how was your day, stinky?” he asks.

“the first day’s always the worst. feel like i have no energy.” you respond, leaning your head against his chest.

“luckily for you, we’re having breakfast for dinner. and i have pain killers if it gets bad.”

you smile.

“i’m starting to think you only know one fact about me and it’s that i like french toast.”

“har har har. you’re hilarious, y/n!” he deadpans, flicking your forehead.

he shoos you away, gesturing for you to go change, as he starts plating the food. and when you come back, the two of you cuddle under the blanket on the couch, with your plates warm in your hands.

you look at the screen and promptly skip the scene.

“hey.”

“why can’t we watch season two of bridgerton?” you ask.

“because we’re watching it from the start together.”

“there’s just so much…porn. and enemies to lovers is better than fake dating.”

“sweetheart. you’re like missing half of the plot when you skip those scenes.”

“we’ve watched it before! i’m going to kill you.”

sukuna rolls his eyes, before reaching for the remote and switching to the second season. and well into the third episode – dirty plates stacked on top of each other on the ottoman – sukuna’s fingers running through your hair beckon you to talk.

“sukuna.”

“hm, baby?”

“do you ever think about how knowing each other before has like….impacted our relationship?” you ask.

he looks down at you, concentration from the screen broken.

“sometimes. what are you thinking about?”

sukuna reaches forward, pushing your glasses back to the bridge of your nose.

“when you date other people, you kind of have to explain everything to them. shitty dads, complicated sisters…i feel like we skipped that part. but it’s also more complicated, because you have your own opinions on everything that happened because you were there too.” you murmur.

“works in our favor too. i could never be as close to someone as i am to you. they’d never understand the depth of anything i told them, not like you would because you were actually there.”

you nod.

“that’s true. there’s nothing like understanding that my dad has hurt me than being the one who had to pick me up after that…”

sukuna leans his head against the top of yours, your eyes lazily fixed on the screen, but not focusing.

“can you tell me what you remember from that day?” you ask.

sukuna hums in response. he’s not sure where that block in his throat came from and the wavering in his voice almost embarrasses him.

“we could always hear them fighting. from the kitchen especially, since our windows were always open. and it was particularly loud that day.” sukuna starts.

you can feel his hold on you tighten, the hand skirting underneath your shirt hard on your skin.

“my mom and i knew something was wrong when we heard sammy. and then you. you…your voice was so small compared to his that…that it fucking scared me. it reminded me of yuuji…when he fights with our dad. my first thought was to go over there and fight him myself for you.” sukuna states.

“you just wanted an excuse to fight with adults. especially at that age.”

sukuna knows the joke is a deflection. your heart is barely in the statement.

“and then i heard sammy crying and my heart dropped. i’ve…i’ve seen you cry plenty. but sammy’s so put together, tries so hard to be, that when she let it go, i was shocked. my mom kept telling me not to listen, that it was rude, but i was basically sticking my head out the window at that point.”

you pinch your eyes for what comes next.

“the doorbell rang and you were there. you…you were crying so hard and there was blood running down your legs. i almost called the police because i thought you were hurt.”

“to be honest, i thought i was too. i’d never really gotten my period before, and i knew what they were, but i…i was so shocked when he was gone that i barely processed it.” you murmur.

sukuna squeezes your arm.

“i didn’t know that was your first period.”

you tilt your head up, looking at his brown eyes.

“yeah. your mom was the one who taught me….all the pads and tampons stuff. chocolate for cramps and all that. she actually did pretty well – considering the fact that she had to check on sammy and my mom after that too but still make me comfortable.”

“i’m glad. it seemed so confusing to me at the time – when she sent yuuji and i to the store to grab the pads for you. i feel like she just didn’t want us there to...to not have two more people to worry about. and we really didn’t want to leave you. we basically ran to the store, through the aisles, before we got there and realized there’s like a hundred fucking brands of pads with different like…options and shit.”

“feels like a good time to mention that you have a very good y/n-radar. you got the right ones this morning.”

he smiles, his eyes focused on the table as he mindlessly runs his fingers through your hair.

“you’re forgetting the good parts.” you state.

“and what’s that?”

you smile.

“i know for a fact that your mom used to give you pocket money. and that you and yuuji saved it all to buy candy and chocolate. and you always used to keep it saved, for when you really wanted it, whereas yuuji ate it right away.”

sukuna scoffs.

“and then he had the fucking audacity to complain. like maybe if you didn’t eat it all at once, it would have lasted longer, dipshit.”

you lightly shove him.

“you’re such a meanie. we were like babies.”

“shut up. keep going.”

“you shared your chocolate with me. it was a hershey’s with almonds in it. and when i curled my nose at that, you gave me a whole spiel about the very refined world of chocolate with nuts in it. about how the smooth silkiness of the chocolate was the perfect juxtaposition to the crunchiness of the nut.”

sukuna smiles.

“that sounds inappropriate, baby.”

“get your head out of the gutter. it was sweet. that you shared with me. made me smile. i’ve always felt like i’ve always got some lingering feelings for you but if i had to pinpoint it, that was probably when i started falling in love with you. and granted, that was so….juvenile at that point. i was like a teenager but…it does feel the same as it did then compared to now. falling in love with you.”

sukuna’s quiet. you look over to find him staring at you, his breaths so slow that it catches you off guard. and before you can even asks what’s wrong, he’s looped his hands under your thighs, pulling you straight onto him to straddle his lap.

you place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, cheeks burning at the way he’s looking up at you.

“what did you just say to me?” he asks, voice quiet.

“what?”

“repeat. what you said.”

that’s when you realize it.

“oh, fuck. sukuna. i don’t want to rus-”

“repeat it.”

you swallow hard.

“i…i’m falling in love with you?”

“that sounds like a question.”

“sukuna.” you whine.

“say it right.” he demands.

you bite into the softness of your cheek, taking a deep breath, before you dig your fingers into the indents of his shoulders.

“sukuna. i’m falling in love with you.” you murmur.

sukuna’s eyes soften, his gaze so honey sweet and warm, that you can’t help but bring your hands to his cheeks. you lean closer, your faces only a few feet away from each other, as you smile back.

“what is it?” you whisper.

“you’re falling in love with me.” he responds. like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“that’s right.” you confirm.

sukuna smiles, before closing the space between you, the kiss so longing that it makes the core in the pit of your stomach burn, your chest flutter. he breaks the kiss, smiling and murmuring against your mouth as you lean against his forehead.

“thanks for finally catching up, slow-poke.”

next part linked here

an: this fic is purely vibes but we die like men. sukuna when he gets arrested on the day his grandfather but y/n when she accidentally has her first period in front of sukuna when her dad left. yup.

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431 notes · View notes

seeingivy · 4 months

Text

french toast

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: enabled by @babiemay thank her for giving me the BIGGEST best friends older brother sukuna brain rot i've ever had in my life. (ooc sukuna again btw)

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

based on the seventeen years that sukuna has known you, he figures that you’ve already worked up some type of overthinking storm in your head when you arrive at his apartment two days later. and he knows for a fact that he’s right, because you’re at his doorstep with a pinched look on your face, clutching your purse like you’re about to get robbed.

“hi pretty girl. did someone make an attempt on your life today?”

you can feel your cheeks burning at the term of endearment, so phased you can barely coherently respond - or understand - what it is he said.

“no?” you respond, nearly sweating under his eye contact as he smiles.

“then why are you looking at me like you think i’m going to eat you?” he asks, annoyed as he gestures for you to walk into the kitchen.

you feel your head run in a spiral, at the implication of his words, as he places his hands flat on your shoulders, and guides you to sit at the stool on his little kitchen island. the entire ordeal - the breakfast, the fact that he’s peeling off your coat and pressing a kiss to your temple, and the lingering touches - they make your skin burn, almost itch with nervousness.

he stands on the other side of the counter, leaning forward on his forearms, as he smiles at you. and you try your best to figure out what exactly it is that’s beaming in his eyes as he leans forward.

“pick your poison.”

you feel yourself pale.

“huh?”

he frowns, as he leans back.

“for breakfast? what did you want to eat?” he clarifies.

you breathe a sigh of relief.

“anything’s okay. don’t trouble yourself. i-i can even help.”

you walk over to his side, pulling up your sleeves and giving him a peachy smile, as he takes the opportunity to step towards you. your back hits the counter and sukuna makes it a point - resting both of his arms at your sides - as he traps you within his hold.

“talk.” he states, almost sternly.

“hm?”

sukuna leans closer, leaning his forehead against yours, as he takes a deep breath. it reminds you vividly, of two nights ago, when he pulled you straight onto his lap. and murmured into your skin that you were his pretty girl. and that he was going to prove it to you.

“talk.” he states, the tone in his voice irritated.

you look up at him, at his eyes razor focused in on yours, and spot no inclination of irritation on his face. despite the fact that you were almost positive that it was dripping from his tone. though, you always found him particularly hard to read.

“now.” he murmurs.

you sigh.

“what are you trying to do right now?” you ask.

he rolls his eyes. there’s the irritation you were hearing.

“make you breakfast.” he deadpans.

“is that all?”

“what are you getting at?” he asks.

sukuna often finds that talking to you is like digging a hole. that it takes patience. because he’s not going to find what he’s looking for forthright. but he knows for a fact that there’s something down there.

it’s aggravating. but he persists.

“promise you won’t make fun?” you ask.

“i will do no such thing.”

“sukuna.” you whine, crossing your hands against your chest.

sukuna finds this part of you endearing. because it reminds him of all the different ways he’s seen you. when you were four and barging into his house to play wii with his little brother, explaining barbie movies at the dinner table, and tagging along on his family vacation when he was fourteen.

and how after all this time, you still have the same tendencies. you bounce your right leg when you’re nervous, tuck your hair behind your ears when you’re finished rambling, and curl your hands into little fists and cross your arms - entirely unable to meet his eyes - when you’re embarrassed.

sukuna clears his throat, as you look up at him. and you know the expression all too well. that he’ll wait all day if he has to.

“no making fun. i’m serious, sukuna.”

“it’s almost like you know you’re going to say something stupid.”

“don’t call my feelings stupid.” you murmur.

“well, i’ll keep calling them stupid until you tell me what they are. i’ll be honest if you let me.”

this is something you can appreciate about sukuna. that he won’t beat around the bush. or say things just to coddle. it’s the same as the other night, where you told him about what happened at the bar, when he didn’t rush to your defense like almost everyone else does. and when it comes to this, you figure that he’ll be straightforward.

“are you trying to have sex with me right now?” you ask.

you look at sukuna, specifically at the way his eyes widen, before he breaks out into a laugh. and not just any laugh, because he’s nearly keeling over with how amusing he finds it. howling even. and it makes even more blood rush to your cheeks, humiliated for even bringing it up.

sukuna grins, lifting his hands up from the sides of the counter and wrapping them around your neck.you can feel your breath hitch in your throat, as you instinctively shut your eyes. he’s going to be straightforward.

“your feelings are stupid.” he whispers, right into your skin.

you pull back, staring at him dumbfounded, as he places one of his hands on your waist. and he’s staring back at you, the expression in his face slightly amused.

“that’s not nice.”

“i’m not a nice person.”

it’s frustrating. the tone that he uses with you. it teeters between placating and teasing you and you find it hard to decide which one exactly it is. and it seeps right under your skin, lets your irritation come to a head faster than it usually would.

“okay, well. sue me! you had no problems doing god knows what in my room the other day. and-and then you were making jokes about how you were going to eat me. the second that i got here. and-and you know how you are-”

“and what’s that?”

you pause.

“what?”

“you said you know how you are. well, i don’t. enlighten me please.” he clarifies.

sukuna’s pleased with himself. because he’s figured out exactly what it is, that’s brewing in that head of yours. and naturally, he has every intention to make you mince your words.

“you-”

you’re not sure how to say this. if there’s a polite way to call him what he is.

“i’m what? a manwhore?” he asks.

“no! you-”

“you think i’m a horny freak, right? that i want to lift you up, take your skirt off, and have you right here on my kitchen counter?”

you feel your eyes go wide, as you swallow hard, and feel the nervousness take residence in your stomach. sukuna senses it fast enough and makes his efforts to diffuse it.

“do you think i would only invite you here because i want you to please me? do you think that’s the only way i can enjoy your company?”

you can feel yourself getting too overstimulated, your head nearly steaming - at the implication, at the way he’s looking at you, and the fact that his lips are a few feet away from yours - and his smug grin crawling underneath your skin and making you twitch.

you cover your face with your hands, feeling the warmth on your palms, as you feel his hands curl around your wrists, prying them off of your face. and when you look up at him, at the soft smile on his face, as you can’t help but frown at him.

“no…”

sukuna smiles.

“are you lying to me?”

you deflate.

“maybe a little.”

sukuna secures his hands around your waist, before fully lifting you up and placing you on the counter. and he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek before he wordlessly starts rummaging through different cabinets in his kitchen and the fridge, fully intent on making you the breakfast you were promised.

you can’t help but watch him, as he muses around his kitchen, slicing vegetables on the cutting board and fruits on the side. at how he entirely discards the conversation you just had like it was nothing.

from two feet away, sukuna is very, very appreciative of you. because you’re not very proud. and despite your first attempts, you’re honest too. because he knows for a fact that your hesitation to state your thoughts is because you don’t want to write sukuna off as something so…lewd. even if you think it’s true. and that of course, any hesitation on your part comes from something deeper than him.

the deep seated distaste you seem to have for yourself. though sukuna’s entirely unsure why it’s there in the first place. he slices a strawberry in half, letting the eggs cook at his side, before he makes a residence standing in between your legs.

he hands you one of the halves of the strawberry, before popping the other in his mouth and leaning into your space.

“i don’t think you’re a manwhore.” you clarify.

“okay. i don’t think you’re one either.” he responds.

you smile.

“but you do think that’s the only reason you’re here?” he pokes.

“no! no, i don’t think that. i just-”

you sigh, placing your hands flat on the fabric of his hoodie, as you crumple it into your fists.

“sorry. i’m not very good at this type of thing. and-and you’re like…you know. reputation. and you obviously have needs! and megumi thinks you’re a womanizer.”

sukuna snickers, as you release his hoodie, and you deflate slightly. mainly at the fact that he’s not offended. and letting you ramble - and say ten different things you shouldn’t - openly.

sukuna doesn’t shy away from what exactly it is that you think of him. or what that godawful sea urchin megumi thinks either. because it’s naturally, quite simple. and somewhat true. because he finds it hard to stay in one place for a long time. and as you very keenly put it, he had needs.

though, that rule, as sukuna was painstakingly reminded of, didn’t apply to you. because again, you transcended any normal guideline that sukuna had. which is why he was keen on making you breakfast two days later, on his day off. and make your favorite, which he specifically remembers from the camping trip.

“i’m not sure what thing you’re referencing. and make no mistake. i don’t talk in tongues like you do. if i invite you over for breakfast, it’s because i want to eat breakfast with you.” he responds.

“you were the one who said you were going to eat me.” you defend.

“you were looking at me like you were scared of me. like how prey looks at a predator before it gets eaten?”

“oh.”

sukuna pushes off the counter as he starts plating the food onto and feels his ego inflate when you jump off the counter and cling to his arm when you realize what exactly it is that he made.

“sukuna. i love french toast!”

“yes. i’m well aware.”

"how'd you know?" you ask.

sukuna looks over at you, the look in his eyes so devious, that you know you've certainly walked into something by stating it.

"you told us. on the camping trip. you've always been my pretty girl. even when you were fourteen."

you barely have time to even stomach what it is that he said as he lifts both plates as he makes a gesture for you to follow, seating the two of you back on his kitchen island. and when you settle in, sukuna gets to pick at your mind, with the questions that have been stuck in his head for the past two days.

“before i divulge my manwhore adventures for you, you have to indulge me first. how many guys have you dated? or talked to?” sukuna asks.

you hate sukuna’s choice of words sometimes. indulge. it’s almost like he knows he’s saying words that make you nervous. that make the sweat accumulate on the palms of your hands.

“where’d you learn how to make french toast like this?” you ask, deflecting.

“i asked first.”

you swirl the eggs around on the plate - moving them from the left, to the right, and back to the left - before you answer.

“i had a crush on this guy named dean from sixth grade to eighth grade. all of the boys in school got dared to slow dance with different girls and he picked me. it was an awkward four minutes of halo by beyonce but i loved him after that. he was funny. and cute.”

“did you date?” he asks.

“oh, of course not. he started liking this girl named kimi in eighth grade.”

sukuna’s not exactly sure if this is the question he asked. but you keep going. and it’s intriguing to him nonetheless.

“in my sophomore year of highschool, i had a crush on this guy named parker. he was kind of nerdy, like the stupid type? my english teacher would always put us in group projects together, and when i asked him why, he said it was because he wanted us to get married.”

“that’s an appropriate thing to say to a fifteen year old.” sukuna bites.

“no! my teacher had this dream to go to two of his students weddings, that met in his class.”

“and what killed that extremely inapprorpiate dream, dead in its tracks?”

“my best friend. we all somehow ended up in the same friends group our junior year. and they kind of started flirting. dated all the way till our freshman year of college.” you respond.

sukuna curbs the question that comes to the forefront of his mind. because it occurs to him that his plausible answer to it, one that he despises, is exactly what’s going to be the answer. that if they liked each other, you were going to let them. despite the fact that you liked him first.

“any more for me?” sukuna asks.

“my first boyfriend was in my senior year of highschool.”

sukuna feigns shock, as you fight the urge to laugh.

“have we finally arrived to a real boyfriend?”

you laugh, as you settle your hand into his underneath the table. there’s something so inviting about him, the way he’s hanging off the ends of your words and listening intently, that makes you continue.

“we don’t speak his name.” you state.

“oh?”

“he’s not a good guy. we dated until….my freshman year of college. december. and we officially stopped talking the summer of my sophomore year.” you state.

sukuna bites the urge to ask every question in his mind. on who this guy is, why you continued to talk to him almost an entire year after, and most importantly, why you haven’t talked to anyone else since.

except for him anyways. for the first time, sukuna finds himself being the exception. in a way that’s favorable to him.

“that’s all of them! your turn.”

sukuna smiles.

“that’s all?”

“mhm! it’s kind of boring, i’m assuming. in comparison to you.”

sukuna concludes one thing. that all three of these men, especially the last, were not deserving of you. in the slightest. and that each one had wrecked a sizeable amount of havoc. he curses himself for not paying attention when he was still there.

“oh definitely. you’d need to stay here all day if you wanted to here that.”

you smile brightly.

“that can be arranged.” you respond.

sukuna leans forward, lips a few feet away from yours, before he speaks again.

“you like to play hard to get, don’t you?” sukuna asks.

“what? what do you mean?”

sukuna places his hands on the rung of your chair, before pulling it flesh with his own. and he tests the waters, by placing his hand on your bare knee, right near the pleats of your black skirt. and he feels you instinctively press your legs together, but make no moves to push him off.

“i didn’t make the list?”

you swallow hard, entirely embarrassed. though, your first real crush you supposed is naturally the one that you’ve denied, vehemently, since you were four years old and yuuji asked you in passing.

because when your eyes lingered on him for too long, after he fixed the wii controls and dutifully handed you both your controllers back - of his wii, that he was letting you play on - yuuji halfmindedly asked the question.

why are you looking at him like that? do you like him or something?

it was a joke, of course. because yuuji just asked so he could start the match of wii tennis while you weren’t paying attention. that in the rush of it, you never got to consider the answer to it in full. though you suppose there’s no better time to answer it than now.

“i have this best friend. his name is yuuji.” you start.

sukuna’s alarmed. so alarmed that he pulls his hand off of your thigh, retreating it behind his back.

surely you didn’t really like yuuji. because that would stop whatever it was that was blooming right now. because he was not his brother, despite their identical pink hair. the farthest thing from it actually.

“i met him when i was four. and i barged into his house because he wanted me to play wii with him. you see, his big brother didn’t really like to play with him so he figured that i was the next best thing.” you state.

“he had greasy hands. so did you. it was disgusting.” he states.

“and yuuji didn’t know how to turn on the game. or-or remember which one it was in. so he called his very cool, much older brother, to help us. i’d never met a six year old before, and naturally if i had, i wouldn’t have thought he was so cool.”

“shut up.”

sukuna desperately wants you to continue.

“seemed like the real serious type. kind of quiet. dark blue shirt, black shorts. the socks that only go to your ankles. i didn’t even know that his name was sukuna until a few days later, when he walked with us to school. he didn’t even introduce himself to me.”

“did you want to know him that badly?”

“and he fixed the remote, obviously. had some six year knowledge we didn’t clearly. and-and he turned to me. gave me a smile before he handed one to me and walked away.” you state, shrugging at him.

sukuna’s satiated with your answer. mostly because, it seems you seem to remember the ordeal in as excruticating detail as he has. that you were wearing a pink dress, gold earrings, and a ribbon in your hair. that your skin was the softest he had ever felt, that you were the first girl who had brushed fingers with him when he handed you the remote, save for his mom of course

sukuna brings his hand back into your hair, feeling the fabric of the blue ribbon in your hair today, matching with the short cardigan that you were wearing. and he wants to keep this one too. yank it out of your hair and secure it to his keys next to the pink one he refused to return.

sukuna looks down at the fabric, at your hair sprawled over your shoulder. he can make out the length of your collarbone from underneath your tanktop and settles his lips right into divot, before pressing a lingering kiss into your skin and feeling you keel over in his arms.

“france.” he murmurs, right into your skin.

“what’s that?” you ask, dazed from the contact.

“i learned to make the french toast in france.”

he kisses up the length of your neck, making no inclination to stop even as you barely stutter your words out. and for the second time, can't resist and places his hands on your waist just to pull you straight on top of him.

"makes sense. that's just-just toast for them." you mumble.

sukuna can't help but laugh. he's never going to tire of you.

next part linked here

taglist: @ghostreadersthings @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks

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seeingivy · 1 month

Text

picnic

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

(^^make sure you check since this was a double upload and I posted the last one very recently :D)

dear head of the cullen clan, keep evening plans open – im getting off work early and we’re going on a picnic. coldest regards, the head of the volturi (ps. am expecting a very wholehearted appreciation for the fact that it’s coldest regards and not warmest regards, because they are, in fact, vampires and therefore cold. because they don’t have a heart and such.) (extra ps. this is a link to a shared spotify playlist. i’ll add a song and then you add one. we’ll keep it going.)

you snort.

dear aro of the volturi (does he have a last name???), so much to unpack in one email, yet again. you really know how to keep a girl on her toes. first and foremost, you are SOOOO ran through. so offended that i wasn’t the person who got to put you on to twilight and whoever it was, I HOEP SHE DIES! if you’re team jacob, you’re a freak. second, SO VERY FLATTERED that you think i would be carlisle. a little haunting that you think YOU would be aro…but it’s ok cuz former companions to enemies back to lovers in our case would be kind of crazy??? third. done and done. i just added a song so hurry up bc i have like ten other songs i want to add and i am #impatient see u after work pookie :D, carlisle cullen (very appreciative of the cold regards. you are a king among men.)

his response back is very prompt.

Never call me pookie again. (very offended that you think i’d be stupid enough to be team jacob. and direct your murderous rage towards yuuji and my mom, who forced me to watch it in theaters with them.)

you wait for sukuna at the park two blocks down the apartment complex. the sun is hours away from dipping into the horizon, the chilly wind rustling through the trees. you realize now that the red skirt and white sweater might betray you in a few hours but decide that you’ll simply have to steal his jacket when he gets here.

and you would have already but he’s twenty minutes late.

and while this part of the city is extremely safe, sukuna’s ever constant fear of people attacking you on subway trains and stabbing you in alleyways has instilled an acute fear of strangers in you, which is why you’re gripping the sparkly pink pepper spray he bought you very harshly in your palm right now.

you think it’s sweet that he bought you a pink one.

but of course it’s severely ironic that you almost used it on him.

because he scares the living daylights out of you, by placing his hand around your shoulder from behind.

“hey. i’m sorry i-”

“jesus fuck-”

you instinctively hold the pepper spray up to his face, your hands shaking in front of you.

“i’ll use it, you pervert!”

sukuna leans his head to the side, which is when you’re finally able to log that it’s actually him standing in front of you and not a stranger, and you drop your hands in embarrassment.

“i mean, i’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t doll face but–”

“oh my god, sukuna. i thought you were trying to rob me!”

“i’m smarter than that. the only thing inside your purse is lip gloss, which has very little value to me.” sukuna responds, dropping the little basket at his feet and taking the little stalk of flowers out of the top handle.

“i’ll have you know that it’s actually sold out in every store right now. so you could make bank if you sold it.”

“don’t tempt me. and for your sake, i’ll accept the apology you didn’t give me for just trying to rob me of my eyesight and for calling me a pervert? i’m getting really tired of the age gap jokes, y/n.” sukuna responds, as he lifts your hands at your sides and places the stalk of flowers in your hand.

you give him a big smile as you press your nose to the flowers, the scent fresh in your nose. and sukuna props down, setting a billowing white blanket on the ground before he taps the spot next to him and signals for you to sit next to him.

“who needs eyes?” you joke, as you squeeze his hands and set the flowers down next to the little basket.

“me, dipshit. how else am i supposed to look at you?”

you cover your hands with your cheeks as you watch him place all of the little things inside the basket next to you, laying them out perfectly. it’s albeit a weird assortment – two wine glasses, perfectly wrapped sandwiches, a mini-cake, and strawberry lemonade.

“well, stop perceiving me. this is so weird!” you murmur.

it’s enough to catch his attention and stop him in his tracks.

“what?”

the question makes you pause. and a little embarrassed. it was a little harsh to say while you were joking.

“oh, i mean…i didn’t mean it like that! i was making a joke about perceiving because eyes…vision…and i almost took your vision away! and you perceive with your eyes, because how else would you see…”

sukuna smiles, before shaking his head, and continuing spilling out the last of the contents – a set of gouache paints and two little small canvases. and he drops to his feet, yanking his shoes off, before sitting flat on the blanket and gesturing for you to join him.

“there’s no way in hell that was what you meant. but we’ll ignore that for the time being.” sukuna responds, hiking his legs to his chest and gesturing towards the spread he just put out.

you tilt your head to the side in confusion.

“you look very pretty today.” sukuna responds.

“thanks! you too!”

he narrows his eyes.

“uh huh. well, pick what we do first. the paint, the sandwiches, or the weird wine glass cake.”

“the wine glass cake? like from tiktok?” you ask.

“correct. i’m really bad at…cute dates. so…i did some research.”

sukuna refuses to look at you. because after admitting it, he’s suddenly busied himself with reading the back of the box of paints, like it’s the most riveting, intriguing thing he’s ever read in his life.

but the pink flush that’s creeping down his neck betrays him entirely, as you reach forward and push the little box down. and sukuna’s already glaring at you.

you place your chin on the top of his knees, reaching for one of his hands and smiling.

“you did research for a date?”

“you can choke on your spit.”

you grin.

“you really know how to turn a girl on.”

“you’re filthy.”

you grin.

“and you’re actually so precious, i–”

“don’t call me precious, y/n.” he whines, as he reaches forward to flick on your forehead.

you smile as you sit by his side, tucking the folds of your skirt under your leg as you reach for both of the wine glasses and hand him one.

“so how humbling was it to have satoru explain all this to you?” you ask.

he sneers.

“don’t even ask. he’s like the biggest nuisance i’ve ever met in my life. top ten worst moments of my life.” sukuna responds.

“i’m flattered you humbled yourself to him for me.”

“i actually asked suguru. they’re like…two peas in a pod, they can’t do shit without each other. the paints and stuff they gave me and the nice basket too.”

“that’s sweet of them. remind me to send them something later to thank them.”

sukuna scoffs.

“no need. they were more than happy to give it up for you.”

“ah yes. i hear they’re big fans of this camping bag story. the scouts honor and the fake story we had to tell them makes a lot more sense now.” you respond.

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“okay, you know what? sue me. i was like sixteen sleeping next to a girl for the first time. god forbid i enjoyed myself. and i don’t know why they’re all so hyperfixated on that story because it was a very normal thing to assume when you’re asked that question.”

you snort.

“and you say you’re not a pervert…”

sukuna leans forward, his eyes flitting down to his lips before he looks back up at you. and he can tell that you’re in a mood, that you’re trying to push his buttons by annoying him.

“you know i despise you right?” he whispers.

you grin, leaning in.

“is that right?” you whisper back.

“oh yeah. you irritate me.”

there isn’t even a shred of earnestness in the words he’s uttering. you know he doesn’t mean them.

“keep going.” you respond, as he presses a warm kiss to the side of your cheek.

“you’re a nuisance.” – a kiss to your forehead.

“an irritation.” – a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“like a fucking thorn in my side.” – and a kiss to the sweet spot right in your neck and his hand snaking up your thigh, which makes you nearly keel your head back from the sensation.

you place your hands on his cheek and pull him back, face flushed and his eyes nearly glazed over.

“are you crazy?” you whisper.

“what?” he asks.

“we’re in public, dumbass. you can’t just start trying to rile me up.”

sukuna leans back, obliging.

“so you admit it? i was riling you up?”

“oh, shut up.”

you reach for the sandwiches and unpeel one for sukuna. before he takes it, he places a tiny white box in your lap.

you frown. first the fancy date but the jewelry too?

“sukuna. you didn’t–”

“just open it. i’m impatient and i’ve been waiting all day. and i actually think you’ll like it. otherwise, you’re ungrateful and rude and you hate me.” sukuna responds.

you give him a tight lipped smile before you open the little box and actually smile.

it’s a dainty silver chain – the exact same as sukuna’s from the chain-links, but the build is a little thinner. and right at the center, a little charm of a star.

you reach forward for his chain, dangling around his collarbone. and surely enough, in addition to the original charm he had of an interlocked circle, there’s a star charm added right next to it.

“you always reach for it. when you’re talking or when we’re kissing. figured i’d get you your own since you’re such a big fan.”

“you are so…”

“perfect? sexy? the father of your children?”

“i was thinking adorable. can i answer d for all of the above?” you respond.

sukuna grins.

“survey says yes, princess.” he responds.

you yank the chain from the little box and hand it to him, before turning around for him to secure it on you. his fingers tickle against the nape of your neck, accompanied by a warm kiss, before he taps your shoulders to signify that he’s done.

“you know. you really are perceiving me right now.” you respond.

“and how’s that?”

“i know you’re obsessed with me and pay attention to every word i say.”

sukuna smiles.

“obviously.”

you jab at his side.

“i mean, i know you’re doing this because i mentioned picnics yesterday and always feeling left out. sure you could put two and two together that he never really bought me any nice gifts or anything when i said he ruined my birthday.”

“okay, captain obvious. and?”

you shove him once more, before leaning your head against his shoulder.

“well, i appreciate it. i know the whole…cutesy painting date isn’t your thing. we won’t have to do it again. and that you…you’re trying to make this whole thing special for me.”

sukuna scoffs.

“i’m offended. first and foremost, i always like to eat with you. every time i think that there’s no way you can amaze me more, you find another way to spill food on your clothes.”

“hey! that’s not true.”

“you already spilled on the blanket. second, this is a very violent way to eat cake. you literally mess up all the layers by doing that and destroy the piping on the cake which i can admit, i am a fan of. and third, i’m going to paint us as worms, which seems enjoyable to me.”

you curl your nose.

“worms?”

“yeah. what were you going to paint?”

“i don’t know. but it certainly wasn’t going to be worms. like the park or flowers or something.”

“boring. i’m going to paint us as slimy worms. and because we made it on this date, you’ll have to agree to put it up in the apartment, even if it’s ugly.”

“sukuna.” you whine.

“especially if it’s ugly. it’s a testament to our love.” he responds, dramatically placing his hands on his chest.

“you know, you’re so right. worms have been a really defining feature of your relationship.”

sukuna leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your lips and an additional one on your cheek.

“you just get me, princess!”

and he breaks the little joke by lifting one of your hands to his lips, and pressing a kiss on all four of your knuckles before pressing your hand to his cheek.

“and i have to do special things for a special person.”

you return the gesture, lifting his tattooed fingers to your lips and doing the same.

“you know…you’re really good at this type of thing.” you murmur.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean, being a boyfriend. and…and being supportive about everything. sometimes i feel like i’m trying really hard to be the best but…just comes naturally to you.” you respond.

sukuna shrugs.

“don’t know if i’m perfect but…loving you has always come really easy to me. i don’t really have to think twice about it because these are actually just things i want to do for you.”

you groan.

“see! that’s what i’m saying! you always just…say sweet things, do sweet things. sometimes i’m convinced i’m not even half deserving of it, just because sometimes i don’t reciprocate that back.” you respond.

sukuna leans forward.

“you know, you actually do though.”

“as if.” you groan.

sukuna pauses, before leaning his cheek against the tops of his knees and looking out at the expanse of grass in front of you. you follow his line of vision – to the dog running in the distance, the wide, billowing trees, and the little flower truck on the side – which you now realize is where sukuna copped the flowers from earlier.

“i mean, this type of thing. that we have, or…or the way i act around you. it means a lot to you because, you…you’ve never had this before. right?”

“yeah.”

“well, i haven’t had you before. i know you see me as perfect, but…but when you say that i can tell that you don’t mean it the way my mom or…or yuuji think that i’m perfect. in the untouchable way.”

you lean forward, cupping the side of his face.

“sukuna. you’re so touchable.” you joke.

“you’re disgusting.”

“you love it.”

sukuna smiles.

“yeah, i really do. it does actually mean the world to me that you think i’m perfect how i am and don’t think i’m larger than life.”

“if anything, your ego could be smaller.”

sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“and…and even the other day. i know you were acting squirrely and weird when yuuji was near us and heard us bickering, but i was half convinced that you were going to take his side at the end, when he started saying that stuff about me. because it is true and i have acted a certain way in the past…and, you would have every right to agree with him if you wanted to.”

you frown.

“no, i wouldn’t. you’ve never treated me like that and i know you’re being earnest when you say these things to me. this would be a very elaborate way to get into my pants if that was what you were trying to do. and i know it’s not.”

sukuna smiles.

“that’s what i’m saying. every other person for me has never given me that benefit of the doubt, but you always do. you were the person who thought to tell me that my grandpa died when you all came to get me and you were the one who wasn’t mad at me. the things you do for me are the same, in equal magnitude, as what i do for you. if this makes you feel good, or…or on top of the world, you have to know that’s how you make me feel too. i’m half convinced that you’re basically made for me at this point the way you get everything right on point.”

you lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his lips.

“i really think you’re made for me too, ryomen.”

sukuna groans, dramatically leaning his head back, before nearly pushing you over and peppering kisses to almost every surface on your face.

“quit fucking saying my name. you have no idea what that does to me.”

“i mean, i think i have an idea.”

sukuna clamps his fingers over your mouth, before pressing a few more lingering kisses to your face and pushing off. and subsequently, picks all of the grass out of your hair as you roll your eyes.

and after that sukuna, admittedly, very aggressively uses the wine glasses to portion off little slices of the cake and makes it a point to finish off yours when you can’t stomach the sweetness. and true to his promise – sukuna paints the two of you as worms, but at the park, stargazing.

it’s a little silly, the way he paints it. you were expecting it to be more gory or gross, but it’s so corny that it makes you smile. because he draws the two little worms, but distinguishes between the two of you, by swiping some of your pink paint and adding a little ribbon to the one that’s supposed to be you.

sukuna explains the stars. because before sukuna had dragged you out of that shitty bathroom bar, it’s what megumi and yuuji said in his drunken mess – he had pointed at two little stars and likened them to him and megumi.

and you’re almost positive that at the time, sukuna found it utterly ridiculous. but now, he understood it – the sentiment. that you and sukuna were two little worms, and two stars, and two little flowers too.

and to his promise, the two of you decide to place the little canvases you drew at the end of the kitchen counter.

it’s only then that you realize that you have to go the whole ten miles for sukuna the way he had done for you – countless times again. and that if you were going in blind in trying to make something special, you’d have to take a page out of his book and do some research.

and there was only one person who could really help you, who you’d rather die than humble yourself to than ask for help.

regardless of that, you still call sammy the next morning.

next part linked here

an: they're about to do it. anyways....there is a very real playlist to match the one that they talk about in the fic -- and it matches the way it described in the fic! so it's interleaved, the first song is a song that sukuna would have added, the second one that y/n added, the third sukuna, so on and so forth. it's linked here! happy listening babies

second an: thank you for the love on the last chapter. it makes my heart really warm bc all of that was actually based on a REAL MAN and real things that I have felt/have said to me and just having people comment that they felt seen by it or it made them feel a certain type of way actually made me really happy and so warm. this blog was one of the first things I did after I stopped being really, really sad and i'm glad that i'm able to share a little joy here and there, if that's what this fic is for you. anyways this is long and sappy and gross and actually I just love you all for enduring the ouchies and the sillies with me a little bit 💌

third an: double upload bc yall were so patient with me :D

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani79 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

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seeingivy · 4 months

Text

logical

megumi fushiguro x f!reader

an: do not enable a megumi as olivia rodrigo songs series. because I will write a bad idea right? one with drunk asf megumi drunk calling the reader. anyways, this one is based off of logical HEHE

it’s quite simple. you refuse to go on a mission with megumi fushiguro. but of course, satoru gojo, sees no reason. which is why the two of you are sitting on the train together, knees brushing against each other in the silence. swelteringly uncomfortable - as you fidget with your hands and he types away on his phone - and you both bite the bullet on what to say.

every thought that passes through your mind makes you hyperaware of that deep rooted, soft spot that you’re always going to hold for him - that despite all logical, rational thought - megumi fushiguro will always be scored on your heart in some way or another.

you’re not sure what it’s a byproduct of. you’d love to write it off as something simple, something as trivial as first love. that he was simply the first person to shower you in love that way, to show you that it was real, and that this tenderness would quickly harden over when you found someone new.

except as more days went on, almost a month since the two of you had fought and broken up, it was becoming more of a silent, naive hope of yours. because of course, the stupid cliches, not the ones that you wanted to be true, were of course the ones that were. that all rational thought, went out the window, when it came to megumi fushiguro.

that distance made the heart grow fonder. that your heart longed for him every time you passed by him in the dorms and shared those awkward, pinched smiles instead of the soft, sweet ones that he only saved for you. that whenever nobara said something stupid or yuuji irritated nanami, that you’d both instinctively turn to look at each other and laugh, just to now do it on instinct and get a painful reminder. that you can’t, that you shouldn’t, turn to one another anymore.

that it isn’t like that anymore. that you and megumi aren’t together anymore, and that of course, megumi could have any girl, so why would he possibly be with you?

“this is the stop.”

you look up, noting that he broke the silence first, as you give him a nod and exit the train car with him. you keep a considerable distance as you two walk up to the abandoned elementary school and lift the veil.

“emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. purify that which is impure.” you murmur, as you both give each other a curt nod and split onto other sides of the hallway.

when the two of you make your way back on the train, megumi can’t wrack his brain on how you were able to tell. and that itching, guilty feeling that’s turning over in his stomach - associated with the crimson red blood that’s pouring down your cheek and his own shortcomings, as always.

he had already shot a quick text to shoko, swallowing the guilt of waking her up in the middle of the night, to fix it the second that you got back.

“quit feeling sorry for yourself.”

megumi looks to your side, to find you folding his handkerchief, now coated in your blood, before you hand it back to him.

“what?”

“i can tell. that you’re brooding. but it was an honest mistake. that’s literally how the curse is supposed to work, y’know? it wouldn’t exactly be a curse otherwise.” you add.

megumi frowns, his retort dying on his tongue. that it’s not an honest mistake, because if you were able to discern the truth, he should have been able to do so too.

that when he was faced with it - that there were two manifestations of you, one that was the curse and one that was you - that he picked wrong.

and that worst of all, the thing that he had struck, with full force, was you. that the crimson red blood that was leaking from your cheek was because he had lifted his hand on you, before the curse had doubled over and pushed him over too.

when he came to, it was your turn. because standing to his left was another manifestation of him, so much so, that it left a lump in his throat at how much it looked like him. that when it was your turn to pick, you’d quickly sliced your sword straight through it’s stomach, like it was nothing instead of attacking him.

“i’m sorry that i did that to you.” he murmurs.

you look over at him, at the clear disdain in his eyes for himself, as you deflate.

“i wasn’t just saying that. that’s how the curse worked. you can’t exactly beat yourself up about it.” you respond.

“you could tell. i should have been able to as well.” he states, rather curtly.

you hum in response, that sickening soft spot burning.

“well, you were never the mind reader were you?” you respond.

he scoffs in response, the smallest makings of a smile on his face, as he lightly elbows you in the side. one of your stupid jokes, from your first date where you had dragged megumi to a tarot reader just for him to quite literally wish upon his death. you elbow him back, before you link your arm in with his and watch the way he deflates under your touch.

megumi does it a few times, before you finally bit the bullet and ask him to speak. he opens his mouth, like he’s almost about to talk, before he stops himself short from ever doing it.

“just ask.”

megumi looks to your side, not even half shocked that you were able to tell.

“how were you able to tell? that it wasn’t me?”

“easy. that megumi was pleading me. told me that he loved me, all that.”

“and?”

“you wouldn’t do that.” you murmur, before you get off the train and march back to campus on your own.

you see megumi again three days later. or more appropriately, you open the door and he barges into your room with a book secured under his hand.

“just come in, i guess.” you murmur, irritated.

it’s only when you turn around that you notice his haphazard appearance - that he’s panting, his cheeks are flushed, and that his hair is an unruly mess. you take the seat across from him, pinching your eyes at him, as he hands the book over to you.

the five love languages.

“what is this?” you ask.

“i get it now. what i did wrong. why-why we aren’t together anymore.”

you’re shocked at the bluntness in his word, that he’s willing to face it full on, as you take in his appearance. the pink near near his waterline and the darkness surrounding his eyes.

“i was talking to gojo-sensei and-”

“oh?” you respond, smirking at him.

“shut up.” he grumbles back, flipping open to the book.

“is this rock bottom for you? asking gojo-sensei for help of all people?”

“if i say yes, will you let me continue?” he asks.

“yes.”

he glares, before sighing, and murmuring under his lips.

“anyways. like i was saying, he gave me this book. and-and i get it now.” he states.

he opens it up to the marked page, each of the little lines highlighted, with his handwriting scribbled on the side.

quality time

physical touch

acts of service

receiving gifts

words of affirmation

you’re hyperaware of the fact that the last one, words of affirmation, has been circled and that megumi had neatly scribbled your name next to it on the line.

“i don’t get it.”

“it’s a thing in the book. that-”

he swallows hard, the edges of his lips quivrering, before he talks again.

“you can love someone but that person might not feel loved by you.”

you turn your head to the side, in confusion, as you gesture for him to go on.

“you feel most loved when i say it to you. and that’s not how i was showing love to you. it’s why you think i don’t love you.” megumi states.

you scoff.

“that’s not why we aren’t dating. we aren’t dating because you basically insinuated that you could have anyone but me. that i was lucky to be dating you.” you respond.

his face curls up in anger, as he tightens his fists on the able.

“when did i ever say that?”

“i asked you why you were so intent on the two of us staying together when all we do is hurt each other, i specifically asked you - how was i supposed to know that you loved me? and all you responded with was that there are lots of other girls out there and that you could easily have any of them. and then you had the audacity to try and kiss me after i tried to leave?”

megumi deflates, fluttering his eyes closed in frustration, as he uncurls his fists on the table. he flips to the back of the book, before turning it over to you.

“what the hell is this?”

“it’s a quiz. you take it to figure out which language is yours. and it ranks them - from best to worst or whatever.”

you look down at his results scribbled into the little lines. and at the fact that words of affirmation is dead last for him.

“so?”

“my love language is physical touch. that’s why, when i saw that you were upset, i was trying to make you feel better. in the way that i feel better.”

he stops, the pink dusting on his cheeks, as he awkwardly looks down at his hands.

“whenever you kiss me, i feel better. gojo-sensei can get on my nerves, nobara and yuuji can steal all my clothes, or…or i remember that my sister is dead and i feel better. when you hold my hand and trace those little shapes into my palms. or when you kiss my cheek. It-it’s stupid but-”

“it’s not stupid.”

“but for you. words are your thing. you-you have to hear them, right?”

you deflate.

“i guess, megumi. i would like to hear it sometimes. i know you’re not a big, talky feelings guy but…i’d just like the reminder sometimes. just so i know that-”

“i love you.”

you swallow hard, fighting the burning tears in your eyes, as you shake your head.

“you could have any girl you wanted. you said it yourself.”

megumi sighs, standing up from his side of the table, before he kneels at your side and leans his cheek against your shoulder. you can smell his soap, the irish spring smell enveloping your space.

“you want to know how pathetic i am at this whole words thing?”

“enlighten me.”

“i was trying to say that…there are lots of other girls out there and i could easily have any of them. but the one i want is you.”

you’re not sure what it is, more of the fact that the burden of hurt, right next to that soft spot of yours is slowly alleviating, but you can’t help but laugh in his face. at how ridiculous he is.

“it’s not funny.”

“megs! it’s kind of funny. in what world was i supposed to think that was what you meant?”

“you’re the mind reader. you should have been able to tell.”

you elbow him in the side, before you stand up, gesturing for him to stand up with you. and you loop your hands under his shoulder, leaning into his touch, hoping that it makes sense to him. that he understands that he’s forgiven.

“i’m shocked you humbled yourself to gojo-sensei to ask for advice, megs.”

“ugh. it was so embarrassing. but at least it was worthwhile.”

“aw. you did that all for me?” you joke, pinching the side of his cheek.

he smiles in response, leaning forward to press a kiss to the side of your cheek.

“i’d do anything for you, if that much wasn’t clear. but i’ll keep reminding you if i have to. say it a hundred times, properly, if you need it.”

you frown in response, giving him a nod, as you burrow your head into the softness of his neck and squeeze as hard as you can.

“don’t start thinking i don’t want you to kiss me though. i don’t need kiss deprivation.” you whine.

megumi laughs, pulling back, to tuck your hair behind your ear. he’s smiling ear to ear, so warm, that it makes your stomach rumble.

“okay. what else?”

“well, i still like gifts. and you and i should always be spending quality time together. and would it kill you to do something nice for me?”

“so…you want me to do all of them?”

“exactly!” you respond sarcastically, poking the side of his cheek.

he reaches forward to flick your forehead, before he pads into your kitchen.

“what are you doing?”

“well, i’m making you dinner. that’s an act of service. and technically a gift too? and we’ll eat it together, so that’s quality time.”

he quickly runs over and peppers three kisses over your face - one on your forehead and on each of your cheeks - before he continues.

“that’s physical touch. and you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. words. that’s all five.”

“you tag teamed two of them. that doesn’t count.”

“okay, you can have my credit card and buy yourself something.”

“that’s gojo-sensei’s credit card.” you deadpan.

“shut up.”

you roll your eyes, as you join him at his side in the kitchen.

“i was joking, you know? you don’t actually have to make me dinner or do all of them.” you murmur.

“i know that. i just want to.”

you give him a smile, as the two of you shuffle around each other, and fix your plates together.

taglist:

@porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg

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seeingivy · 1 year

Text

roommates (completed) ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

roommate eren x f!reader

after finding yourself in an unfortunate situation, you room with your co-workers best friend eren for the time being

content: roommates au, miscommunication trope, mutual pining, teeny tiny bit of angst, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, a bit of suggestive content, taylor alison swift, the most corny little eren that ever eren-ed

read on ao3

first meeting

tending to injuries

flu season

bad day

3:45 am

the morning after!

meet the parents

fall concert

miscommunication

how to fight

three days

befriend your landlord

the party scene

the scouts

your fiercest protectors

fall banquet

engaged and in love

important questions

you’re always welcome to send a lil question + request for lil bonuses abt this story and this man if you so desire (roommate eren nation rise, he will NEVER DIE)

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seeingivy · 3 months

Text

speak now

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

songs mentioned: the greatest by lana del ray and speak now by taylor swift! (minor mentions: daylight and forever winter by taylor swift)

an: LIGHTS CAMERA ACTION BITCHES!!!

previous part linked here

There’s something strange about showing Eren around an elementary school. Or strange about being around Eren at all.

There’s an overarching hunch, a quiet fear that parrots in your mind whenever you’re with him, stuck in those quiet pockets of time that you feel like he can see right through you, that every secret thought ricocheting in your mind is one that he’s entirely cognizant of - and that he hates it for it.

It almost fills you with disgust. How badly you want to be around him all the time, to be able to read him the way you’re positive that he can read you, just so that you can know what he’s thinking.

Is he upset with the way you reacted? Does he know how grateful you are towards him? Is he consoled by the fact that he’s fully forgiven? Does he care?

Does he think about you as much as you think about him?

The elementary school makes it worse. Almost emotional. Because it’s the fact that even though it’s not your school, it’s exactly how you remember it - so nostalgic that it’s nauseating. Though the colors are less vibrant, almost too dull this time around. The desks are comically small, when they used to be so expansive that you could barely reach the front corners.

“Did you ever collect Box-Tops?” you ask Eren.

He looks at you, face wrinkled in confusion as he shrugs. And the second his eyes lock with yours, you quickly swallow down your gulp of shame - at the lost, almost pinched look in his eyes - as he quickly averts his eyes.

Does he hate you for bringing it up? Does he want to berate you for rubbing in the fact that he had no semblance of a normal childhood?

You take the little jar, the little cardboard slips secured in the glass, as you hold it up to him.

“These are Box-Tops. They’re usually on the top of cereal boxes and granola bars and stuff. You can collect them and bring them to class and whoever gets the most in your grade usually gets a pizza party. It’s a charity-type thing where they get more funds for things like arts programs at your school by turning them into the foundation.” you murmur, placing the little jar in his hands.

“You can’t just…fund the schools properly?” Eren asks, wrinkling his nose.

“Are you crazy, Eren? Why would they ever do that?” you respond, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Eren smiles.

“Figures. D’you ever win?”

“Win what?”

“The pizza party.”

“Oh, maybe once or twice. They usually only buy two pizzas so you get a comically small slice so that it’s enough to go around for everyone. And I had Falco and Colt to share with - we had to split all the Box Tops we collected evenly between the three of us so I always felt lame turning like three or four in.” you state.

Does he think your complaint is stupid? That you should be grateful that you even got to experience it in the first place?

“What if there was an even number?”

“Rock paper scissors. Then Falco started crying when he lost, so we ended up giving it to him anyway.” you state.

“Very on brand.”

Eren smiles - brightly this time - as he sets the jar back onto the top of the filing cabinets and the two of you continue to awkwardly pace around the room. Eren’s overwhelmed with the memory - of Falco sobbing at his first Canadian Christmas when he was asked what he was thankful for - and the consistency makes him warm.

There’s something unsettling about the room - about how foreign it is to him. There’s a weird echo panging in Eren’s chest, somewhat caused by how longingly you seem to be looking at every little detail of the room. Running your hand over the hardwood desks, picking up the box of crayons, almost frowning at the pictures.

The thoughts that run through Eren’s mind are almost paralyzing, that he can barely keep his beating heart collected in his chest, and more awkwardly, that you know and are choosing to ignore it for civility sake.

Are you going to leave him when the show ends? Would you have left him if you lived a different life too?

Are you never going to end up together?

“Did you ever see Falco and Colt? When you were at school? S’that like a thing that happened?” Eren asks, poking around each of the little flyers on the bulletin board.

“Ah. Not really. Though sometimes when I was going to art class and Falco was going to computers or something, we’d kind of pass each other. We’d always be really excited to see each other. When we saw Colt, he always pretended like he didn’t even know who we were.” you state.

Eren can't stop the thoughts.

Do you hate him for bringing up a life that was robbed from you? The security of a school, of a quiet life because he selfishly picked you to be at his side?

Eren hums in response, as you head over to the last wall - the one left untouched by your inspecting eyes - as you fight the urge to smile. There’s little pictures of each of the students, Teddy right towards the top with a big toothy smile on his face. You point it out to Eren as you catch it before him, memorizing the soft look that spreads over his face when he finally catches light of it.

“You ever see Zeke?” you ask.

“Well, we technically watched a movie with him in it? So, that counts?” Eren shrugs.

“That’s right. Having your own parents and your brother as your source material must be so crazy.”

The thought that follows your comment nauseates Eren.

Are you trying to point out how different you are, so much so that you’ll never be able to be together?

“I can imagine exactly how you would be in elementary school.” Eren states, slinging his arm around your shoulder and bringing his face nearly flush with yours.

“Oh yeah?” you ask.

“You’d be like…this girl.”

You inspect the picture, rolling your eyes at the cop-out answer. Each of the little pictures is labeled with their hobbies or their interests, and naturally, Eren’s picked the girl who says she wants to be a songwriter.

“You’re funny.” you respond, sarcastically.

“S’nothing funny about it.” Eren responds.

“You’d be like…this one. He seems like the type of kid who would pull on a girl's pigtails, which according to Mikasa, is something that you actually did.”

Eren’s going to kill Jean.

“That’s just how you get a girl's attention.” Eren responds.

“Is that right? Had something you wanted to tell Mikasa really badly?” you smile.

Eren’s almost embarrassed that you know. That he feels the need to defend himself, to prove his devotion to you even though there would be no reason for him to do that.

“Ugh. Who told you?” Eren asks.

You can’t help but laugh.

“I can’t remember. Maybe Jean?”

“It was two days!” Eren whines.

You’re not sure how the topic came up, but Jean humbled you very fast when you claimed that you were the first person that Eren ever liked. Apparently you weren’t because Eren had sported a two day crush on Mikasa when they were younger, before he ever met you, which left you embarrassed - but also ready to tease him to oblivion.

“Eremika…” you state.

Eren clamps his hand over your mouth, as you quickly shove him off.

“Shut up.” Eren states.

“It’s funny! Mikasa’s getting married and you’re stuck at a five-year old’s piano concert. With seats all the way in the back, mind you.”

Eren rolls his eyes, as he leans back and sits on top of one of the desks. You follow suit, ignoring the little creak, as your legs swing over the top of the desk.

“What was your signature move in elementary school for the boys?”

“Was I supposed to have game as a seven year old?”

Eren scoffs.

“Well, we can’t all be talented.” Eren teases.

“I hardly qualify hair pulling as a game. That’s an annoying way to get attention.”

Eren smiles, leaning forward and curling his hands around a lock of your hair, before he lightly tugs. His face is so close to yours that you can make out the tiniest wrinkles in his skin, marked around his eyes.

“Annoyed?” Eren teases, his voice barely a whisper.

You shake your head, ever so slightly. A jarring movement feels too loud, like he’ll move away at the smallest of breaths, like a deer in the woods.

“Down to my very core.” you respond.

Eren smiles, the wrinkles even more pronounced, as you almost lean your forehead against his, skin ghosting each others. The thoughts are racing at this point, so fast that Eren can barely feel his breaths.

Is he ever going to be in love with someone who isn’t you?

“I feel the need to clarify. It was two days.” Eren states.

“Two days of hopeless pining.”

“Nothing compared to the three years of it that I did with you.”

You roll your eyes, cheeks burning.

He knows. It's written all over your face.

“Nothing compares to a puppy-love childhood crush.” you state.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I get the whole innocence of the puppy-love thing, but nothing pales comparison to the intensity of a teenage dream.” Eren states.

Eren watches your eyes waver and feels his throat constrict.

You know. It's written all over his face.

Thankfully for him, and less so for you, Sukuna ruins the movement. His shouting from the doorway breaks that quiet bubble, quickly pulling you both farther away from each other.

“What the hell are you guys doing? It’s starting in five minutes.”

You and Eren settle into your seats at the back, right by the door, as the lights dim in the little auditorium. They’re a warm golden, the smell of fresh paint tickling your nostrils.

Sitting all the way in the back has you and Eren weaving your heads around all the people crowded in front of you, the tiny cell phone lights illuminating each row.

You catch sight of Lana and Sukuna are aggressively gesturing at Teddy on the stage from their cushy seats in the front row at your left - Sukuna trying to get him to smile for a picture while Lana tries to signal to him to fix his untied shoelaces. The coddling makes your heart burn.

Eren digs into his coat pocket and pulls out a little camcorder that he hands to you.

“For?” you ask.

“Can you record it for me? I just…want to watch him in real time.”

You smile.

“Of course, I can.” you murmur, taking the little camera from him and flipping it open in your hands.

“Don’t record the other kids. I don’t give a fuck.” Eren states.

“Who knew you felt so passionately about kindergarten piano concert etiquette?” you jeer.

“You would be shocked. Lana’s basically out of storage by the time she gets to Teddy.” Eren groans.

You roll your eyes.

“I think it’s sweet.”

Eren wonders if there’s anything you can’t find the good in. His wavering suspicion is that it’s him - that you’re the worst thing he’s ever seen. So tainted that there’s barely any semblance of light left in him.

Eren’s hanging onto the end of your words, wanting to hear the spiral of thoughts running through your mind. Your affinity to look towards the positive, to soak up all the good, to point out all the love in the room - it was something he found himself chasing even though he knew he was barely half deserving of it.

“I just mean…when I was younger, my mom would tell me that my friend’s mom recorded me singing too and then sent it to her. And I was always really touched that they saw me and didn’t think god, it’s another kid I have to sit through. Like no, that’s Y/N! That’s my daughter’s friend.”

Eren deflates. He figures that it comes so naturally for you - seeing the good - because he thinks the law of attraction is real; that like attracts like, that people find what’s similar to them. And that he always seems to be the antithesis to it.

He’s always the exception to your rule.

“And some parents are late. They’re running here from work, or…or they were late because they had another kid to take care of first and…and it still makes the kid feel special, even if they don’t know it.” you whisper.

You twist the camera around in your hands as Eren gives you a lopsided smile, an underlying sentiment you can’t really place mirrored in his features. You’d memorize his expression just to agonize about it later, in the safe confines of your room, but your train of thought is cut off by a tapping on your shoulder.

It’s a little girl - with dark skin and braided hair - barely the age of seven. Her little legs can’t even reach the tan colored floor, her sparkly purple shoes glittering in the dim light.

“Hi.” she states.

Eren leans over, a cautious arm on the small of your back, as you lean your head closer to hers and whisper.

“Hi. Is something wrong?” you whisper.

“Our dresses are matching colors.” she states.

You look down - the white flowers printed on your dress matching her frilly pleats. It’s an painfully relieving breath, as you give her a smile.

“My name’s Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Y/N? Like the pop artist?”

You freeze, freezing cold ice shooting down your spine.

“I wish my mom named me after someone cool. My name’s Grace. It was my grandma’s name.”

You can barely muster out a response, Eren’s fingertips at your side squeezing shaking the shock out of your mind.

“I’m sure your grandma was pretty cool.” you respond, barely registering the words as they leave your lips.

“I mean, yeah. She was old. But no one’s as cool as Y/N L/N.” she responds, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You can see Eren smiling out of your peripheral vision, giving a polite nod to the parents seated at her side, who’ve now caught onto the fact that their daughter is talking to a complete stranger. Eren’s quick to diffuse the situation, holding out a hand to them.

“I’m Eren. This is Y/N. We’re here for Teddy. Curly blonde hair, big brown eyes?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. I’m sorry…did you say your name was Y/N?”

You give them a sheepish smile, bringing your hands to the coarse skin above your elbows and pinching.

“That’s right.”

“Our daughter’s a really big fan.” they state.

You smile, looking back down at her dark eyes, this time wide in shock.

“Is that right?” you ask, trying to give her the warmest smile you can.

Her parents lean down closer to her ears, the overwhelming sense of a flowery perfume taking over your senses, as you watch them talk to her, softly.

“Okay. Ask her nicely, okay?” they ask.

Grace gives them an obedient nod, before turning to you and puffing her chest out to you.

“Can I have a hug?”

“Oh. You…you want a hug?”

“Please? It’ll be quick.” she asks, her little voice shrill with a hopeful tone.

There’s a soft sense of elation that spreads through you, your cheeks warm at such an innocent request, as you can barely stop your arms from shaking. You open up your arms to her, as she nearly jumps into your embrace, and you squeeze her little frame as tightly as you can. The smell of strawberries wafts off her hair, accompanied by a soft giggling sound in your ear that nearly brings tears to your eyes.

You look up to find her parents, an awkward pinched smile in their eyes, as you give them a polite smile.

“I promise, I’ll take a picture with her after the show, okay? And if I forget, please come find me and remind me.”

The relief is apparent in their faces - their sickeningly grateful smiles over something as simple as a picture - as you let go and she settles back into the seat next to you.

You have to settle for recording Teddy with one hand, a deathlike grip in the camera, only because Grace refuses to let go of your other hand for the rest of the show.

Eren’s surprisingly really good with kids. Or really, not surprisingly at all, because you were finding it hard to identify something that Eren was really bad at. Because even the mistakes he did make were so painfully endearing, so warmly thoughtful that you could barely accost him for it.

He's making jokes with all the kids - participating in their rock paper scissors contests, playing pranks on their parents, and stealing cookies for them when people aren't looking.

You guys are the last ones to leave the school. But it’s only because Eren’s so enthralled with talking to all the passing people - taking pictures, signing napkins, and making phone calls to all their loved ones - that it makes your chest swell.

The narrowed eyes still make you nervous, an underlying feeling of inadequacy - of embarrassment for hiding out for so long - is all but nauseating, something Sukuna picks up on right after Eren.

He lets Lana take the lead on the pictures and mingling with all the parents, apparently something that was Sukuna’s forté, as he keeps his arm linked with yours, backs cold against the cement wall.

“You know, you can go make your rounds with Lana. I don’t want to ruin your son’s piano concert for you.” you state.

“This shit is overrated.”

You smile.

“You’re lying.” you state.

Sukuna looks over at you, brown eyes fixed on yours, as you watch a smile curl on his face. It’s almost boyish - and it’s the first time that you’re acutely aware of the fact that Sukuna’s probably the youngest one here - living a life so vastly different from yours.

“I am lying.” Sukuna states.

“Do you like it here, Sukuna?” you whisper.

“I’m better at this than I was at the whole - award show, celebrity world thing. People here are really easily impressed.”

“Is that right?”

“I handed a woman a lemonade earlier and she said God bless you. Over a fucking lemonade.”

“That’s just basic human decency, sweetheart. Were you raised by wolves?” you ask.

Sukuna scoffs.

“Basically.” he responds.

You hum in response, watching Lana crouch on the ground and press her cheek to Teddy’s as Eren quickly snaps the picture for them.

“Can I ask you a question?” Sukuna asks.

“Is me saying no going to stop you?” you ask.

“Probably not.”

“Proceed.” you respond.

“So, what did you really do for two years? And don’t give me the same shitty bullshit as last time. I want to know what it was that you did.” he responds, tone unrelenting.

You pause, mulling over the question. You knew it would come soon enough, the utter bleakness of it all, but you suppose it's like ripping off a bandaid. That it'll become softer to talk about after you do it so many times.

“It’s not pretty.” you respond.

“I’ve always thought you were really ugly. It’s hardly a difference for me.”

“Lovely. In a world of boys, you really are a gentleman, Sukuna.”

He grins, nursing the glass of lemonade in his hand.

“To be a woman is to perform. Now, tell.” Sukuna responds.

The truth of the matter is that there’s nothing to tell. Because you didn’t do anything.

“I got home from doing the interview and spent the entire week with Falco and Colt. I-I basically didn’t let them leave my side. Falco slept with me at night, Colt basically watched over me like a hawk.”

It’s a crashing plate, worried eyes, and an embarrassingly debilitating loss.

“And then Falco came into my room one day and told me that The Lucky One sold more vinyls than all of my other albums combined, in one week.” you state.

“Non-fluff shit prevails. I’ve been telling you.”

“I didn’t approve of that album being distributed as vinyl. For physical sales - at all. It wasn’t about the money or the records or- or any of that. And when Falco told me, I-”

Sukuna looks over, at the lump in your throat. He knows the feeling too well - the sweaty skin, the heavy tongue, and slips his hand into yours at his side.

“I broke his phone.” you state.

“What?”

“I took it from his hands and I smashed it. Then my own too. That’s partially why I never called you guys. I didn’t exactly memorize your numbers and I wasn’t in a position where I was going to just ask for them back.” you state.

“Not like you would have called anyways.” Sukuna states.

“I only knew Mikasa was having an engagement party because she sent me a physical invitation. Only knew Marco died because of the news. I-I barely knew what any of them were doing when I was gone, still.”

You bite your tongue, the tiniest metallic taste enveloping your mouth, as you pull the now warm, puffed up flesh away from your teeth.

“I knew that if I came back, it would mean I would be sucked back into it. What’s your response going to be, hint at it with this song, come back like this and…I’d rather lock myself in my house then do that again. I love songwriting, but not enough to sacrifice my dignity. I enjoyed my career but it drained the life out of me.��

Sukuna’s lip twitches. You choose to ignore it for the time being.

“I took up different hobbies. Got a sewing machine, made sourdough from scratch, I even learned flower arranging. But, I could tell that I must have seemed like I was off my rocker or something. My parents and my brothers never really left my side, I could tell that they were always worrying about me, and-and I hated that because-”

Sukuna stops you before you get too choked up, now standing in front of you, his back blocking the sight of you from any of the people milling around the courtyard.

“I know that’s a shitty answer. That I should have been doing something worthwhile. But, but- I was fucking tired. I was done doing all this and I can’t exactly…be a functioning member of society or something. I can barely stand here without people giving me a second look or trying to get a discreet picture.” you whisper.

“I just wanted to know. I’m not giving you shit for it.” he whispers.

You frown.

“You aren’t. But maybe you should.”

You look over his shoulder, at Eren squishing Teddy’s cheeks with his fingers as Lana takes a picture of them - far too close to barely even get the two of them in it together.

“He fought for me when I wasn’t even here anymore. I was moping in my house, breaking plates whenever I got frustrated, and he was still moving forward.” you murmur.

Sukuna pauses.

“Y/N. Don’t do that. I need you to be so careful with what the fuck you do after you leave here.”

The sense of urgency in his voice catches you off guard.

“What?”

“Y/N. It won’t happen if you’re careless. You cannot wallow in your own pity about this, I need you to tread lightly, okay?”

“What won’t happen?”

Sukuna glares at you.

“You and him. You could spend years pointing fingers at each other, who didn’t do what. You won’t get him back if you stay there when he’s moved forward.”

“I don’t want him.” you whisper.

You barely believe it when it comes out of your mouth.

“You disgust me, Y/N.” he states.

“You’ve always had such a way with words.”

“And you’ve always had a lack of critical thinking. Why wouldn’t you want him?”

“Why would he want me?”

“He just does. The same way you just do.”

You swallow hard.

“Fine. Be a fucking idiot for all I care. If you do ever knock some sense into that thick fucking skull of yours, just be careful. Eren knows that he has to prove he cares about you for you to come back to him. You need to know that he barely thinks he’s deserving of anything from you, so much so, that he won’t ever make the move.”

Sukuna doesn’t mince his words. You wish he could have you through every important decision of your life just so you wouldn’t stumble and fall as much as you did.

“Eren’s called the shots since you were fifteen. You’re going to have to call all the next ones. And for the love of god, really. I’m so tired of that fucking freeloader showing up whenever he pleases. And you look really ugly when you look sad, so just do it right please.”

You smile.

“Are you insinuating I’m pretty when I don’t look sad?”

“I hope you fall off a bridge and never recover.” Sukuna responds.

The sniffling cues Eren onto the fact that you’re crying. The air pressure of the plane is overwhelming in his ears, almost so loud that he misses it, but he counts himself lucky that you’ve always been an obscenely loud crier. He peeks his head over the division over your seats and reaches forward to poke your head.

“Hey. You okay?” he asks.

You give him a meek nod. You know for a fact that he doesn’t believe it for one second.

“Can I come over there for a second? I don’t want to talk from so far away.” Eren asks.

“Isn’t that like…illegal? Two people in one seat.” you murmur.

“This is first class, the seat is basically a bed. And there’s no laws in the air.”

You frown.

“Eren. Laws still exist in the air. They’re just local.”

Eren smiles.

“Well, aren’t you a little genius? Scooch over.”

You shift on the seat, pulling your blanket closer to you as Eren very precariously makes his way over to your seat, the two of you almost cramped in the small space. It’s almost funny how there’s barely any room, your foreheads pressed together from the lack of space.

“Hey.” he whispers.

“Hi.”

“What’s wrong, Margaret?”

You shake your head. His hands are warm on your sides.

“Come on. Tell me. I’m really good at fixing problems.”

“I know.”

Eren can’t place what the tone is in your voice - but it comes out all strained and raspy - that it rubs him the wrong way.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” you clarify.

“Which way do you mean it?” Eren asks.

You sigh.

“I mean. You handled everything considerably well, even if it wasn’t easier for you. You…you waited until I was ready to hear it, until I asked to be told your side of the story. And you put it all together, wrapped in a perfect bow with that documentary, and then took me to see Lana and Sukuna too because you knew I’d want to.” you mumble.

“Wrapped in a ribbon. Who the fuck calls it a bow?”

You roll your eyes, earning you a laugh from Eren that’s so loud it makes you laugh too. You reach forward to clamp your fingers over his mouth, muffling the loud sound, as you shush him loudly.

Eren pauses.

“I’m glad it worked. And I had a lot of time to think. You don’t have as much, but…we’ll help you. With whatever you want to do.” Eren states.

You give him a nod, unsatisfied with the answer.

“What were you thinking?” Eren asks.

You fish out the little slip of your pocket, nearly smushing your face into his in the process, and place the little paper in his hand.

“This is…Satoru Gojo’s phone number?” Eren asks.

“Yeah. I got it from Sukuna.”

“For what purpose?”

You pause.

“I’m going to bury Scott Clarkson into the ground.”

Eren’s caught off by the answer.

“You’re what?”

“What answer were you expecting?”

“I’m not mad at it. I was just thinking more…I want to write music again. I’m not a quitter.”

You frown.

“I thought about that. But it hasn’t exactly worked for me like that. I even tried when I was at the beach but I came up with nothing. But that’s not relevant, I don’t need to write music to end him.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess. But it’s better that way. Using exactly what they tried to take away from you to get back at them.” Eren responds.

You smile.

“You’ll help me?”

Eren rolls his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I made it clear that I’d do anything for you. Even this. Especially this.”

You smile. You reach forward, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing hard.

“Thank you. And I get what you’re saying about the music, but it just isn’t happening, so we’ll have to think of something else.”

“I have an idea. When we get back to set, okay? I think it’ll help.” Eren states.

You nod.

“Okay. I trust you.” you respond.

The sentiment sends a shiver down Eren’s spine.

“I don’t know how it’ll go. I can’t promise that it’ll work out the way we want it.” Eren clarifies.

You smile.

“I was trusting you to help me get back into songwriting, not into bringing him down. I’m talking about help into being…myself again.”

Eren’s eyes flicker, down to your lips, and then back up to your eyes. You almost swear that you imagined it.

“Do you think I’m different?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

You pale.

“Do you hate me for it?” you ask.

Eren shakes his head.

“I like you better like this.” he whispers.

Eren reaches forward, tucking the loose hairs back behind your ear, before his warm fingers are secured around the nape of your neck. He does it a second time, looks at your lips, and this time you swear the corners of his mouth are twitching too.

“You weren’t very confident when I met you, almost like you didn’t think you were cut out to do this. Unsure of why you even had a place in the room. Then you went so far away from me, worked yourself so hard, that I barely remember you even smiling at any of us anymore. You were angry, then you were heartbroken, and apparently you broke a lot of plates when you weren’t with any of us?”

You roll your eyes.

“I’m going to kill Falco.”

“Colt.” Eren corrects.

You scoff.

“No way. Eren, he kind of hates you.”

“Kind of? Colt was ready to punch me in the face when he first got to set. Rightfully so.” Eren responds.

“It’s actually not rightfully so. He didn’t even know what you did.” you state.

Eren pauses.

“I know. He got here and asked me first thing what it was I did to you. Then he wanted to punch me in the face when I told him.”

You shrug. You can tell that Eren’s waiting for an explanation - green eyes looking at you expectantly as you give him a nod.

“It felt wrong to talk to him about it. Falco knew you a little bit better, but even for him…they would just start bad mouthing you just to make me feel good. But that would just make me feel worse because…I don’t get it. Hating someone just because things went wrong.”

You crack your knuckles.

“It’s like Ricky. I can badmouth him. He was horrible. He’s a bad person and he literally left me out there to rot just to embarrass me. He did it to Lana, to Teddy. You…I just thought you didn’t like me. I couldn’t really fault you for how you felt. And I loved you. I don't get off on talking shit about you when you were my entire world.”

Eren smiles.

“You had every right to badmouth me.”

“But that’s the thing. I just didn’t want to. Even if things ended badly, you still made me really happy. We still did this entire thing together and-”

“We’ll finish it together.”

You smile, giving him a nod.

“You know when you’re in a relationship and you feel like you get to see a different side of that person? Because you’re so close?” Eren asks.

“Yeah.”

“That’s how you came back to us. Feeling close again. A fresh slate, back to what drew us all to you in the first place. So many things in this industry, in this job are so fake. I mean our job is to literally pretend. You are an overwhelmingly genuine person. Even more so now. You are different. We’re all going to love you for it.” Eren states.

For someone who’s so convinced he’s horrible with words, Eren always seems to have the perfect ones for you.

“Will you leave if things go south?” you ask.

“No.”

“Then we can do this. I’m positive.” you state.

“What makes you so sure?”

You squeeze Eren's hand three times.

“I don’t have anything to lose, Eren.”

When you get back to set the following morning, you don’t miss Connie very loudly whispering with Eren behind you. You’re positive Jean and Mikasa are eavesdropping just as much as you are, their eyes fixed a little too hard waiting for Eren’s response.

Did you guys kiss?

No, Connie, am I crazy?

It makes your heart sink a little bit, but you ignore it as Eren comes up at your side, giving you a bright smile. He reaches for the little glass jar to your left and gives you a wink before he calls for everyone’s attention.

“First things first, Falco. Good job on press. That was one of the funniest fucking interviews I’ve seen in my life.”

Falco laughs, as you turn your head to the side, pretending to do a little bow as everyone pats him on the back, and you look at Mikasa.

“What did I miss?”

Mikasa smiles, pulling up the video at your side.

“Levi’s direction was to not answer any questions about you. Naturally, that was all they asked about so we all decided to coordinate our answers and basically say that we didn’t know you.” Mikasa states.

“What?”

“It sounds stupid, but it was so funny. Some of them started actually believing it. And Falco took it so far, he started pretending like he wasn’t even related to you.”

Mikasa hands you the phone as you play the video, barely containing your laughter at how stupid the video is. Falco’s so confident in his words, so self-assured that it’s making Gabi burst out into laughter, and obviously messes with the interviewer so bad that they can’t even continue.

It makes you happier than it should - their first experience being so overwhelmingly positive.

“And we all wore ribbons in our hair, which didn’t help matters anyway.” Mikasa states.

“Levi’s a menace. He’s milking this so much.” you state.

“That was actually my idea.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean-”

“I know. I just want you coming back to be a big deal. It’s not an easy thing for you to do. You’re going to get every bit of hype for it.”

You smile, reaching forward to link arms with her, as Eren makes a booing sound.

“Are you done? Can I talk now?”

You shove Eren.

“Stop being rude.”

“I’m not being rude. You guys interrupted me.”

“Why were you talking before us? That’s so inconsiderate of you.” Mikasa states.

You laugh as Eren rolls his eyes, handing each of them a tiny white slip and a marker, before he takes his spot next to you and gives you a big smile.

“Y/N is going to write a song. Multiple actually. I want you to write down ideas for her and she’s going to pull one out every morning and read it to us. Then she has to play whatever she came up with, even if it was only one line, at the end of that day.” Eren states.

“Eren.” you start.

“No buts. You guys know the drill.”

You watch as everyone follows his instructions, excitedly whispering to each other as their pens move, and you look over at Eren. He drops his own slip into the cup, the first one, with his name neatly looped on the outside as he gives you a smile.

“I’m not going to be able to write anything.” you state.

“Well, you heard the rules. You’ll have to write something.”

“Eren.”

He shakes his head, handing you his journal, opening it to the marked page as you flip through the sheets.

“I did this a while back, when I was getting back into it. It helps a lot more than you think. And you can ask the person who gave you the slip for help if you really need it, but that person only.”

You take the book for him, watching everyone give you excited smiles as the cup fills up just as fast, and flip though the pages.

“write a song about me and sukuna” And underneath, the lyrics to a song called Daylight.

“write a song about connie’s one year anniversary of being sober” with Levi’s distinct handwriting and the lyrics to a song called Forever Winter scribbled messily on the page.

And the last one makes your throat bob in your chest.

“write a song about y/n”

You read over the lyrics, pressing your fingers against the ink, as you fervently read the lyrics.

We didn't know that we had it all But nobody warns you before the fall Don't leave, I just need a wake-up call

I'm facing the greatest The greatest loss of them all The culture is lit and I had a ball I guess I'm signing off after all

You look up at him, his attention drawn away as he shuffles the cup in his hand to mix up the slips and then holds the cup out to you. Everyone’s watching, waiting for you to pull a piece, as you set the book down, and give them all a meek nod.

There’s a resounding sound of cheers, and an obscene amount of screaming from Connie and Sasha, as you close your eyes and pull out the first paper. You open up the little slip, floored by how random the request is.

“Write a song about upstaging someone's wedding. Connie.” you state.

A resounding smack fills the room - as you look over to find Jean hitting Connie.

“I told you not to put that in.” Jean yells.

“What? It’s funny! Eren said random stuff helps with this.” Connie defends.

“Dumbass. You just had to write something about ruining a wedding?” Jean grates.

“Who the fuck said it was about you, you egomaniac?” Sasha asks, reaching forward to flick his forehead.

“Who else is getting married, dumbass?” Jean responds.

“Why are you so mad? You’re clearly projecting your own personal issues.” Connie states, as Jean and Sasha follow him out of the room, their shouts filling up the quiet air.

Eren turns to you, a bright smile on his face. You want to smack him.

“I’ll see you tonight. Fully written song and all.” Eren states, lightly shoving you as he walks past.

You groan, leaning your head on Mikasa’s shoulder, as you hand her the little slip.

“Eren’s so fucking annoying sometimes. How am I supposed to write a song about this?” you complain.

“You’ll think of something. You’re amazing.” Mikasa states.

“I um…actually got you something. And I had something I wanted to ask.”

You took Sukuna’s words seriously. And had every intention to make amends.

“Really?” she asks.

“Yeah. It’s a keychain.”

You pull it out, the little penguin charm hanging off the end, as she takes it into her hands. It makes your heart swell - the way she carefully turns it over in her fingers, the excited smile on her face.

“Thank you so much, Y/N.”

“It’s kind of stupid but…it’s blue? Like something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue?” you state.

Mikasa’s smile gets wider, her shoulders relaxing as she reaches forward to give you a hug.

“Thank you. I love it.”

“It’s just a penguin.” you murmur.

“Maybe to someone else. But I haven’t forgotten that we watched Happy Feet at midnight the day we were supposed to film the Colossal Titan reveal and almost missed shooting that day.” she states.

You can barely contain your elation this time. That Mikasa remembers the memory just as well as you do. You both laugh for a second before you muster the courage to ask.

“Listen. I want to ask something but I don’t want to overstep so know that you can say no.” you state.

“Okay.”

“I know that we have our own rooms, but I wanted to ask if you wanted to share again? Colt and Porco always snore and…and you have your entire life to share a room with Jean but only a few more months to share one with me?” you mumble, voice nearly shaking.

Mikasa brings her hands to your shoulders, squeezing hard as she can barely contain your smile.

“Really? You really want to share with me?” she asks.

“Are you crazy? You’re like the best roommate I’ve ever had.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, really. Falco kicks, Colt smells, Porco snores, and Eren’s nothing compared to you. You're like a princess compared to them.”

Mikasa smiles.

“Deal. Lets go switch the signs - to their rightful places - right now.”

“What if Jean disagrees?” you ask.

Mikasa rolls her eyes.

“He can choke for all I care.” Mikasa states, linking her arm in with yours as you both pound up the stairs right to the hallway.

You take the marker, scribbling out Mikasa and Jean’s names (and Connie’s comments underneath) as you hand her the marker to do the honors. You both admire the little sign together, arms wrapped around each other, as Eren, Connie, and Jean join you two.

“What the fuck?” Jean asks.

You smile at him.

“Sorry. Not your room anymore.” you respond.

“One could argue that it was never really yours in the first place, Jean.” Mikasa states.

“Dude, you guys are so annoying.” Jean states.

“Did you just call your fiance, dude?” Eren asks, earning him a shove from Jean.

Connie comes up at Mikasa’s side, taking the marker from her hands, and adding his signature comment to finish off the new sign. You look over at him and smile, tugging him into your hug with Mikasa - as you all admire the door.

Y/N-MIKA FOREVER!!!

And underneath, Connie’s lopsided handwriting:

WE’RE SOOO FUCKING BACK

You understand why everyone was crowding you and Eren when they thought you were going to kiss in season two. It’s because you got to set early to make sure you got a good seat for Falco and Gabi’s love confession - so excited that you could barely eat your lunch.

You can’t help but watch them a few feet away from you, nervously kicking their legs on their chairs, as your notebook lays forgotten in front of you.

There’s a group of shitty lyrics on the page, so embarrassing that you shut the page as Eren approaches and takes the seat next to you and Mikasa.

“I wasn’t going to read them, silly goose.” Eren states, lightly shoving you as you tuck the book under your ankles.

“Good. I’d kill you before you tried.”

“Wow. Standing up weddings has you that mad?”

“The opposite actually.” you state.

Eren rolls his eyes as he scooches closer to you, halfheartedly shaking Levi’s hand as he passes. You look over to Falco and Gabi again - the two of them increasingly nervous, Gabi more so for some reason, as you lean over and whisper into Eren's ear.

“Ten bucks this pushes their real love confession ten years into the future.” you state.

“What?”

“Think about it. We had to kiss and it pushed things back basically a year and a half because we got all flustered and confused. Falco’s doing a whole bit, they’re going to be nervous about this for years.” you state.

Eren rolls his eyes, reaching forward to elbow you in the side.

“Bullshit.”

“I’m right! The same thing happened with Hange and Levi.” you defends.

“Rookie mistake, Y/N. Do I know your little brother better than you? He’s not half as pussy as you or Levi.”

“Touché, asshole. If he likes her so bad, why hasn’t he said it yet?” you respond.

“He’s a romantic. He’s waiting for the right time.” Eren responds.

You look over at the two of them, splitting a box of Tic-Tacs, as Levi walks back to his cues and sets up the cameras.

“Think about it. In a relationship, you’re either a Hange or a Levi. You’re either a Jean or a Mikasa. Falco’s obviously more like Mikasa and Levi. And Gabi’s like Jean and Hange. She has to make the move.”

“You’ve got it all wrong. Gabi’s the Levi and Falco’s the Hange.” Eren responds, nearly offended at your statement.

“Are you an idiot?”

“Watch. I’ll prove it to you.”

Eren pushes up off the floor, dragging Niccolo along with him, as they two of them approach Gabi and Falco. You’re not sure what they’re whispering - but you can tell that Falco and Gabi are flustered by the premise - and Eren and Niccolo are far too elated as Eren walks back over to you, this time with Niccolo in tow.

“Hi Nico.”

“Hi Y/N.”

You look over at Eren, glaring at him, as he gives you a sheepish shrug.

“Okay, guys. We’re going to start rolling. Falco, Gabi, you ready?”

“Yeah.” they respond in unison, giving each other a little fist bump as they take their seats on the floor.

“Was no one going to ask me? I’m in this scene too.” Colt complains, earning a fit of laughter from the crew.

Everyone quiets down as the lights dim on the set, the group of you hunching forward, trying to contain your smiles as you look at each other. It’s only then that you’re reminded of how good Falco and Gabi are at acting, the painstaking agony in their voice almost making you shiver.

“I helped make the attack on Liberio happen. I met a wounded soldier at that hospital, and without knowing it was Eren Jaeger, I sent letters from him to his allies using the mailboxes outside the zone.” Falco starts.

Mikasa leans over to look at Eren, mouthing the words “fucking bastard” as you try to contain your laughs. Levi gives the four of you a warning glance, as you muster out an apologetic smile.

“A lot of people died in Liberio. So….it’s my fault that Udo and Zofia died.” Falco finishes.

“I see…” Gabi responds.

Falco swallows hard, a pink blush on his cheeks, as you all excitedly smile.

“Also, I love you. I didn’t want you to inherit the Armored Titan. That’s why I became a warrior candidate. So…so that we could get married…and be happy forever.”

Gabi’s as red as a tomato. You almost feel bad for teasing the two of them so hard but it’s so endearing it makes your heart squeeze.

“I wanted you to live a long life!” Falco shouts.

“What are you saying?” Gabi responds.

“I might turn into a Titan at any moment. I just wanted to get it all out there before I’m gone for good.”

It's silent - leave for Gabi's tears before she quickly stands up. You watch as Gabi aggressively wrestles with Falco, pulling off the little black band secured around his waist, before she throws it on the ground, her chest heaving.

You sincerely hope Levi campaigns for them to win an award for this one.

Levi calls cut, as Hange runs up to the two of them, excitedly cheering them both on as they avert their gaze from each other. Eren’s quick to jump up, grabbing you by the wrist as he pulls you up to the group of them, a devious smirk on his face.

Niccolo’s quick to join his side, the two of them crossing their arms over their chest and smirking at Falco, as he sighs.

“Really, guys?” Falco asks.

“Really. You agreed to it, little dude.” Eren states.

Falco rolls his eyes, nervously eyeing Gabi - who is excitedly jumping up and down in front of a very unamused Levi - before he walks over to her and plants a big kiss on her cheek. The group of you all gasp, Gabi’s skin burning red, as Falco runs away, claiming he needs to go to the bathroom.

Niccolo and Eren are fist bumping at your side and Eren’s turns to you, irritatingly positioned with his hands on his hips, as he smiles at you.

“Told you so.” Eren states.

“What the hell did that prove?”

“It’s simple. I asked Falco if he wanted to play a game of Truth or Dare. Then, I asked him to kiss his favorite person on the cast on the cheek after the scene was over. Told him to run right up to you and do it since I knew for a fact you’re his favorite.”

“Eren, you little-”

“Falco is most definitely the Hange or the Jean of the relationship. Would even go as far to argue that he might even be the boldest.” Eren states.

You groan, the two of you walking past Gabi and Falco near the snack table, a sizable distance away from each other and nearly sweating in the presence of each other. You and Eren shoot them a thumbs up, and Eren continues to gloat all the way back to the house.

At the end of the workday, Eren’s gathered everyone in the main room in a big crowd, doing nothing to help your nerves, as you give them all a smile and loop the guitar strap over your shoulder and sit on the bench.

“Okay. Repeat the request, Y/N.” Eren guides, the group of them all giving you warm smiles.

Mikasa and Sasha blow you a kiss, Porco and Connie with overenthusiastic thumbs up, and Eren’s smile pushing you on.

“Right. The request was ‘write a song about standing up a wedding’ and it was from Connie.” you state.

You swallow hard as you shut the book and place it under the bench and start strumming on the guitar to warm up.

“Be nice to me guys. I called this one Speak Now.”

I am not the kind of girl Who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion But you are not the kind of boy Who should be marrying the wrong girl

There’s a resounding sound of cheers, Connie and Mikasa clapping along with the sound as everyone else follows suit. You can feel your head pounding, your voice slightly shaking as you continue on and the guitar strings uncomfortably burning your fingers.

I sneak in and see your friends And her snotty little family all dressed in pastel And she is yelling at a bridesmaid Somewhere back inside a room Wearing a gown shaped like a pastry

Mikasa scoffs.

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

Everyone laughs, including you, as you shake your head and blow her a kiss before continuing. She makes the little gesture at you - like she’s catching the kiss in the air and tucking it into her pocket. You can feel Jean rolling his eyes at your side.

Don't say yes, run away now I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door Don't wait, or say a single vow You need to hear me out And they said, "Speak now"

The rest of the song goes relatively smoothly, the excitement from the group of them making your heart soar, that block in your throat dissolve.

Sasha’s trapped Niccolo in her arms and has been aggressively swinging him around for the past minute, Porco and Gabi locking their fingers together to do a little swing dance, and Hange, Armin, and Eren bobbing their heads in unison at the side.

The group of them all give you a deafening sound of applause when you finish, aggressive hugs and kisses being placed on your cheeks as they all applaud you - claiming your brilliance - as you feel your cheeks burn with excitement.

Eren’s the last one to approach you, an almost too satisfied with himself smile on his face for the second time today, as you give him your most peachy smile.

“Like it?” you ask.

“Loved it. You’ve still got it.” Eren states.

“You know it.”

“Can I give you one note?” Eren asks.

“Please.”

“The last verse. You have to change it.”

“What? Why?” you ask.

“It’s a good repeat. But I’m more curious…did the guy from the song leave the altar for her?”

You nod, giving him a smile, as you reach for the book, and gesture for him to sit next to you on the bench. You quickly jumble the lyrics onto the page, nearly misspelling half of the words, before you hand it to him for inspection.

And you'll say, "Let's run away now" I'll meet you when I'm out of my tux at the back door Baby, I didn't say my vows So glad you were around When they said, "Speak now"

"Always a sucker for a happy ending. It's perfect." Eren states.

He gives you a glimmering smile, making your heart skip a beat as his hand brushes against yours. Eren pulls out the little slip from earlier today, taping it right above the lyrics.

He gives you a last pinch of the cheek before pushing off the bench, leaving your entire body burning at his praise.

“That’s my girl. I didn’t doubt you for even a second.”

You pause.

"Eren?"

He turns back, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah?"

"Ask me who my favorite person on set is."

"What?"

"Ask me."

"Why would I-"

"Can you just do it?"

Eren turns back, hands at his side.

"Who's your favorite person on set?" Eren asks.

You walk up to his side, standing on your tip toes to press a kiss into the softness of his cheek. You hope that he understands - that you're overwhelmingly thankful for him. For the documentary, the days in Seattle, and the lifeline he always throws you. That you'll always be indebted to him.

"It's you." you whisper.

Eren's cheeks are pink.

"Is that right?" Eren asks, the tone in his voice teasing.

"Don't push your luck." you state.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Eren responds, as he gives you one last cheek pinch before leaving you alone with the piano.

Singing the song, strumming the guitar - it's almost like stretching an old muscle, flexing out the soreness. You're so excited that you reach for the cup on top of the piano to start writing the next one right away. But when your read the slip, you feel your mouth go dry.

you love someone with your entire being, and all they do is tolerate it

And at the bottom, a name scribbled in messy handwriting

Jean.

next part linked here

an: OK GUYS. WE'RE IN THE ENDGAME NOW!!! sorry its kind of boring but we die like men

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pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

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seeingivy · 22 days

Text

the moms

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

“so was it good?”

you shove sammy in the side.

“i don’t have sex and tell, samantha.” you respond, exaggerating every last syllable.

sammy sticks her tongue out to you in response, before handing you the fork. she was the messiest eater you knew, possibly even worse than yuuji, and she had all but demolished the layers of the triple chocolate cake that the two of you were sharing.

“would it kill you to eat this like a normal person?”

“dude, just tell me. this is the fun part about having sex!”

“what? gossiping about it after?” you ask.

“obviously.”

you roll your eyes, before crossing your arms over your chest.

“well, why don’t you gossip first? you’ve had more sex than i have.”

“okay, fine. the first time i had sex it was after prom at some random house party. your turn!”

you give her a glare, which she responds to with a glimmering smile, before gesturing for you to take your turn. that wasn’t the answer you were hoping for when you asked that.

“well, i made dinner before he came. and he was like…doing the whole teasing thing because he always makes us dinner and not the other way around.”

“well, i’m shocked you didn’t chop your own hand off during the process.”

“shut up. anyways, i like initiated it by just giving him the condom.”

sammy nearly chokes on her bite of the cake.

“huh?”

“i just like put it on the table. then he was like going on about how he should be buying the condoms and not me and all that. and even after, he was going off about birth control and plan b and he can buy this one or that one for me and –”

“as he should. i’d come skin him alive if he didn’t.”

“yeah but, i just hate when he offers up him money to me sometimes. he won’t let me pay rent, he like so casually offered to pay for grad school if i have to apply again and -”

“you won’t have to apply again.”

you shoot her a warning glance, before continuing.

“i just feel bad. it reminds me a lot of how much mom probably has to pay them back and hasn’t yet. i’ll feel like i’m doing the same thing to him even though he said it doesn’t really matter because i’ll make more money than him down the line and pay him back.”

sammy pauses.

“i get what you mean. and it’s not his fault, but maybe he just doesn’t get that…that it’s such a big thing he’s giving away. and you are his girlfriend and you do mean the world to him, but it’s not…”

“it’s just too much money. i don’t have something liek that to really offer him. i know it’s an investment in me and that he believes in me and that…that i could eventually pay him back, but i just can’t do that i…i just –”

“well you won’t have to, because you’re going to get in. and if you don’t get in, i will help you apply again. i have a job and you’re my sister.”

you glare at her.

“i’m serious, y/n. you’re my responsibility and…and you shouldn’t feel bad taking my money to do it. it’s only because i know how strapped you are for money. i know that you’ll really mean to pay it back.”

“i will pay it all back, though. like the first second i can, i’m going to –”

sammy leans forward, placing both of her hands on your shoulder and squeezing hard. it’s an almost silly smile that she gives you – and it’s almost like you can see seven year old sammy coming up to the surface.

“relax. i know you will. and i’ll be waiting for it.”

you swallow hard.

“okay fine. fine, fine. you can help me if it gets to that.”

“okay enough boring talk. was it hot? did you actually orgasm?” sammy asks.

you curl your nose up in disgust.

“nice segway.” you deadpan.

“cmon. he’s hot! i know it was good.”

you sigh.

“yes, it was hot. and yes, i did orgasm. twice.”

sammy always been one for the theatrics. and she’s never one to disappoint – because she’s dramatically clutching her chest and making such shocked faces that it makes you laugh.

“not one but TWO?”

you can’t help but smile as she continues her spiel of dramatics and that silent bit of pride – that sukuna was a caring enough partner to actually care about you rather than just himself – simmers up.

“who was the dom? is he into foreplay? oh…oh did he like the outfit? i bet he probably lost his mind.”

“him, obviously. but he said that i’m a brat. and yeah he is into it, but he’s kind of always been like that. and he accidentally ripped it because he got too excited but he offered to get me another one and then added that i need lingerie in every existing color on the color spectrum so…”

“what a dick! i paid for that. and you looked great in it.”

you reach forward, just close enough where you can wrap your arms around her neck. you can hear her struggling a little, an irritated string of noises coming out of her mouth before you let go.

“what’s your problem?”

“i just felt really appreciative of you for a second there.”

sammy gives you a disgusted look, before cupping the bottom of your chin in her hand.

“you’re gross, y/n.”

“you love it!”

sammy gives you one last glare, before sliding a little pink box over to the side. you shoot her a confused look, before opening it and fighting the urge to laugh.

it’s a little frosted cupcake, with the word virgin crossed out on it.

“you’re horrible.”

“it’s funny!”

“what’s in the box?” sukuna asks.

sukuna watches as your eyes widen, before you slam the little pink box shut and slide it behind your back.

you feel your heart sink your chest as sukuna stalks closer, giving you a wide grin, before he stretches his arms – which are irritatingly long – behind you and reaches for it. and before you can even try to snatch it back, he’s turned his back to you as he opens it.

“who gave you this? or is this just something you bought yourself?”

“why the hell would i buy that for myself?”

sukuna laughs as he hands you the box back, which you tuck closer to your chest before you glare at him.

“it’s okay to celebrate big milestones in our relationship. i get it, sweetheart.” he responds.

“i did not buy myself a cupcake with the word virgin crossed out on it. sammy gave it to me. she thinks she’s hilarious.”

sukuna shrugs.

“you’ve been hanging out with sammy a lot.”

you smile.

“dunno. she always invites me to come get coffee with her. the other day i asked her to come study with me and it was really nice.”

“and you talk about how you’re not a virgin over a matcha while you hang out.”

you grin.

“it was actually a slice of cake.”

sukuna dismissively shakes his head, before leaning his head over your shoulder and eyeing the cupcake.

“what flavor?”

“chocolate. you’re not going to like it.”

he’s leaning over your shoulder, sticking his finger straight into the frosting before licking it off his finger. you watch as he curls his face in disgust as he holds his finger out to you.

“too sweet. want it?”

you swipe the rest of the frosting off of his finger as you tuck the box back into the fridge and turn around to sukuna smirking at you. you roll your eyes as you shove him, knowing that this was going to be yet another one of his dirty jokes – that never seemed to cease.

it’s at that point that you realize that he entirely did it on purpose. and that he had the maturity of a seventeen year old boy at times.

“you’re immature. i just licked your finger.” you state.

“you just licked my finger? like you just licked my –”

you flip him off, earning you a laugh from him, before he wraps his arms around your waist, this time pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. it’s not long before he starts leaving wet kisses on your neck, before you can feel your entire body start to thrum under his touch.

“c'mon. you’re so tense. let me fix it.” he whispers.

“i need to iron our clothes. and i’m just worried about later, with the moms, that’s all.”

his breath tickles as he leans lower, now sucking into the soft spots of your neck, as you whine – his voice rasping against your skin. you try to shake him off, already sporting three marks that you’d need to cover up for tonight, but he persists.

“who cares?” he murmurs.

you pout.

“i care! she’s your mom! she’s my mom! and sammy said they invited yuuji, who is probably going to be pissed that i was going there without him in the first place. and your dad is going to be there which is –”

sukuna spins you around, tucking his hand under your chin.

“i don’t give a fuck what my dad thinks. neither should you.”

“i don’t. but, he…”

“what?”

“he says stuff. about yuuji when we go. he could say it about us too, about you.”

“i don’t care.”

“well, i do. who gives him the right?”

it was a simmering irritation that had been taking residence in your head for the past few days. you’d always thought it was a little crass – sukuna’s comments about how his mom was spineless at times, how he couldn’t care less if his father lived or died.

he’d always found your insistence to see your parents at least every two weeks ridiculous, that you and yuuji would go out of your way to trek out there to see them when the entire experience was wholly unpleasant anyways.

but it was all you thought about now – and maybe even a little haunting that now you found his reasoning sound. that as much as you loved his mom, she really was spineless for making him assume so much responsibility when it should have been her. and his dad – that you would actually prefer it if he did die, just to save the two of them from getting hurt.

sukuna lifts his hands and squishes your cheeks, so close together that you can’t get a word out. you glare at him in response – irritated that he always seems to somehow shut you up before you can even broach the topic.

but you drop it, like you almost always do, because all he does is brightly smile at you in response, muttering under his breath about how squishy your cheeks are. and it feels wrong – to curb someone who was so happy and bring up such a sore topic…especially when you two would probably return to the apartment downtrodden in a few hours and have to talk about it anyways.

“sukuna.”

he reaches up, rubbing his thumb into your forehead – a gesture he always did when he was trying to get you to stop frowning.

“eh? what happened to calling me ryomen?”

“well, you’re being annoying.”

“quit making that frowny face.”

“i’m just saying that i want dinner to go well. i don’t want it to go bad because then the moms are going to be upset and yuuji could be too which will be irritating for you and i just –”

sukuna gives you one lingering kiss before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours.

“love that you worry about me. but i’ll be fine. just drop it, okay?” he whispers.

you frown.

“okay. but the first sign of trouble we’re leaving. three squeezes we fight and leave, two squeezes for shut up and stay.”

sukuna smiles.

“deal, pretty girl.”

you stand on the cobblestone walkway for five minutes. mainly because every time sukuna makes an effort to drag you into the house, you pull back on his hand and linger there for a few more seconds, refusing to walk in.

“we’re already late. one of them is probably having an aneurysm right now.” sukuna states.

“there’s no way they aren’t watching this all go down from the window. and two more minutes. i’m just trying to compose myself.”

“well, unfortunately, we’re not in the fucking orchestra, baby. let’s just get it over with.”

you roll your eyes at him and he tries again – pulling your arm forward – before you pull back. you appreciate that he refuses to walk in without you, but that simmering pool of disgust in your stomach, mainly for sukuna’s dad, was getting even worse now that you were here. and if you went now, you wouldn’t keep the promise you two had made.

to avoid fights, at all costs.

“so what are we doing out here?”

you both turn your heads to find yuuji at your sides, both immediately dropping your hands from one another’s, as you look at him. it fills an ache in your chest – that you used to do this with him and he barely even wanted to see you these days – as you give him a halfhearted smile.

“ah. just nervous to go in, that’s all.” you respond.

“oh, the moms will be dying to hear all the details. what’s there to be scared of?”

“exactly that. that they’re going to ask for details.”

yuuji leans his head back, laughing like a little kid, before shaking his head and pressing his hands to your shoulders. it fills you with the slightest amount of ease – warm hands on your shoulders, his musky cologne filling your nose – as you walk closer to the door.

sukuna knocks on the door for the three of you. and they both answer the door in a split second, confirming your suspicions that they really were watching everything go down from the window.

it’s suffocating – the group hug that the two of them trap you all in. you can hear both yuuji and sukuna groaning in your ears, your own windpipe constricted from your vantage point in the middle, as you hear a string of sweet nothings coming out of their mouths.

“our little love birds are here!”

when they let go, freeing the three of you from their deathly grasp, they’re both beaming at you and sukuna so lovingly that it almost freaks you out. you shoot a look to yuuji at your side, whose making his best efforts not to laugh, as he walks past the four of you into the kitchen.

“okay, okay, let’s see it then!” your mom states.

“see what?” sukuna asks.

“do something sweet. give her a kiss, sukuna!” mrs. itadori adds.

“i will most definitely not be doing that.” sukuna responds, pressing a halfhearted kiss to his mom’s cheek before linking his arm in with yours and dragging you past the two of them.

they both follow, like overzealous dogs, as you shoot them polite smiles. but the second you catch sight of sammy in the kitchen, with a batch of cupcakes, you wrestle out of sukuna’s grasp to run up to her.

sammy gives you a smile in recognition when she realizes it’s your pounding steps that she’s hearing and opens her arms up for you. it’s a warm hug – a sickeningly sweet smell of sugar emanating from her – as she whispers into your ear, the two of you snickering.

“did he like my cupcake?”

“i hope you die, bitch.”

“who said that?” your mom asks.

“sammy.” you respond.

“y/n.” sammy responds, at the exact same time.

you both snicker as you lean against the counter with her, as sukuna walks over with his arms crossed against his chest.

“samantha.” he states.

“ryomen sukuna.” she responds.

“y/n!” you add.

the two of them look over at you, irritated looks on their faces.

“everyone was saying each other’s names really dramatically. i wanted to join in.” you add.

“i’m going to have a talk with you after dinner, ryomen.”

“fine, samantha. i look forward to it.”

despite the rather dramatic and overzealous tones they’re both using, their smiles deceive them entirely. sammy gives him a light shove, that he fully returns, before he walks off into the kitchen.

and not even two minutes later, you can’t help but abandon helping the sammy with the dishes and instead poke your head out to the table – where sukuna’s now sitting next to yuuji and two seats away from his dad.

you can tell that the sukuna and yuuji are whispering under their breaths, but entirely unable to discern if it’s pleasant or if they’re two seconds away from ripping each other’s heads off.

sammy slaps you on the backside of the head.

“you’re even worse than him. why are you staring at him? you literally live together.”

“we don’t live together. and how do you even know that?”

“you told me.”

“i totally didn’t, but…they’ve been fighting since we started dating. i’m scared one of them is going to smack the other at this point.”

sammy rolls her eyes.

“don’t tell me yuuji has some weird complex about you dating his brother. there’s no way he didn’t know sukuna has liked you this entire time.”

“what are you girls whispering about?” your mom asks.

you both shoot up, abandoning the door, as you start stacking the plates, shooting the two of them a peachy smile.

“nothing, mommy. just girl stuff.” you mutter.

“y/n was staring at sukuna. i was telling her that she has all the time in the world to do that and that she should help me instead.”

you shoot sammy a glare, as she starts laughing behind her hand, before sukuna’s mom walks up to you, cupping both of your cheeks in her hands. you’re caught off guard by the blatant affection – because it’s not that she hasn’t been fond of you before, but it holds too much of a different weight now.

“oh sweet girl. i’m so happy for you two, i’ve always known he’s had such a special spot for you.”

you smile as she reaches forward and presses a wet kiss to your cheek, before wrapping you in one of the tightest hugs to man. you can feel the blood rushing to your head, nervousness returning in full flesh as she lets you go and smiles.

“so everyone tells me! at this point, it feels like everyone knew but me.” you add.

“do you remember when he walked to a grocery store to get you a princess bandaid because you thought the tan ones were boring? because i personally remember that and thought –”

“sammy, quit it. don’t tease your sister.” your mom scolds.

sammy bites down on her cheeks at the comment, at being berated by your mom, as you frown. you look at her over your shoulder, shaking your head in dismissal, as you grab the last of the dishes and drag them out to the table.

it was a weird test – the dinner tonight. between you and sammy, since you had just rekindled whatever relationship it was you had, and you and yuuji, since he couldn’t seem to be bothered to really talk to you these days. and between your god given patience and sukuna’s dad, obviously.

when you walk into the room, sukuna shuffles a seat over, offering you the spot in between him and yuuji, and you shoot him a grateful smile. but you immediately regret sliding into it, realizing that he’s now stuck right next to his dad and across from his mom at the other side.

you reach for sukuna’s hand under the table and he laces his fingers in with yours. when he looks up at you, he frowns and presses his fingers to your cheek.

“you have a lipstick mark.” sukuna states, rubbing into the softness of your cheek.

“oh. your mom kissed me.”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“irritating. that’s my thing.”

sukuna drops his hand as your mom walks in with the last of the plates, everyone shuffling into their seats and giving each other peachy smiles. it’s almost awkward at first, because no one seems to really talk with anyone else. it’s really only the moms interjecting every one in a while, but it’s almost always awkward comments.

“sammy. you should have brought your boyfriend.” your mom states.

you shoot your head up.

“he’s busy.” she responds.

“he’s always busy. we’d love to meet the guy you spend so much time with. he could even be friends with sukuna!”

“well, sukuna is annoying, so i doubt it. but sure, sure. next time.” sammy responds, reaching for her glass and downing half of the water in it.

you shoot her a smile, which she doesn’t really return, as you bite down into the side of your cheek.

the dinner goes well, considering things. it’s obviously very awkward – and they ask way too many overbearing questions that sukuna refuses to answer due to the intrusion. and that you can’t stomach answering either, because yuuji’s almost too attentive eyes at your side guilt you into not confessing.

“have you guys said i love you yet?” mrs. itadori asks.

“mom.” sukuna groans.

you two shoot each other a look.

“if you must know, we have. now talk about something else, literally anything else.” sukuna responds, making such an aggressive cut into his chicken that it loudly clinks against the ceramic of the plate.

it’s enough to satiate the moms and throw them into their own frenzy of excitement.

“i’m going to get some water.” yuuji states.

“i’ll come with!” you respond, shooting him a smile as you both awkwardly pull out of the chairs.

it’s a quiet walk to the kitchen, as yuuji rummages through the cabinets and produces a glass for the two of you. but luckily enough for you, he’s the one who fills the silence first.

“i miss you.” he offers.

you feel your chest clench.

“really? i really miss you too.”

“got no time for me anymore now that you’ve got a boyfriend?” he jokes.

“that’s rich coming from you.” you joke back.

except when you look up, he’s looking at you with no semblance of a smile on his face, instead an awkward mix between confusion and irritation.

“what do you mean by that?”

“oh! i was just kidding!”

“were you?”

“it’s just because you’re always with megumi. and he always used to come to our hangouts, that’s all.”

“do you have a problem with that?”

“no. but –”

“because if you did, you should have just said. i thought we were best friends who told each other everything. including when the other was being a bad friend.” yuuji states.

“i know. i just felt bad and i didn’t really mind him joining.”

yuuji sighs, before turning to your side and facing you properly this time. it’s a simmering pool of disgust in your stomach – mainly for yourself – that yuuji had tried to build a bridge and you’d immediately burned it down by making a joke that wasn’t appropriate.

“look. i don’t like fighting with you. and i really miss you, you…you can even ask megumi. talk about it all the time. we have a lot to talk about, obviously, but –”

you sigh, reaching forward and opening your arms for him. it’s a bright smile that he gives you – characteristically warm, with the soft wrinkles by his eyes.

“i miss you too.”

“i’ll uh…promise to be civil then. if sukuna’s the hill you’re willing to die on, then…then i’ll try to get over it.”

you smile.

“really?”

“are you really that shocked? i’d do anything for you.”

“you gave me a pause there.” you add.

yuuji frowns, before reaching forward, and affectionately ruffling the side of your hair.

“i love you, y/n. i’m sorry if i didn’t make it seem that way, i just –”

“i know you love me. i just thought you trusted me more to know i wouldn’t make stupid decisions anymore.”

yuuji frowns.

“i don’t think you’re stupid. it was him i didn’t trust.”

“well, how about you just trust my judgment about him?”

“i just want you to be with someone who would treat you really well.”

“and he does treat me really well. i wouldn’t be with him if he didn’t.”

you reach forward, linking one of your hands in with yuuji’s, and squeeze hard.

“i appreciate the concern. but i’ll tap out if it’s too much for me.” you affirm.

yuuji frowns, before halfheartedly shaking his head.

“i know. just…you’re still my best friend first. you can still come to me if he does something to you…i…i don’t give a shit that he’s my brother.”

“obviously. you’re my day one.” you respond.

yuuji gives you a glimmering smile, which you take as a silent win, as you both walk back into the main room. and when you sit back down, sammy shoots you a wide eyed look, before letting her eyes flicker over to sukuna.

you look over at him at your side, only to find him clenching not only his jaw but his fists under the table. you reach for his leg under the table, squeezing once, which he immediately responds to by taking hold of your hand instead.

“you’re finally back. don’t you think it’s rude to leave for minutes at a time, y/n, yuuji?”

you bite down on your lip, feeling the acidic feeling crawl up your throat, as you turn your head to where sukuna’s dad is now staring you down. you shoot sukuna a warning glance, before you swallow the feeling down.

“i’m sorry. i wasn’t feeling well.” you respond.

you’re able to cue in that in the few seconds that you and yuuji had stepped into the kitchen, his dad had downed a decent amount of the wine bottle that had been intended for you and sukuna to share.

and the awkward silence hangs in the air, everyone lowering their heads to focus on pushing their food around on their plate. no one makes an effort to talk again and sukuna’s squeezing your hand so hard that you’re almost positive that he’s cutting your circulation off.

“what were you and yuuji talking about?” he asks.

“nothing. we were just getting water, because she wasn’t feeling well.” yuuji responds.

“right. well, you’re sure there’s nothing going on right? because you’ve always been closer than most.”

sukuna watches as you and yuuji pinch your eyes shut, the irritation festering in both of your expressions. sukuna remembers that you had mentioned it in passing – that his dad always seemed to suggest that there was something going on between you and yuuji – to avoid talking about megumi.

“she’s my girlfriend.” sukuna responds.

“well, like i was saying, you should rethink that.” his dad adds.

yuuji drops his fork.

“what?”

“yuuji, don’t.” sammy whispers.

“well, i was just saying. if it were me, i would feel strange if my wife was so close with another man. they’ve had hundreds of sleep overs…and you’re really telling me that two teenagers were sleeping in the same bed without doing anything?”

you feel your eye twitch.

“and then again, you do have to question her intentions. he makes more money than her, i’m now being told that she lives with him, and…and it begs the question. what does she really bring to the table? at best, student loans?”

sukuna immediately shoots his head to the left, only to find you looking down at your plate, the strands of your hair obscuring your face. he shakes your hand under the table, only to get two squeezes back.

no fighting.

he leans back in his chair, stomach rolling over, only to find yuuji staring bullets into his skin. he gives him a confused look, which only seems to agitate yuuji more.

“do something.” yuuji whispers.

“what the hell are you on about? just be quiet.” sukuna responds.

yuuji slams his utensils down on the plate, before pushing out of his chair.

“sukuna. help me with the dessert in the kitchen.” yuuji responds, tone scathing.

you let the two of them shuffle away into the kitchen and restrain yourself from joining them for a full two minutes. but the first shred of a raised voice that you hear is enough to make you push out of your chair and excuse yourself, only to find the two of them glaring at each other.

“guys…you have to be kidding me.” you state.

“y/n. you said you would tap out. i think now’s the time.” yuuji states.

sukuna tilts his head to the side.

“you said what?” sukuna asks.

“yuuji. that is in no way what i meant. and why the hell would i tap out?”

“he’s a dick! sukuna’s letting him talk to you like that and he doesn’t even care.”

sukuna’s sneering at him.

“like i said, dipshit, she asked me specifically not to. i actually care enough to listen unlike you.” sukuna responds.

yuuji’s glaring back.

“i would never, in good faith, let anyone talk about her like that. maybe that’s the difference between me and you.”

“you didn’t say shit when we were sitting there.” sukuna states.

“because you’re supposed to do that. she’s your girlfriend. you should adore her so much that it pisses you off that someone would even raise their voice at her.”

“and i do. but i love her enough to respect what she wants – which is not fucking fighting in front of our parents, dumbass.”

yuuji gets a little too close to sukuna and his raised hands make the panic rise up in your chest. you feel a set of footsteps moving before sammy’s standing right at your side, the two of you watching as they continue to argue.

you refuse to intervene. sukuna was mature enough to deal with it.

“do something.” sammy whispers.

“what the hell am i supposed to do?” you whisper back.

“they’re like your little lap dogs. make one stop and the other will follow. mrs. itadori’s like two minutes away from crying.”

you groan, as sammy gives you a supportive thumbs up, and you inch closer to them.

it’s the last time you decide to take sammy’s advice.

because the exact second that you decide to walk closer to them is also when yuuji decides that he’s going to punch sukuna first. except when he pulls his hand back to aim, he backs his fist into your face instead of sukuna’s.

it’s a burning warmth that’s blooming under your skin, as you clutch your hands to your forehead and block out the light before dropping to your knees. you instinctively try to block the light out as the pulsating rushes under the softness of your eye, the pain sharp.

you feel your head raise off of the cold tile quickly, sammy’s hands on your cheeks.

“shit. shit, y/n i’m sorry i didn’t think he’d punch you.” sammy states.

“sammy, you…you’re such a fucking idiot.” you murmur, in half coherency.

the first thing that you see in your peripheral vision is sammy and yuuji looking down at you, a warm fear drowning in both of their eyes but with the edges of your vision blurred. you can tell that there’s a slight sheen in yuuji’s eyes, his hands squeezing at your biceps and his voice entirely frantic.

“y/n. oh my fucking god, i’m so sorry. i didn’t even fucking see you there. i would never fucking hit you.”

“hey. hey, hey. focus on me.” sammy beckons.

you avert your gaze to her, now focused on how her fingers seem to be massaging into the back of your head.

“repeat your name for me.” sammy asks.

“what? you know my name sammy.”

“you know where you are?” she asks.

you can tell what she’s doing.

“sam, i’m fine. quit doing one of your nursing school exams on me.”

“follow my finger with your eyes. you hit your head, dumbass.”

the light is entirely obscured this time, quieting the sharpness of the fluorescent bulb above, when you finally find sukuna in your line of vision, nursing a bag of peas in his hands. he doesn’t say anything, eyes drowning in such guilt that it makes your stomach turn.

“hey, i’m fine.” you offer.

“sit up for me then doll.” he responds.

you follow his command, both sammy and yuuji stabilizing you at your side as he brushes his fingers over your eye. you flinch at the sensation, watching as his eyes flicker in hurt, before he presses the peas into the softness of your eyes. he continues to hold it there, before turning to sammy.

“is she okay, sam?”

“she didn’t answer all my questions, but i think she was just sassing me. she’s alert but just be on the watch if she gets more confused as she gets home. call me if it gets worse.” sammy offers.

“anything else i can do besides the ice?” sukuna asks, voice quiet.

“she’s going to be fine. s’just a bruise. give her an advil for a headache.” sammy responds, reaching forward to ruffle your hair before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

yuuji takes one of your hands in his, squeezing his hand in yours.

“y/n, really. i’m so sorry, you have to know that i didn’t mean it.”

you frown.

“i know, yuu. no big deal, let’s just…talk about it later, okay? i know it was an accident and…”

you’re cut off by the feeling of sukuna taking your other hand and squeezing three times. you look over at him, eyes wide.

“you might not need to tap out yet but i fucking do. can we leave?” he whispers.

“of course we can. i don’t want to –”

“i’m getting your bag. stay with sammy.” he responds, gesturing for her to take his place in holding the peas against your face as he stalks out of the room.

sukuna returns just as fast as he left, bag in his left hand and his right wrapped around your waist as he marches the two of you to the porch. in the few seconds he uses to pull up to the car at the front, you turn to sammy at your side.

“stay with yuuji. tell him that it’s okay and that he should stay with megumi tonight. i don’t want him to be all upset.”

“got it. i’ll come by tomorrow, okay?”

you give her a nod, as she walks you to the passenger side door, where sukuna’s quick to open the door and tuck you into the warmth of the car.

it’s a quiet ride home.

he’s uncharacteristically inexpressive the second you get back to the apartment. you can tell that it’s not nonchalance – only because he seems to be tending to you so dutifully, but quietly. almost like he can’t muster up something to say. and you can’t think of the right thing either.

he’s quick to lead you to the bedroom, helping you into your pajamas and carefully pulling the shirt over your injured eye. and even after that, delicately wiping the makeup off of your face, before pressing a real icepack into your eye.

it’s satisfying to him that you seem to relax under the cooling sensation of the icepack, fluttiern gyur eyes shut like you’re relieved.

“thanks ryo. i appreciate you taking care of me.” you mumble.

he lifts his hands up to your neck, using the tips of his fingers to angle your face up so that he can look at you properly in the light. you can see the contempt in his face at the pink swelling now, at how he swallows so hard you can see his adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“i’m going to kill him.” sukuna whipsers.

“i don’t care what your dad thinks. i don’t care if he thinks i have nothing to offer you –”

“not him…i’m talking about fucking yuuij. he fucking punched you, y/n.”

you cringe.

“it was an accident.” you respond.

“i know that. but that’s just the thing. he’s so fucking immature for even attempting to punch me at a family dinner. and as always, he has no fucking awareness of his surroundings or of you, because he just gave you a black eye.”

you can tell that he’s still simmering – muscles in his neck tense – as you try to diffuse the stiffness and tension.

“you care so much about little old me?” you joke, giving him a peachy smile.

he only glares in response.

“he punched you in your pretty face. stop fucking joking about it. i know how much that shit hurts first hand, y/n, and it's in no way funny to me."

you frown, before standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. he’s quick to return the hug, holding most of your weight around your waist as you sag into him.

his voice is quiet when it comes out.

"i hate seeing you in pain." he mumbles.

it’s only then that you’re really able to recollect everything – the extremely high energy that the moms seemed to be dishing out, his dad’s clear, abundantly clear disapproval of you, and the fact that you and yuuji seemed to only get farther apart the closer you try to be to him. a

nd that the pinching headache that was starting to settle into the front of your forehead was something sukuna was all to familiar with, at age seven. that maybe the entire ordeal was reminding him of the worst, but that you were at the center of it.

and horribly, it’s a quick thought that passes your mind. that what you and yuujji have going on in between you might be irreparable. that you have to pick, and that you can't fix anything that happened to sukuna when he was little.

you don’t say much at first, only focused on pressing yourself into his skin and leaning against his shoulder. the thought of never recuperating your relationship with yuuji has the tiredness seeping into your bones and wearing you down completely.

his breaths seem to slow down, muscles relaxing as he only holds you closer, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

“quit being mad.” you murmur.

“easier said than done, princess.” he responds.

“was an accident. i know why it bothers you but...”

sukuna's quiet, his voice like gravel.

"i don't want to talk about that."

you pull back, immediately regretting mentioning it.

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to push, i just meant-"

"i know. i just can't stomach reliving that when i can see the bruise on your face. i can't even fucking look at you, you...."

his voice wavers and you press your hand into his cheek, dismissing it.

"whenever you're ready. if you want to."

you frown. sukuna’s quick to pull back and wrap one his hands around your cheek.

“stop talking about me. you're the one who's hurt, you...you have to let me fix it.” he whispers.

you can tell that he's trying to change the subject. and that really, some part of him only feels comfortable when he's taking care of someone else. you'll grant it to him for today.

“i’m just tired and that was just a lot with yuuji and i just…”

you deflate, feeling warm tears rise up in your eyes. that he always wants to take care of you, even when he doesn't feel his best. you can watch as sukuna’s face literally droops, before lifting your face up again.

that really, he cared about you so earnestly, and yuuji was refusing to see it.

“what is it?”

“what if yuuji and i are never the same again? what if…what if we just keep getting worse?”

sukuna frowns.

“i don’t like that he makes you pick, y/n. but i wouldn’t –”

“no. no fuck off for a second, god.”

sukuna’s thrown off by the cursing, as he takes the cue to be quiet and talk.

“i’d pick you. he’s being a dick and i-i’d always pick you. you’re all the cheesy stuff for me. we’re two stars and two flowers and you…you’re the love of my life. i’d pick you. i just hate that he won’t let me have this thing and how we don’t get to have a big…a big cheesy family who is happy for us besides sammy, who i really love right now.”

sukuna tucks the stray hair behind your ears, before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“it’s not fair! we deserve people who just want to be happy for us, you deserve a good dad who isn’t a dick, i deserve one who is still here, and i’ve always wanted a big wedding and future with a warm family that…that bakes cookies for each other and shit and it just gets more and more obvious that we’ll never get to have that and it makes me angry.”

sukuna smiles, before pressing his hands to the sides of your waist and lifting you up on to the counter. he takes residence in the spot between your legs, looking up at you with the softest of smiles.

“i wanted to have a nice dinner where yuuji realized you made me really happy and sammy could admit that she’s bi or a lesbian or experimenting or whatever and i wanted to feel like people really loved me and were finally happy for me after everything that happened.” you add.

you look down to find sukuna with the smallest whisper of a smile on his face and you can’t help but glare at him.

“what are you smiling about freak?” you mutter.

“you want a big cheesy family with me.”

you roll your eyes.

“i got hit in the head. let me live.”

sukuna shakes his head.

“no take backs, angel.”

he presses a kiss into the bare skin of your shoulder, before mumbling quietly.

“no corny family for us, right now. but that doesn’t mean that we can’t make one for ourselves.”

“hm?”

“we can make our own big cheesy family. you’d be a really good soccer mom.”

you snort.

“you’d run a kindergarten soccer team like it was the military.” you respond.

“damn right i would. our kid has to be the best.”

you smile.

“we’ll be a proper family. you have to make school lunches that every food on the fucking food pyramid in them or whatever and corny notes about how much you love them. and i’ll teach them math and attempt to not make them cry when i help them. we’ll go to shitty concerts together and pretend like it was good and i will obviously fight a snotty nosed child if they ever bother our kids.”

you poke at his dimples.

“we’ll rotate on good cop bad cop. i’ll pretend like i’m their favorite when we both know it’ll be you. sammy will be a wine aunt and if yuuji can stop being a fucking bitch, which he will, he’d fucking spoil them rotten.” he adds.

“why are you saying all this?”

“we’ll make the family we want. s’no point in being upset about it when we’ll have it all. i'll make sure of it.”

you sigh, before pushing off of the counter and looking up at him. he leans down, pressing a featherlike kiss into the pulsating bruise near your eye, before locking his hands together around your neck.

“see the vision?” he asks.

“not really. i would hate being a soccer mom. yuuji doesn’t seem like he’s going to let up. and sammy doesn’t like wine, sukuna.”

sukuna smiles.

“we’ll get you there. i’ll keep convincing you till you’ll believe it, okay?”

“are you mad i can’t see it?”

“no. thought stuff like that was hopeless for me before i met you, so. and fighting with your best friend and hearing shit from people you want more from doesn’t make that easy. but i'll get you there.”

he reaches forward, tracing a little x over your chest. you give him a nod, before mimicking the same motion on his heart too.

next part linked here

an: sometimes i wonder if this fic is ever annoying. but then I ignore it and post the chapter anyways. anyways meow the next chapter im so excited for eek

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