Archive of Our Own ^beta

“It’s Suguru.”

Small puffs of cigarette smoke hung in the air, the endless expanse of black overhead dotted with stars almost too faint to see, the dim yellow street lamps and lights from the city polluting the night sky. 

“I know,” You awkwardly said, just to realize how weird it came out, wincing as you sheepishly shrugged, rambling without realizing you might just be making it worse. “I mean, sorry, shit. Um, I listen to your band.”

The Suguru Geto. 

Leaning against the brick wall of the back alley, lazily watching you with those dark half-lidded eyes, blinking slowly. 

“You do?” The corner of his mouth twitched up for a split second before his lips wrapped back around the cigarette slotted carefully between two sturdy fingers. It was one thing to watch him on stage, how quickly his calloused fingertips strummed over the chords, brows drawn together in concentration, and an entirely different one to be the one bearing the burden of that focused stare. 

“Yeah, I was here for the show,” You mumbled, fighting the blush creeping up your face. It had ended nearly an hour ago, but you'd gotten distracted chatting with a few other fans at the bar, swapping stories and shots until the last call came. You hadn't planned on this. You were only trying to call your boyfriend for a ride. 

Well, he wasn't actually your boyfriend. 

But he was a guy, and a friend, and probably the only person who'd be willing to even begrudgingly come get you. You just happened to sometimes slept together. 

“And?” His sharp jaw cocked to the side, a pretty glint in his eyes. 

“I'm just, uh, waiting on my friend to pick me up,” You explained, hoping he didn't think you were a creep waiting out here just for a chance to meet a member of the band. Even if they weren't that huge or even really famous yet, you saw how insane some of the fans could be, the comments that got left on every post they ever shared. 

He laughed. It felt cozy, how deep it was, a softness underscoring it when it floated over to you, his eyes crinkling when his eyes settled on yours. 

“The show,” He clarified, pulling the cigarette away after another short drag. “Did you like it?”

“Oh,” You glanced down at your feet, the heels digging into the gravel of the poorly-paved concrete. “Yeah.”

You didn't sound very convincing. 

But the night had been one of those where all the pieces fell just right, an exciting sort of electricity crackling in the air. Squeezing through the thick throng of the crowd to make it to the front, the infectious energy of the people singing along to every word around you. 

“Not sparing my feelings, huh?” He was smirking as he said it though, well-aware of just how embarrassed you were, how flustered he was making you. 

“Really, it was great,” You muttered, letting your hair fall in a curtain around your face when you glanced back down at the phone forgotten in your hand, typing out your tenth message to plead with Sukuna to stop being a dick and come pick you up before you found the nearest roof to jump off of. 

The asshole was leaving you on read.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you hadn't noticed Suguru stepping closer until his cologne enveloped you, the cigarette smoke mixing with his woody scent, a hint of citrus bleeding through. 

“No luck?” He murmured, his presence hanging heavy over your shoulder. 

You'd known he was tall. But it was more intimidating in person, how broadly his shoulders spanned, the plain black t-shirt he'd changed into clinging to his muscles, sleeves straining around his biceps. 

“Not really,” You breathlessly admitted, forcing a small exhale out just for it to be visible in the frigid air. The wind nipping at your bare arms, cutting through the sheer tights underneath your short dress, a few runs already ripped in them, a hole in the knees from where you tripped on the concrete stairs leaving the bar. Dressed for dancing rather than the brittle winter weather.

Suguru wasn't wearing a jacket either, but if the cold bothered him, he didn't show it. 

He caught your stare.

"Most people ask for an autograph," He neutrally commented, watching you watch the faint red glow from the tip of his cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. 

"Do you have a pen on you?" 

You almost giggled when he took the cigarette out of his mouth and pulled a marker from the depths of his pocket with his free hand, rolling it between his fingers as he brought it up to his lips, canines sinking into the plastic cap so he could use his teeth to pop it off. 

It was hard to keep a straight face when you plucked it from him, the way he blinked slowly and waited for what you'd do next. You took a tiny step forward, just enough to grab his forearm, fingers pressed against the veins on display across the smooth marble canvas. 

Signing your name in a few fluid scrawls before taking the cap from where its place still stuck in-between his teeth, shoving it back on and holding it out for him to take. 

“There,” You hummed. “You didn't even have to ask.”

He let out an appreciative chuckle, admiring your handiwork in the moonlight before slipping the marker back in his pocket and taking another short drag of his cigarette. 

“Do you smoke?” He questioned, plucking it back out of his mouth and offering it to you, your gaze flicking from the spot his lips had been to the heat in his eyes. 

“No,” You swallowed hard, despite how tempted you were to accept. 

Suguru's eyes stuck to you while you shivered, folding your arms tightly across your chest as if it'd help shield you from the cold.  

“Need a ride then?”

“From you?” 

“Yeah, from me,” His laugh was low, flicking his wrist to knock a few ashes from the tip of the cigarette.

“Sure,” You heard yourself say, feel the slow bob of your head nodding. 

He didn't have the same reputation as some of his bandmates. If even half the rumors about Satoru Gojo were true, you probably wouldn't have made it out of the alley before he turned you around and tore your panties off. Not that you'd be complaining. 

Suguru was never really seen with anyone - and despite the occasional tale from a fan claiming to have spent the night with him, there was hardly anything out there about him. But you were pretty sure that just meant he was the only one bothering to protect his image. 

You understood the appeal. 

The quiet guy. The mystery that every girl was convinced she'd be the one to unravel.

But men were men. Especially when they experienced the tiniest tastes of money or power or fame. 

“Great,” and then he smiled. At you. And you knew immediately that you'd still fuck him if he asked. “Give me five?”

“Okay,” The word just sort of fell out, and he was turning towards the back entrance, nudging the brick keeping the door cracked open out with one of his scuffed boots so he could slip back inside. 

You shoved down the lump in your throat, head swiveling around like maybe a camera crew was hiding somewhere in the shadows and this was all just some big joke at your expense. 

A heavy set of footsteps echoed on the pavement, your attention snapping to the open mouth of the alley where it met the street, your surprise turning to relief once you realized it just seemed to be some drunk idiot stumbling out. He noticed you a second after you spotted him, and anxiety coiled in your gut when his sloppy steps turned in your direction. 

You tried to shrink back, like you would suddenly gain the ability to just blend into the wall, but judging from the gross wolf whistle the prick sent your way, it wasn't working. 

“You on your own out here, cutie?” 

Ew. Gross.

You wanted to vomit. 

The catcalling itself didn't phase you. But the fact he was doing it while you were alone in a dark back alley? 

“I'm waiting on someone,” You called back out, hoping it'd be enough to deter him from being any more of a creep.

“Don't look like it,” He slurred, the words blending together as he stumbled closer. You automatically stepped back, your back scraping against the brick, the rough surface tearing at your skin.

What, did he think you were just out here for fun? 

The door swung open, Suguru's voice carrying through before he actually stepped out. 

“Yeah, yeah, Satoru, see you later,” His last word trailed off slowly, a set of keys jingling in his hand as he processed the scene in front of him from your obvious discomfort to the wasted dickhead clearly attempting to make a move on you. His dark eyes narrowed as he approached, every step steady until his hand found your hip, softly pulling you into his side. “This guy bothering you?”

“Sorry, man, didn't know she was taken,” He weakly apologized, already backing away before you had the chance to confirm. 

“Yeah, she is,” Suguru coolly replied, and even if you knew he was only saying it to get the guy to leave, it did a number on your already frazzled brain when it was paired with his protective hold on your hip.

He waited until the idiot was completely out of sight before sighing, rubbing his temple with his spare hand. 

“What a fucking-”

“I'm fine,” You interrupted, a tiny giggle slipped out at hearing him curse. “Seriously.”

“You sure?” He double-checked, showing absolutely no signs of moving his hand, peering down at you with almost-shrewd eyes. 

“Yeah,” You yawned, reaching up to cover our mouth with your hand. 

The muscles in his jaw relaxed, his grip on your hip softening as he nodded. You let him lead you out front, a little surprised to discover how easy it was to chat with him, making casual conversation as you walked down the block to the lot he'd parked in. How nice it was to hear him quietly laughing at some stupid joke you made while he unlocked the car, holding the door open for you to climb in.

If he was someone else, just a normal guy you happened to meet at the bar, you might've let yourself believe the moment meant something more than a prelude to inviting him into your bed. 

Buckling in, you glanced out at the empty parking spaces while he got in after you, pulling his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it before passing it over to you. 

“You want my number or just my address?” Your thumb hovered over his contacts, unable to bury the hint of hope shining in your eyes when you looked up at him. 

“Both.” 

He offered you a crooked smile as he turned the key in the ignition. You grinned to yourself, more than a little giddy when you saved your information on his phone, sending yourself a text and opening up his maps to type in your address. 

He was pulling out a pack of gum from the center console, unwrapping it with nimble fingers before popping one in his mouth. He held out a piece for you when you handed his phone back. 

“It doesn't bother me, by the way,” You shrugged as you pulled the foil off the gum. 

“Hm?” He was distracted by the phone, glancing over at the directions before setting it down in an empty cup holder. 

“Smoking,” You bobbed your shoulders back up again, tucking your hair behind your ear as you pretended to be interested in something outside the window instead.

“I'm trying to quit,” He chuckled, checking the rearview mirror before resting his hand on your seat while he put the car in reverse to back out of his spot. You liked the proximity of it, the funny sort of intimacy in such a normal act. 

Suguru didn't turn the radio on, but reached over to turn up the heat, the windshield fogging up at the temperature difference. What really surprised you was just how clean the interior was, no receipts scattered anywhere or dust clinging to the air vents. His knuckles wrapped around the leather of the steering wheel, glancing around the deserted streets before pulling out into the road. 

“You cold?” He glanced over at the small goosebumps still dotting your arms. 

“A little,” You shrugged, fiddling with your nails, the polish you'd just applied this afternoon already starting to chip off in tiny flakes. 

He kicked the heat up all the way, but his arm slowly reached over the center console, a massive hand sliding up your thigh, stopping just below the hem of your dress. Every movement was painfully deliberately slow, and you couldn't tell if he was being a tease or giving you the opportunity to turn him down. 

You wished you could go back in time to tell yourself to skip the tights so you could actually feel the heat of his palm pressed against your skin. Cursing the barely-there layer of fabric preventing you from knowing precisely how the pad of his thumb felt as it dragged back-and-forth in comforting little motions over the inside of your thigh. 

He wasn't even looking at you, but you could hardly breathe, sitting stiff, trying to be cool about it and failing miserably. 

“Haven't seen you around our shows before,” He commented, his attention still focused on the road ahead. You watched his side profile, traced it against the dark window behind him, all the sharp lines softened by the shadows and dim lights passing by. 

“It’s actually the first one I’ve been to,” You admitted, letting go of some of the tension you were holding in your shoulders, starting to relax in his company. 

“Oh yeah?” A thin brow arched up, and you weren't sure what to make of how the corner of his mouth twitched into something that could've been a smirk or a smile. “I hope it wasn't the last.”

“Why's that?” You hummed, one hand drifting down to rest on top of his, your fingers feeling so much smaller when they slid in-between his. Slowly urging his hand to move higher, to press down harder, until it disappeared under your dress. 

“I’d like to see you again,” He casually said. 

You knew he wasn't talking about a date. Could feel the simmering tension in his carefully-chosen words and the unspoken ones lingering under them.

“Then ask me,” You shrugged. 

“Come to the next one tomorrow.” 

That didn't really sound like him asking. 

You didn't say anything for a second, internally debating on whether or not he'd give in if you called him on it. 

“You want me to say please?” He teased with a firm squeeze of your thigh, letting his fingers sink into the soft flesh until he felt the muscle underneath. 

“I guess I could rearrange my schedule for you,” You drew it out with a small sigh, the flash of pride on his face only making you wonder what other sorts of expressions you could pull out of him. 

“How kind of you,” He wryly commented.

You let him fill you in on the other details. Their next venue was one you'd been to before, had bigger, better acoustics. His mouth curled up just slightly when he said he'd bring you backstage before it started, and you didn't have the heart to tell him you already knew the guy who usually worked it, would probably have been able to get back there on your own. 

But even when he talked about the band or the show, he never really said much about himself. Asking a few questions about you, sure, but nothing to create the illusion that he was looking for a relationship.

Realistically, you knew he probably liked the idea that he was something for you to admire, someone to be adored. You didn't mind filling whatever role he wanted from you.

You still found your heart thumping painfully hard against your chest when he parked in front of your apartment building. 

“Walk me inside?” You opened yourself up to rejection, not sure if he'd accept or decline. 

“Sure,” He simply said, pulling out his keys and pocketing them as he got out of the car. 

You had barely unbuckled your seatbelt before he was striding around to get your door, content to play his part as the gentleman.

He held out a hand for you to take as you stood up, ducking your head before it smacked against the roof of his car. He didn't let go though, and you were surprised to discover his hand was actually almost freezing when his calloused palm was pressed against yours. You muttered something inconsequential about how quiet it was, anything to fill the heavy pause as you led him towards the front door and into the lobby. 

Part of you knew you were babbling, wincing at how bright the fluorescent lighting against the white tile was as you crossed over to the elevator, pointedly ignoring the fact that his fingers still interlaced with your own, something that you were fairly certain was short-circuiting your brain. 

It wasn't until you pressed the button for your floor that he stopped you, your lips falling open with a soft oh when his free hand gently brushed against your cheek, pulling your attention back up to him. 

“Do I have to ask now?” He murmured. Like he needed your permission to kiss you when you were not-very-subtly trying to invite him inside. 

“You should do what you want,” You breathed. 

He sucked in a sharp little breath, but you saw the glimmer of amusement in his eyes when he just barely shook his head. 

“And what do I want?” As if his stare wasn't piercing through you like he could see through the thin layer of clothes currently separating your bodies, his thumb tracing your cheekbone while he studied your face. 

“Me, I hope,” You admitted with a small laugh, leaning into his touch. 

His lips parted right when the elevator creaked to a stop, a little ding! interrupting as the doors opened onto your floor. 

You pouted when he pulled back, his hand still in yours when you reluctantly stepped out, his sturdy frame sticking to your side as he followed you down the hall to your door. 

“This is me,” You couldn't stifle your second yawn, disappointed you had to drop his hand while you dug through your tiny purse for your keys. “You know, you could co-”

“You should sleep,” He firmly said, leaning against the wall, slinging his hands in his pockets. You paused in your search, a mixture of hurt and disappointment swirling across your face. 

“Oh,” You mumbled, looking back down so you didn't have to meet his stare. 

His chuckle was soft, breaking the thick silence when he abruptly leaned down to press a kiss on the top of your hair, pausing to brush his lips against your ear. 

“I think you'll need it.”

“Oh, oh fuck.”

Breathy moans and the smack of skin-on-skin greeted you when you pushed open the door, the jagged teeth of the spare key biting into your palm when you walked into your friend's apartment the next morning. You huffed, rolling your eyes as you took a few steps in, unsurprised to find him sprawled out on the couch, his eyes barely focused on the tv with a girl half-naked on his lap, his hands gripping her thighs while he half-heartedly thrusted up.

She saw you first, her face flushing a bright red, eyes going wide as you offered a small wave before going back to scanning the room for what you'd come here for. 

“Kuna,” She hissed at him, smacking his chest to draw his attention to you. 

“Sorry,” You shrugged sympathetically, spotting your jacket slung on top of one of the barstools pushed against the tall counter separating the living room from the kitchen. “Don’t mind me. Just gonna grab this and go.”

“Leave,” He gruffly muttered. 

You were about to snap back at him that was what you literally just said you were going to do, throwing your jacket over the crook of your elbow when the girl on top of him huffed. 

“You fucking asshole,” She gritted her teeth, hurrying to throw the rest of her clothes back on from where they were scattered across the floor and the surface of his scuffed-up coffee table. 

He didn't bother replying, flicking through the channels like he couldn't care less while she scrambled to go. 

“He's a dick,” You commented in solidarity as she bent over barefoot to snag last night's heels by the entryway, slamming the door behind her as she left. 

“Wanna say that to my face?” Sukuna grumbled, like his dick wasn't still out, his sweatpants tugged down low below his hips. He pulled the condom off with a frown, tossing it on the coffee table. 

“Whatever,” You rolled your eyes, turning back towards the door. 

“Where do you think you're going?” His voice was still thick with sleep, hoarse and irritated when he threw an annoyed look over his shoulder at you. “And why are you taking my jacket?”

“What?” You returned his glare. “It's mine.”

“No, it's not,” He blinked a few times, looking at you like you were even more of an idiot than usual. 

“Um, yeah, it is,” You insisted. 

“Um, no, it's not,” He mimicked the way you said it, making fun of you before his voice turned serious. “Just because you keep stealing it from me doesn't make it yours.”

You pouted, racking your brain for the memory of when you bought it just to come up empty. Half of your clothes had ended up at his place anyway, it's not like you were the best at keeping track of what came from where, never really sure if what you were wearing was meant to be oversized or just another item belonging to him. 

“Can I borrow it then?” You reluctantly conceded, chewing on your cheek. 

“Aren’t you always complaining that Jin's place is too hot?” He acted like it was beneath him just to remind you, throwing an arm over the back of the couch as he readjusted. 

“I’ve got other plans,” You sighed, twinges of guilt pricking at you even though he was the one who just assumed you'd be coming with him to his twin's house. 

He laughed as if you said something ridiculous. 

“Yeah? Where exactly are you going?” 

Did he think you just had no life outside of him? 

“You didn't seem to care where I was when you didn't pick me up last night.” 

He rolled his eyes right back at you, a thick brow arching up when he sighed. 

“You're the one who didn't listen when I told you not to go,” He didnissively pointed out, turning his attention back to the tv like he automatically won the argument. 

“Is Kuna jealous?” You mocked, pushing your bottom lip out in a pretend pout. “Their show sold out and your last one didn't?”

He was the one who introduced you to their music anyway - even if it was just so he could make fun of his competition. Really, he should've known better. You weren't really the kind of person who could just enjoy things in moderation - fixating on whatever latest interest caught your attention, giving it all until there was nothing left.

You didn't get what the big deal was. 

His band had been around longer, was by all means the more popular one of the two. Besides, it was just one show. It wasn't like you ever missed any of his. 

“As if I’d be jealous of them,” He practically spat. 

“Sure,” You dryly said, glancing between him and the door. 

“Quit being a brat and c’mere,” He called out, lazily raking his fingers through his hair, messy pink spikes sticking up. 

“Could you put that up first?” You groaned, stomping a few steps closer so you could gesture at the erection he was still sporting, the tip the same shade of pink, pre-cum leaking out onto the fist that was wrapped around it. 

“Nothing you haven't seen before,” He grunted, stuffing it back in his sweatpants while you huffed at his crude reminder. 

You didn't join him on the couch, standing up a little straighter like you couldn't feel the blush dusting your cheeks. His eyes cut back towards you, squinting like he was annoyed just thinking about trying to read your expression.

“Don’t tell me you're actually mad at me.” Like it'd be so completely ridiculous for you to be upset he chose a random one night stand over you. 

When you were the one who'd known him practically since diapers, had been the one there before he was just Sukuna, without the albums or the money or the notariety, sharing a shitty studio apartment, juggling a job and school until he finally managed to land a contract. The whole fucking each other bit came later, after you both moved into your own places. Yeah, he'd rather die than admit it, you knew it was because he missed having you around all the time. And if he couldn't have you next to him, he'd just settle for you under him. 

“You would've called if you actually needed me to get you,” He finished, as if it was somehow beneath him to explain it to you.

“Are you even going to ask how I got home?” You frowned, fixing him in the same glower he was directing towards you. 

“How'd you get home?” His sarcasm was obvious, breaking the stare to turn his attention back to the dull drone of whatever reality show was playing in the background. 

“Suguru Geto drove me,” You hmph-ed, pride flickering in your careful pronunciation of his name. 

Sukuna actually sat up. 

Turned the show off, tossing the remote on the table with a clatter when he just as abruptly let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. 

“Very funny,” He dismissively shook his head, the muscles in his jaw pulled tight. 

“I'm not joking.”

You readjusted the jacket over your arm, shuffling your feet at how fast his eyes darkened, his face twisting into a grimace when he realized you were, in fact, completely serious. 

“You fucked him?”

“No,” You were quick to deny it, but the words you didn't say hung in the air, the urge to let not yet roll off your tongue instead. 

“Yeah? He was just kind enough to give you a ride home?” His voice wasn't just laced with venom, it was dripping with it. 

You knew he didn't actually care if you slept with someone else. That the real betrayal was you simply accepting a ride from someone he considered a rival, someone below him. 

“He invited me to their show tonight,” You informed him, struggling to keep your head held high under the weight of his glare. 

“And you're going?” 

“Yeah,” You nodded, despising how meek it came out. 

Even if he was mad now, he'd get over it in a few days. 

Or at least, after the gig he had next weekend, one you’d already promised him you'd go to. 

“Those guys are assholes,” He grunted, as if he hadn't just been called one not even ten minutes ago. 

“And you're not?” You laughed. 

You weren't delusional. You knew the rockstar type well. Being friends (with benefits) with one meant you knew it better than most. Maybe Suguru was nicer about it. More respectful. Would probably treat you a little kinder, a little softer. But once the moment was over and you woke up the next morning, you knew that was where it ended. 

You would just be another notch on Suguru's bed post but he'd only be another one on yours. 

Sukuna pushed off the couch, the springs letting out a loud creak under the weight of his palm when he stood up. It only took him a few steps for his hulking frame to cut off your view of practically anything else, his lips pressed into a thin line while he grabbed you by the waist, fingers roughly digging into your side. 

“Wha-”

“Do you ever shut up?” He tch-ed, picking you up easily and hoisting you over his shoulder, the harsh edges of his collarbone made it hard to breathe when they pressed into your stomach. 

“You're one to talk,” You mumbled into his back, half-heartedly hitting his shoulder blade just for him to toss you over to the other side of the couch, pulling the wrinkled blanket off the back of it and throwing it at your face. 

Dick. 

You kept that thought to yourself even though it was definitely written all over your face. 

But you made yourself comfortable anyway, moving the blanket over your legs and laying the jacket over the armrest so you wouldn't forget it when you had to leave later. He crashed down next to you, propping his feet up on your lap. 

“Could you keep your limbs to yourself for once?” You shoved them off, ignoring the hundredth scowl he threw your way. 

“Like you weren't just begging me to touch you yesterday.” 

“Like I won't just get up and go if you wanna keep acting like a dickhead.”

“What? Gonna run off to your new boyfriend?” he mocked, throwing his feet up on the coffee table instead. 

“Maybe,” You shot back, cocking your head to the side and reaching across him to pick the remote back up off the table and turn the tv back on. 

You were getting a little sick of being the girl keeping his bed warm when he'd just find a new body to fill it every time you upset him. You missed just being friends - when teasing didn't turn into a one-way trip to being tangled in his sheets. 

“Whatever,” He growled, apparently making himself mad at the thought of sharing you with Suguru. “Jus’ don't come crying to me when he breaks your heart.”

You came.”

“You asked me to,” You shrugged, slipping your hands in the pockets of your Sukuna's jacket and glancing across the other cars scattered across the back lot, a few security guards milling around on their break outside as you crossed over the rocky pavement to join Suguru by the employee entrance.

He wasn't smoking this time, his fingers currently occupied running his fingers through the back of his hair, the top half swept up in a bun, dark bangs framing his face. When he went to open the door for you, you couldn't help the small smile curling up on your face when you realized your name was still on his arm. A little smudged, sure, but it didn't appear he even attempted to scrub it off. He held the door open with his arm stretched out, palm pressed against its side, only a few inches shy of the top, giving you ample space to slip inside underneath it like maybe he wanted to remind you just how tall he was.

“You sleep okay?” He murmured, his hand finding the small of your back once he followed you inside the dimly-lit corridor, guiding you through the hall, passing by equipment and set pieces in the direction of a waiting room you knew well. You could still hear the noise of the crowd from here, the dull roar of all the voices mixing together, the charged anticipation crackling in the air.

“Yeah, I did,” You answered, fiddling around with a guitar pick you found in the jacket pocket, running your fingers across its smooth surface and over its rounded edges, needing something to fidget with. It still smelled like him when you first shrugged it on, the scent clinging to the leather underneath the perfume you spritzed on. “You?”

“I tried to,” He casually shrugged, having to lean down so you'd actually be able to hear him.

“What stopped you?” You asked, peering up at him, surprised at the depth to your curiosity. A question that would've just been polite to anyone else carried more weight with him, because you did want to know.

“I might've had something on my mind.” Or someone, judging by how intently his eyes were currently focused on you, watching your face to see the way it flushed, your cheeks burning when you averted your gaze back down the hall.

“Suguru!” Someone shouted his name, and a flash of white caught your eye before you recognized who it was. The infamous frontman, Satoru Gojo in the flesh, waving your date over. “Where'd you go - oh.”

The first thing you noticed about him was his smile - but it was next to impossible to miss the pretty teeth on display when he grinned so wide. A wired sort of amusement that practically glimmered in his wide blue eyes when they spotted you, openly checking you out before looking back to his bandmate.

“This her?” Cocking his head to the side like his neck couldn't support the heaviness of his stare, an arched brow raised.

“Her?” You repeated under your breath, nudging Suguru’s firm side with your elbows.

“Ignore him,” Suguru murmured in your ear, and it might've been your imagination, but his palm pressed flatter, pulled you in a little closer. “He's an idiot.”

“She’s hot,” The idiot commented, striding over to join you. You thought he had a cigarette in his mouth until he got a little closer, and realized his vice was actually just a lollipop, staining his lips pink.

“So I'm not hot?” You teased, fishing for a compliment.

“That's not what I said,” Suguru rolled his eyes, but you could see the smile he was suppressing. Still, he introduced you, jutting his free thumb towards his bandmate, but he got cut off before he could finish.

“You can call me Satoru,” Gojo stuck his hand out just for Suguru to swat it down. He laughed it off though, raking a hand through the soft buzz of his undercut. “Suguru says you don't smoke.”

“Not really my thing,” You confirmed. You'd tried a few times. Back when Sukuna's band was just starting out and still stuck playing the shittiest of bars, always somehow ending up taking the last drag of his cigarette every time he offered.

At some point though, he'd stopped offering, then stopped smoking entirely.

Gojo pulled out a second sucker, cherry-flavored judging by the wrapper and tossed it to you. Catching it with a laugh, you pulled off the wrinkled plastic, shoving it in the pocket with the pick before popping the candy in your mouth, letting it swirl against your tongue.

“Ijichi’s bitchin’ trying to find you,” Gojo addressed Suguru, not dragging his eyes away from the stick dangling from your lips.

“Yeah?” Suguru grunted, pulling you past his friend to continue down the hall towards an open doorway, the muffled voices of a few guys chattering drifting out.

“He's with Shoko,” Gojo happily hummed, pointing a few doors down. “But he said he really needs to talk to you.”

You could see the frustration in the twitch of his brow, Suguru's lips pressed in a thin line like he was torn on what to do.

It's not like you actually knew Gojo. But you knew when someone was full of shit.

“I'll be right back,” Suguru sighed, glancing down the hall to the door Gojo pointed out. “Feel free to hit him if he says something stupid.”

“You see how mean he is to me?” Gojo pulled out his sucker so he could push out his bottom lip, apparently seeing no shame in being a grown man pouting like a child.

“Seriously, you can smack him,” Suguru grunted, his hand reluctantly releasing your back as he stepped away.

You gave him a small wave, watching him go until Gojo poked your cheek, pulling your attention back to him.

“Wanna meet the band?” He offered, and you wondered what was more dangerous, the glint in his eyes or the grin on his face.

“Sure,” You nodded, a piece of the sucker breaking off when you rolled it over your teeth.

He walked fast, always two steps ahead of you as he hurried to the waiting room ahead.

“I said I'm sorry,” Someone whined inside.

“Okay.”

“But I really am.”

“I said okay,” The second voice bluntly repeated.

“Guys, Suguru's girlfriend is here,” Gojo sing-songed, holding his arms out in a ridiculous sort of ta-da! gesture when you passed through the frame.

You knew he was just teasing.

But being called Suguru's girlfriend, anyone's girlfriend, actually, choked up the greeting you had prepared, your tongue numb and throat dry.

“Hi!” A perky voice called out, a guy who looked more like he belonged in a boy band with his big brown puppy dog eyes and an unkempt bowl cut than behind a set of drums in a rock band waving at you. Sitting on the edge of the couch's armrest, despite the open seats, just to lean over the blond next to him. “Nice to meet you!”

“That's Haibara,” Gojo pointed out, as if you were somehow unaware of their names despite meeting Suguru at their show. “The grumpy one’s Nanamin.”

“Do not call me that.”

A pair of amber eyes measured you, flicking up-and-down once just for them to drift back to your face, studying you carefully.

“Just say hi,” Haibara nudged him, jostling his shoulder behind him. He barely moved an inch though, if anything he only frowned harder. A few loose strands of blond hair had fallen in his face, the rest pretty cleaned parted.

“Hello,” He eventually said, and you had no idea someone could make two syllables sound so frosty. But you didn't think it was meant to be directed at you when his attention had drifted to the man hanging next to you.

“Um, hi, nice to meet you guys too,” You awkwardly greeted back, tucking your loose hair behind your ear as you pulled your jacket a bit tighter around yourself.

“Gojo,” The blond addressed his bandmate with a cold stare, all the sharp lines of his face jagged, jaw set in a hard line. “Do you have an extra guitar pick?”

“Nah, why?”

His sigh came from his chest, huffing out a brusque exhale from his nose before rubbing his temple.

“Someone,” He cut a look at Haibara’s quickly deflating face before continuing. “Somehow managed to snap mine.”

“That sucks,” Gojo shrugged, not particularly sounding like he really cared about anything not concerning himself, checking the time on his phone while he talked. “Ask Suguru. Or just play without one. I know you're not as good with your fingers as me but-”

Nanami openly scoffed at his blatant double entendre.

“As you?” He clenched his jaw, rolling his eyes.

“What?” Gojo frowned.

Nanami was biting his tongue though, letting his disdain show on his face as he continued to tune his bass on his lap, his expression making it clear he wasn't just talking about Gojo playing back-up guitar.

“Okay, just because I haven't had much luck getting laid lately doesn't mean-”

“Just lately?” Nanami muttered, not bothering to look up.

You never would've guessed Gojo's reputation was just that - rumors and fiction rather than actual accounts.

It was hard not to giggle at Nanami's snide comment, digging through your pocket to feel for Sukuna's pick. You pulled it out, crossing the few steps over to where Nanami was sitting on a worn couch. He glanced up at the sound of your steps, a faint flicker of surprise reflecting in his eyes when he realized it was you and not Gojo.

“This one okay?” You held it out. He appraised it, shrewdly staring before his gaze cautiously returned to your face.

“You play?” He questioned, like there could possibly be something suspicious in you offering to lend him a guitar pick.

“No, my friend does,” You answered. It was obvious he wanted to accept, but you didn't know why he was being so stiff about it.

“And they won't mind if I use this?”

Oh, Sukuna would definitely mind. If he knew.

“It's fine,” You shrugged. “You can just give it back after the show.”

Nanami started to nod, and you tossed it over. He caught it with one nimble hand, his fist closing around it quickly.

“You should sit,” He tilted his head towards the empty spot next to him on the couch, the cushion dented and pocked with holes from all the use and abuse over the years. You joined him, albeit a little hesitantly, half your brain stuck on if Suguru would be coming back soon considering there was hardly that much time left before they went on stage.

“Thanks,” You murmured, the springs squeaking as you sat.

“No, thank you,” He spoke more politely now, still throwing a sharp glare at an oblivious Gojo, too occupied playing on his phone to notice, before turning back to you. “I usually bring extras, but I was in a rush today.”

“It's really nothing.”

It wasn't like you resuscitated his dead pet or gave him a hundred bucks. Although, he could probably sell it online for more if he knew whose it was.

"So is Gojo's cockiness just, like, him compensating for something or-"

"Hey, I can still hear you-" Gojo called out from across the room.

Your phone buzzed inside your jacket, and you dug it out to see Sukuna's name on the screen with a couple missed messages. It was the second one that made you want to strangle him.

Think he'll leak your sex tape?

He could be such an dickhead.

Making wild fucking assumptions about what kind of person Suguru was and acting like you were a whore as if he wasn't one himself. Just throwing out empty words at you because he couldn't handle his own feelings. You were pretty sure even if you did make a sex tape and someone leaked it, no matter who it was with, he'd probably end up in jail for murder at worst and assault at best.

You huffed, swiping away his message and turning on do not disturb before he could make any more attempts at ruining your night. Just because he wanted to be miserable didn't mean you had to be too.

You were about to shove it back in your pocket before a pale hand swiped it from you, plucking it easily out of your grip. You frowned, brows knitted together in equal parts annoyance and amusement when you glanced up at Gojo.

"You know, I won't hesitate to hit you," You warned, holding your hand out for him to return it.

He just laughed though, his never-bothered grin glued to his face while his finger was busy tapping and typing on the screen.

"I'm just checking something," He hm-ed, turning around and stepping back like you might pop up and snatch it back at any moment.

"Yeah, right," You scoffed.

"You don't follow me?" He whined, his head whipping back to look at you like he really was wounded by the discovery, flashing your phone screen back to you as if to prove the follow button was right there on his page.

"You're not exactly my type," You sighed, lying through your teeth, but apparently believable by the genuinely hurt expression he wore now.

“I'm everyone's type,” He huffed.

“Not her’s,” Nanami cooly reminded him, one brow subtly arched up.

You couldn't stifle your giggle this time though, your hand automatically going to cover your mouth as if it would somehow shield the sound that already slipped from your lips.

Still pouting, he tossed your phone back over to you after a long minute, your contacts open to where he added his name and number.

“Why-”

“Satoru,” Suguru interrupted from the doorway before you could finish, leaning against the frame with his arms folded across his chest, frowning at his friend. “Ijichi wasn't in there.”

“Oh?” Gojo feigned ignorance, hm-ing like he was in thought when you were starting to question if thinking was something even in his repertoire. “My bad. I had no idea.”

Sure.

Suguru's attention shifted to you, his hard edges softening a bit once he spotted you on the couch. It didn't take him long to cross over, and you started to scoot over so he had enough space to sit, but he pulled you onto his lap instead.

Any ounce of cool you’d retained evaporated.

Resting a cool palm on your thigh, readjusting you until your back was flush against his chest with a quiet sigh.

“Comfortable?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

Your nod was stiff though, not sure where to put your own hands or how to act natural when you weren't accustomed to being so open with someone. You settled on toying with the sucker still in-between your lips, twirling it around.

“Did Satoru bother you?” He sighed again, the muscles of his thighs flexing as he settled into the cushion, his focus solely on you and not the white-haired singer currently plucking loudly at the strings of his guitar.

“On a scale of one to ten?” You pretended to think, reclining a little and turning so you could get a better look at him, resting against his shoulder. “Maybe a four?”

“That’s pretty low for him,” Suguru tilted his head to the side, the tendons in his neck flexing, his voice so silky and soft and low, and fuck, you didn't think you'd ever wanted to kiss someone so badly. To trace all the smooth lines, map out every inch of his body and have him do the same to you.

“I believe that,” You forced a short laugh, dragging your focus away from him like he hurt to look at. It sort of did when each time his eyes met yours, it felt like all the air left your lungs.

Glancing back over the rest of his band, distracting yourself by trying to catalogue your thoughts on them. Contrary to the venom Sukuna’d been spitting, they were all startlingly nice.

Maybe Nanami was a little standoffish to start, but it wasn't like he was a dick or anything.

Unfortunately, you knew Sukuna well enough to wager whatever bad blood had been spilled between them was probably on his hands.

A fidgety man popped around the corner, wringing his hands as he checked the watch on the rest.

“You guys are about to go on,” He started rambling, running through a last-minute checklist as they started to get up, Gojo chatting with Haibara and completely ignoring the guy you guessed was their manager.

Suguru picked you up, his hands clinging to your waist and not leaving as you both stood. You were still avoiding the intensity of his attention, acting like you were distracted by a mysterious stain on the sofa until his palm rested against your throat, fingertips brushing against your hair.

“Eyes on me out there,” He murmured, apparently entertained by you being more nervous than him judging by the smirk he didn't bother to hide.

“Only you?” You swallowed hard, barely managing to get the question out in a sharp breath.

“Only me.”

There was no way he didn't know the effect he had. Holding your neck like that, speaking in that husky tone, commanding without even trying, probably able to feel your pulse racing under his thumb.

“You gonna wish me luck?” Suguru chuckled, your suspicions confirmed by the way he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the vein.

“Good luck,” You hoped it sounded casual, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You pulled the sucker out of your mouth, faintly aware your mouth was probably cherry-red by now.

For all his harsh features, his smile was soft, warm when you were at the center of it.

Before you could lose your nerve, you got up on your tiptoes, pressing a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips.

You caught him off guard, his thick lashes fluttering as he blinked a few times, staring at you. Mouth opening to say something when Gojo interrupted the moment.

“Wish me luck too?”

Even if you wanted to, there was no way you ever would've been able to take your eyes off him the second he stepped on stage.

Entranced by his hands and the shape of his mouth, how he moved and how his shirt clung to his shoulders, whatever magnetism seemed to be instilled in his bones pulling your focus back to him every time your attention started to drift. And like he could feel your gaze on him, he’d look over to where you were watching him from the side, wearing a familiar smirk while he strummed the next chord.

It still felt like it ended almost as soon as it started, the songs blurring from one to the next, like you blinked a few times and Gojo was cockily signing off. Soaking up the applause and the attention from the crowd, leisurely walking off as the noise started to taper down.

A few of the staff already started to pack up the equipment, tearing stuff down as people started for the exits.

But Suguru was heading for you.

Guitar still slung across his chest, readjusting the strap with one hand, returning the favor by never letting his eyes stray from you.

“Sugu-”

He cut you off with a kiss, a quick one, but one that still seared when it connected.

“I should help them,” He pulled away, his calloused fingertips tracing the spot where his lips had been on yours, glancing back towards the stage with a sigh. “Wait for me?”

“Mhm, um, yeah,” You cleared your throat, still a little stunned as he turned to walk away and leave you to stare at the empty space he left behind.

He didn't make you wait too long. Hurrying through packing stuff up and saying his goodbyes to the rest of the bandmates, carefully setting his sleek black guitar back in its case before leading you out from where you came in with one hand in the handle and the other on the small of your back.

"So?"

"So," You echoed his question, the door thudding shut behind you. Even with the winter chill, everything felt hot. A fever that seemed to take residence in your brain and fry your nerves every time he looked at you like that. Before it could reach the surface, you started walking back towards your car, the rest of the back lot mostly deserted by now.

"Your second impression?" He asked, his voice a velvet hum, skirting around whether he meant him, or the band.

"If I say it was better than the first?" You admitted with a laugh, barely resisting the temptation to turn when he chuckled too.

He set his guitar case down, slipping a hand over your hip and twisted you back around when you reached the driver's door of your car.

"I'd appreciate that," He murmured, drawing you closer into the faint heat of his chest.

"Yeah?"

"I wanted to impress you," He casually replied, like it was the easiest thing in the world to admit. His shoulders barely moving up in a shrug, no twitch of his mouth or averted gaze like it was some cheap line he was tossing your way to lure you in.

“Well, it worked,” You shrugged back, unable to stop your eyes flickering from the depths of his dark eyes down to his lips.

It happened slowly.

Giving you enough time to register all the little details to save for later, his other hand cupping your face, fingers tethering themselves in your hair to tilt your head just right, the same warm cologne enveloping you when his body pressed against yours, the chill from the handle of your car door seeping through your clothes as you found yourself caught between it and him.

And then his mouth was on yours, his lips tenderly pressing a gentle kiss against your own, the kind that made your head spin.

There was no urgency, nothing sloppy or desperate in it. It was easy to get wrapped up in his casual confidence, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down further into you, how silky his hair felt in your fingertips, the taste of mint on his lips and the pretty slope of his nose bumping just slightly into yours. Brushing his thumb across your cheek in some subtle show of something close to affection once you kissed him back harder.

You'd almost forgotten how it felt to be kissed like that.

Sukuna just didn't. The last time you kissed had been the first time you slept together, an unspoken agreement that was a boundary neither of you should cross again taking effect afterwards. Fucking was fine, but making out was apparently too much. And sure, some of the other guys you've hooked up with since had, but they all just felt like a means to an end.

You wanted to blame how hungrily you were kissing him on that, but maybe it was just the fact that it was him that was making you so needy. Sucking on his lower lip, pulse thrumming in your throat when his tongue slipped inside your mouth, tracing your teeth and exploring your mouth while his body pinned you against the car.

“My place or yours?” You heard your own breathless question in the brief reprieve he allowed for air, his lips returning to yours the second the last consonant came out.

“I booked us a hotel,” He replied, his fingers sinking deeper in your hair.

And it wasn't like you hadn't sorta expected it, but the reminder that this was just a temporary thing stung.

His mouth made it hard to linger on that though.

Not when he was kissing you like it'd last forever.

The bittersweet taste fading to the back of your brain even after he pulled away, throwing his stuff in the trunk of his car and opening the door for you to get in with assurances he could bring you back to pick up your car in the morning.

His current seemed to drag you under, getting swept up in his easy affection, his hand on your knee when he reminded you to buckle up, his lingering glances as he started the car. Your own fingers sliding up his thigh when he pulled out on the street, squeezing the sturdy muscles underneath his jeans.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, pretty girl,” Suguru warned, the heat pooling between your thighs just at the gravel in his usually smooth voice.

“Am I?” You hummed, feigning innocence as your hand drifted higher, palm pressing flat to rub against the outline of his bulge. “You know, I don't plan on starting anything I can't finish.”

It was cute watching him sit up straighter, how his shoulders rolled back, muscles pulled taut as you gradually increased the pressure until he was sporting a tent, straining to be contained underneath the zipper.

“Sugu,” You cooed his name, fingers skimming up to tug down the zipper, moving up his seatbelt and adjusting his jeans enough to manage to tug his cock free.

You could feel your throat go dry, tongue numb at the sight of it, the realization that you were really playing a dangerous game here if he expected you to take all of that.

“Speechless?” He mocked, throwing you a knowing glance before returning his eyes to the road. The stoplight ahead flickered to red, his foot easing on the brake as he rolled to a stop.

“N-no, just, um-” Your stammering wasn't exactly helping your case, but in one swift movement, he was reaching out, his hand sliding around the back of your hair, grabbing a fistful and guiding your face down until your mouth was hovering over the thick pink tip of his cock, a bead of pre-cum already glistening at the top.

Your lips parting automatically, slowly wrapping your lips around him, your seatbelt straining hard against your chest as you slowly started to sink down on him.

His groan was probably the hottest thing you ever heard.

Swirling your tongue around, feeling the thick vein throb against it as he pressed up into the roof of your mouth, forced hard into the back of your throat when he hit a bump in the road.

“Sorry,” He chuckled, his grip on your hair relaxing into slow pets, stroking it softly as you bobbed your head up-and-down, your hand wrapped around the base of his shaft. You popped off of it for a moment, slowly running your tongue along the slit, pressing a teasing kiss there.

“Am I distracting you?”

“You've been distracting me all day,” He casually said, his dreamy little sigh at the end only holding a lighter to the ever-shortening fuse of your desperation. Thinking of him thinking about you? Waiting for this?

Wanting him was starting to feel much more like a need. One you didn't know if you could suppress.

Struggling to fit as much as possible in without gagging or grazing him with your teeth, the poorly-paved road not helping your rhythm much. You could feel your face flushing, the spit pooling in your mouth when his hips bucked up, driving himself deeper, too full to move when his hand was holding your head there.

“Fuck,” He murmured, hoarse and low.

A whine was building in your throat, embarrassed by how damp your panties already were just from the sound of his voice, sticking uncomfortably to the inside of your thighs as you clenched around nothing. Suguru tugged on your hair, finding a new rhythm for you, pulling you up to shove you back down. His deep hums of approval only made you work harder for it, your attempts to tease him turned into him toying with you.

He was slowing down again at the next stoplight, one hand resting on the wheel as the other easily puppeteered you, his breath hitching in his throat, Adam's apple bobbing hard while he bruised your throat.

“Gonna swallow for me?” He pulled you up, your mouth sucking softly at the tip, his own lips pursed tight at the sensation.

“Mhm,” You nodded, blinking up at him, eyes probably glossed over already, the lust leaving you dizzy, all your thoughts blurring together and entirely devoted to him.

He sucked in a sharp breath when you tried to take all of him in, stifling a gag as you did, whimpering when you felt your throat constrict around him. And maybe it was the noise, or maybe he just liked how eager you were to please him, but his restraint slipped, his hand pushing you down until your lips reached the hilt of him, all the muscles in his abs tensing up as warm cum filled your throat, the vein pressed against your tongue throbbing hard as he finished what you started.

Swallowing every last drop, even after his hand let go of your hair, drifting down to rub small circles on your back, his dick still hard in your mouth.

You weren't sure how long it took you to pull away, running your fingers under your eyes to wipe away any eyeliner or mascara that had smeared in the process, readjusting your seatbelt across your chest.

“We're almost there,” He spoke softly, glancing over when he had to turn. His thumb dragging over the corner of your lips to swipe away what you'd missed just to pop it back in your mouth, his knuckles grazing against your teeth while he waited for you to clean it off.

There was just something about him that made you want to comply.

You let your tongue slide across it, sucking hard just to nip at him, sink your teeth against the bone once you finished. Even his laugh wasn't fair.

“Careful,” He warned. “I bite back.”

You felt wasted on him by the time he pushed the door open and flicked on the lights, one of his hands fumbling to flip the lock as the other tangled back in your hair, trailing careful kisses up your neck and across your jaw. Kicking your heels off and pulling down your jacket, tossing it onto the closest piece of furniture, fingers hurrying to tug up his shirt and discard that too.

He laughed, helping you get it the rest of the way off, throwing it where the jacket had landed, but you were distracted staring at him while he bent over to untie his boots, kicking them over to your shoes. His defined muscles, the dark happy trail peeking up above the band of his underwear. There was a tattoo by his ribs, but you didn't get much of a chance to look before he was kissing you again, a hand sliding over your hips, your waist, all the way up until he reached your breast, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, testing how much pressure he had to apply until you started squirming in his hold, the short breaths you were forcing out of your nose starting to stutter.

“On the bed.”

It was hard to place what it was. Not a command, but not exactly a request either. Nonchalant, honeyed, knowing you would obey before you'd said anything.

“How do you want me?” You couldn't resist teasing him a little first, brushing back his bangs and batting your lashes.

“Is that what you-?” He started to ask, an eyebrow barely arched up, probably about to issue some unneeded warning or give you an out you didn't want to take.

“I told you last time,” You sighed as you reminded him, dragging your finger down his chest. “Do what you want with me.”

You just said the silent part out loud this time.

And it didn't surprise you that Suguru was the sort of man who knew exactly what he wanted.

Face-down on the mattress, sturdy fingers pulling down the zipper of your dress excruciatingly slowly, sliding it down your body as if he needed time to admire every inch of skin as it was revealed to him. His touch seemed to leave phantom fingerprints with each lingering graze, and by the time your dress hit the floor, you were pretty positive he had a full view of the damp patch of your panties the intensity of his kisses and touch had left.

Suguru chuckled, and you buried your face in the comforter.

His hand slipped in between your thighs, rubbing tantalizing little circles over your clit, everything inside you tensing at the friction through the thin lace.

“Poor baby, you're all worked up,” He commented with a condescending hm.

You hadn't realized it was a question until the heat of his palm disappeared, a tiny whine of disappointment escaping before you could stop it. But it came back down just as fast, his cupped hand connecting firmly with your clit as he spanked you, tearing a gasp from your throat.

“Well?” He waited, your brain too stunned to process what was going on, all the receptors flicking from pleasure to pain then back to pleasure, the bundle of nerves aching for him to do it again.

“I need you,” You mumbled into the comforter, the fabric rustling underneath the grip of your nails, the need in your core pulling so tight it almost physically hurt.

“Need me to what?” Suguru clicked his tongue, his hand skimming over your ass appreciatively, so gentle it was hard to believe it was the same hand that just spanked you.

“M-more,” You stammered, flustered to find yourself under his thumb so readily.

The next one was harder, his fingers returning to massaging dizzying circles against the swollen bud, and you couldn't help the way your body jolted, your muscles taut and straining. He pulled you back, hooking his fingers around the band of your underwear and pulling it down your thighs as he pried them further apart.

You gasped when you felt his tongue lick a clean stripe up up up, dipping it inside slowly. Warm open-mouthed kisses, taking his time to explore you like you were something worth exploring. Letting his tongue swirl around, push in deeper, every flick and drag of it earning him muffled whimpers, unable to resist the instinct to grind back on him.

He was so steady. Every motion deliberate, precise, dragging his tongue up and down, fluid and practiced in every devoted circle he made inside you. Lapping the mess you'd made up like your taste belonged on his tongue, a quiet moan leaving him that made your stomach twist and knot. Drowning out the blood roaring in your ears when all you could focus on was his heavy breathing, hoping to hear that again.

“What do you wanna cum on first, baby?” He breathed, planting slow kisses along your ass, acting like you were a treat rather than just a toy for him to play with. “My tongue or my fingers?”

Fuck, you wanted both.

You couldn't answer, only managing shattered gasps when he suddenly bit down, his teeth sinking into the cheek.

“Want me to pick for you?” He teased, tracing the little indentations his teeth had left on your skin.

“F-fingers,” You managed to stutter, chest heaving.

The thought of him fingerfucking you had lived rent free in your head since the first time you'd watched him play guitar, how quickly his thick fingers strummed over the strings.

“You always this needy, angel?” He pulled away to not-very-coyly ask, digging his fingers into the plaible muscle of your thighs, squeezing tauntingly.

“N-no.”

He laughed again, his breath on your skin sending a shiver down your spine. You didn't blame him for not believing you when you were clenching around nothing. His hand drifted over your ass, up just past the small of your back to push down, forcing you to arch deeper.

You didn't know how he could be so patient when it felt like your lust was eating you alive.

Glancing over your shoulder at him, the unfairly gorgeous smirk gracing his face while he looked down at you like you were the prettiest painting he'd ever seen.

“What? You want a picture or something?” You pouted, his firm hold not giving you the room to budge.

“Are you offering?” The dark little glint in his eyes dared you to say yes.

Part of you screamed that you probably shouldn't let someone who was practically a stranger take naked photos of you. But you weren't exactly thinking with your head anymore.

“I guess I am,” You breathed, unable to tear your gaze off his face.

His crooked smirk got even wider, the hint of sharp canines poking out as he went to pull something out of his pocket. You expected his phone, but it was the same marker from yesterday.

You didn't say anything, watching him the same way he'd watched you.

Suguru didn't disappoint.

Scrawling his name on your ass over the bite mark, adding a little star next to it.

“There,” He mimicked you, like the moment you'd done it to him had been stuck in his head ever since, popping the cap back on the marker and trading it in for his phone. “We're a matching set now.”

You shielded your face, the scent of bleach filling your nose when you hid it in the blankets while he snapped a photo. Really, you just didn't want him to see your blush at the idea you and him made a pair.

So you completely missed the way he raised his hand, his palm smacking against your other cheek hard enough you hoped he left a handprint.

“You like that, huh?” He dryly commented, his fingers dipping down to the slick dripping down your bare thighs, across to the aching bundle of nerves, letting his thumb swipe over it.

You were pretty sure you'd like almost anything he'd do.

“Maybe,” You hm-ed.

“So pretty for me,” He softly said, so gentle compared to the second harsh crack! of his palm hitting the same spot. “Stay still, okay?”

You were trying.

Biting down on the comforter, waiting impatiently for the next one, a broken little whine escaping when you heard his clothes rustling, something hitting the ground.

Then he was adjusting you again, positioning your hips and forcing your back into a sinful arch, calloused fingers dimpling our thighs as he opened you up like you were a Christmas present. A wet glob of spit hit your entrance, your body shuddering involuntarily at the sudden sensation.

He shoved it in with two of his fingers, slowly scissoring you open, harsh breaths forced out every time he pushed in deeper. You didn't think you were thinking.

Trying to fuck yourself back on his hand, openly moaning now, not caring how needy you were if it was for him.

“Baby,” His voice came out as a low purr, almost condescending as he tsk-ed. “Thought I told you to stay still?”

You paused, fighting every instinct to roll your hips back and grind against him.

“Sorry,” You forced the apology out begrudgingly, clenching your jaw, pretty fucking positive you were throbbing around his fingers where they stalled knuckle-deep inside you. “Can you-”

Your question was cut off when he slotted a third finger inside, the stretch burning as he ripped a lewd moan out of you.

“Can I what?” He feigned innocence, as if he hadn't just made you forget everything except for him.

“I, um, fuck,” You stammered, racking your brain for whatever the fuck you were going to ask him when his fingers filled you up, crammed in so tight you couldn't breathe.

“Can't understand you, sweetheart,” He cooed, pulling his fingers out just to hear your pathetic mewl.

“Sugu, please,” You were begging, and you both knew it. “I-”

“What's that?” He shut you up, thrusting in harder, fingertips grazing against the spongy spot in the back that made everything tense, your frustrated whine interrupted by your sharp inhale.

“Wanna cum,” You whispered, squeezing tight around his fingers. “Please, please let me, Sugu.”

“Aw,” He clicked his tongue, pulling out his slick fingers, using his index and middle to rub practiced patterns against the swollen bud of your clit, dipping his thumb teasingly back inside while his calloused fingertips worked you closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh fuck, just like that,” You whined, tears brimming on your lashes, what was left of your mascara most definitely smeared on the clean white of the blanket.

“My greedy girl,” Suguru hummed, casually rolling your clit between your fingers while you unraveled underneath him.

Crying his name into the comforter, not caring how desperately you'd started to rut back into him, warm waves of pleasure washing over you, white stars dusting your vision even when your eyes fluttered shut.

“Look at me, baby,” He sighed a little, his fingers still roughly circling over your clit while you came, acutely aware of how each stroke edged you closer to overstimulation.

Your body felt almost limp, the sore muscles in your legs and back from holding your position starting to ache as you managed to turn your head to peer back at him, blinking slowly, trying to get your brain to work.

“You still doing okay?” He checked in, assessing your fucked-out face for any signs you needed a break.

“M’ fine,” You mumbled, your attention drifting down to his bare chest, the sculpted muscles and the dark patch of hair above his thick cock, his pretty pink tip dripping for you, the vein throbbing from the rock-hard erection he was sporting. “I want you to fuck me.”

You couldn't tell if you'd meant to say that last part out loud.

Suguru's chuckle was dark, and so fucking sultry it shot straight through your core. He bent over to his crumpled jeans on the floor, pulling out his wallet to snag a condom from inside. His cream-coated fingers made quick work of tearing the package open and sliding it carefully down his girth.

You expected him to hoist you up enough to fuck you doggy style, but instead, he climbed on top of you, his chest resting on your back, pinning you down as his tip pressed against your clit, one arm slipping under your front to cup your breast.

“S-shit,” You stuttered at the unexpected contact while he readjusted, angling his tip at your soaked entrance, pressing his tip in just barely.

“You're okay.”

His lips were skimming across your ear, pressing long kisses along your throat, his teeth tauntingly nipping at the thin skin there. You were tilting your head for him, lost in his mouth when he abruptly bottomed out, your body going rigid underneath his broad frame.

“Fuck, oh fuck, Suguru-” You whimpered, squeezing pitifully around him, pretty sure he was lodged in your fucking lungs with how full you felt, no room to breathe when his cock was stuffed tight inside you and still grinding deeper.

“Mhm?” He murmured, his breath hitching, his lips pausing his trail of his kisses as he groped your breast harder, pulling out just to plunge back in. Using his weight to hold you in place to fuck as he pleased.

You were quivering, almost incoherently mumbling his name under your breath, the sound of skin-on-skin and breathing and the bed squeaking under his forceful thrusts were all too much, even if your body was still screaming for more.

“Feel so fucking good,” He praised, pinching your nipple as he smashed his tip practically against your cervix.

You whined, your knees pushing you forward just for him to yank you back, making a disapproving little sound. But you were clenching around him tighter, fist closing around the blanket at how hot it was when he manhandled you.

“If you want me to be rough with you, just ask,” He drawled, a hint of mocking to his tone.

“I-” You didn't know what you were even trying to say, fucked dumber with every stroke.

He slowed down, his steady rhythm coming to a crawl to force you to respond. To tell him what you wanted. To pretend to give you a portion of the control he currently possessed over you.

“Fuck me like you own me,” You were embarrassed to even voice it, writhing against him weakly for any ounce of friction you could find.

“Then tell me I do,” He casually said, holding a conversation like he wasn't molding you to his veins, imprinting your shape into the mattress.

“I'm yours,” Your voice broke when his kisses got hungrier, sucking a wet spot above your collarbone. He let out a soft grunt, his hand on your hip pushing you down into the bed so he could fuck you deeper.

“Try again,” He muttered.

“You own me,” You whispered.

Suguru snapped. Whatever restraint you never realized he'd been clinging to shattered, his thrusts not sloppy, but far from steady either. Shoving every last inch in, one hand groping your breast to pull you back into him while the other adjusted your hips, using you how he wanted.

The pressure building, the tension pulled taut in your stomach, already sensitive from how easily he'd played you earlier.

“C’mere, baby,” He murmured, so much of his body, all his defined muscles, the hard edges and ridges pressed against yours, like he couldn't get enough of you.

“Sugu,” You moaned his name, straining to stave your oncoming orgasm off, panting.

“Fuck,” He cursed like he was doing the same, abruptly pulling out to flip you over, your heart jumping into your throat when your back hit the mattress, forced to look up at his face.

He was beautiful.

So much that it made you almost sick. Stealing whatever sense you had left to study his swollen bottom lip barely pushed out, the way his pupils had swallowed up all the color in his eyes, his dark lashes framing them so prettily, black hair hanging loose.

You wondered if this was what love-at-first-sight felt like. Or love-at-first-fuck.

But he was pushing himself back in, and you found yourself surrendering to him and whatever these bizarre sort of feelings he stirred in you were. Slamming into your soft spot, his mouth crashing back into yours.

“Right, ah, ah, right there,” You panted between kisses, tangling your fingers in his hair, your hips arching up to meet his rough thrusts. Suguru cupped your cheeks with one hand, drawing your attention back up to his eyes.

“That's right, sweetheart, wanna see your face when you cum,” He softly said, somehow making something filthy sound sweet. Groaning when your nails scraped down his back, his sharp chin tilted up as the lump in his throat bobbed.

His free hand slipping from your hip down to your clit, massaging it slowly, knowing every feathered touch was dragging you past the precipice.

“M’ close,” You whimpered, his sharp nose brushing against yours, your body stalling.

“I know,” He chuckled, his thrusts starting to stutter, struggling to maintain his composure so he could finish at the same time as you.

His talented fingers nimbly rubbing against the overstimulated bundle of nerves just right, his cock throbbing as it practically kissed your womb, and you let go, the second orgasm hitting you like a wall, all at once, bright and hot and searing as it coursed through your body.

“God, Suguru-”

Your moan was interrupted by someone banging on the wall to the connecting room.

“Can you guys fuck any quieter?” An irritated voice yelled through, knocking hard enough to rattle the headboard.

You stifled a giggle, your hand flying up to cover your mouth, eyes glancing up glossy and wide at the man whose cock was currently still stuffing you full.

“I think we might get a noise complaint,” You whispered as he removed your hand so he could kiss you again, fingers interlocking with yours.

“I'll risk it,” He murmured against your lips.

“Yeah?” You giggled again.

“What are they gonna do?” Suguru casually said, making you really laugh, erasing any lingering disappointment as he climbed off of you.

He pulled the condom off slowly, walking over to flick on the bathroom light, where you guessed the only trash can probably was. The shower turned on, the running water cutting through the sound of the exhaust fan that automatically came on.

You started to sit up, but he was already coming back, his lips tugging down into a frown when he saw you moving.

“Let me take care of you,” He insisted, padding over to pick you up, his hands on your waist, your legs wrapping around his as he carried you to the shower. Pinning you against the glass pane door, his lips refusing to part from yours when he adjusted the handle on the temperature. “You're mine tonight, remember?”

Yeah, tonight.

Your pillow wasn't exactly soft, but it was comfortable. Warm, rising and falling with every steady breath, his palm pressed flat on your back to hold you against him, the thin comforter concealing your bare bodies. Blinking a few times, your eyes adjusting to the bright sun filtering through the cracked curtain as you tried to prop yourself up, planning to slip away without waking him. Get a ride share, call a cab, find some way back to your car or apartment.

Spare both of you the awkward morning after where he would probably smile and say he'd call you later and you'd nod and say you'd look forward to it when later would never come and you'd just have to get over it.

But when you started to sit up, he pulled you back down, wrapping both arms around you and cradling you against his chest.

“Going somewhere?” He murmured, yawning, his eyes still closed as he readjusted.

“You want me to stay?” Your words were muffled into his skin.

“Why would I want you to go?” He wryly asked, his voice still syrupy from sleep as your fingers settled back on his waist.

You could safely say you had never done this with a one night stand before either.

And it was stupid, and really, it's not like you even knew him, but when his arms were around you, he felt safe. All your defenses, the walls you'd spent so long building starting to come unglued with a few lingering touches and sweet words from him.

“You have somewhere to be?” He asked, one of his arms releasing you just for him to start stroking your hair instead.

“Well, no,” You admitted, cheek squished against his chest. “I just figured you were probably busy today. I didn't want to bother you.”

“I am,” He muttered, letting out a little sultry chuckle as his thumb rubbed over the ridge of your spine. “But I can put it on hold for you.”

For you.

You hated how much you knew those words would echo in your head for the rest of the day. And probably the week. Maybe the rest of your life if you never saw him again.

“Oh,” You mumbled, tracing over the edges of a tattoo on his side, irritated at yourself for being so curious, so enticed to even consider asking about it, the urge to poke and prod him for all the details about his life he was in no way obligated to offer.

“Guess next time I'll have to make sure you can't walk afterwards so you don't try to sneak out on me,” He teased, tracing another star on your skin with a clipped nail.

You made an involuntary little noise, and you wondered if he could feel how flushed you were, cheeks burning at his insinuation.

“Might need to splurge for the late check out time then,” You tried to laugh, come across unphased, but you sincerely doubted he was buying any of it. He spared you a chuckle though while he pulled you up higher until your nose was nestling his neck, head resting on his collarbone so he could rest his head on you.

“Consider it done.”

So what'd that make the two of you? Fuck buddies? Lovers?

He'd certainly treated you like the latter.

You'd only met twice. Shared a single night together. So you doubted you exactly qualified as a friend.

Him being so charming didn't help. How casual he was about it, the quiet confidence he carried himself with. Always saying the right thing and sounding so sincere about it. It screwed with your brain, fried the synapses before they could register if what you were feeling was a crush or just how close he always was.

You hadn't meant to doze off, but you guessed you were sleepier than you realized, lulled back into fuzzy dreams by the steady rhythm of his heart pressed against your ear. It was only when he slipped out from underneath you, pulling the blanket back up to cover your bare chest that you stirred again.

What you expected to be a drop, or maybe a puddle, was more like a typhoon, some huge wave of disappointment crashing down at you as the mattress creaked under his weight, the dull thuds of his footsteps hitting the floor with the realization that this might be it.

He must've noticed the way you stiffened under the blanket, his footsteps pausing in place.

“You want some coffee?” He yawned, offering like this was his place, his coffee machine instead of some cheap hotel one that probably barely functioned.

“Hm?” You murmured, rolling over and pulling the blanket up higher, tighter. A cocoon of protection. Against what, exactly, you weren't positive.

“I’ll just make enough for both of us,” He called out, padding over to it, fingers running through the knots in his hair from last night, detangling them with ease.

You started to sit up just to wince, all your muscles still aching. Glancing down at your sore body, the hickies he'd left after your shower together littering your breasts, proof that what you shared had been real. In the moment, at least.

Either way, you steeled your resolve, refusing to let how reluctantly you really were to go show.

“Thanks,” You mumbled softly, rubbing the corner of your eyes with the back of your free hand.

“How'd you sleep?” He asked as you slowly climbed out of bed, straining to stand when half your limbs felt like they were still dreaming.

“Like a baby,” You yawned, closing your eyes and stretching. “You?”

“Even better.”

“I didn't know it was a competition,” You laughed, walking over to where he was standing to collect last night's clothes from the floor, bending over just for him to smack your sore ass teasingly.

“I didn't break you, did I?” He teased, clearly taking pride in how slowly you were walking, how stiff your movements were.

“Sorry, guess you'll have to try harder,” You returned his flirting, shimmying your panties back up your thighs while he chuckled. The cheap coffee machine started with a hum, steady drip-drips starting as you tried to clasp your bra. He reached over, hooking it back on for you, fixing the strap over your shoulder.

“Oh?” He murmured, pressing a tender kiss against your collarbone.

Okay, that just wasn't fair for him to do.

You bent back over to pick up your dress, your ass accidentally brushing against the bulge barely contained in his boxers.

“Listen,” He started, your heart preemptively sinking. You pulled away, tugging your dress up your legs while you silently waited for him to deal the death blow or delay the execution of your one-way crush.

But he paused, waiting for you to get your dress most of the way up before he was tugging up the zipper for you.

“I'm gonna be pretty busy for the next week or two, but I'll call you later, okay?”

You were pretty sure you'd heard Sukuna use almost the exact same line a time or two, when he wanted to get a girl out of his hair without dealing with crying or bitching.

“Yeah, sure,” You swallowed hard, offering him a small smile when he poured you a cup of coffee.

Pretending that it didn't ache to catch his stare out of the corner of your eyes the entire time both of you finished getting ready. Faking a smile and making small talk about what other music you listened to, answering his questions about what sort of food you liked, your hobbies, just whatever filled the silence during the short drive back to your car.

"Photography?"

"I mean, sorta? It's been a while," You shrugged, glancing out the window. "I was never that good at it."

"Landscapes or-?" He started to ask, and you wished you could just squash the butterflies that fluttered with every additional question he asked.

"People, mostly." Sukuna actually, on and off stage, to be more precise. But it'd probably be better to just omit that and avoid whatever awkward conversation that'd surely ensue.

But by then he was pulling up to park next to your car, and you couldn't put a name to the bittersweet feeling twisting in your stomach.

You didn't hesitate getting out this time, your smile more sincere when you waved and told him you hoped he had a good day, shutting it behind you and hurrying to get in your own vehicle and start the ignition.

There wasn't a goodbye kiss.

You didn't want one when it'd just make you crave him more. If you weren't going to see him again. You pulled awayy without looking back, sliding in one of Sukuna's CDs, buckling up and twisting up the knob for the volume.

Honestly, you just wanted to go back to your own bed and sleep for what was left of the weekend.

But an uninvited guest was waiting for you when you exited the elevator at your own apartment building.

“You look like shit.”

“Good morning to you too,” You grumbled, yawning as you pushed past him to slip the keyring from your finger and unlock the front door.

“Bad night?” A stupid smug grin on his face, not even having the decency to hide what answer he was hoping for.

“The opposite, actually,” You revealed, shoving the door open and ignoring how hard he was clenching his jaw behind you, following you into your living room after he practically slammed the door shut. Fantastic night, shitty morning.

“So?”

“So what?” You hummed, tossing your bag onto the couch, shrugging his jacket off your shoulders and throwing it on top.

He huffed, on your heels.

“What happened?” Sukuna grunted, his hand grazing over your shoulder before you twisted around to actually face him.

“You should already know I don't kiss and tell,” You pushed him back a step, putting some much-needed distance between you. Years of being his dirty little secret should've made that obvious. He'd fuck you in private (or public, if bathrooms and storage closets counted), but treat you the same way he always had around everyone else. You didn't think Jin even knew, and they were twins.

But his sharp gaze had spotted the bruises staining your skin that told on you, what was leftover from the heated kisses Suguru devoted so much time to leaving there last night.

A disgusted noise left his throat, his scoff almost loud enough to have its own echo.

“How long have you been waiting out there?” You changed the subject before he could voice what he really thought of that. He knew what you were doing too, squinting at you, and you realized you could actually hear his molars grinding against each other.

“Your location is on,” He gave you a nonanswer, unwilling to admit that he drove here once he saw you were on your way back. But that must've meant he'd seen you go to the hotel last night too.

“Oh,” You nodded, scratching the back of your head, waiting for whatever crude comment was coming about what a classy guy Suguru was to take his one night stand to a hotel.

Sukuna was just staring.

“I'm gonna shower,” You mumbled, mostly just to have an excuse to escape his glower, turning your head as you walked towards the hall. “I can make us something to eat after I get out.”

The bitter coffee you managed three sips of earlier hadn't exactly killed the appetite you'd spent half the night working up.

“Did you get this out of your system?” Sukuna clicked his tongue in irritation, following you inside your bedroom.

“Get what out of my system?” You let your exasperation show, huffing at him wanting to act like a possessive boyfriend now when you'd never been his and he'd never been yours.

“Him?” It came out in a gravelly grunt, like it hurt his throat to even begrudgingly spit it out.

It was your turn to just stare at him, trying to process why he was so pissed about it and weighing what sort of reaction he'd have or what might do to yours if you told him to get his panties untwisted.

“Well?” He scoffed. “Don't tell me you're actually planning on seeing him again.”

“I dunno, maybe?” You shrugged, thinking back to his vague words, his promise of a later you couldn't tell if he actually meant. It would be easy to tell Sukuna no, but you did wanna piss him off just a little bit for being such a dick about all of it.

“Maybe?”

“It was nice. I wouldn't say no if he asked,” You sighed, deliberately vague while you reached for the door knob like putting a quarter inch of wood between you would stop the argument brewing.

“Nice?” He laughed, rolling his eyes and folding his arms across his chest. “That’s all you gotta say? If I-”

“What? You wanna know what positions he had me in?” You cut him off before he could finish, irritated with his cocky assumption.

His smirk faltered, his lips still parted but the words no longer leaving his mouth.

“It's kind of cute when you're jealous,” You tried to tease, find some semblance of friendship in the uncomfortable silence, but his expression didn't change.

“I'm not jealous,” He muttered under his breath.

“Whatever you say,” You shrugged, yawning. “While you're here, mind taking a look at my car before you go? It keeps making a weird noise.”

“I'm not a mechanic,” He grumbled, frown lines etched into his skin as his brows pulled together.

“Yeah, but you can tell me if I need to take it to one,” You sighed, opening the door.

“Fine.”

“Thanks,” You raked your fingers through your hair, still mused from sleep before rubbing the back of your neck.

He tch-ed, but he dropped the subject for once, his eyes narrowing as you disappeared behind the door, letting you pull it to a close.

A shower wouldn't fix the fact that you'd eventually have to deal with the aftermath of fucking Suguru, but talking to Sukuna right now would definitely just make it worse.

You'd barely managed to strip out of your dress and underwear, the cold air conditioning making your nipples harden as you turned around to turn the shower on.

“The fuck is this?” Sukuna's muffled voice called out through the door, the knob jiggling before he shoved it open, not giving you enough time to reply.

“Seriously, can you fucking get-” You started to turn back around to face the door and cover yourself up with the closest towel.

But he'd already seen it.

The name written in permanent marker on your ass right above the bruised bite.

There was a soft crinkle, a piece of paper you hadn't noticed him holding getting crumpled in his grip, the tendons straining over his knuckles while he stared at where the spot had been like his glare could burn the lettering off of you.

“The fuck is that?” He bluntly asked, mild irritation twisting into something more raw. But it was hard to tell what considering of the five faces he was capable of making, four of them were all just various stages of anger or apathy.

“Nothing,” You lied, shrugging as you glanced around the makeup still scattered around your bathroom counter, the almost-empty bottle of soap you'd have to replace soon.

“You let him do that?”

Letting something go wasn't exactly a skill Sukuna excelled at.

“It's just a stupid joke,” You huffed, blushing involuntarily at the memory as you readjusted your towel for more coverage. Sukuna looked maybe half a second from snatching it, forcing small exhales through his nose. “Not like it's a tattoo. It'll wash off.”

In a few days judging from how well your name had stayed on him.

Sukuna was still staring like he was about to have a stroke.

“You've never cared who I slept with before,” You pointed out, uncomfortably shuffling, the air vents humming loudly overhead.

“I don't like him.”

Yeah, as if you could've possibly missed that.

“I do,” You replied, lips pressing together in a thin line.

Even if everything was over already, and your goodbye was the final one, he'd still been nice to you. Kissed you like he meant it, fucked you like it was fate somehow for you to end up under him, washed you and held you and treated you like you were someone to him.

“Shouldn't you be, like, I don't know? Glad he wasn't an asshole?” Or relieved at least. After all his talk about not wanting to listen to you bitch about a broken heart?

He tossed the balled-up paper in his palm onto the counter, glaring at you over his shoulder when he turned to leave.

“You really think any of that's real?”

The hinges whined as the door slammed shut behind him, his question hanging in the air, demanding to have the last word even in such a stupid argument.

He was wrong.

You weren't dumb enough to think Suguru was in love with you, or that his feelings ran deeper, but why should you stop sleeping with him just because Sukuna didn't like him?

You picked up the paper, unfurling it to find a note with handwriting you didn't recognize. It took four tries for you to finally figure out who it was from - and what it was about.

Forget something?

Two words scrawled in the middle, accompanied by a crude drawing of who you guessed was supposed to be Gojo, his own version of a signature.

If Sukuna had found that in your pocket, what the hell happened to his guitar pick? Nanami had returned it after the show with another polite thank you, and you were pretty fucking positive you'd slipped it back inside for safekeeping. So what? Gojo must've stolen it when you weren't paying attention?

At least Sukuna hadn't realized what the something you forgot was. Or it probably would've been a very different sort of conversation. One that more than likely would've ended with you bent over the sink and getting spanked until his palm rubbed Suguru's name off of you.

Knowing you'd let him, that you'd spent the past few years doing what he wanted and when, made something inside you break. You'd always told yourself it was fine to fuck him, that if you were sleeping with anyone, you'd rather it be someone you trusted, someone who you knew would at least make sure you finished - even if it was just a matter of pride for him.

The smart thing to do, or at least the responsible one, would be calling it off before these bitter feelings could fester over and infect your friendship.

You threw the note in the trash can.

It couldn't be that hard to do.

Of course, you'd definitely wait until you managed to get his guitar pick back. You just didn't know which would be harder.

Forget Sukuna. Forget Suguru. 

Your favorite boy was one tiny little pink-haired, chubby-cheeked, toddler-sized wrecking ball. 

“Yuji!” You chirped, holding you arms out for him. He excitedly waddled over, cute little baby teeth grinning on display as he wrapped his stubby arms around your neck. “I missed you. Did you miss me?”

He babbled something unintelligible, his head bobbing up-and-down, some little tiger toy clutched in his fist while you picked him up and spun him. 

Sukuna made an exasperated groan, shutting the front door behind you. 

“I got you something,” You whispered in Yuji's ear, setting him back down and digging through your bag for his surprise. 

“Toy for me?” He babbled, barely enunciating enough for you to make out what he was trying to say. 

“Mhm, toy just for you,” You laughed, poking his nose as you pulled out and handed over the plastic phone you’d picked up for him a few days ago, batteries already installed courtesy of Sukuna, even if he grumbled the entire time he did it.

“Quit spoiling the brat,” He muttered, his breath on the back of your neck when you stood back up. 

“Be nice, please,” You huffed, cutting him a glare over your shoulder while he rolled his eyes. 

It was his family. You weren't his wife nagging him to visit his in-laws, even if that was how he wanted to act. He was the one who was trying to monopolize your entire weekend, dragging you with him over to his brother's house Friday night after you got off work even after you promised not to miss his show on Saturday. You doubted it was a coincidence he insisted on dinner on the same night Suguru's band had another show. 

“You guys made it,” Jin greeted calmly, stepping out of the kitchen to wave. Kaori was peeking out behind him, her hands full as she echoed his hello. The clean-cut version of the man by your side pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking down at his son. “Yuji, tell them thank you.”

“Thank you,” Yuji parroted, although it came out more like ‘tank yew’ than real words. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Sukuna muttered dismissively. 

There was another knock at the door you just came through, Sukuna mumbling something about tonight getting even worse when you smacked his arm and went to answer it. 

A different dark-haired guitarist than the one who'd been living rent-free in your mind all week was on the other side, a store-bought dessert in one hand and a gift bag in the other. 

“Cho!” Yuji squealed, hurrying over to cling to their neighbor's leg, tugging on his dark-washed jeans. 

“Hi, Choso,” You smiled brightly up at him, admiring how that was all it took for pink to dust his cheeks, his tired gaze sweeping over you then down to the toddler hanging off him like a monkey.

“Hey,” He murmured quietly, passing the present down to Yuji, who was ripping the wrapping paper out the second it was in his reach. Sukuna may have had the tiniest of points - between you and Choso, Yuji was certainly spoiled. 

“I swear, you get taller every time I see you,” You teased, pushing out your bottom lip in a pretend pout just to watch the lump in his throat bob, his face grow redder when your attention was focused entirely on him. 

“You just say that every time,” He pointed out, leaning against the open door frame while you grabbed tonight's dessert out of his arms, letting your fingers linger against his skin longer than necessary. 

“Because I get to see your cute little blush every time,” You giggled, unable to resist the temptation of flirting with such an easy target. He moved in next to the Itadoris when you were all still teenagers, quick to make friends with Jin, and eventually you (considering how often you crashed at their place) much to Sukuna's disdain. 

“Shark!” Yuji shouted, pulling out a set of sea animals that were supposed to grow in water, your gift already discarded in favor of Choso's. 

“Dinner's almost ready,” Jin called out while Kaori started setting the old wooden dinner table. Sukuna was leaning against the back of the old couch taking up half the living room, and you could feel how intently he was watching you even when you looked away. 

“Yuji, sweetie, come wash your hands,” Kaori sighed, waving him over, but the tiny terror was shaking his head no, brows furrowed at the idea of having to abandon his new toys. 

“Missed you last weekend,” Choso muttered, dragging his intense gaze off of you to return Sukuna’s irritated glance as he shut the door.

“I, uh, was just busy,” You scratched the back of your neck, the answer coming out more awkward than you anticipated. 

Sukuna laughed. 

“Yeah, real busy,” He scoffed, derision dripping from each word. 

Your head twisted around to throw him your best ‘please shut the fuck up’ look in your arsenal, but it was too late.

“You know, she went to one of your hero’s shows,” Sukuna gruffly informed him, something you couldn't decide was sarcastic or sadistic in his tone. “Even got his autograph."

Guilt pricked at you once you saw the excitement that flickered in Choso's eyes. He hadn't been playing guitar for more than a couple years, only picking it up to fill the back-up spot Jin left empty after he decided to leave the band after Kaori got pregnant with Yuji. He'd seen Suguru perform in some underground gig and looked up to him ever since, talking him up far before you'd ever heard his music or saw his face. 

You mouthed shut up to Sukuna as Yuji attempted to hide from his mom behind your legs. You almost dropped the cake at how hard he jostled into you, but Choso took it back, his burning focus glued to your face. 

“Why don't you show him?” Sukuna mocked, cocking his head to the side, all the muscles in his annoyingly sharp jaw pulled tight. 

Oh, that fucking asshole. 

Silently seething, gritting your teeth together while Choso's curiosity turned into confusion, looking between you and Sukuna to try and read between the lines. 

“Oh, did it wash off already?” Sukuna laughed again, his lips twisted up in a smirk you wanted to smack off his face. 

“What's he talking about?” Choso asked, his voice thick with irritation from the way Sukuna still hadn't grown out of picking at him. 

“She fucked Suguru Geto.”

A fork slipped out of Jin’s hand and clattered against a plate, your hands immediately going to cover Yuji's little ears two seconds too late. 

“Seriously?” You hissed at him, jutting your chin down towards the oblivious toddler clinging to your calves. “Language?”

“You did,” Sukuna shrugged, his hands slung in his pockets like he hadn't just aired out your sex life in front of his family. 

You couldn't bring yourself to look over at Choso, to see the disappointment you could feel radiating off of him. Jin and Kaori were exchanging some look you couldn't read, eyeing Sukuna before each giving you an apologetic once-over, their initial surprise not lasting long. 

Dinners at the Itadoris had a history of not ending well, courtesy of the usual suspect.

Kaori spoke up first. 

“Well, was he good?”

Somehow you made it through the meal without stabbing Sukuna with the nearest utensil.

“I don't want to drive,” He yawned, looking bored as he turned down the hall in the direction of the guest room, formally his childhood bedroom before he moved out. It still had the same bed, the same dresser you'd carved your initials inside the top drawer of, some of his and your old clothes stuffed inside over it.

“Come on,” You groaned, following him as he drank from a glass of water, ignoring your irritation.

Of course he had to wait until Choso left to announce it, so you'd have to ask Jin or Kaori for a ride or go through the uncomfortable conversation that'd follow if you called Choso and asked him to come back and go out of his way to drop you off at your own place.

“You seriously want to stay the night?” You sighed, letting the door to the bedroom close with a thud after you while he sprawled out in the bed, piling most of the pillows up on the headboard before throwing one on the other end for you.

His answer was just a grunt, not wanting to admit that he was willingly choosing to sleepover at his brother’s house. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, swiping away at it like that was an excuse not to respond to you.

You rolled your eyes, but laid down the opposite way next to him, your feet not reaching his face while his dangled past yours, his massive frame too big for the bed.

You weren't sure how long you laid out like that together, watching the slow spin of the ceiling fan as you thought about tonight and tomorrow and the state of your relationship with him.

“Hey,” You mumbled, exhaling softly while you rolled from your side to your back.

“Huh?” He grumbled, not looking up from his phone.

“You ever think about the whole marriage and kids thing?”

Sukuna was the wrong person to ask. You could guess what kind of answer you were going to receive before he even opened his mouth.

His laugh was half a scoff, and you could tell he was suppressing the urge to throw a pillow at you just for saying it.

“What do you think?” He sarcastically replied when a no would have sufficed.

“I dunno,” You sighed, staring up at the ceiling fan blades. “They seem happy.”

Happier than you, at least. The thought had started to cross your mind lately, especially after spending time with the at least semi-normal members of the Itadori family, that maybe you were on the wrong path. Although, it might've just been Yuji giving you baby fever.

“No thanks,” He came out more like a growl, from his chest. “Not for me. Or you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” You huffed at how casually he categorized you as not-marriage material.

“You'll get bored,” He wasn't even looking at you when he said it, back to staring at his screen.

“You don't know that,” You weakly defended yourself, not all that confident he was incorrect.

“Trust me, I do.”

“Whatever,” You murmured. “I'm babysitting Yuji tomorrow afternoon so your brother can take Kaori out. I'll need Yuji's car seat from your car.”

Sukuna didn't respond, just making an annoyed noise to voice his disapproval.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out to see a message from the man currently tied with your best friend for your least favorite rockstar.

Satoru Gojo: where r u? :(

You: ?

You frowned, readjusting the thin pillow under your head watching the dots pop up while you waited for his reply. It's not like Suguru had invited you.

Why would you show up and risk embarrassing yourself?

He was straightforward. If he wanted you there, he would've asked.

“What are you doing?” Sukuna grumbled, using his foot to half-nudge, half-kick your arm, almost making you drop your phone on your face.

You doubted he'd take it well if he knew who you were talking to. Honestly, you'd decided to just lie about the pick if Sukuna asked. Pretend it'd never been in that pocket and feign innocence in the face of any questions. As long as he didn't know who had the pick and the idiot that did have the pick didn't know whose it really was, you'd probably get away with it.

“Nothing,” You mumbled, swatting at his leg with your free hand when the message from Gojo finally popped up.

Satoru Gojo: not supporting your boyfriend??

Satoru Gojo: don't you need that pick back?

You: busy rn, talk later

Satoru Gojo: I'm telling Suguru on you :(

You'd love to know how that conversation would go.

Sorry, Suguru, I stole something from your one-night-stand and now she won't text me back!

Swiping away his messages just to have him shoved back in your face when Sukuna tossed his phone over to you, a photo of him and Suguru with their arms thrown across the shoulders of a couple pretty fans posted on his story.

“And why are you showing me this?” You sighed, throwing his phone back up at him. It smacked into his broad chest, his lips pressed together in a fake smile of sympathy. Who'd he think he was fooling?

It wasn't anything you didn't already know.

Just meant to make you feel worse so he could make you feel better.

And you were being petty, you knew that, but you kicked him back in retaliation, aiming for his crotch just for him to snatch your ankle.

“You want me to fuck that attitude out of you?” He chuckled, reveling in the fact he'd succeeded in getting a rise out of you.

“I'll pass,” You snidely said. His expression twisted the second it hit him you actually rejected his offer.

Sukuna grabbed your other ankle, yanking you down and spreading your legs, his hands landing on your hips when he changed positions to hover over you.

“Wanna say that again?”

When was the last time you turned him down? Before you started sleeping together, he'd sometimes tease, make comments every time you bent over, jokes that you'd laugh off. But you'd never really told him no, claimed not to be interested.

You didn't even know if you wanted to say no now.

What you should do and what you actually did rarely aligned.

“You want me to stop? Say it,” He challenged, letting his knee slide up the inside of your thigh, nudging it away from the other one. Your body knew his the same way you knew him. Reacting on instinct to the gravel in his voice, the weight of his leg, the spice in his cologne, everything preemptively tensing, your pulse picking up as his hands landed on either side of your head.

“Don't,” You muttered, glancing down at his lips to avoid his sharp eyes, studying their shape as he let out a shrewd laugh.

“Don't what?”

“Don’t stop.”

“Don't stop what?”

Jesus fucking Christ, did he have to be so infuriating?

“If you want to fuck me, just do it,” You dryly scoffed, chewing on the bottom of your own lip, frustrated with yourself as much as you were with him.

Sukuna laughed. At you or what you said or the position you'd yet again found yourself in under him.

But then he got back up like he changed his mind, like maybe he just wanted to hear you give in, and you started to scoff, leaning your head back down on the god-awful mattress and closing your eyes.

The ice clinked in his drink, followed by a soft thud of his cup landing back on the nightstand. Maybe if he wasn't such a prick all-

He shoved your shirt up past your tits, tugging them out before you even opened your eyes back up. Something cold abruptly pressed against your nipple, the bud hardening as your hand went to pull his hair. He caught your wrist mid-air, pinning it down to the mattress as his mouth roved over to your other nipple, a piece of ice carefully clenched between his teeth.

“Kuna, you fucking-”

You gasped when he rolled it over your nipple, writhing at the chill, internally weighing the risk of him holding your other hand down if you tried to pull his hair again. But he changed nipples again, his thick fingers groping at the soft tissue of whicher one he wasn't trying to turn into an icicle, and you were yanking at his scalp, tugging at the unfairly fluffy pink hair at the roots, hips arching up to grind against his cock through his jeans.

The ice was already starting to melt, cool drops of water dripping down the curves of your chest onto the plaid duvet underneath you. With a crunch, he swallowed the last of it, sucking on your nipples instead, his teeth scraping against your skin as he continued to nip and bite.

“Kuna,” You mumbled, feeling almost light-headed as you weakly attempted to pry his head off you enough for you to look at him.

“What?” He snapped, narrowing his eyes while he continued to pinch and play with your breasts, not allowing you a single moment of clarity.

Just being in the same room as him had the same effect, even without his body all over yours.

Did he do this with all his hookups?

The teasing, the tension, use the same force in every heavy touch?

“Nothin’,” You mumbled, changing your mind before you could voice one of the unpleasant thoughts that'd sunk its claws into your brain.

He scoffed, returning his focus to your nipples, keeping one hand on your wrist while the other trailed down to undo the button on your jeans, yanking the zipper down so hard you thought it might break. Hungrily sucking on the exposed skin of your tits and shoving his huge hand down your pants, probably poking a fucking hole in the lace of your panties when he cupped your entrance, one finger tracing over the slick already collected there while his thumb roughly felt for your clit.

“What’d you think Suguru would say if he saw how soaked you are for me right now?” He mocked, clicking his tongue as he teased his thumb over your clit, applying more pressure just to go back to ghosting across the skin so softly you almost couldn't feel it. Sliding two fingers in just to the first knuckle, nipping at one of the fading hickeys Suguru had left last weekend.

You didn't respond, because quite frankly, you didn't even know if Suguru would care.

It seemed, to you, at least, that Sukuna's issue stemmed from whatever competition or rivalry they shared that you wanted no part in. Had nothing to do with you, or the fact that someone else had been between your thighs, just that he'd encroached on something Sukuna felt entitled to.

“You know,” He paused, waiting until you met his stare to finish. “You’re mine.”

“God, you, you-” You stumbled over your words when he shoved his fingers in deeper to deliberately interrupt you.

“What?” He hummed, his jaw unclenching as a small whine slipped out of you.

“I'm not his,” You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose, squirming at the way his fingers had frozen inside you. “And I'm not yours either.”

“Liar. It's us,” He gruffly said, burying himself until you felt the cool metal of one of his rings pressed against your skin, biting down on the inside of your cheek before you whined at the sudden chill. “Always has been.”

You used to feel the same.

But you didn't think you had anything left of yourself to give him.

He was being rougher than usual, cruelly crooking his thick fingers against all the spots he knew you liked the most just to watch you writhe around him. Sukuna wanted you to say it back, an expectation you felt in every harsh plunge, stretching you out mostly just to make fucking you easier afterwards.

Your pleasure was just more of an afterthought, something that stroked his ego, fed his entitlement.

It wasn't that it didn't feel good, but your body was too stressed, unable to just let go of all the background noise in your brain to focus on the fingers filling you up, the knots in your stomach wound up so tight you didn't think they could snap.

So you did what you usually ended up doing with more than a few of the guys you'd hooked up with - faked it.

“Fuck, Kuna,” You gasped, sucking in a sharp breath and bucking your hips up into his hand. His thumb swept over your clit, the bundle of nerves barely responding to the rough shapes he drew.

“You tryna wake the brat?” He scoffed, dragging his thumb over the bud harder, like he wanted to make you moan louder.

“N-no,” You panted, letting out a believable enough low whimper, shutting your eyes when he rolled over it faster. “Mm, I-I’m close.”

You weren't, but it's not like he could tell the difference.

Sukuna ripped his fingers out, tugging down his zipper and pulling out his erection before you theoretically would've finished, probably intending to edge you as he pulled a condom from his pocket and ripped it open. He took his time slipping it on, free hand still pinning you down while you squirmed uselessly underneath him. Cock bouncing in the air while he roughly tore down your jeans and underwear in one go, your shirt still bunched up above your exposed breasts. He rubbed his swollen tip over your clit, running it along your entrance slowly.

You'd been here with him before.

“Please,” You pouted, making your voice sound out-of-breath as you jerked your hips up to meet the imposing length of him. “Put it in.”

You hadn't meant for him to actually bottom out in one bruising thrust, threatening to split you open when he forced his way all the way, your gasp very much real this time at the feeling he was trying to break you in like a fucking pair of new shoes he wanted to wear.

He let go of your wrist to cover your mouth, his large hand muffling the desperate whines he tore from your throat.

The bed kept squeaking, straining under his weight when he kept slamming you into the mattress, your hips arching up to meet him just for him to fuck them back down.

“God, gotta fuck you to get you to behave, huh?” His husky voice leaned down to murmur in your ear, his lips barely grazing against the edge of it when he rolled his own hips down to grind against the spot that usually left you drunk and dazed on him, but it was all still too much. “Feelin’ neglected?”

He bit down on your neck, not hard enough to leave a mark, but just enough that you were moaning into his palm and considering biting back.

Always demanding to be the one in control, fucking you like he couldn't decide where the line was drawn from hate to love. But whatever this was, it was far from indifference.

There was too much history, too many feelings buried in every touch that you couldn't convince yourself it'd ever been casual.

But maybe it was all in your head. Maybe to him, this was just how he fucked every girl stupid enough to get in bed with him. Although, they had no way to know what he was really like, not like you did.

He grunted, his cock mapping you out like it was muscle-memory, which you guessed it might've been at this point. Harsh thrusts and muffled moans, muscles and ridges you'd already memorized digging into your body like it was all his right.

This would be the last time you were this dumb, at least.

Pick or no pick, you'd tell him so after his show tomorrow. You couldn't keep this up with him anymore.

“Dah-dee, dah-dee.”

A chubby finger was poking his eye, milk breath flooding his nostril, harsh sunlight blinding him when he cracked open his eyes.

“Shhh, baby, be quiet,” Your soft giggle to his right, the mattress shifting as something warm pressed into his side, your body slotting nicely against his. “He's still sleeping.”

“Wan’ daddy,” A whiny voice huffed, a tiny fist smacking into his side and earning another laugh from you.

God, you needed to stop indulging Yuji, especially if the brat was stupid enough to call him daddy despite how obvious it was he wasn't Jin.

He was about to say it too, groaning as he started to sit up, blinking and rubbing his eyes as they adjusted to the light. But it wasn't Yuji.

Yuji-sized, sure, but the thing on top of him was most definitely a girl. Pink bed hair all puffed up, tangled from sleep, lips pushed out in a pout, and eyes that looked remarkably like yours.

“Honey, what'd I say?” You half-heartedly scolded, reaching out to tame a strand of hair sticking straight up, a telltale ring on the fourth finger of your left hand glittering when it caught the morning rays. “You woke him up.”

“Sowwy,” The toddler on his lap apologized, batting her lashes before shoving a ratty stuffed bunny in his face. “Wanna play?”

You were laughing again, the heat of your body dissipating from him when you got up, cradling the his kid in your arms as you climbed out of bed.

“Why don't you help me make breakfast, sweetheart?” You hummed softly, rubbing your own eyes with the back of your hand as you started to walk away towards the door, one of his t-shirts draped over your frame hanging down your thighs.

He tried to get up, but all his limbs weren't working right, every step infuriatingly slow when he shuffled over to you.

“Kuna?” You glanced over your shoulder, offering him a sincere smile, one he couldn't remember the last time he’d seen. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

He could feel something tighten painfully in his chest at your soft words, the tender way your attention was focused on him.

“Mm hungry,” The toddler whined, arms wrapped so tight around the fuzzy bunny she might as well have been choking the damn thing.

“Yeah, what are you hungry for?” You poked her nose, eyes crinkling, readjusting so she was resting on your hip so you could open the bedroom door.

“Hey,” Sukuna finally managed to roughly choke out.

His hand was reaching out to grab you, and his stomach twisted seeing the matching ring on his own finger before it wrapped around your arm.

“You okay? Nightmare?” The dream version of you asked, his own subconscious making fun of him.

Was this a nightmare?

The life he'd sworn he'd never want?

“No,” He hesitated to answer, your lips pursed as you searched his face for a lie.

“Whatever you say,” You reluctantly shrugged, the toddler in your arms squirming and stretching her arms out like she wanted him to hold her.

Before he could step back, the little monster threw herself at him, wigging free from your grasp to launch himself against his chest, his arms instinctively reaching out to grab her. Little hands reaching around his neck, warm breaths puffed into his collarbone as she buried her face there.

“My babies,” You cooed, a pretty little gleam in your eye while you teased him, one of your hands cupping his cheek, affectionately rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone.

The touch was alien.

He wanted to reject it. Reject all of this.

But the lovestruck look on your face, the little fingers tangled in the ends of his hair, the warmth pressed against his chest all seemed to seep through the cracks in his exterior.

Why else would he be thinking about how much he wanted to kiss you?

Rubbing your eyes with one hand, you padded over to the door out to the hall, wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants of his from high school. Holes poked in the hem, the cotton faded from its original color, but comfy, nostalgic.

Back when he was your best friend and you were his. Without all of this other stuff blurring the lines.

It'd be easy to claim fame changed him. But it hadn't.

He was still the same person you'd always known - why should you hold him following the only thing he'd ever dreamed about against him?

You could only step back.

Slowly closing the door behind you, wincing at the creak of the hinges when it clicked shut.

“Hello?” You croaked into the phone, eyes half-closed and brain mostly-asleep while you leaned against the wall.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Gojo happily chirped on the other end.

You grimaced, brows furrowing as you asked yourself how the fuck you could forget to check who was calling before answering.

“What?” You huffed, preemptively pinching the bridge of your nose to massage the inner corners of your eyes, like it'd prevent the headache from forming.

“There's been a slight change of plans today, but-”

There couldn't be a change of plans.

You reluctantly agreed to picking up the stupid guitar pick from him this afternoon in the narrow time slot you had between watching Yuji and going to Sukuna’s show. You didn't have any other time to see him, not if you were going to return it before he knew it was missing, before you could add another item on the list of things for him to get pissed at you for tonight.

“Seriously?” You struggled to keep your voice quiet, not wanting to wake up the man passed out in the room behind you or alert the rest of the house. “I'm babysitting my friend’s toddler today. However important you think your schedule is-”

“Sorry, sorry,” Gojo immediately started apologizing, stumbling over his words to backpedal. “That actually might work even better, actually, you know that playground on-”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You hissed, trying to wrap your head around what he could possibly be talking about.

“Wow, that sounded terrible,” He laughed, having at least an inkling of self-awareness. “I’m actually babysitting too.”

You didn't know who would trust him to take care of children.

“I'll send you the address, but I'll be there with them after lunch,” He casually said, your phone already buzzing tucked between your ear and your shoulder while you sighed.

“Fine, whatever,” You sighed. As irritating as it was, it'd give you more time to get ready before tonight, so it wasn't the worst thing in the world.

Through the wall, you heard the creak of the wooden floors inside the bedroom, your cue to hang up before you got caught conspiring behind enemy lines.

“I gotta go, see you, I guess,” You muttered, ending the call right as the door swung open and Sukuna stepped out. You were ready for the scowl, the glare he'd cut at you for disturbing his rest, but it wasn't there.

His eyes were dark, sure, but it was his pupils that were staring back at you, the color reduced to a thin ring around them, his face frozen in this weird expression that almost looked like panic, the way his bottom lip was barely parted and all the muscles were too taut, too tense.

“Sorry,” You apologized first, slipping your phone in your pocket before folding your arms across your chest.

“What?” The question was hoarse, thick with exhaustion when he stared down at you. He didn't offer a follow-up either, not demanding to know what you were doing or who you were talking to.

“For waking you up?” You couldn't keep looking at him when he kept watching you like that, his stare searing through you, studying you like he'd never even fucking seen you before. Looking down at the dirt stuck in the floorboards, the faint marker stains on the wall below knee level from where Yuji had colored that wouldn't come off all the way no matter how much Jin and Kaori scrubbed, glancing over your shoulder at the empty hall.

He didn't reply, just standing there unmoving.

“I’m, uh, just going to let Jin and Kaori drop me off at my place, by the way. Kaori said she'd get the carseat from her car and Jin can install it in mine, so, um, you don't have to do any of that,” You were almost rambling, talking too fast just to get through with saying it.

You’d gone back to the kitchen post-sex last night and bumped into her there making Yuji a bottle of milk before bed. Giving you the same sympathetic look you'd been receiving your whole life wherever Sukuna was involved. She offered their assistance before you even had to ask.

“No,” He grunted, his brows furrowed together. “I’ll do it.”

“It's fine, they already said they would, you don't-”

“I said I'll do it, okay?” He grimaced, finally ripping his eyes away from yours to look back in the direction of the living room, the sound of Yuji crying over something carrying through the hall.

Beads of sweat were pricking at his forehead, pink hair sticking up in odd places, a spot chewed raw on his lip as his attention shifted back to you, pinning you in your place against the wall.

“Did you have a nightmare or something?” You asked, frowning harder with each new detail you noticed.

“No,” He scoffed, his head immediately turning though, like he didn't want you to see his reaction.

You waited for him to stop being so fucking bizarre.

But he didn't, not even after you took a shower and got dressed, sitting next to you at the kitchen table like there wasn't a weird weight to his silence, the stares you picked up on out of the corner of your vision. Just picking at the pancakes Jin made for everyone, not making any rude comments when Yuji spilled his orange juice onto his plate or when he got poked in the eye trying to buckle him into his car seat after brunch.

“We're going to my place first, buddy, then I'm going to take you to the playground, okay?” You hummed, nudging Sukuna over so you could finish the job of wrangling him into the seat.

“Slide?” He asked, wide-eyed, just paying attention to the only word that mattered to him - playground.

“Uh-huh, you can slide, or swing, whatever you wanna do,” You smiled, ruffling his hair as the buckle clicked into place.

The car ride was still awkward, although you tried to occupy yourself by talking back to Yuji every time he babbled, just so you didn't have to address the man in the driver's seat.

By the time you made it back to your place, you felt like you were suffocating on the tension in the air, the drawn out way he kept glancing over at you that you couldn't begin to decipher. You were rushing to get out of the car first, walking around to get Yuji out of his seat before he started screaming or throwing a fit, cradling him against your hip right as Sukuna slammed the car door shut behind him.

“Wait,” He mumbled, huffing, a hand on your side before you could react. “I’ll get him. He's heavy as-”

You covered his mouth with your free hand.

“Language, remember?” You interrupted.

You weren't going to bring Yuji back repeating a few new fun words he picked up from his uncle on your watch.

“Sorry.”

It was muffled, okay, but he didn't bite or spit or slam his hand over yours in retaliation.

You might need to consult a fucking exorcist if he was going to keep acting like a man possessed.

Or if you wanted to be really optimistic about it, maybe it was just the universe sedating him long enough for you to sever the connection without blowing up your friendship in the process.

Still stunned, you were almost limp when he grabbed Yuji from you, taking a few steps towards your apartment building before stopping to wait for you to follow.

Running through the possibility of bodysnatchers and clones when he actually sat down in your living room to watch Yuji while you changed out of his old clothes and fixed your makeup to finish getting ready for the day. But no, when you stepped out quietly into the hall, he was scowling at Yuji, his typical frown and clenched jaw firmly in place while Yuji clambered all over him. No, it was just when he noticed you standing there that his face softened a little, just enough to be neutral.

“Took you long enough,” He grumbled, swatting at Yuji's hand when the toddler tried to yank his hair.

You tossed him your car keys, Yuji clapping when he caught them mid-air.

“Sorry,” You shrugged. “Mind looking at my tires after you put the car seat? They felt kind of slick when it rained the other-”

“Whatever,” He grunted under his breath, moving Yuji off of him when he stood up.

He'd check for you anyway.

By the time you packed snacks and juice boxes in a bag and wrangled Yuji down the elevator, Sukuna was waiting between your cars, scrolling on his phone and leaning against his driver's door.

“Thanks.”

He didn't move while you buckled Yuji in and tossed your bag in the backseat, staring at you with stoic, almost bored eyes. You didn't walk around to him, awkwardly waving.

“Guess, um, I'll see you tonight,” You forced a thin smile while you talked.

“Yeah,” It was hardly a grunt of acknowledgement.

But it clung to the corners of your mind while you took Yuji out to a quick lunch, even if the only food he ate off his plate was fries and he tried climbing underneath the table every few minutes until you finally managed to get him to sit still in your lap. Gojo had sent a few texts, reminders that he was already at the playground and asking when you'd be there. You stared at the screen, struggling to come up with a response when your brain refused to relocate any resources to anything other than the asshole invading your head even after you paid the bill and carried Yuji back out.

Leave it to Sukuna to find some new way to throw you completely off-kilter again, rearrange your thoughts so they were still circling around him even when you'd made up your mind to tell him you were done hooking up with him tonight.

Yuji made it a little easier to forget what was weighing you down with a chubby-cheeked smile, his hand in yours when you got him out of the car and he saw you arrived at your next destination.

“Slide!” He grinned, little sneakers hitting the pavement as he pulled away from you to stumble forward into the mulch.

Just to smack straight into a little girl clutching a stuffed animal to her chest.

“Yuji!” You called out, rushing over to check both of them out. Grabbing Yuji’s arm and gave him a quick lookover, uninjured, just blinking at you like he was confused why you even stopped him.

The girl was sniffling, rubbing her nose when you glanced over.

“Hi, sweetie. Are you okay?” You asked, searching her face for any bumps or bruises.

She shyly nodded, holding her stuffed animal tighter.

You looked around for a parent, anyone who might be responsible for her before she started to cry.

You just hadn't expected who you would find.

Almost didn't even recognize them.

Suguru had another little girl perched on his hip, dark eyes scanning over the playground until his eyes landed on the toddler in front of you and then to where you were squatting down next to her. Gojo was a couple steps behind him, a dark pair of shades covering his eyes, a hoodie barely concealing his stark white hair, like they were trying not to stand out.

A hint of surprise flickered across Suguru’s face before he turned to grumble something back to his friend, the muscles in his face pulling rigid before he started walking over to you.

Yuji started tugging on your sleeves, whining something you couldn't understand while they approached.

“Yours?” You tentatively asked whenever Suguru was close enough, the way the girl immediately started clinging to his leg and mumbled daddy confirming it for you before he could.

“Yeah,” He nodded, searching your face for something. Disappointment, maybe? Shock? You were surprised, sure, but it's not like it was information you were entitled to. Seeing someone naked didn't mean you knew them. “I, uh, adopted them when they were babies, their parents weren't exactly great.”

Suguru grimaced when he explained, his narrowed gaze waiting for you to react with the judgement he clearly expected.

“Yuji, can you say hi? Tell her sorry for running into her?” You nudged him, and the toddler reluctantly waved, throwing big eyes towards the playground he so desperately wanted to play on. You tried to put on your most comforting smile when the one with the stuffed animal peeked out at you. “I’m just babysitting for a friend.”

“Sowwy,” Yuji mumbled, just as Gojo finished striding over.

“Who wants to go on the big slide?” He grinned, the girl in Suguru’s arm stretching her arms out to get carried by him instead.

“Me!” Yuji smiled, running over to grab the leg of his pants, apparently possessing absolutely zero concept of stranger danger.

“You coming, Mimi?” Gojo bent over to poke the other girl’s nose, jutting his head towards the playground.

“Yeah,” She reluctantly nodded.

You threw a cautious look at Suguru, silently asking for confirmation that Yuji would be fine with him.

“He's not as bad as he seems,” Suguru nodded, giving his daughters permission to go with him. “Most of the time.”

“Very reassuring,” You held back your laugh, watching the way Yuji was already trying to drag him over to the steps.

“l won't let them leave your sight, alright?” Gojo offered with a wink directed at you. “C’mon, kids, let's leave the lovebirds to chat.”

“I'm sorry about him,” Suguru murmured once he was out of earshot, stepping closer to stand next to you. It felt kind of silly to watch the four of them make their way across the playground platform, the manchild helping the little ones up the steps to the slide.

“I, uh, didn't realize I'd be seeing you, too,” You admitted, stealing a peek at him. You probably would've picked a cuter outfit at least.

“I didn't know you'd be here either,” Suguru echoed, reaching over his shoulder to rub the back of his neck, half his dark hair swept up out of his face, a thin pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. Seeing him in a more natural setting, sunlight filtering through the trees and offering a subtle warmth to all his features, watching him with his daughters, the small smile on his soft lips achingly real, started to shift the perception of him you'd let Sukuna color.

“You didn't?” You couldn’t help the pull he had over you, your attention drawn back to him every time you tried to focus on watching Yuji go down the slide, laughing and babbling while he chased the other two back up the stairs to go again.

“I told him I’d return your pick to you myself when I found out he stole it,” He explained, his focus starting to soften, his arm brushing against yours when he moved closer again. Gojo's phone call this morning came to mind, the change of plans he mentioned and you'd interrupted before he insisted on you meeting him here instead. He wanted you to know about the girls. “But he likes to meddle.”

“I kinda guessed that,” You muttered with a light laugh, sticking your hands in your jacket and watching the subject in question pull the beanie over Yuji’s hair down to his eyes, laughing at whatever the toddler was babbling at him while his clumsy little fingers tried to fix it. The little girls were holding hands, whispering something to each other. Even though they weren't identical, you were pretty sure they were still twins. You nodded towards them before hesitantly asking your next question. “How old are they?”

“They just turned three. Mimiko’s the one with the doll,” Suguru answered, an automatic smile curling up just from talking about them while he gestured first to the one Yuji ran into. “And then there's Nanako.”

“Yuji’s two. And a half, I think,” You replied. He was tall for his age, though, the same height as the twins.

There was a pause while he studied your side profile, your arms folding across your chest when you finally turned to face him.

“What?”

“You don't mind?” He asked, and you weren't sure what he was really asking. You didn't mind that he had daughters? Or that he concealed it?

“Why would I?” You shrugged. Jin had quit the band for Yuji, at least partially because of how hard it'd be to provide privacy and shield him from all the harsher sides of life the spotlight came with. How Suguru managed to keep so much of his life under wraps under the scrutiny of their rabid fan base was more impressive than anything else.

Just having sex with him didn't mean you were owed anything more than aftercare.

Although, you did appreciate his choice of hotel a little more now that you knew he couldn't exactly bring you home to where his toddlers were sleeping.

“Kids aren't a dealbreaker for you?” He murmured, his hand grazing against your own, his thumb ghosting over your knuckle.

“A dealbreaker?” You repeated, eyebrows actually arching up in surprise this time. “No, but um, you know, I might get the wrong idea if you say it like that.”

“And what would that be?” He hm-ed, familiar amusement returning to his voice as he slipped his fingers in-between yours, and even though his hand was cold, his palm pressed against yours was nice, comforting.

“That you might actually like me.” Holding your hand like he was your boyfriend instead of someone who just wanted to warm your bed.

“Then you have the right idea,” He shrugged effortlessly.

You didn't know how to respond to his open admission.

He made everything sound easy. Running the pad of his thumb back over your knuckle, casually looking back over at Mimiko letting Yuji go down the big slide first, while Gojo waited at the bottom to catch him.

“What are you going to do about it then?” You tentatively asked, hope you hated inflating in your chest at the thought he wanted the more he made you crave.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” His voice was so soft, so serious, you had a hard time believing anyone would tell him no.

“You have something in mind already?” You hummed, biting down on the inside of your cheek so he wouldn't see the stupid smile trying to spread across your face.

“Depends. Are you free tonight?” His question was laced with a subtle sort of sensuality, but maybe it was just because it was him. The low pitch of his voice and the intensity in his stare didn't exactly make things sound innocent.

“Sorry, I have plans,” You pouted, waiting for him to react, waiting to see if he thought you were worth rescheduling.

“Next Friday then?” He didn't falter though, his fingers pressing down lightly against the back of your hand when you nodded. “There’s a little drive-in theater not too far from here, if you like movies.”

“Sure.”

You probably would've said yes to anything he suggested.

“I’ll get a babysitter for the girls,” He murmured, glancing back at where they were all still playing, although Gojo was still acting closer to their age than he was a responsible supervisor.

“Guess you're lucky I think you're even hotter as a dilf,” You attempted to crack a joke, chewing on your bottom lip when you made him chuckle, the faint lines by his eyes crinkling.

“Yeah?” He cocked his head to the side, the tension starting to release from his body at your acceptance.

“Yeah,” You nodded, shrugging the bag over your shoulder higher as you tried to subtly shift so your arms were touching, your hip bumping into his side.

The sound of someone crying snapped you out of it, looking up to see Yuji had tripped walking back over to you, scraping his hands trying to catch himself.

“Shit,” You muttered, hurrying over to comfort him, getting down on your knees to pull him into a hug with one arm while you pulled down your bag so you could rummage through it for the bandaids you usually kept in there. “You alright, Yuji?”

“Ouch,” He whined between sniffles, holding his hands out for you to inspect. They were barely even scratched, not even bleeding, but that didn't really matter to a toddler.

“I have bandaids if you need them,” Suguru offered behind you, a hand on your shoulder before he squatted down next to you.

“Could've sworn I had some in here,” You muttered, flustered as Yuji’s tears kept falling, knowing they wouldn't stop until he had something cute to cover it up and convince him it was all better.

“Here,” He insisted, producing one out of his pocket, complete with some colorful puppy characters that made Yuji's eyes light up, all the tears immediately drying when you peeled the back off.

“Thanks,” You exhaled a sigh of relief, putting it over his palm. He still grabbed onto your jeans though, rubbing the back of his eyes like he was sleepy already, ready for an afternoon nap even though it'd barely been a few minutes.

“Hey, Suguru!” Gojo called out, Mimiko in one arm and Nanako in the other, the latter yawning. “Think the girls are about done playing. I'm gonna take them back to your car.”

“Sure, thanks, I'll be there in a few,” Suguru nodded with a wave, while Gojo continued carrying them back to the parking lot.

“So, uh, next week?” You swallowed hard, hoping you didn't sound as giddy as you felt at the prospect.

“Yeah, I'll pick you up,” He smirked, and you knew he knew anyway.

“Great,” You softly said, resisting the temptation to bite your nails in front of him or let something idiotic come out of your mouth next.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” He muttered, glancing down as he dug something out of his pocket.

You were almost convinced this whole thing was a dream, or maybe a really weird hallucination when you realized it was a small jewelry box.

But then, he opened it, Sukuna’s pick sitting in the velvet inside instead of a bracelet or a necklace, and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Was that one of Gojo’s ideas too?” You grinned as he closed the lid and passed it over to you, slipping it into your bag before you could lose it again.

“How’d you know?” He wryly replied.

“Thanks,” You giggled again, a honk from the parking lot reminding you he was supposed to be leaving soon. “It was good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.” He let his eyes drift back over you one more time, like he wanted to make sure he captured the image in his brain, subtly studying your smile.

You waited for him to turn and go, but he stepped forward, one hand gently cupping your cheek.

“You know, you left before I could kiss you goodbye last time,” He murmured, sounding almost disappointed about it.

“You really wanted to kiss me?” You couldn't hide your surprise, still struggling to figure out what slot he had placed you in, where his feelings for you fell.

“Almost as much as I do right now,” He hummed back.

“Then do it,” You teased.

It was soft, pure.

A chaste kiss barely pressed on your lips, nothing that would make any of the parents or anyone glancing over bat an eye, but it felt life-changing. Like the whole world had found a new center of gravity, revolving around the thought of kissing him again, seeing him again.

You wanted it to be real more than you ever wanted anything else before.

“Ew,” Yuji whined, a little fist hitting your leg to interrupt the moment. Where did he even learn that?

“Drive home safe, okay?” He pulled away, squeezing your arm before he glanced back towards the parking lot.

“If you want me to text you, you don't have to ask me to let you know when I make it back home just for the excuse.” It was only half a joke, barely managing to sound coy when excitement was still rippling through the cool surface you were clinging to.

“I’ll be waiting then,” He chuckled, pushing a loose bang away from his face.

“Bye, Suguru,” You murmured, waving as you watched him leave.

It wasn't the same car he'd driven you in before - this one was big enough to fit the car seats in the back, a family-sized sedan, the windows tinted enough you couldn't really make out much of the inside.

You bent down to pick up Yuji properly, hoisting him up until he was sitting on your hip. If Sukuna was right about anything, it was that he was fucking heavy.

“You wanna go take a nap? Or play some more?”

“Mm’ sleepy,” Yuji yawned again, rubbing his eyes. You fixed the strap of your bag over your shoulder, readjusting as you started back to your car while Suguru’s pulled out of the parking lot onto the street.

It was only then that you noticed him.

Sukuna’s car was parked close to yours, the engine still running.

Did he follow you?

You clenched your jaw, walking towards it instead, Yuji’s head resting against your shoulder snapping up when you banged on the driver’s window.

“Roll this stupid fucking window down,” You gritted your teeth.

But he was incapable of listening, opening up the door instead, forcing you to move before it hit you. The scowl you'd been searching for all morning was there all right, disdain scrawled all over his face.

“And you told me not to curse in front of the brat?” He scoffed.

“Do you think I can't take care of him or are you just here to be an asshole?” You hissed under your breath. You felt like you were being strangled - torn somewhere between embarrassment and hurt, guilty like you'd been caught doing something you shouldn't and anger that he shouldn't even be here in the first place.

“Your location is still on, idiot,” He flicked your forehead, towering over you as he glanced around the playground’s parking lot. “You didn't answer my text. Figured the thing was giving you trouble.”

You were turning your location off after this, if he was going to keep using it like this to show up whenever you didn't expect it. Had he seen Suguru too?

Probably not, you reluctantly decided, the momentary panic starting to subside. He would've made a scene if he had, or gotten into some stupid pissing contest just to prove he possessed you first or something equally idiotic.

“We’re fine,” You grumbled, walking back around him to go to your own car.

“Hey, brat.” You were two seconds from snapping at him that he couldn't call you that either, but then Yuji's head popped up, butchering something that sounded like a yeah before you realized Sukuna was actually talking to his nephew. “Wanna get some ice cream?”

Sukuna had his tongue down some girl's throat.

It wasn't that noteworthy. It wouldn't be the first or even probably the last time he'd made out with someone in front of you. But it was the first time he kept glancing over at you while he palmed her ass.

"Ignore him," Choso glanced down at you, leaning against the wall next to where you were standing, clearly catching the glares you'd been exchanging since you showed up to their stupid gig.

"Planned on it," You shrugged, returning your attention back to your phone to reply to Suguru's texts, absorbed in the photo he sent you of Gojo passed out on a couch, drooling and decorated with pretty pink hair clips and makeup smudges you guessed were courtesy of the girls.

You returned the toddler in your life to his parents this afternoon tear-streaked and crying. Ice cream had been a bust, Yuji having a meltdown before he even finished half his cup, overtired and overwhelmed by his uncle's presence. Sukuna just made it worse by telling a two year old to shut up. Yuji ended up slamming his ridiculously hard head into your mouth trying to twist around and bury his face against you for comfort, practically busting it open - your bottom lip now bruised and cut. Which, of course, only pissed the uncle of the year off even more, calling his brother to bitch over the phone about the brat hurting you like it was him bleeding while buckling a screaming toddler in his car seat.

He wouldn't stop pestering you with questions about what you and Yuji had been up to before he'd gotten there either, talking through all the wailing when you finally managed to get the buckle to click into place despite the tiny hands desperately fighting you on it. Even when you slipped his guitar pick out of its box before he could see it in your bag, handing it over between your cars - after claiming you just found it on your bedroom floor and forgot - he hardly paid any attention to it, snatching it from your palm and asking again if you were coming to the show tonight. Glaring at you like you weren't allowed to say no.

Which, now that you were stuck at his dumb after-party, all seemed pretty fucking pointless if he just planned on spending it dry-humping a girl on his couch.

You kept waiting for them to pause or come up for air, just long enough for you to pull him aside and tell him to have fun with her because you were no longer interested in sharing him with all the other girls sleeping in his sheets.

Would it make you an asshole just to text that to him?

Probably.

But it was getting late, and your feet were aching and your mouth still hurt and more than anything, you were fucking exhausted. Of everything - but mostly him.

"When he detaches himself, could you tell him I went home?" You tore your eyes away from your phone to peer back up at Choso. He took a small sip of the same beer he'd been sipping since you first spotted him, the bottle still half-full.

"Yeah, sure," He slowly nodded, glancing back over at the couch. You didn't.

Just crept back towards the hall, sending Suguru a short message telling him you'd text him back once you got home.

You heard the pitter-patter of the rain before you stepped out, the moon glistening against the wet sidewalk when you pushed open the door to walk outside. A cold wind nipping at your nose and the wet droplets pelting your skin when you dug your key out of your bag, unfortunately unable to jog to your car in the heels you still had on.

Someone grabbed your arm before you made it two steps, and you nearly screamed.

"God, you're so jumpy," Sukuna grumbled behind you, trying to pull you back through the open door inside.

You tore your arm from his, stepping back and wobbling a little, unbalanced.

"The fuck are you doing out here?" He rolled his eyes, but you could see a hint of concern under his irritation.

"I'm leaving, have fun," You sounded snappier than you meant, your shirt and skirt getting more damp by the second standing in the rain. You started walking back towards the car, but he just followed, like he was your puppy for once instead of your owner.

"If you're jealous-"

"You think I'm jealous?" You scoffed, whirling back around at his audacity to start picking a fight with you after spending almost an hour groping a girl in front of you.

"You're leaving without saying anything," He pointed out, thunder rumbling in the distance and threatening to drown out his gravelly voice. The rain was plastering his hair to his face, the thin white t-shirt clinging to his chest quickly getting soaked through.

"And?" You had to clench your jaw before your teeth started chattering, arms folded tightly across your chest. He tried to reach out for you again, but you stepped back before he could touch you. "Was I supposed to tap on your shoulder or hers?"

Like you'd ever stoop so low for his attention.

You didn't have to tell him what you were doing or where you were going.

He wasn't your boyfriend. He never wanted to be.

"You want me to kick her out?" Sukuna offered, his brows drawn together, blinking to get the droplets out of his lashes.

"You're such a fucking prick," You shook your head, turning your back to him and clutching your keys a little tighter. Taking a shortcut across his lawn to where you parked out front in the street, your heels sinking a little into the grass as you struggled to stay ahead of him.

He did grab you this time, his unfairly long legs catching up to you too fast, his hands on your waist spinning you around.

"If you wanna fight, can we at least do it inside?" He grunted, his hands still warm despite the chill that was slicing down to your bones.

"No, I said I'm leaving, and I meant it," You argued, your fingers pressed against his chest when you pushed him away from you.

"Is this about her?"

Did he even know her name? Or would her face be forgotten tomorrow too?

"It's not," You groaned, backing up until the slick metal of your car hit your spine, shivering at the contact.

"Then what?" He was huffing, standing in the same spot you pushed him, stare burning hot enough you could almost feel the heat radiating from it.

"I just can't keep doing this with you," You finally spit out, choking on a lump in your throat, all the air in your lungs sucked out.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" It was so low it was practically a growl - gutteral.

"It was easier when we were just friends," You mumbled, trembling, not sure if it was from the cold or the conversation.

He didn't reply, the muscles in his face all pulling tight, his spine going stiff.

"I just, I don't think we should sleep together anymore," You mumbled under your breath, chewing on your lip just to wince when your teeth grazed over the broken skin there, the taste of iron and blood on your tongue.

Sukuna laughed. But it was bitter, tinged with anger and hurt, his lips curling up in cruel smirk.

"One asshole shows some interest in you and you're dumping me?" He scoffed, intent on reducing it down to something petty, something you were blowing out of proportion.

"It's not exactly dumping if we were never together," You reminded him, wiping away the damp streaks on your face, hoping it was just the rain and not tears you hadn't realized were falling.

"Is this some stupid fucking punishment because I brought someone?" He asked, taking another step closer while you turned to unlock your door, drenched down to your shoes as your shaky fingers refused to cooperate with you.

"No, and maybe if you weren't so obsessed with yourself, you'd actually listen to a word I've said and see that," You huffed through chattering teeth, finally managing to get it unlocked and climb inside, throwing your bag on the passenger seat and starting the car.

You tried to slam the door shut, but his hand caught it before you could, stepping in-between the door and the car so you couldn't close it. You flinched involuntarily, momentary panic at how fucking close he was to getting his fingers smashed in the door.

"Do you want to be together?" Sukuna grumbled, piercing through you and freezing you in place, your seatbelt pulled halfway across your chest.

You must have misheard him.

"What?"

"You want me to be your boyfriend or somethin'?" He scoffed, and your stomach dropped. Were you just a fucking joke to him?

He couldn't help making fun of you even now?

"You're an asshole," You weakly muttered, shaking your head. You felt ill. Disappointment? Embarrassment? You couldn't pin it, whatever it was, coiling tight in your gut, wrapping itself around your lungs and making every breath you sucked in hurt.

"I'm being serious." He wasn't.

You didn't think he even knew what he was offering. Or how it would play out. Because even if he'd never thought about it before, you had.

Nothing would change. Not really. He wouldn't be the type to buy you flowers or take you out on dinner dates every week. Maybe he'd stop fucking other women but he'd probably still let them flirt with him, let their hands linger on his bicep and sign their tits if they asked. At the end of the day - he'd pick his passions over you, music and money and girls more gorgeous than you readily at his disposal. That was the path he picked, maintaining his image and acting like the dickhead everyone else thought he was.

You were the idiot for ever considering he was anything more.

"Stop," You could barely get it out, hardly push the air out of your lungs to say it.

Did he know he was hurting you? Or did he just not care?

"Just come back inside," He grunted, rain pelting him now, drenched as he refused to budge between you and your car door, stray drops bouncing off of him onto your legs. His hair was plastered down onto his forehead, his shirt clinging to all his muscles, the cotton nearly see- through.

"No," You shook your head, bottom lip quivering.

His lips pressed into a tight line, locking his jaw as he leaned down, resting a forearm on the frame of your car.

"I'm not fucking around," He was grinding his teeth, glancing behind him at the closed door, the lights from inside. "Come on."

Sukuna made the mistake of assuming you'd listen, assuming you were just searching for his attention, thinking you'd follow when he called, stepping back like he really thought you'd get out of your car.

"No," You repeated, a hard lump bobbing in your throat, the invisible weight still suffocating you even after you finally spit out the two letter word you'd been thinking about for too long.

"What do you want then?" He said it as if he was willing to offer whatever answer you gave him. And sure, if it was something he could buy, he probably would've.

But you knew better than to think he'd ever change for you.

"Do you love me?" Your own voice surprised you, the words neither of you ever said to anyone, let alone each other. His face fell. Brows drawn together in a scowl, frowning at you like you said something awful.

"Why the fuck would you ask me that?" It hurt more than you'd ever confess to hear him say that.

"It was a yes or no question," You quietly said, feeling like you were the only one grieving, your friendship dying without either of you ever noticing whenever it passed. It was only now that you were the one holding the shovel and dropping the dirt on the casket that you had to deal with it. "Go have fun with your date or whoever else you wanna fuck, it's your party. I'll see you around later."

You shut the door and clicked the automatic lock before he could try to rip it back open.

Before he could realize later was a lie.

You wanted space. Time to detangle yourself from him. Sick of being something convenient for him, just another someone to use while you deluded yourself that you meant anything else to him.

He wouldn't miss you.

Had he ever?

You didn't turn to glance out the window, just pulled away after checking your mirrors to make sure you were still clear to go, trying to feel any emotion other than embarrassment when you drove away, hoping the distance would wash it off.

Still, you probably would've preferred that over when panic when fifteen minutes out you heard a huge thump underneath your car, despite the fact the road was completely clear.

You've never heard the sound of a tire blowing out before. But uh, it wasn't that hard to guess what happened judging by the loud fucking noise and the sudden change in steering, the rumble of the tire trying to roll on its rims. You barely managed to guide it to a semi-safe spot on the road, trying to keep your breathing steady before you spiraled into a panic attack at the thought you were stranded at night in the pouring rain after fighting with the one person you'd usually call for help.

Although, you probably wouldn't need help if he had actually checked the tires for you this morning like you asked.

Twisting the keys out of the ignition and unbuckling before stepping out to check the damage and confirm what you already suspected.

You had a flat.

Getting drenched by the rain again while you walked back to the trunk to check for a spare only to discover you didn't even have one.

Great.

Resigning yourself to calling a tow truck and scrolling through your contacts for whoever might be considerate enough to pick you up, you tried Choso first. He only had one drink while you were back at the party, and he was probably the closest person to you. But the phone kept ringing, and he didn't pick up on your first or second try.

Would you seriously have to swallow your stupid pride to call Sukuna? Would he even pick you up now if you did?

Surely, he would, right?

Clicking on his contact, your thumb hovered over the call button before you eventually closed your eyes and hit it. It was dumb, but the low rings seemed to stretch, last painfully long before it cut to the generic the person you've tried to reach doesn't have their voicemail set up message you'd only ever received a few times before from him.

You couldn't bring yourself to call again.

The other Itadoris were probably already out for the night, asleep in bed, crashed early after taking care of Yuji.

But the little notification popped up on your phone asking if you wanted to turn battery saver mode on, drained from how much of tonight you'd spent staring at the screen and messaging Suguru, and you realized you might have one more option.

You were blushing before you even hit the call button, shivering even when the heat creeped up your face to your cheeks, biting your nails, the anxiety starting to peak, making it hard for you to think straight.

He answered on the fourth ring, your heart fluttering when you heard the soft chuckle on the other end. "What'd I do to deserve this treat?"

"Suguru?" You swallowed hard, unable to cover up the tremor in your tone, your uneven breathing.

"Everything okay, sweetheart?" His concern cut through the fuzzy line, cut through you.

"I'm, um shit, I'm sorry, but my car kind of broke down, and I don't know who else to call or what I should do, and-"

"Slow down, first, are you okay?" His voice was reassuring, trying to steady you, putting a stop to your rambling before you could drown in it.

"I'm cold and tired and wet, but I'm fine, I guess," You muttered, glancing anxiously out the window at the empty street, the thick treeline stretching by the road. "One of my tires is fucked, though, and I don't have a spare, but I mean, even if I did, I've never actually changed one."

He laughed, and in the background, you could make out the soft click of a door shutting, the faint sound of someone talking.

"Send me your location, okay? I'll come pick you up," Suguru offered without you even asking, in the sincere sort of way that made it sound like his idea, like he wanted to do it rather than out of obligation.

"Are you sure? What about the girls?" You muttered, absentmindedly picking at the nail polish you just painted on a few hours ago.

"Gojo's crashing here, and they're already asleep, it's fine. Let me take care of my other girl, okay?" His laugh was quiet, probably trying not to wake them up.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the rearview mirror, your wrecked makeup and soaked hair and blush you could make out even in the dark, hoping he'd still want you to be his girl even when he saw what a mess you were.

"Alright, um, I'll send it, but, uh, my phone is about to die," You admitted, switching him to speaker phone so you could share your location with him, frowning while you waited a few slow seconds for it to send.

"Have you called a tow truck yet?" He hummed, his composure helping glue your own cracks back together, throwing out a life preserver for you to cling to.

"No, but I can," You started to offer before he chuckled again, the telltale clink of keys jingling making your shoulders start to relax

"Save your battery. I'll handle it," He nonchalantly said, probably shrugging his shoulders or cocking his head to the side in that cute way you sometimes caught him doing. "Be there in twenty."

How was your heart supposed to handle him?

You hardly knew him. But you couldn't convince your pulse to slow down, anxiously tapping away at the center console, looking down at your phone every minute like it'd make the seconds stop stretching out so long.

Sukuna hadn't called back - hadn't even tried texting. Probably already taking the girl upstairs to the same bedroom you'd spent too many nights sleeping in. You turned off your location sharing with him before pausing and switching off notifications from him specifically.

He wouldn't notice.

Part of you couldn't help but consider that he might've only kept you around the past couple years because he liked sleeping with you. Would he even attempt to stay friends after you stopped?

Convincing yourself it was all for the best was easier said than done, because even if you weren't his, he was still your best friend.

But you deserved better than wasting your nights fucking someone who wouldn't even kiss you.

You eyed the time on your phone, watching the empty road for anyone passing by, hating him a little extra for buying a place out of the city for 'privacy' he didn't even care about considering how many people he invited over after every show or concert. But eventually a dark car pulled in to park behind yours, nervousness eventually melting into relief once a tall figure stepped out of the driver's seat, his long black hair tied up in a loose bun.

Suguru's knuckles tapped the glass, his face partially blurred by the rain drops racing down the window when you reached over to shove your stuff back in your bag and unlock the door. Once he heard the faint little click, he was pulling it open, sheltered under a dark umbrella and waiting for you to slip underneath it with him. Offering that quiet sort of protection you never once thought you needed, but just maybe you were starting to want.

"Here," His voice was calm, holding a hand out for you to take as the rain pitter-pattered and slid off the slick top of his umbrella.

You took his hand. Let him pull you into his side, only releasing your fingers to wrap his around your waist in a reassuring side hug instead, rubbing his thumb up-and-down over the still-damp fabric of your shirt like he was trying to comfort you. Your body naturally relaxed into his, your cheek resting on his arm as he shut the door behind you, keeping you close while he walked you back over to his car.

"Bad night, baby?" He teased, your fingers skimming against his again when you snagged the umbrella so he could open the door for you just for his to squeeze yours when he took it back. It was a little funny - catching the hint of his smile out of the corner of your vision, both of you trying to find excuses to touch even now.

"You could say that," You mumbled, face still flushing when he waited for you to climb in and get comfortable before closing the door.

Heat was already radiating through the vents to keep you cozy, the windshield wipers still on as you watched him walk around through the glass. Listening to his soft sigh as he got in to the driver's seat, shaking the water off the umbrella as he closed it and carefully reached around to drop it behind his seat before snagging a thin towel you hadn't noticed back there. He let you dry yourself off with it, pulling his phone out of pocket like he was checking something.

"I'm sorry for uh, all of this," You mumbled, still shivering a little as you wiped at your skin, the wet clothes still sticking to you while you looked out the window so you didn't have to face him in your embarrassment. "All my friends are asleep or at this stupid party and tonight just really fucking sucked, so I guess I'm trying to say thank you, but-"

"You're cute when you're nervous," Suguru said it like it was a fact, stopping you before you could keep rambling again.

"I-" You started before stopping yourself this time, pouting as you anxiously folded the towel on your lap, eyes still on the treeline instead of him.

"The tow truck won't be here for another ten minutes. Wanna talk about tonight?" He offered, and you knew he'd listen.

Maybe that was why you couldn't resist babbling about it. Although, a sliver of you wondered if you were trying to sabotage this by bringing him up in any capacity, if you were trying to set the stage for Suguru to call it off before his claws sunk any deeper in your heart.

Scared of getting hurt or finding yourself falling for someone who might actually convince you he felt the same too.

"It's embarrassing," You muttered. It shouldn't be, but it was.

He was waiting for you to talk, giving you the opportunity to continue or choose not to.

"I broke things off with the guy I was, uh, sorta sleeping with before," You admitted, the warm air blowing from the vents making the windows fog, looking down at your hands while you chipped another chunk of your nail polish off. "It's not like it was ever serious or anything like that. But we actually, um, were friends since we were little kids, and I'd been trying to find a way to end everything for a while, but I guess I was worried he'd be pissed."

"Was he?" Suguru spoke carefully, cautious, a hand reaching out to rest on your thigh. You hadn't realized it was shaking.

"We got into a fight," You nodded, sucking in a harsh breath. Sukuna's face was still occupying space in your head, the slam of the door in your ears. "He, um, didn't exactly take it that well."

He didn't seem to take it at all.

But what else was new? When did Sukuna ever try to hear you?

"Are you okay?" It was easy to focus on his reassuring voice, how he softened his solemn tone for you.

"Yeah, really, I'm fine." And even though it was the second time you'd said it, you weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

"You don't have to be," He simply said, like he'd really just accept the mess you were as is. "Even if it is his loss."

"I know," You mumbled, sniffling and rubbing your nose with the back of your hand.

"I'd probably be pretty upset if I were losing you too, though," He casually said, and you couldn't tell if he was just attempting to make you feel better or if he really felt that way.

He was too good at saying all the things you wanted to hear, knowing what words would soothe the ache eating at you, kissing your worries away with soft-spoken promises.

"I'm sure you could find someone else too," You shook your head dismissively.

"I want you," He easily replied.

"You shouldn't say things like that," You warned your chest aching with how much you wanted to hear him say it again.

"I shouldn't say what I'm thinking?" He teased, the playful little mocking tone to his words begging you to turn your head and look at him.

"Not unless you're trying to make me fall for you." You hoped it'd take more than a few honeyed words and tender touches for that to happen, anyway.

"What if I am?" He was definitely poking fun at you now, but you felt your pulse pick up, your heart skip a beat at how serious he sounded.

"I think you might break my heart," You admitted, painfully aware that if he did, you really wouldn't be able to turn to Sukuna now even if he'd been right from the beginning.

"Didn't you just break someone else's?" He casually remarked, his thumb tracing up higher in a half-circle.

"Trust me," You pouted. "You shouldn't feel bad for him."

"Oh?"

"He hates you," You admitted with a breathy sigh.

"You were talking about me?" Suguru chuckled, clearly picking up on what you hadn't said.

"Maybe a little," You shrugged. "He was acting like it was a stupid competition."

"Am I winning then?" He hummed, like he didn't already know the answer.

"I mean, he didn't even make me cum last time we had sex so . . ." You scoffed, trailing off and rolling your eyes.

Suguru laughed, his fingers squeezing your thigh automatically, his dark chuckle making you smile too.

"You poor thing," He wryly commented, his hand drifting a little higher, his light teasing putting a new spin on the night.

"He didn't even notice either," You complained, your sentence punctuated by a small giggle, the weight pressing down on your heart starting to lift little by little in his presence. You turned to really look at him, his attention already entirely devoted to you.

Dark eyes that you were starting to realize you'd let swallow you whole, even if you knew he'd chew you up and spit you back out someday. Piercing through you, scanning over your features, trying to piece you together until he noticed your bottom lip.

You felt it - the sudden shift. His body going rigid, the slow bob of the lump in his throat, face frozen in an icy mask. The hand on your thigh gripping harder, knuckles straining white against the skin.

"Did he do that?" His voice was raw, breathing through his nose, just staring at the broken skin. All the air sucked out of the car, and you could feel his anger at the perceived injustice.

"This?" You reached up to put your hand over it, almost wincing when your fingertips grazed against the bruise. "No, Yuji actually headbutted me."

He exhaled, his frown dissolving a little as his fingers relaxed, letting go of some of the tension that had taken hold of him.

"Good, I didn't want to have to go to jail tonight too," He murmured, his eyes settling back on yours.

"You'd defend my honor like that?" You returned to teasing, resting your head back on the seat.

"You think I wouldn't?" He hm-ed, only looking away to readjust the heat, his attention immediately returning to you.

"It's not like I'm your girlfriend or anything," You shrugged. Flirting and fucking were one thing, but him and this felt different, and you were terrified to put your trust in anything.

"Yet," He added, your cheeks immediately flushing at his insinuation.

"Yet?" You echoed, your own voice feeling small next to his.

He looked at you like you were different, smiled like he knew some secret he was waiting for you to piece together.

But before he could answer, the tow truck pulled ahead of both of your cars, stopping just in front of yours.

"I'll talk to him," He offered, nodding in that direction.

"I'll go with you," You insisted.

He chuckled, reaching back around for the umbrella although the rain outside had already started to taper off, slowing down to a drizzle. Stepping out and walking around to your side, making sure to hold it where you wouldn't get wet again, casually greeting the guy and handling the bulk of the conversation and making arrangements to get it taken to a repair place not that far from your apartment. All you had to do was hand over your keys.

You hadn't realized you handed him all of them until you were back in the passenger seat, staring at your empty palm while the realization slowly sank in you just locked yourself out of your own apartment too.

"So, back to your place?" Suguru offered, already pulling up the directions on his phone.

"Um," You awkwardly mumbled, trying to work out where exactly you could tell him to drop you off. Sukuna had the only spare key to your apartment. Or maybe you could call Kaori and Jin to see if they'd let you crash there for the night and drive you to get your car tomorrow.

"Yeah?" He raised a brow when he glanced over, a little glint in his eye flickering at your flustered expression.

"I may have given him more than just my car key," You sheepishly confessed.

You didn't expect Suguru to laugh, didn't anticipate the easy smile spreading across his face, not irritated or annoyed in the slightest at your screw-up. He placed his phone down in the cupholder, leaning across the center console, fingertips grazing against your chin to tilt your face up, turning it just slightly so he could press a soft kiss on the side of your mouth. Carefully avoiding the bruise to tenderly plant his lips against yours.

"Guess I'll have to bring you back to mine."

"Is he breathing?"

You held your own breath, leaning over the pale face beneath you before poking his cheek, a little pool of drool leaking out on the pillow underneath his head. Gojo was, in fact, still alive, groaning a little before rolling over and burying his face in the couch while Suguru laughed behind you. A hand slid up your side, underneath the t-shirt he let you borrow, resting on the band of the too-big pajama pants that went with it.

Well, it seemed neither of you would be winning any babysitter of the year awards.

"Here," Suguru murmured, his other hand holding out a glass of water for you to take.

"Thanks," You laughed a little, taking a few sips and leaning against his firm chest. A short drive and a warm shower later, you were comfortable in his home, considering it still smelled like him, felt like him, the dark wood of the furniture and the cozy atmosphere. A few toys left out on the table, a toy kitchen set against the wall with fake food still scattered around it, but other than that, everything was surprisingly tidy for having twins around.

The Itadori house had been a wreck growing up - but that was mostly the fault of someone you refused to so much as think about.

"You must be pretty tired, baby," He dropped his voice lower, quieter, pressing a few small pecks into your hair, one of his hands brushing it away from your neck to leave little kisses over your throat. They were tender, made you want to melt into him, his warmth searing over you slowly until the cold you were used to clinging to had dissolved. You felt raw with him. But for the first time in forever, the vulnerability wasn't so scary.

"Yeah," You yawned, tilting your head back to crane your neck up to look at him.

He chuckled, taking the cup from your hands once it was mostly empty, setting it down on the coffee table before his big hands suddenly twisted you around and hoisted you up, your wrists wrapped around his neck and your legs around his waist. Carrying you out of the living room and into the hall, most of the doors branching off shut, one you passed by decorated with stickers and drawings, painted a pale shade a purple.

You liked his easy affection.

Liked how openly he touched you, how natural it felt for your body to be tangled with his. Something about the closeness, the proximity, the way his hands molded to your body, it was all exhilarating. It'd be simple to say it was just because it was new or different, but really, you were pretty sure it was just him that had that effect on you.

"I've got a guest room if you prefer-"

"Or?" You pouted, tucking your head in to fit in the crook his neck. His skin was smooth, only a few hints of his cologne still there, but you could still smell the product in his hair now that it was hanging loose, something clean and probably expensive.

"You could sleep in my bed," He offered, and you wondered if he could feel your lips curl up into a smile when they were pressed against his collarbone.

"I'd like that," You quietly replied, keeping your voice down to not risk waking the girls as his soft footfalls continued to the end.

You were already trying to picture his room before you stepped foot inside. If it'd be simple or cluttered - if he'd have photos or posters hanging on the wall and what color his sheets would be. Would they be silk? Cotton?

It was probably neat, like the rest of his place. But you wanted the details, to discover all the little pieces of him you hadn't yet.

He set you down carefully before the threshold of his room, his door already cracked open as he wrapped his hand around the knob and pushed it the rest of the way open.

"I would've picked up a bit more if I'd known you'd be here," He murmured, letting you step in first before he followed and shut the door behind you with a soft thud. You let out a soft giggle as you glanced around, his room far cleaner than your own. A sprawling bed was in the center pushed against the opposite wall to the door, all the furniture the same dark wood as its frame. He flicked on a lamp rather than the overhead light, bathing everything in soft white glow. On the closest wall, a door was open to an attached bathroom, and next to that, a packed closet. A laundry basket was peeking out, a black shirt hanging off the edge like he'd tossed it in without looking.

"If it makes you feel better, mine's a wreck right now," You mumbled, wishing you had more time to take it all in without coming across as weird. A few receipts were scattered over his dresser, a half-empty pack of cigarettes and a lighter next to where he left his keys and wallet along with your purse. You guessed he must've dropped them back off in here when he grabbed you fresh clothes earlier while you showered on the other side of the house.

"With the girls here, I don't usually ever invite anyone over like this," He shrugged.

This. You still weren't sure exactly what this was.

The impression you were probably the first girl he let in his room was less touching when you couldn't help but wonder how many must've gotten the hotel treatment too.

Your feet sank into a soft rug as you padded over to the other side of his room, where a tall bookshelf was anchored to the wall, thumbing over titles you were unfamiliar with, but there were a few family photos set up in frames at the end of the shelves, mostly him with the girls at parks and museums, but one was him with the rest of the band, clad in graduation caps and robes, grinning at the camera.

"You like to read?" He asked, lingering a couple steps behind you, letting you look through his selection. Nonfiction, classics, philosophy, a touch of everything, all in good condition.

"Yeah, when I have the time," You nodded, although it'd been a while since you actually read something that wasn't on your phone.

"Here, you might like this one," He casually offered, his chest slotting against your back as he pulled out a book before you caught the cover, walking back over to place it by your purse so you wouldn't forget it tomorrow.

"I'll take good care of it," You giggled, turning your head before he could catch your grin. You doubted he was the type to dog-ear his pages or scribble between the margins.

"You better," He teased as he returned, his thick fingers finding your waist and slipping underneath the band of your pajama pants, one of them twisting and toying with where your panties hooked over your hips.

Another excuse created for you to keep seeing him even after the date he was planning - a car to pick up, a book to finish. When all of it had happened and passed, would you just keep finding new ones? Or maybe, would a day come where you no longer needed a reason?

The rest of the wall was lined with records and posters, a small table set up with an expensive record player and speakers. But on floor, there was a mess of cables, two guitars in stands and the same brand of speakers next to them you knew Sukuna also used.

A notebook was left on top of one of them, pen holding the pages open, his familiar handwriting filling them in unfinished lines. You were about to step forward, try to catch a closer look, but he held you back and clicked his tongue.

You really wanted to see now.

"What's that?" You asked, trying to peek over your shoulder up at him with your best pair of puppy dog eyes, batting your lashes. You had an inkling of an idea.

Suguru huffed, his dark brows drawn together as his stare flickered from you to the notebook.

"Nothing." He shook his head.

He was lucky he was handsome even when he lied.

"Then can I have a peek?" You pouted, trying to slip away from his tight grip, but he just wrapped another arm around you before you could. "Please?"

He chuckled, soft and low, the sound of his laughter reverberating through your chest as his body pressed into yours more.

"Begging me, pretty?" He hummed, bending down to deliver a distracting kiss to your throat.

"Will you show me if I do?" Your small whine just made him smile against your skin, one corner of his mouth curving up.

"Temptress," He teased, a sharp edge of his canines scraping against your pulse as he sighed. "It's really nothing, just a song I've been working on."

"And I don't even get a peek?" You tried to make it obvious you were just playing too, despite the curiosity that ate at you when he was around. Laughing a little so he knew your complaint wasn't serious, resting your head back on him and relaxing into his body rather than straining to sneak away to steal the book.

The back-and-forth was fun. Something you didn't want to fuck up.

It wouldn't hurt or sting if he didn't show you. You never actually expected him too. But the conversation was just so comfortable, one where you didn't have to worry about where it'd lead or what you said - even if you were still self-conscious.

"Mm," He breathed the sound out, his lips pressing down on your collarbone before he started pulling you back to the bed, walking backwards until you reached the edge, sitting down first on the dark blue comforter and placing you in his lap. "How about you get the first listen when it's finished?"

"It's okay, you don't have to-" You were stammering, face flushing and flustered at how suggested something that felt so intimate. Personal.

Sukuna wrote a lot of his own music, sure, but you pretty much only heard it after it'd been through rounds of rehearsals or the first time he sang it on stage.

"You just have to tell me if it sucks," He chuckled again, one thigh bouncing you up a little bit as he moved his hands over your waist to twist you around to face him.

"It won't," You managed a small smile, trying to squash the butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach.

"You have a lot of faith in me," He murmured, dragging his thumb over your side under your shirt.

It was terrifying how true that was.

"Guess so," You sighed, brushing a loose strand of his bangs out his face, tucking it behind his ear as he smiled back at you. Dark eyes narrowed while he studied you, the dim lighting making it hard to spot the difference between where the color ended and his pupils started. You could get drunk on the way he looked at you, how he just stopped and stared, like you were his favorite painting or a piece of art.

"I'm glad," He spoke softly. Watched you intently. Acted as if every slow swipe of his thumb over your skin was deliberate instead of absentminded. Cataloguing you the same way you'd been bookmarking all the little facts you found about him.

"For what?" You heard yourself whisper, your breath catching in your throat when he leaned in so the tip of his nose was brushing against yours.

"You called me," He answered, fine lines etched in the creases by his eyes as they flickered down to your lips. There was still a dull ache where Yuji had headbutted you before, but you wouldn't mind making it worse if it meant he'd kiss you again. He paused though, his own pretty lips parted before he continued. "You're here."

You kissed him.

Each moment with him pulled you into new territory. Growing bolder, braver every time his lips brushed against his, hoping he wanted to explore you half as bad as you wanted to explore him.

A hand thrown over his shoulder, the other in his hair, leaning up to meet his mouth before the last syllable had even fully finished leaving it. You probably tasted like toothpaste, and it sorta stung, but he was kissing you back and you couldn't think about anything else.

His grip shifted so he could pull one of your thighs over his legs until you were straddling him properly. Trailing his huge hands over to your ass, squeezing through the pajamas and tracing a little circle over where he'd signed his name the last time you were in a bed together.

You almost moaned when his tongue slipped past your lips, your hips rolling forward on instinct so you could feel the growing bulge in his lap. Your chest was pressed against his, and you could feel how much he was itching for more.

Some invisible line tied from you to him, a connection that was more than just chemistry.

"This isn't fair," He murmured into the corner of your mouth, a low grunt falling out when you tried to move and he wouldn't let you, holding you down against him.

"I can't give you a good night kiss?" You pouted, pressing a few more against his cheek. You took his jaw in your hands, felt the way he clenched it as you tilted his face to the side to continue peppering them down to his throat.

"This is what you consider a good night kiss?" He chuckled, grabbing your wrist to hold it behind your back and return the favor. His soft lips ghosting over all the same spots on you, counting them out carefully.

"Mhm," Your small sigh turned into a yawn, your body starting to slump a little into his as you relaxed more and more into his touch.

His kisses eventually came to a pause, his focus shifting back to your tired eyes and sleepy smile, dark circles under his serious stare.

"You're beautiful."

And he said you weren't fair?

"You don't have to butter me up when I'm already in your bed," You hm-ed, attempting to tease him but really, you just couldn't think of the right words to get across how beautiful you thought he was. To capture how it felt like his fingers were wrapped around your heart and squeezing when he said stuff like that.

Especially when you could still feel his lips on your skin.

"So, um," You paused, finding it almost impossible not to let a little smirk slip when you ran your thumb over your lip. "We should probably go to sleep, right?"

He was chewing in the inside of his cheek before breathing out a sigh as he reluctantly nodded.

"Probably."

You climbed off of him, patting his firm thigh twice and rubbing your fingers over thin flannel of his own pajama pants. His eyes were on you while he stood - watching you pull back the covers and get under them while he shuffled over to shut the lamp off.

A fuzzy feeling was clinging to your chest, buzzing around and bumping off the walls, sleeping over with a guy you were starting to realize just how much you genuinely liked.

It was kind of uncomfortable to acknowledge. It hadn't snuck up on you - but you'd been doing your best to ignore it entirely when your instinct was to run away before you let someone else hurt you.

Considering you were currently carless, you guessed you wouldn't be able to sneak out of his bed tomorrow morning. You'd probably just end up running into his daughters or Gojo if you tried.

You wanted to convince yourself it was still casual. That this didn't have to mean something more than him being a good guy and potentially a better boyfriend than you'd ever had before - because he still wasn't yours yet.

Being normal felt next to impossible laying beside him.

Your brain scrambling to make sense of if you should curl up next to him, lay your head on his chest first or if you should just close your eyes and actually attempt to sleep instead of waiting for his next move.

In the end, you settled on something a little lame - turning to face him and throwing a leg over his while you readjusted the pillow under your head. He didn't say anything, but he rested a hand on your thigh.

Firm.

It was relaxing - it's sturdiness a sedative. How his fingers dimpled your skin and his palm pressed down like you were his to hold.

You hadn't meant to doze off so soon - hadn't realized you were falling asleep at all until you woke up confused.

Caught somewhere between dreams, blinking a few times while you struggled to process the unfamiliar shapes and shadows in the dark, the weight pressed against your back until your mouth conjured up the name for you.

"Sugu?" Your voice was still heavy with sleep, a soft rasp that was almost a whine as the muscled arm wrapped over your chest squeezed. Your fingers were holding onto him there, keeping him locked around you so you could be the little spoon while you slept on your side.

"Sorry," He muttered, his voice thick with something else. "Did I wake you?"

Your tired body was slow to register what he was talking about when so much of him seemed to envelop so much of you already. At least, until he readjusted, and you felt even more of him snugly pressing down on your spine.

A small noise slipped out, a tired mumble that was mostly incoherent.

He felt your pause, his face buried in the exposed crevice of your neck as if he belonged there.

"Can't sleep," He breathed, the muffled sleepy sound seeping through you. All the blankets had been kicked off but you were warm. It might have just been body heat - but you knew better when all your blood seemed to be pooling south, simmering under the surface and sitting heavy in your core when you felt his cock throb.

"Oh." It was a squeak.

You were absolutely awake now.

Sleepy, sure, but you didn't think you had a chance of slipping back into your dreams before he'd finished what he began here.

You shifted your hips, pressing your thighs together like it'd offer a fraction of the friction you actually wanted while his arm tensed, pulling tighter on instinct when you realized your ass was basically grinding against him.

"God, baby," He groaned in your ear, his silky hair falling down to brush along the nape of your neck. "You can't do that or-"

"Or what?" You dared.

He sucked in an uneven breath. How long had you been laying like this before you woke up? Him holding back and restraining himself while you were so snug by his side?

"You-"

"Does it hurt?" You interrupted, pitching your voice down to a soft tease. "Probably does, right?"

The mental image of it all pink and pretty and swollen because he wanted you so badly made your mouth water.

He grunted your name, a warning that was half a moan, his teeth scraping against your collarbone as he bit down like it'd help him hold himself back while you kept grinding back into him.

"You could just put it in," You suggested, bobbing your shoulders up in as close to a shrug as you could with his arm pulled around you so tight. "Wouldn't that be more comfortable?"

It happened faster than you expected, his grip suddenly disappearing as both hands practically ripped the pajama pants halfway down your thighs, tugging down his own just enough before he was readjusting your legs and spreading you open just enough he could press the first inch inside.

"Fuck," He hissed.

There was something irresistible about his impatience.

His heavy breathing as he struggled not to immediately shove himself all the way in, how soaked he managed to already get you making it easier for him to stretch you to his size. You bit back your own moan as he molded you to him, wincing when your teeth grazed back against the broken skin of your lip.

"Shhh, it's okay, I've got you," He soothed, and you wondered if he could feel the way you couldn't help but squeeze tighter around him at his low voice drawing the words out. His fingers splayed over your hip pulled you into him, forcing his cock in until his swollen tip was practically kissing your cervix while he pressed another soft kiss against your throat.

You braced yourself for him to pull out and push back in.

But then ten seconds passed.

And then a minute.

He hadn't moved. His breathing was controlled, his sharp nose occasionally nudging against your neck while his cock just fucking throbbed inside you. Or you throbbed against him.

You couldn't tell when your brain was starting to short-circuit. Your neglected clit was aching, your body needy, the feeling of being stuffed full and stuck like that only making every little twitch and movement he made more intense.

"Suguru," You whined, trying to shuffle back just for him to angle himself a little deeper, just enough you couldn't squirm away.

"Mm?" He answered like he was the one that had just been woken up, all tired as he yawned.

"Can you-" You were stumbling over the words, struggling not to moan or whine or be too loud when you could practically feel every last ridge and vein.

"Can I what?" He was taunting you, your idea backfiring in your face. But it was hard to mind when it still felt so fucking good.

"C-can you fuck me?" You heard yourself ask, an exhausted little whimper you knew he wouldn't say no to.

"Since you asked so nicely," He sighed, tracing his fingers over your stomach to just below your belly button, pressing down right as he slid out and finally thrusted back in.

It would be easy to fall in love with him when he fucked you like he already fell for you.

Holding you close and pinning you against him while he split you open again and again and again.

The pressure and the pace were mind-melting, unable to stop yourself from squirming each time he pressed so snugly against the soft little spongy spot he easily found again this time. He was whispering in your ear, but you couldn't think, couldn't piece together the syllables into something that made sense when his fingers were pushing down on your stomach like he could actually feel himself in there.

"I c-can't, fuck fuck fuck, Sugu, mm-" Your desperate whine was cut off by his hand over your mouth, the intense pressure building and mounting and building hotter and higher while you clawed at it.

"I know, baby," He murmured, and you'd never heard anyone make condescension sound so hot, his teasing and his touch making it so much fucking harder to hold back.

"Suguru, please, fuck, please," You moaned into his hand, although it was really just a whisper forced out between shaky breaths.

"C'mere and cum, baby, okay?" He teased, but you could hear the way his breath hitched in his throat, the hint that he was having just as hard of a time holding himself together as you were. "Can you let go for me?"

You bit down on his palm, not really even meaning to, whining as your canines sank down and you did cum, fast and hard, snapping into so many pieces you were pretty sure you'd fall apart if he wasn't holding you.

The pleasure was more of a wall than a wave, one it felt like you ran face first into, tears at your lashes and your body reeling as your thighs trembled, muscles tensed. Seeing stars as you cried his name, teeth retracting from his calloused palm as he had to let you go to pull out, hearing the sound of skin on skin as he roughly stroked his cock, cum dripping onto your ass and his palm too, probably.

He kissed your shoulder first.

A long press of his lips to you. Mumbling something about getting up to get a washrag to clean both of you up. He had to ask twice if you wanted another glass of water before you managed to shake your head no, your head falling back to the pillow as your body and brain attempted to sync back up.

You fell back asleep before he even finished cleaning you up.

Need was not a word in Sukuna's vocabulary.

He didn't need you, or anyone else for that matter. So why the fuck did he feel so horrible watching you drive away?

Sitting in the pit of his stomach, festering and feeding on guilt? Annoyance? He couldn't be disappointed. It was just a stupid fight. You'd be back.

You were just a constant. If he was the sappy kind of loser you seemed to like, he would probably say something about you grounding him, but he wasn't. Why waste words on something obvious?

Maybe bringing someone to make you jealous was a bad move, but at least he wasn't trying to hit on you at a fucking playground. It was bad enough watching you smile like an idiot at him, how annoying it was to notice the cute gleam in your eyes when he gave you some surely stupid gift and kissed you.

Suguru Geto didn't even know you. How could that asshole act like your boyfriend?

How'd he even fucking know you were there? The idea you just told him, or worse, you wanted to meet him, made Sukuna irrationally irritated.

And seriously - how could you say no when he offered to be your boyfriend?

Your relationship had never been conventional, but it hadn't mattered before. If he had a heart, it was already yours, and you'd always come back to him.

It was like a universal law, something you could deny but couldn't change. He didn't need to search for you in any crowd or wait around for you to show up (even if he always did that anyway) because you'd end up by his side again eventually.

So, okay, yeah you left him drenched in the pouring rain, and sure, he deserved it, but whatever, he'd let you have however much fucking space you wanted since you would eventually wind up back in his arms again.

It was easier being friends?

You were the one who practically ran away every time he tried to hang out with you, the only time he got to fucking spend with you these days was when you were underneath him.

"The fuck are you staring at?" He grunted, feeling the brown eyes studying his scowl and wet clothes before he even made it dripping across his own kitchen floor to grab another beer.

"A jackass," Choso shrugged.

The dark-haired guitarist might've been his bandmate, but Sukuna knew he considered himself your friend first.

"Whatever," Sukuna snarled back. "Not like it's any of your fucking business."

Choso was unphased, just blinking slowly. You probably complained to him, but even if you hadn't, he never liked Sukuna from the first day he moved in next door.

If he wasn't already in trouble with you, he might push his luck some more and throw a punch or two, but you might actually make the cold shoulder permanent if he did that.

"Not like it's my fault you're losing her," Choso said it casually, clearing missing the memo that he wasn't exactly in the mood to deal with any more bullshit as if the puddle by his feet and the clothes clinging to his skin wasn't already screaming it.

"You don't know shit," Sukuna muttered, all the bottles and jars clinking together in the side door of his fridge and he yanked it open to grab a beer from the bottom rack.

"I know she spent the entire night texting another guy while you tried to dry hump some girl to make her jealous," Choso shrugged again, and Sukuna may have really hit him anyway if the first half of his sentence hadn't smacked him in the face before he had the chance.

What the fuck were you doing texting that guy all night?

"I'm not her boyfriend," Sukuna said, trying not to wince when it made him recall exactly how you reminded him of that earlier.

"How long until he is?"

The disgusted noise ripped out of his throat was entirely involuntary and entirely embarrassing.

He twisted the cap off his beer, throwing it in the trash can just for it to rebound off the edge of the top and bounce out. Sukuna ignored it, bringing the bottle up to his lips to take a long sip.

But the burn going down wasn't soothing, and it only made everything taste more bitter than it already had.

The whole night had tilted and twisted, taken on some hazy filter that he hated. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

You were supposed to be stomping around and scowling at him, flicking him in the arm and telling him to stop drinking. He was supposed to be dragging you back to his room and stripping your skirt off to tell you sorry the only way he really knew how. His hands never failed him when his mouth often did.

But most of all, you were just supposed to want him.

"Hey, I was wondering where you went." A small hand was on his shoulder. A soft voice in his ear. Probably pleasant to someone else, but it was just grating when it wasn't the one who was supposed to be whispering it. Kissing her had felt slimy. Wrong. She didn't taste like you, didn't feel like you.

He brushed her hand off, peeling it off like a dirty rag before walking away. Footsteps followed, too heavy to be hers, an annoyingly familiar pace he wished would go away.

"You need to get your shit together, man."

Sukuna needed to not be receiving advice from Choso, of all fucking people.

"Like I said, it's not your fucking business," Sukuna snarled, not turning around. He hated the fact Choso was right. Hated you weren't here. And fuck, he hated that he hadn't said yes when you were.

"Go fuck yourself," Choso scoffed back. "You never deserved her anyway."

Like he didn't already know that?

"What? Think if you play white knight long enough she'll fuck you?" He sarcastically huffed, one hand hovering over the knob to his bedroom while they other gripped the glass beer bottle tighter as he paused in the hall, shirt still sticking uncomfortably to his chest.

"Think if you keep being an asshole, she'll fuck you?" Choso didn't skip a beat, leaning against the wall like he was bored.

His anger was quiet, coals that'd burn if you got close enough to touch.

Sukuna didn't answer.

Slammed the door behind him after he slipped inside, setting his drink down on a coaster and pulling off his wet clothes to discard into a pile in the corner. He had to walk back over to lock it before some drunk loser stumbled in looking for the bathroom.

He could just kick everyone out. All it'd take was for him to bark that the party was fucking over and they'd scramble. But then it'd probably spread some stupid rumor and now wasn't the time to deal with any shitty press. Really, he should've shut down the dumb argument with Choso too, should've bit his tongue and ignored it entirely.

Especially when they were supposed to spend the week in the studio working on songs.

He was a man of brute force. He didn't have a soft touch or gentle words that could fix or mend. He was jagged and rough, and everything he ever held seemed to break instead of bend. Before you.

Until now.

He flicked on the yellow light in the attached bathroom, but his reflection felt like a traitor.

Tattoos you'd went with him to get, holding his hand, not because he needed it, but because you said the needle of the tattoo gun made you feel queasy. He should've admitted he liked it instead of scoffing at you then.

Your smaller palm in his, your fingers pressed against the tendons on the back of his hand, squeezing every time you looked at where the needle met his skin and stained it.

Stupid. This was stupid, wallowing in his memories and staring at the mirror, forcing himself to turn back towards the shower to twist the handle and start the water.

It was just you.

Since when did you have so much control over him?

All because of a dumb dream?

The shower was scalding his skin, all the sculpted muscles and smooth skin starting to turn pink as he scrubbed himself with the soap bar until he risked rubbing himself raw.

Stepping back out to wrap himself in a patchy towel he'd never bothered replacing from the days where you used to live together, one of the few scraps from those days he had left. Most of it was at his apartment in the city since he usually stayed there anyway - but he kept a couple little items here, an ashtray he didn't even use anymore next to the bed, a pair of your panties in the top drawer of the dresser.

The party had died down outside his door - the music thumping lower, less annoying voices chattering. Sukuna changed into something dry, bending over to dig through the wet pile of clothes to find his phone. He wasn't sure why.

Some subconscious instinct to see if you had texted him. Or to salvage something.

There was one missed call.

He felt his stomach flip.

Sukuna's fingers worked faster than his brain. Typing in his passcode to call you back, wishing he had a cigarette for the first time in fucking years when the rings just droned on in his ear.

You didn't pick up.

Not the first time. Not the fifth.

His first text was simple. Call me back. But when ten minutes passed you still fucking hadn't, he was already fifteen messages deep, each one a little more unhinged than the last.

You turned your fucking location off too.

Was this a punishment?

He would've thought it was - but the fact that you called rattled him. You rarely did, only when you needed him.

He'd never actually missed one before.

He wasn't sure what the feeling seizing his chest was. What was making his pulse pick up, pounding in his head, refusing to let him catch his breath as he flipped the lock to his door and walked out, his attention flicking from face to face searching for the person that probably wanted to see him the least here.

At least it was easy to spot the one guy with pigtails.

"Hey," Sukuna called out, grabbing his shoulder to twist him around just for Choso to push him back off at the slightest touch.

"What do you want?" Choso grunted, grinding his back molars as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Have you heard from her?"

Choso was already rolling his eyes before he had the chance to finish.

"Look," Sukuna snarled. "She called me and won't pick up now. Her location isn't on, okay? What if-"

"You're actually worried?" Choso's face scrunched up in something caught between confusion and concern at the idea something might be wrong.

"Can you just fucking call her and see if she picks up?"

And even though it was his idea, he hadn't expected how fucking horrible it'd feel for you to not pick up. To find out you called Choso first and he'd missed it too.

Of all the outcomes for tonight, he'd never considered stuck in the passenger seat of his bandmate's shitty little car to see if you'd made it home and scanning the roadside to make sure you hadn't ended up in a ditch.

A headache was throbbing behind his eyes, not even drunk enough to use it as an excuse, tension and pressure building and bouncing around in his skull as he strained to see in the dark. The music was too loud - even if it was his own, the car practically vibrating with the bass.

You were probably fine.

He should probably stop thinking so goddamn much about his frustrating feelings for you and focus on making sure you were actually safe.

It was hard when he was just now realizing half the fucking songs he'd written were about you.

Gojo would not, in fact, be breathing, by the time you left.

Groggily following behind Suguru in the morning after waking up to the sound of the smoke alarm and giggling to discover Gojo attempting to switch it off in a frilly pink apron that matched the two toddlers sipping on juice at the kitchen table. He just grinned when he glanced at the two of you before smacking the button to shut off the noise, tilting his head to the side towards the flour-dusted stovetop.

"Want some waffles?"

He grabbed two plates already stacked with waffles, syrup dripping off them as he walked over to deliver them to the girls giggling between themselves. Clumsy hands struggling to properly hold the utensils as they stabbed at the food, both of them grinning when they glanced up to see Suguru.

"Are you trying to burn the kitchen down?" Suguru sighed while you stifled a yawn, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth while your attention from Gojo manning a waffle iron to the girls sleepily greeting their dad.

"Daddy," Nanako chirped, tufts of hair sticking up in odd places as she took a big bite of her waffle. "Uncle Toru made waffles!"

It came out closer to dah-ee and to-wu, muffled through her mouthful of food, but her sister just giggled and almost choked on her own bite.

"I see that," Suguru dryly replied, cutting Uncle Toru a look. "Let's eat with our mouths closed, okay? Chew first, talk later?"

"How many do you want, sweetheart?" Gojo was staring at you, head cocked to the side, hip against the counter while he held up an oversized beer stein he for some fucking reason chose to make the waffle mix in.

"Um, just one is fine," You yawned.

You had a feeling he was trying to get a rise out of Suguru by calling you that, and you suspected his teasing was working judging by how Suguru tensed by your side.

"Suguru?" Gojo hummed. "Two? Or three?"

"Let me cook," Suguru grumbled, rubbing the back of his eyes and stepping forward to take over before a phone started ringing.

It took your sleepy mind a few seconds to realize it was actually his. You hadn't even noticed he'd slipped it into his pocket from the dresser after you both woke up.

"It's the mechanic," Suguru sighed as he checked it. "I should answer."

You nodded, watching him walk back into the bedroom with the phone pressed to his ear.

The sizzle of waffle mix hitting the hot surface of the iron snapped your focus back to a grinning Gojo.

"You gonna just stand there or come sit down?" He goaded, setting the still half-full beer stein down on the counter by the previous ring of flour before walking over to the kitchen table and pulling out a seat across from the girls for you.

You guessed you should be grateful he was doing his best to act like a gentleman.

"Thanks," You mumbled, reluctantly walking over to sit. Both the toddlers were curiously staring at you, all big eyes and tilted heads, chewing their food with their mouths closed now.

Mimiko swallowed first.

"Who are you?" She blinked, her stuffed animal sitting in her lap now.

"I'm your dad's friend," You answered, figuring that was probably the least problematic response you could offer. She squinted her eyes, like she knew she remembered you from somewhere, but couldn't figure it out.

Maybe if Yuji was here too, she'd be able to place it, but not when you were bare-faced in her dad's pajamas.

"Girlfriend," Gojo corrected.

It was your turn to throw him an annoyed look.

"Wha's that mean?" Nanako quizzed.

"I'm his friend and I'm a girl," You corrected Gojo this time, smiling back at her syrup-stained face while she punctured her mostly-destroyed waffle with the fork again.

"And they like each other very much," Gojo cooed, pulling a golden waffle from the iron and dropping it onto a waiting plate on top of the fork and knife already there.

He was actually whistling walking over to set it in front of you, offering a huge shit-eating grin like this was all a part of some master plan of his.

"What are you doing?" You muttered when he was close enough, tugging at the hem of his shirt, careful to keep your tone controlled so the toddlers wouldn't think anything of it.

"Well, right now, I'm about to make another waffle, but then I'm going to shower and get ready so I go by this new bakery and pick up a cake, and this afternoon we're supposed to record and work on a new-"

"That's not what I meant," You interrupted.

But at the sound of approaching footsteps, you let go of his shirt, turning your attention to the actually appetizing breakfast. Butter and syrup were still out on the table, a couple bowls of fruits with spoons stuck in for you to scoop out and put on your plate if you wanted.

"You took for-ever," Nanako whined at Suguru's return.

He chuckled, walking over to ruffled her already messy hair.

"Sorry, sweetie," He apologized. His sharp attention swept back over the full scene - you at his kitchen table, the food on your fork and Gojo returning to the waffle iron before the next one could burn.

"Uncle Towu said she's your girlfwen," Mimiko tattled, forgetting what Suguru had said earlier and talking between chews. She dropped the fork to wag a short finger at you.

"Did he now?" Suguru chuckled.

"Mhm," They both nodded.

You couldn't help but note Suguru didn't correct them.

"Your car should be ready in a couple hours," Suguru informed you, combing his fingers through his bangs before glancing back down at his phone still in his hand. He was frowning while he tapped a few times.

"Oh," You nodded, a sharp stab of disappointment sinking deeper as you stared at the crease between his brows, heard the long sigh leaving his lips. "That was fast."

"I'm supposed to meet with a new babysitter for the girls before we're supposed to go to the studio, but-" He started to say, but you forced a smile.

"It's fine, you've already helped a lot. I can figure it out from here," You interrupted, glancing back towards his bedroom where the phone you'd forgotten to charge last night was. It was definitely dead now, but Suguru would surely let you borrow a charger. You could just get a ride share or call Kaori-

"Hello? I'm right here?" Gojo chimed in, pouting at being left out.

"Are you actually volunteering?" You blinked a few times, face scrunched together in a weak attempt to scrutinize how serious he was.

"Duh."

Suguru was glaring. Not that intensely, but you could see the irritation bubbling up, how obvious his disdain for the idea of Satoru driving you around was.

"I guess that works," You shrugged, trying to keep the smirk that so badly wanted to curl up on your face at bay as Suguru tried to keep his face neutral.

"Maybe I can reschedule-"

"Sugu," You laughed. "It's fine."

Gojo was his friend.

It was just what? A twenty minute drive? Thirty maybe? Yeah, he was an idiot. One who apparently loved to meddle with your love life. But it probably wouldn't be that bad.

"A summer wedding? Like, this summer?"

You were staring. Still wide eyed and slack jawed at the fucking rock being waved in front of your face, even after you'd both spent the past half hour gushing over it and plotting a future that seemed a lot sooner than you ever expected.

"I mean, it's not going to be big or anything, you know, just few friends, family," Kaori muttered, disdain creeping in at that last part to let you know who she was talking about without actually saying his name.

It didn't matter though.

Not when just the allusion to him made all the knots tangled up in your stomach pull tighter.

"And Jin just came back to propose?" They'd been gone on your for what? Four months already? Between performances and practices and photoshoots ever since their debut album dropped, you'd barely spoken to either brother.

For someone who was supposed to be your best friend, all you'd received from Sukuna was a handful of texts. A single wasted phone call he probably didn't remember.

"They're all back for a few days. Got home two nights ago," Kaori paused, her head tilted to the side, thin brows furrowed as she studied your confused expression. "You haven't seen them?"

By them, you guessed she meant him. And no, you hadn't.

"Um, no," You admitted, chewing on the inside of your cheek while you glanced over at the waiter carrying your check.

You hadn't thought anything of it when Kaori invited you to lunch last minute. Certainly hadn't thought you'd be leaving it with a new fault line stretching over your heart and a new host of worries about all your friends forgetting you now that they were semi-famous.

Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time in the drive from the restaurant to Sukuna's apartment for you to come up with an excuse for showing up.

Switching the key off in the ignition and checking your reflection in the mirror, touching up your lip gloss as you wondered why he hadn't bothered texting before turning to glance out the window at the landscaped trees swaying in the spring breeze and-

Sukuna.

Swept up so fast in him, your lungs constricting until no air could escape at the sight of his t-shirt stretched across his broad chest, his harsh edges softened by the sun streaming through the leaves, that it took you a few seconds to notice the girl next to him a few feet next to his car. The undeniably pretty bleached-blonde giggling at something he said, a hand tracing up his arm over a tattoo you'd been the one to go with him to get. His hand was on her waist, but you were turning the car back on, keeping your head down despite the sinking feeling he was too preoccupied to notice you anyway.

You weren't even a second thought to him. Probably not a third or fourth or even fucking tenth. Not when you didn't hear from him until the next morning. A short text saying he was back for a couple days. No invitation for you to hang out, waiting for you to initiate it. As per usual. He probably wasn't expecting the disinterested okay he received instead.

Or two more months worth of them.

You tried to convince yourself this awful ache in your chest wasn't a crush. That you couldn't have one of those on him, of all fucking people. That you weren't painfully, pathetically in love with him. He was your best friend, wasn't it natural to just miss him? Not weird to be worried and completely normal to feel shitty that everything you were scared of was seemingly coming true?

He didn't need you anymore. Would you really stop being his friend if he wasn't forced to be in your proximity?

Before the tour, you went to every local show they had, sat in every shitty dive bar in the fucking state probably, watching them play without him ever having to ask. You would've went to every concert they had if he wanted you to. Would've shelled out your own money for flights or sucked it up to make however long of a drive it required.

You guessed he didn't care.

Maybe it was immature, but you didn't exactly feel bad about avoiding him on his brief visits home while they wrapped up the last leg of the tour. Banished him from your mind entirely and threw yourself into helping Kaori wedding plan while she planned blind dates for you, exhausting a long list of mutual friends' connections and coworkers until there was one you actually sorta liked. Three dates in, and although you hadn't slept with him yet, he was handsome and more importantly, nice.

The kind of guy who was more than happy to be your wedding date, gentleman enough to pick you up two hours before the time on the invitation so you could get there early enough to help Kaori finish getting ready, opening the car door for you and kissing your cheek.

There wasn't anything more you could ask for.

You just didn't understand why every sweet gesture made your heart hurt.

Maybe it was because you'd never been the boyfriend type. You had casual sex, sure, but where you went, Sukuna usually followed, wrapping an obnoxious arm around your shoulders to keep guys away.

But he wasn't around anymore.

"Are you really going to be alright waiting?" You nervously glanced around the still mostly-empty parking lot, the afternoon sun making it's slow descent and casting long shadows across the pavement.

"Have to make a work call anyway, it's really no problem," Higuruma reassured, patting the phone in his pocket and yawning as he reached for the coffee in the cupholder. You know, with all the time you'd spent in the music scene, you never really imagined you'd end up dating a lawyer. What was next? Two kids and a white picket fence out front?

On paper, he'd be perfect. So why did the thought of being the one in a white dress at the end of aisle some day and settling down make you feel so fucking sick?

"You brought him?" Kaori giggled, eyes closed while you carefully fixed the light blush on her cheeks.

"Yeah, he's uh, in the car," You mumbled, brows furrowed in focus, trying to answer without messing up or making your hand tremble. The rest of the guests were probably about to start arriving, and he'd promised to come in and find a seat after he wrapped up the call while you finished her makeup.

"So," She paused, peeking one eye open at you and apparently hellbent on ignoring your initial request to keep still so you could work. "You fuck him yet?"

"No," You admitted, sucking in a sharp breath.

"Well, what guy won't wanna hook up with a bridesmaid?" She shrugged, closing her eyes so you could finish. Technically, you were the only bridesmaid, since Choso was supposed to be the one ushering in guests and Sukuna was the best man.

"I guess," You hummed.

Wasn't that what weddings were supposed to be good for? Lonely people getting laid?

You should sleep with Higuruma. It was what any sane, reasonable person would do. Bask in the warmth of someone else's newlywed bliss for a few hours before taking him back to your bedroom and hoping he'd fuck you dumb enough you couldn't think about how much it sucked for all your former friends to be slowly slipping away, to stop wondering if they'd just forget about you entirely some day.

"Jin said he's been asking about you," Kaori huffed, nose scrunching up even though she was the one who brought up her future brother-in-law.

"And?" You tried to sound uninterested.

"I told him not to say anything," Kaori frowned, reading in-between the lines of your face. "That asshole needs to grow up and actually talk to you if he wants to know how you're doing."

You weren't sure Sukuna could string together a how-are-you? even if someone held a gun up to his head.

He'd probably throw you some bored stare, grunt something snide before finding someone more entertaining than you to spend his night with.

But why should you care?

You had a date, you didn't need someone who never needed you in the first place. You were just another part of this place he'd outgrown. What was twenty years of friendship if he could find pieces of you in all the new people happy to say whatever he wanted to hear?

"Hey, almost everyone's here," Choso's deep voice called through the door, his knuckles tapping twice as Kaori double-checked her reflection.

"You look perfect," You murmured, fixing the straps of your own dress and glancing at your flustered expression in the mirror.

"I know."

Her smile came easily, content with her appearance as she snagged the flowers from the vanity, tugging the ribbon tied around them into place.

You went back to the door, peeking through the crack first to make sure Jin wasn't there to catch a glimpse at his bride before he was supposed to.

But you were met with the mirror image of him.

Just, uh, without the glasses and a few more tattoos.

Sukuna's appearance was worse than his absence.

Your stomach dropped through the floor, your throat going dry. He hadn't seen you yet, fixing the cuff of his suit you weren't sure how Jin convinced him to wear, glaring out towards the other door where the wedding was actually being held.

"Pretty," Choso commented, snapping you out of it, your head tilting towards him. He wasn't smiling though, his face stuck in a flustered frown, taking his assigned role extremely serious.

"Thanks, Cho," You tried to grin, your own nerves shaking you up when you felt a second set of eyes stuck to your skin. "Is it time?"

"Yeah, think so," He nodded.

Considering how many times you ran through what it'd be like before in your head, it didn't prepare you for how anxious you'd be waiting for the music to start, glancing back over your shoulder at Kaori in her wedding dress.

"Hey," Sukuna grumbled under his breath, his arm hooking over your elbow while you fixed the thin bow around your own bridesmaid bouquet.

"Hm?" You didn't look at him, kept your focus forward while the first twinkling notes of the music finally began.

"You nervous or somethin'?" He bent down to mutter in your ear, like there wasn't a handful of seconds before you were supposed to start walking. You ignored him, ignored how fast your heart was beating, how warm his body heat was, the pressure of his arm keeping you glued to his side. "Seriously? This the kind of greeting I get?"

You tugged him forward right as Choso opened the doors, stepping out onto the aisle, but the smile on your face was still sincere despite the temptation to strangle him.

Screw him.

He wasn't who you were here for.

The crowd turned to watch your entrance, far more people than the few Kaori first mentioned. Friends and coworkers and more than a couple familiar faces from concerts and crew members.

There was a flash of a photo being taken, Sukuna's muscled arm tugging you closer on instinct, his shoulders going stiff.

But then you were at the end - Sukuna pulling away first to stand by his brother while you went off to the other side and wait for Kaori's entrance.

Your eyes were on her. But you could feel the heat of someone else's stare focused on your face the entire time. Through the ceremony, the dull drone of the preacher and the long vows, while they slid rings on each other's fingers and even when Jin dipped her back to press a kiss to her lips.

What could Sukuna want to say to you after so much silence?

You didn't care to find out soon.

And the second the crowd started following the happy couple out to the reception area, filtering and dispersing out to find a table or a drink, you slipped between the bodies, searching for tonight's shield.

But the seating chart had something else in store - sandwiching you between your date and your best friend the man you definitely weren't thinking about at all.

Two drinks down, nibbling on an appetizer while Kaori and Jin finished their first dance together.

"Have I mentioned you look beautiful?" Higuruma leaned over to whisper in your ear, nose brushing against your skin.

"Twice, actually," You laughed, although a hint of nervousness betrayed you as his hand slipped over yours on the table.

The man on your other side was less subtle.

He dragged his chair closer, the legs of hit bumping into yours while he grabbed your drink and downed half in one go before setting it back down, a drop of red splashing out to stain the white tablecloth.

"Anyone with eyes can see that," Sukuna scoffed, his own glued to your face, like the idea of even sparing your date a single glance was repulsive. He stared for a long moment, letting his gaze drift down to the low-cut of your dress and the necklace dangling down before returning up to hold your attention hostage.

"Play nice or I'm kicking you out," Kaori warned, cutting her brother-in-law an annoyed look while Jin reclined in the seat next to her, his arm thrown over the back of her chair.

He shrugged like he'd let her too.

"It's fine," Higuruma simply said, his attention calmly set on Sukuna. "I get it, I mean, it's normal to be protective of your friends."

Sukuna scowled like he was considering grabbing the nearest knife and stabbing your date with it.

"He's actually just an asshole," Kaori corrected.

You half-shrugged in confirmation. His bad attitude was an acquired taste, something that was sometimes still too bitter even for you.

"I'm still here," Sukuna grunted, nose scrunched up and eyes squinting in irritation.

"I know," Kaori smiled, tilting her head in fake sincerity.

Higuruma cleared his throat, the discomfort spreading across the table seeping into the mood.

You were surprised at who changed the subject.

"Aren't you s'pposed to like, throw that?" Sukuna grumbled, reaching out like he might pluck one of the petals off the bouquet Kaori left on the table before she scoffed at him and snatched it away.

"No," She sounded offended at the suggestion. "I'm preserving them."

Jin brought his drink to his mouth to hide the smile at their bickering, concealing the laugh that almost slipped out. Higuruma, on the other hand, looked almost disappointed.

"Something wrong?" You nudged him with your elbow, leaning in to whisper.

"Nothing," He casually shrugged. "Although, I had sort of hoped I might see you catch it."

You took a note from Jin's book - swallowing the rest of your drink in two seconds like it'd cover up the blush staining your cheeks. Your tongue felt numb, your mouth dry with the excitement or embarrassment or some weird mixture of the two.

"Oh," You awkwardly mumbled.

Sukuna chuckled dryly, blinking back disbelief.

"Like you'd get married next," He laughed, his eyebrows cocked up.

What was so presumptuous about that?

Choso was kinda clueless, and he was hopeless.

It didn't even have to be Higuruma, but so what? Was it so unlikely someone might want to marry you? And you could share their feelings?

"Care to dance?" Higuruma broke the tension, readjusting the strap of your dress before holding out a hand for you to take.

"Sure," You said, although really, you just wanted some space from Sukuna, room to breathe without wondering if he was watching your every move. "I might crush your toes though."

He laughed, leading the way.

"Well, I know a good personal injury attorney if you break one," He teased.

"Should I be scared you'll sue me?" You giggled back as he pulled you in closer.

Hands on your waist, your wrists crossed behind his head to some sappy slow song. He was humming softly along under his breath, timing his steps to make sure he didn't step on your feet, even if you accidentally stepped on his a few times.

And it was great, really, just as much as he was, but you couldn't help the hope for a certain someone to cut in.

"Who the fuck is that asshole?"

"Jealous?" Kaori hummed, interlacing her fingers with his brother before throwing an entirely unsympathetic glance over to him.

It was laughable.

What the fuck did Sukuna have to be jealous over?

He'd seen you entertain guys like that before - tilt your head and bat your lashes and let their hands trace over your hips. But you chewed them up and spit them out.

And when it looked like you might not?

Well, they were all easy enough to scare off.

It's not like any guy was worth your attention if all it took was a threat or two for him to disappear from your side.

"Yeah, right," Sukuna rolled his eyes, polishing off his own drink before feeling for the small box in his pocket. He needed a cigarette. The heat clouding his senses, burning in his chest and boiling his blood hadn't taken the edge off. "Not like any of us will ever see him again, anyway."

"I dunno," Kaori drawled, taking great joy at rubbing whatever this was in. "They've been on a few dates already. Four maybe? Five? I think-"

Sukuna stopped listening.

She had to be wrong.

Sleeping together was one thing, but seriously seeing this guy?

His stare locked onto him, how his dark eyes drifted over the pretty swell of your cleavage spilling out of your dress up to your eyes, returning to your lips like he wanted to know how you tasted.

"He's a lawyer too," Kaori added.

You? Dating a fucking lawyer?

He watched him tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, watching him whisper something that made you laugh.

A shitty end to a shittier month.

The last string of shows had been brutal - waking up only a few hours after falling asleep, struggling to work on new songs in his limited spare time just to be hit with the worst writer's block of his life while listening to Jin on the phone during photoshoots and breaks planning this absurd party, dragged from place to place to be seen and build an image of someone he hardly recognized.

Just for it to seem pointless when all it took was a single from some new band to dethrone their spot on the charts.

Their front man was a fucking nepo baby - a blue-eyed playboy who used his family's connections to land them a label and recording studio time. They were okay, sure, but where was the work?

None of them probably ever barely made enough to cover rent or went to sleep starving, never stared up at a cracked ceiling wondering when everything would crash down. Freely given the same stuff Sukuna had to claw and scratch and fight for.

He'd ran into two of them once, when they showed up to a concert and ended up backstage since they knew some of the other crew members. It hadn't, uh, exactly ended well.

The label covered it up before it could leak to the press, but there were still a few photos floating around of his bruised cheek and scraped knuckles.

You would've understand.

But you'd been drifting apart, pulling away. It was half his fault. Pushing forward too far that he hadn't realized you weren't following him until he turned around.

His feet moved first, the legs of the chair screeching against the floor as he stood and walked over to where you were. Looking down at the guy with his fingers too fucking close to your ass for comfort, grunting to announce his presence like either of you could've missed him.

"It's been two songs," He interrupted.

"And?" You asked, but he could see the glimmer in your eyes, the secret slice of you that liked it when he saved you like this.

"My turn," Sukuna insisted, not particularly caring what expression your date was wearing when he couldn't take his eyes off the funny furrow of your brows as you attempted to convince yourself to tell him no.

"Is that okay?" You turned to ask whatever his name was, your eyes pretty and wide like any man would argue with you when you were looking at him like that.

It still irked him to hear you ask for another man's permission.

"Sure," Tonight's loser swallowed hard, stepping back and letting Sukuna's hands slip in place on your waist. Digging his fingers in to hold you properly, aware he was a shitty dancer who hadn't fully thought this through.

"You don't dance," You reminded him the second your date returned to the table, pouting up at him.

"Whatever," He dismissed. "Not like you were going to talk to me any other way."

"Since when do you want to talk to me?"

He stared at you, trying to figure out what the hell that was supposed to mean.

"I've barely seen you in months," He grumbled. It's not like that was his fault - you hadn't showed up even when Kaori did. You knew you'd always have a ticket, that he'd pay for a fucking flight or gas or whatever to come. But you didn't.

"Yeah, I know," You sarcastically replied, looking down at his feet, doing your best not to step on them.

He wouldn't mind if you broke a toe or two.

It'd probably be funny to see you flustered over it, to hold it over your head and tease you until you were tempted to try and break another one.

Sukuna wasn't sure why he did it, but he found himself fixing a stray hair the same way he'd just seen, not even positive what kind of reaction he was hoping for.

You blinked. Stopped moving. Breathing. Glancing back up at him with a strange stare, before suddenly stomping on his foot and pulling away.

He didn't fucking understand you.

You had thought Sukuna would be the one to ruin your night.

But, no, apparently external forces were also conspiring against you.

"Hey, I'm so sorry, seriously, but I think I have to go in for this," Higuruma apologized for the hundredth time, exchanging sorry looks between your folded arms and the phone in his hands.

"It's fine, no worries," You nodded.

Maybe you just weren't meant to sleep with him.

Honestly, he was so nice, you were starting to feel bad for not feeling more genuinely interested in him, for not being able to shove Sukuna completely out of your mind the entire time you were together.

"I'll call you."

You kinda hoped he wouldn't.

Just so you wouldn't have to be the bad guy, wouldn't have to be break his heart or settle for someone your heart had no room for.

You watched him climb back into his car, feeling where his lips had been at the goodbye peck he'd left on your cheek. Assured him you could get another ride, planning on catching one with Choso or driving him and Sukuna home yourself, since you were probably the most sober out of the three of you.

The breeze was nice, feeling the wind on your skin as the sun set while you hung outside on the steps.

"Thank fucking God."

You glanced back to see Sukuna two steps above you, a puff of smoke blowing out while he took a long drag.

He held out the cigarette, waiting for you to take it, but you just huffed, shaking your head. Sukuna shrugged, crushing it under his shoe instead.

"I'm going back inside," You murmured, but when you turned to walk back, he caught your arm, his calloused fingertips firmly locking on and refusing to let go.

"Wait," He frowned, pulling you in until you could smell the spice in his cologne, the faint scent of some stupid strawberry shampoo you'd bought him before he went on tour.

"What?"

"What are you doing with a guy like that?" He huffed. He was standing too close. His chest brushing against yours, his face barely a few inches away when his sharp chin was tilted down to stare at you.

"Like what?" You practically spat it out.

Why couldn't you like someone decent for once? Someone who wouldn't fuck off and forget about you the second you weren't standing next to him?

"You know what," He gritted his teeth. But he didn't glance away. Burning through you with that searing sort of look like he could see through your skin and read what was on your mind. "Think he's gonna actually fuck you right?"

And Sukuna was so much better because he didn't want to fuck you?

"Since when have you cared about my sex life?" You glared at him, pulling your arm free. You didn't move though, just meeting the intensity in his eyes.

"Don't tell me you actually want to have sex with him," He was practically pouting.

"Why does it matter?" You challenged, your frustration flooding out when he added the last drop of anger, leaking through until all that was left was blunt bitterness. "You fuck your fans all the time."

"I sometimes sleep with strangers I know I'll never see again," He said it like it was nothing. Just a simple fact. And the difference wasn't so big in his definition of casual sex and yours, but it felt like a chasm you couldn't cross.

"God, you are such a fucking prick, you know that?" You shook your head, wondering why his proximity still made your chest hot, why you couldn't tear your eyes away from his face no matter how hard you tried.

"And you're still here," He reminded you. What did that say about you? Other than you were stupid for tolerating half his bullshit?

"I hope you're getting tested, asshole," You snarled under your breath.

"I'm clean," He huffed, like he was offended at the assumption he wasn't. "Did you ask him that before-"

"Fuck off, we haven't even had sex yet," You heard yourself argue back, lips pushed together in an irritated grimace.

"That right?" His annoyance switched to amusement, his mouth curling up.

"How and when I get laid isn't really your business," You informed him, despising the desire stirring in your stomach when he leaned down so his nose nearly brushed against yours.

"But I know you," He muttered, his voice dropping to a low rumble that made his simple sentence sound like a promise. "And I could satisfy you more than he ever could."

"Sorry?" You sarcastically laughed. "I don't think you know me half as well as you think you do."

You hadn't realized you stepped closer until his hand was on your hip instead, naturally slung there like it was where it was supposed to rest, your breath catching in your throat when he swallowed the lump in his.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," You whispered, unable to help the way your gaze flicked down to his lips. A warm palm pressed against your cheek, tilting your face up so his mouth could find yours - if only to prove you wrong.

For someone so sharp, someone so rough, his kiss was soft. Hungry and demanding, maybe, sucking on your bottom lip before his tongue slipped over your teeth, but he was almost tender when it came to tasting you, as if he wanted to savor it.

You could almost forget that it was him.

Or that you had shown up tonight with someone else just to end up in a coatroom with the best man who also happened to be your best friend.

"Fuck," Sukuna groaned, his nose ghosting over the tendons in your neck as he sucked and kissed and nipped at the thin layer of skin there, picking you up and pinning you against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist.

"Shut up," You mumbled back, barely suppressing your own whine when one of his hands fumbled to roll the hem of your bridesmaid dress up until it was bunching by your hips.

"You first," His voice was muffled as his teeth sank down just enough you knew it'd probably leave little indents of each point and ridge, a sharp gasp escaping at the contact.

Your hips were moving on their own, rolling up against the thick outline his zipper was hardly containing, pulling a gravelly grunt out of him. The tiny thong you'd worn in the hopes your date would be discarding it was tantalizingly thin, the friction the fabric added dizzying your brain.

"Bet you can't even make me cum," You breathlessly scoffed, desperate for another front, another excuse to shield you from the reality of the situation.

Like this wouldn't be taking a hacksaw to the thin tendrils holding your friendship together.

He chuckled, his kisses crossing over your jaw until they reached the corner of your mouth, his breath warm on your cheek.

"Brat."

"Fuck y-" His lips cut you off, stealing your breath and swallowing your needy moan when you could feel the full size of his swollen cock against your cunt, a small damp patch already coating your panties.

"Planned on it," He hummed, a smug smirk curling up on his lips at the way yours stay parted for him, probably kiss-bruised and burning for him to devour you however many ways he wanted to.

You wouldn't tell him that last bit though.

Your next sarcastic remark died before it could even breach your lips, his hand slipping between the barely-there space between your bodies to yank down his zipper and pull down his pants enough to free his cock.

And fuck, maybe you'd touched yourself once (or twice, or um, a few more times) to the thought of what it might look like, how it'd feel for him to fuck and fill you up, but it was just as intimidating as the rest of him.

Thick and pink, a pretty curve and pulsing veins that begged you to let him bottom out inside you until you simply couldn't fit anymore.

"Stop staring," He taunted, and you flushed, dragging your attention back to the racks of coats next to you, hoping it was enough to hide your presence in the back of the closet in case anyone decided to come in. "Acting all shy doesn't suit you, baby."

You shivered, your brain and your heart stuttering at him calling you baby of all things.

"I hate you so much."

You hated that you didn't so much more.

"Liar."

And that he fucking knew it too.

He shoved your thong to the side, the flimsy fabric tearing under his fingers, his leaking cock dripping against your skin while he laughed and pocketed the scraps of your underwear.

"Those were expensive," You complained, but it was empty, your stare still stuck on the way his swollen tip grazed over your entrance, slowly edging over it but not dipping in. You dug your heels into his back to help hold yourself up, one hand tangled into his hair, threatening to rip out a tuft if he dared to drop you.

"Want me to buy you a new pair?" He teased, like he just had to remind you again of how different it was now than the days where you were both scraping by and struggling to make rent for your shared apartment.

You opened your mouth to decline, to make a point out of not needing him to buy you anything (despite the tiny thrill the idea of walking around wearing a reminder of this brought) but his tip caught your entrance, and he pushed the first couple inches in, slow at first, intently watching your words melt into a weak whimper at the sudden pressure.

"Well?" He waited, refusing to budge until you gave him an answer. You sucked in a sharp breath, hips aching as your thighs squeezed around his muscled body, your lungs constricting.

"Fine," You forced it out, blinking too fast, lashes fluttering, unable to focus on just one of his features. The skin split over his bottom lip from where you'd accidently nipped him too hard during a hungry kiss, the harsh line of his jaw and the amusement shining in his eyes.

"That's better," He murmured, and everything was hot as he slid in, searing through you and stretching you out until you were practically choked with it, your nails digging into his shoulder blade through his plain white button-up, his suit jacket lost somewhere on the floor.

"Y-you, fuck," You stammered, losing your train of thought when he grinded up harder, everything pulling tight to hold him there.

His cool expression twisted, blinking a few times with a glossed over look in his eyes, trying to concentrate on his slipping control.

You hoped he'd lose it.

Hoped the years of pent-up lust wasn't only on your end. That his dreams held you too.

"Been keeping this from me, huh?" He groaned, sliding out and shoving in, setting a practically grueling pace almost immediately, like if he stopped for a second he'd wake up or you'd sneak out of his grip.

You wouldn't even if you could.

His mean grip tightened on your hips, shifting down to hold your thighs further apart for him to fuck your faster, deeper, the lewd sound of skin meeting skin probably loud enough someone might hear if they stood right outside the door. The wet noises of-

Shit, he hadn't put on a condom, had he?

You would fucking maim him if he passed you some STD, or if your birth control failed and you got pregnant. But you shoved the thought aside the second he split you back open, moaning at the sinful squeeze, your lips finding his mouth to kiss him again.

His teeth bumped into yours, his fingers dimpling your flesh as he grinded against your womb, his tip kissing your cervix right as he angled himself as deep as he could go.

"K-Kuna, please, fuck," You panted, a pathetic whimper pulled out by the pressure building in your core.

"Kuna?" He echoed, smug at the rare use of a nickname you always called cheesy. But you were trembling, shuddering and sweating.

He readjusted his hold on you, your thighs gripping his waist tighter as he rolled his hips forward to drive himself in while he fucked you against the wall.

"W-wanna cum," You whined, breathless.

Sukuna chuckled, and you vaguely suspected if you were somewhere else, he probably would've switched positions, drawn it out longer. Might have even been considering laying you out on the floor over his jacket and taking you there.

But he somehow managed to keep you up with one hand, using the rest of his body weight to keep your position steady against the wall so he could slip his other hand over, sliding his thumb over your clit.

Careful at first, watching the way your eyes fluttered shut at the sparks shot through you at his touch, his cock throbbing when you gasped.

"Goddamn, fuckin' made for me huh, baby," He grunted, thrusting in harsh and fast.

"Mm," You frantically nodded, delirious and (cock)drunk.

"You like that?" It was only half-egotistical, like he actually cared about learning what you liked.

"Uh, uh-huh," You tried to nod, feeling your breath start to stutter, back arching up to meet his hand, the movement only spurring him to fuck into you harder.

His own face has started to falter, all the muscles in his jaw pulled painfully tight as his abs tensed. But he refused to finish first, refused to so much as pause before he could make you cum.

Drawing circles over the sore and sensitive bud with his calloused thumb, cursing something under his breath, his head falling forward onto your collarbone. You felt it coming, the pressure hitting it's breaking point, cumming and crying his name while you clawed at his shoulder blades and tugged his hair hard.

He barely pulled out in time, cum coating your thighs and his hand, dripping down your legs. Part of you was barely coherent enough to think that at least none had hit the carpet.

Both of you breathless, quietly repeating his name into his hair and holding onto him while he just stared down at the mess he made on your thighs.

Years of yearning had cumulated in him using your own ripped underwear to clean his cum off of you.

"You wanna get out of here?"

You woke up in Sukuna's bed.

An old t-shirt hanging loose over you, the covers half-off and the sheets wrinkled. The smell of sex and cigarettes mixing with the perfume and breeze wafting in from a window he left cracked open overnight. A heavy arm was wrapped around your waist, holding you against his bare chest.

But then he started to stir, and the weight disappeared as he started to turn away, roll over. You yawned, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand before starting to sit up.

Your hips were sore, a dull ache in your thighs too. But your heart felt lighter. Lingering in the thought of his hands on your body and the husk in his voice in your ear.

You were made for him.

He wasn't someone you could tame or fix or help until he was husband material. But you never needed to mend him to begin with. Maybe it was unfortunate for you, but your acceptance of him had always been unconditional.

Unshakable.

"Morning," You mumbled, poking his muscular bicep just for him to swat our hand away and grumble something incoherent.

You huffed, pinching his side instead. You didn't even know what reaction you were hoping for. For him to chuckle? Flip over and hold your hands over your head so you couldn't do it again?

Sukuna ignored you instead, eyes shut as he tugged the blankets away from you entirely and pulled them over his body despite how hot his skin was to the touch.

You glanced around his room, clothes clustered haphazardly across the floor, guitar picks littering the surfaces along with crumpled receipts and a few unopened packs of cigarettes by a stack of notebooks. You'd been here a hundred times before, but never like this, and you were clueless on what you should do. What he wanted you to do.

"Hey, Kuna-" You spoke softly, unsure, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder. Bringing your knees to your chest while you tried to peek over and catch a better glimpse of his face before he shrugged your hand off.

"What?" He snapped, pulling a pillow halfway over his head to shield his eyes from the sunlight pouring in from his window he refused to buy curtains for. Hungover, probably, but his harshness hurt.

"Forget it," You mumbled.

The bed creaked when you got up, walking around to at least pull the blinds down for him. He moved the pillow back off, still keeping his eyes closed as he got more comfortable, the outline of long limbs stretching out visible under the blanket. You hesitated on that side of the bed, watching the way his chest rose and fell with each steady breath, his lips pulled together in a tight line. The same ones that had been all over you hardly a handful of hours ago.

You leaned down, about to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth before he moved. Tilted his head away, a small crease between his brows forming while he basically dodged it.

Rejection. Regret.

Whatever it was, you sure fucking felt it in full. Reeling back, recoiling into yourself away from him. You wanted to curl up and disappear, make yourself invisible so even if he cracked his eyes back open, he wouldn't be able watch you scramble to collect fresh clothes or yours from his bottom drawer.

It used to reserved just for you, but now it was overfilled, your stuff shoved the bottom so he could fit more of his own inside.

"The fuck are you doin'?" He groaned, starting to sit up just to wince and lay back down.

"I should go," You mumbled, barely audible.

Why had you ever thought you might be anything other than a tick on the long list of girls who'd spent the night in his bed?

"C'mere or get out so I can sleep," He grumbled.

You got out.

Guilty of being blind and naive when it came to him for deceiving yourself into believing he might've shared a fraction of your sentiment, your commitment.

He wasn't made for you.

And the universe couldn't help reminding you of that when you noticed him at a bar two weeks later, wrapped around another girl. Eyes meeting across the room, his dragging over your tiny dress before just nodding his head. You waited longer than you should've. But he didn't stop you from going home with the semi-cute stranger buying you shots.

No, it wasn't until you bumped into him leaving Kaori and Jin's house a few days later that you figured out where you fit in his life.

When you went to brush past him and leave before you had to actually talk to him, just for him to tail behind you without him even stepping foot inside. Shrugging off his questions and giving him the cold shoulder until he was pulling you in the backseat of his car with a scoff. Your arguments stopped when he started pulling your shirt over your head, tugging your breasts out of your bra before his tongue licked a long, clean stripe over your nipple.

Whatever this was, whatever you meant to him amounted to this. Convenient affection you weren't allowed to cling to.

His mouth trailed up your neck, phantom kisses left along your jaw until he was close to your mouth, but you turned your head before it could connect.

All you'd ever be to him was a friend he liked to fuck.

"Text me when you get back home?"

Suguru's hands were slipping under your shirt, tracing a slow line along your side as he pulled you in for another embrace. You could hear the girls outside, giggling at whatever Gojo was doing to keep them entertained so you could finish getting ready. Squeals of laughter and the pitter-patter of quick footsteps on hard wood, before he started counting loud enough you could make out every number, probably playing hide-and-seek.

"Yeah, sure," You nodded, a hand flat on his firm chest while you leaned up to press a peck to his cheek. "Good luck with the babysitter, and um, the studio."

His eyes crinkled, a soft smile on his lips that made your heart flutter for the hundredth time. Would it always be like that? Melting more with every kind expression until you were just a puddle he could scoop up in his hands?

"I'm pretty sure I'll just be thinking about you."

But staring out the window of Gojo's expensive foreign car, something sleek and white and just as showy as him, you were the one who couldn't stop thinking about him.

"So, do you like-like him?" Gojo goaded, glancing at you long enough that you threw him a scowl.

"Are we twelve?" You rolled your eyes. He laughed, but he was still looking at you instead of the very much busy street. "Can you keep your eyes on the road please?"

"You totally do," He grinned, pearly teeth on display even when he turned his head forward.

Okay, so, maybe you did. But you didn't need Gojo to go parroting every word you said to him back to Suguru.

He'd dragged you to a bakery first, hoodie tugged over his head and sunglasses pushed up his nose like he was used to being recognized. He gave them a fake name, something absurd, picking up a cake and buckling the box in the backseat. Tagging along as a bored accomplice for all his errands, running into stores just to pick up random items, bandaids and pens and sodas, shoving it all in the back of his trunk to kill time before your car was finished, the last stop on his list.

You dug your phone back out of your purse, turning it back on so you had an excuse not to carry on the conversation. After an hour hooked up to Suguru's charger, you figured the battery was probably close enough to full.

"He likes you back, you know," Gojo kept talking, although he hadn't really stopped since you got in the car. "Spent that whole show Friday sulking around because you weren't there."

"He didn't ask me to come," You mumbled, foot tapping on the floorboards waiting for your phone to finish turning on. "Besides, it didn't really look like that from your photos."

"So you did see them," Gojo laughed, the corner of his mouth pulling up higher, like it was on some invisible string. "Suguru made me delete them, but I told him you'd be jealous."

Why did that not surprise you?

"I'd call you a dickhead but I'm sure you've heard that one before," You sighed, brushing your hair back out of your face as your home screen finally popped up, quickly swiping to type in your code to unlock it.

What did surprise you was how many missed calls and messages were waiting for you.

Two from Kaori, a few more from Choso, but the bulk of them were from him.

"Didn't it work out though?" He whined, foot on the brakes to ease the car to a stop at the red light. Well, it was more like a jolt, the car stuttering close to the white line, phone almost falling from your hands while you tried to skim over the messages and piece together what could have possibly happened on their end to warrant this.

"You could've, I dunno, just told him to ask me out on a date," You murmured, distracted. Face scrunched together scrolling through drunk messages from Sukuna, starting with a hey that quickly spiralled into him demanding you call him back to typo-infested paragraph just wanting to know that you were okay. It almost sounded like an apology.

"No one ever listens to me though," Gojo complained, throwing a hand up in the air, his other fingers only loosely holding onto the steering wheel.

"I wonder why," You sarcastically muttered under you breath, a new message from Kaori popping up on screen asking for you to call her.

"Hey, I actually-"

"Shit, um, do you mind if I take a call really quick?" You asked, flicking your gaze back over to him, the red from the flight reflecting through the windshield onto his pale features.

"Nah, that's fine, go ahead," He shrugged. There was a glimmer of interest shining in his eyes, no matter how casually he said it.

Kaori picked up on the second ring, breathing an immediate sigh of relief while you readjusted the phone between your ear and shoulder.

"I told them you were fine," She huffed on the other end, then paused before continuing. "Sorry, I mean, are you fine?"

"Yeah, I'm okay, my car just broke down last night." You answered, stifling a yawn.

"And?" She waited for you to offer more, while you hesitated over what to say - and how much of it. Part of it was respecting Suguru's privacy, the girls' too. But you were a little scared just saying you stayed with him would be, well, jinxing it.

That talking about it at all would be asking the universe to rip it away from you.

"I got a ride," You murmured.

"Apparently not back to your place," Kaori called you on it. You could hear Yuji babbling about something in the background, Jin saying something you couldn't make out. "Two idiots showed up at my door in the middle of the night searching for you since you weren't at your apartment."

She said it like they were still in the room.

"Is it just you or am I on speakerphone?" You frowned. And really, what the fuck was wrong with them?

They hadn't picked up your calls.

It wasn't like you left a voicemail begging for help.

You weren't sure how to feel about it, if you should be grateful that they'd go to those lengths to make sure you were fine or really what to make of it at all.

"Yuji, stop that," She scolded, distracted herself.

"Hey, psst," Gojo half-whispered next to you. You glanced over at him, pulling the phone away from your ear to listen.

"Yeah?"

"Is your friend cute?" He nodded towards your phone.

"She's married," You deadpanned, blinking at him in disbelief.

"Who's that?" You could hear her the amusement in her voice, her precious inquiries and your own forgotten.

"One of his friends," You answered, face flushing. You didn't say who. But you knew she'd probably figured it out and pieced it together considering the topic of conversation at the last dinner you had together was you sleeping with Suguru Geto.

"Oh yeah?" She hummed. "So, I'm guessing you spent the night at his house then?"

At least someone was happy for you.

"Yeah," You awkwardly confirmed, flattening out the edges of your skirt and looking out the window again.

Kaori started to say something else, but suddenly the phone was swiped away from your ear, dangling between Gojo's fingers before he held it up to his.

"Hey," He casually greeted, like he was just answering his phone.

"You are such a child. Give it back," You groaned, seatbelt straining across your chest when you leaned over the center console.

"Are you really married?" He asked Kaori, tilting his head and using his elbow to keep you from snatching your phone back. You couldn't hear her response, but Gojo chuckled. "Can your husband fight?"

You were about to fight him.

"His brother might actually kill you," You hissed, swatting his elbow back down. Sukuna and Kaori may have a, well, strained relationship at best, but he'd started fights for less when it came to Jin.

"Do you have any other single friends then?" Gojo complained. "Suguru said you were off-limits."

"Like I'd sleep with you if I wasn't?" You scoffed.

Maybe if you never had a conversation with him. When you still thought he was the sort of pretty playboy that'd just fuck and forget about you. Not a manchild with too much time on his hands.

"So mean," He pouted.

"What? Did you think he was going to share?" You were being sarcastic, not actually meaning it, but you could read it in the way his eyes widened a little bit, the shape of his mouth and the scrunch of his nose that he actually had.

You blanked. Staring at him in silence for a few seconds.

"Do not answer that," You added, plucking the phone back from his hands.

The call with Kaori wrapped up pretty quickly, Jin huffing about her getting hit on in the background. You hoped for Gojo's sake at least that Sukuna wasn't there and eavesdropping.

"So, is pissing people off like a hobby of yours?" You grumbled as you shoved your phone back in your purse, watching the passing buildings so you didn't have to spare a glance over at him.

"Hey, I'm just an acquired taste," He argued, as if that was something to be proud of.

"Who told you that?" You muttered under your breath. His mom?

His pout faded by the time you reached the mechanic. However you were the one pouting once you took your card out to pay and were promptly informed your boyfriend already covered it when they spoke over the phone.

Tire fixed, and a few other repairs you kept putting off taken care of and paid in full, the keys being handed back to you before you could even wipe the shock off your face.

You were pretty sure the surprise was still there even when you made it back home, trudging through the door and flipping the lock.

Writing and deleting and rewriting a thank you message to him, not sure what to say when no one had done it for you before. Sukuna would sometimes fix things, sure, but you suspected he just half-assed it most of the time. Shrugged it off.

You ended up just letting him know you were home, adding a little you didn't have to pay for that before you could second-guess yourself anymore.

It was his response that you couldn't scrape and claw from your mind while you cleaned up, folding laundry and scrubbing dishes like you could distance yourself from the memory of his hands on your body.

You could almost imagine him saying it.

"I like taking care of you."

Fantasizing about hearing it for real instead of re-reading the words over and over again.

And when he called in the evening, you couldn't help but hope maybe you'd get the chance.

"Hey," His low voice murmured on the other end.

"Hi," You replied, chewing on the inside of your cheek and rolling over onto your stomach on bed.

"I'm sorry about Satoru," He exhaled, probably pinching the bridge of his nose while he did it.

"It's fine," You giggled. "I mean, he did hit on my married friend, but-"

"God," He groaned. "Idiot."

"Yeah," You agreed, a small smile pulling up on your lips picturing what sort of exasperated face he was making.

"I'll talk to him again," He muttered. "He, uh, didn't exactly have a lot of friends as a kid and I guess you could say it shows."

You laughed again, twirling a loose strand of hair before snagging one of your pillows to rest your head on.

"I know someone like that too," You hummed. Sukuna was just a different sort of stunted. "It's not going to scare me away, if that's what you're worried about."

You hoped he would be able to say the same if you ever worked up the nerve to share that sordid piece chunk of your history. It would come up eventually, if he was serious about this, about you.

He was in half your childhood photos, scribbled in the margins and the pages of most of your life.

Until now.

"I think I might've used up all my luck on you," He sighed again.

"Do you ever get sick of saying stuff like that?"

You didn't get sick of hearing it. Even if it felt unnatural. Could spend a life laying there listening his honeyed voice whisper things you used to dream about with clammy palms, picking at your nails while you tried to convince yourself you deserved to hear them.

"I want to see you again," He abruptly said. He spoke like it was a fact. Something he was certain of. "I hated the way it felt watching you get in Satoru's car."

"Oh?" You held your breath, biting your tongue to hold yourself together too.

"I wanted to cancel all my plans and carry you back inside," He huffed, but you couldn't decide if it sounded more like a compliment or a complaint.

Even if the feelings made him uncomfortable, he was still communicating them.

"You know I would've let you," You softly replied.

He sighed again, and you could feel it through the phone he would've kissed you if he was there.

"I know we have a date planned this week," He started, his voice dropping lower, quieter. Your heart fell, the hopes that'd slowly been building crashing down waiting for him to cancel.

"It's ok-" You immediately tried to shrug it off by interrupting, not sure if you could handle hearing the words actually leave his mouth.

"But what are you doing Tuesday?" He finished his question while your mouth was still open, your pulse pounding in your ears.

"I'm sorry?" You heard yourself ask, the surprise lingering.

"Would you wanna come over? I can cook. The girls would be here, but uh, they've been asking about my girlfriend," He chuckled, carefully enunciating the word like he knew how much you'd be replaying it in your head. "They usually go to bed pretty early, and-"

"Your girlfriend?" You repeated, your tongue struggling to shove the syllables out. Playing dumb to make him say it. To hear it for yourself. "Who's that?"

"You," He purred in your ear. "If you want to be."

"Is this you asking?" You hummed, not feeling half as cool as you sounded.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" He drew each word out so slow, somehow sweet even when he was teasing you.

"Okay," You murmured, suppressing a soft laugh from sheer giddiness, glad he couldn't see how wide your smile was.

"Okay?"

"I'll be your girlfriend," You echoed his question in your answer, burying your face in your pillow like it'd contain your excitement. "And, um, Tuesday night sounds great."

"Good."

It was, wasn't it?

"So you're mine now?" You teased, a foreign feeling settling in your chest, but not one you wanted to resist anymore.

"All yours."

"You know, I didn't really think you were the dating type," You admitted, the heat still burning under your cheeks as you hugged the pillow closer.

"I've never been that interested before now," He casually said, and even if it was cheesy, you knew what he meant. One coincidence, one conversation, and he had ripped the rug out from under your feet, a free fall you still hadn't landed from.

"Yeah," You quietly replied, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"I don't want to share you with some other guy or watch you slip out in the morning," Suguru spoke firmly. You wondered if it had anything to do with last night's conversation in the car. Or if maybe sending you off had left the same bitter taste in his mouth that it did in yours. "I guess I figured I'd be stupid to not do something about it."

"I, um, haven't exactly been in a relationship in a while," You admitted, barely stopping yourself from biting your nails. A while was an understatement. Your last actual boyfriend hadn't been since what? College? Even then, the most you could do was study dates and coffee outside of sneaking into his dorm. "But I wanna try with you."

You could picture him running his hands through his hair while he chuckled, wondering if he was still at the studio or back home already, if he was leaning against a wall, cigarette dangling between his lips.

"I wanna try with you too."

It was a promise you hoped he'd keep. You had meant it.

"Suguru?" His name felt right rolling off your tongue, like it'd been waiting your whole life for it.

"Yeah, baby?"

"I like you."

If there was one thing Sukuna couldn't fucking stand, it was the silent treatment.

Unfortunately, it was something you had mastered.

His texts? Seen. His calls? Unanswered.

You never even replied to his messages the next morning. Forced to sit on his brother's couch and listen in to your phone call, unable to hear your voice, trying to guess your answers from Kaori's question, feeling the sharp stabs of anger in his gut when he realized where you spent the night.

Whose bed you were in. The fingers that probably pried your thighs apart to pull down your panties.

Did you let him kiss you?

Flutter your lashes up at him and moan his name? Rake your nails down his back?

He had stomped over, scowling until Kaori begrudgingly put your voice on speaker, the hurt burning hotter when he heard who else you were with, even if you were bickering back-and-forth.

Choso had been right.

He was losing you.

And he didn't know how to even start getting you back.

Your location stayed off. You stopped posting on social media, not even any stupid stories to let him know you were at least doing fine without him. What was worse?

He didn't. Photos of your hand in his, a naked strip of your back, faint bruises and teeth marks with some stupid grainy filter on it, nothing that ever showed your face or more than a snippet of your voice, your laugh, soft launching your relationship for everyone else to see.

You were Suguru's. Put on show.

It'd been weeks since your big fight, and all the distractions he tried to fill his days with didn't fill the emptiness in his chest, the cold spot on his couch where you used to curl up next to him and watch shitty reality TV together eating cold leftovers.

Trying to pour it into music, focus his energy in finishing their next single. But the song it started as wasn't the one it ended up being. Not when you were the one he couldn't scrub from every crevice of his mind when he was writing it.

His manager somehow managed to get them booked on one of those late night talk shows to fill the live performance slot the night it was supposed to be released.

He should be nervous.

Should be thinking about waking up early in the morning to finish filming the music video for it, should be checking his schedule and posting about their appearance, should be scribbling down lyrics and chords to and thinking of what the next couple months would bring.

But the future felt sobering. Sludge sticking to his feet and dragging him down, caught up in his own muck and mess. What was the point of hitting these milestones when you weren't here?

When you weren't watching?

Despite everything, he still sort of expected you to be there backstage, sending you tickets and passes beforehand, pride bleeding and wounded when he had to type out if you want to come.

It might've shattered completely if he sent what he was really thinking. That he wanted you to come.

The distance made his skin crawl, restless in bed and staring at his ceiling wondering whose you were you were sleeping under. He tried to bridge it. Tried knocking at your door and sticking notes through the cracks.

Just to hear secondhand that you needed more space.

Space was all there fucking was.

He hadn't even seen you at Jin's place - although him and Kaori were the only source he had for any actual updates on you. And your new boyfriend.

Did you tell Suguru Geto about him?

He didn't know what he wanted the answer to be.

It wasn't like he could ask.

There were only five minutes left before they were supposed to go on.

And you weren't here.

"Mind if I change the channel?" Suguru murmured in your ear, his lips leaving another hungry line of hickies down your throat even as his free hand reached for the remote on the coffee table.

You weren't watching anyway.

It was mostly background noise for another late night make out session, sinking into his couch cushions with snacks and drinks strewn across the table, movies and shows only playing to drown out the sound while the girls were tucked in and sleeping in their room. Lazy, soft kisses, a hand under your shirt while you played with his hair until one of you eventually caved and begged to take it back to the bedroom.

He looked up, hitting buttons on the remote while you trailed kisses over his jaw, feeling the hard line it was set in.

"Is something you wanna watch on?" You hummed, letting your teeth scrape against his throat and sucking softly, hoping to leave a mark while he was distracted.

"You can bite harder than that, baby," He teased in a low voice, his breathing getting huskier when you sank your canines in, legs locking around his waist while he turned the volume up a notch. The couch creaked, and through both your clothes, you could still feel how much his cock was throbbing pressed so snugly between your bodies.

"You didn't answer my question," You reminded him, nipping at his collarbone instead this time while he chuckled.

"It's nothing important," Suguru insisted.

But his phone was buzzing on the table, close to the edge by his untouched bowl of popcorn.

"Sorry," He apologetically sighed, and you hummed your quiet discontent, returning to planting your soft kisses, tugging down the already stretched out collar of his sweater to feel his smooth skin underneath your lips.

"You watchin'?" You heard Gojo's voice on the other end, close enough to make out the annoyed groan puncturing the question.

"Yeah, we are," Suguru replied, his body going stiff when you rolled your hips up against him trying to make a moan slip out. He cut you a sharp look, eyes narrowed like he'd be returning the favor later. Maybe not tonight. But as soon as he could get the babysitter to get the girls out of the house for a few hours.

You were tempted to stick your tongue out at him, but you traced a hand along his side to slip under his shirt, fingertips ghosting across the muscles until you felt the coarse hair of his happy trail.

"Behave," He scolded in a quiet murmur, grabbing your hand before it could drift further south and holding it over your head, pressing it against the pillow and holding it there before going back to his call.

"Tell her I said hi," Gojo's faint voice insisted.

"Hi, Satoru," You replied, speaking up just enough he'd probably be able to hear you. Suguru sighed, but put the call on speaker phone anyway.

"I think it's about to start," Gojo was being huffy, a strained hint of annoyance in his voice directed to whatever was on.

You had to crane your neck to see past Suguru's broad frame, peeking over his shoulder to see a live audience for some talk-

Oh. Shit.

You forgot.

"Think it's going to be good?" Gojo chattered, and you recognized it now, a familiar streak of competitiveness.

"Maybe," Suguru neutrally answered. He was harder to read. Just a slight crease between his brows, not smiling but not really frowning either. His eyes flicked to the pack of cigarettes on the edge of the table by his keys.

"I hope their single sucks," Gojo complained.

"We'll see."

You weren't sure which one of you froze first when Sukuna came on screen, guitar slung across his chest, standing in front of the microphone, dark stare focused at the camera like he could see through it. The others were relaxed, or well, Uruame and Yuki were at least, the latter twirling a drumstick between her fingers and winking when the camera panned to her. Choso looked like a nervous wreck, but that wasn't really anything new.

Suguru was scowling now, and you didn't think it was even on purpose. Just an instinct. You felt something cold sink in your stomach, ice seeping through your veins.

It was one thing when you knew Sukuna just disliked him. He hated everyone. You never really considered that Suguru returned his disgust.

The camera centered back on Sukuna as he leaned in, lips almost grazing against the microphone. His stare was searing through the screen, knuckles white holding the microphone stand.

"You know this is about you."

Were you a whore?

Laying on your boyfriend's couch and staring at the blades of his ceiling fan, while one man kissed your mouth and another was serenading you on live television.

"You don't have to stop because of me," Suguru murmured into your skin, pressing another peck to your cheek before glancing back to the tv. Hearing Sukuna's voice, the gravel in it, the hurt in his husky tone, it all just felt wrong in Suguru's house.

Every line felt too raw, too personal, too not Sukuna for you to fully process. The harder you tried to tune him out, the more it felt like you were being drowned by him, like his veiny hands were holding you under until you heard him.

Suguru's eyes were narrowed, his lip pulling tight as he listened too.

"It's pretty good," Gojo's grainy voice chimed in from the forgotten phone. "Even if it's kinda whiney."

Whiney.

He wasn't wrong. It was as close to a whine as Sukuna could get, still hoarse and gravelly, but no one could mistake his plea.

For you.

Putting things you'd waited him to say for years into a song that was a few months late. Things that hurt you more now. Made every piece of you ache and burn the way his hands once did.

"What do you think?" Suguru hummed, and it wasn't until he pulled a few inches away back that you realized he was asking you.

"Hm?" You feigned innocence, despite the huge fucking lump in your throat, leaning up to distract him with soft kisses across his face while he chuckled.

"The song?" He asked, one of his hands moving to cup your face and actually turn your head towards the tv.

What did you think?

You wished it was off.

Because watching him sing about regrets only made you consider your own. And you refused to have any when it came to him.

Sukuna was the one who never wanted a relationship. Who would openly fuck around with other women while you were in the room. Who never fucking cared until he couldn't have you anymore.

You moved on.

He could too.

So why the fuck did it still hurt to hear him hurting?

To see it in his clenched jaw and cold stare?

It was silly and stupid, but you felt like he could see you through the camera, that it was you who he was pretending was on the other side, that all these words were for you and you alone and he couldn't give a shit about the rest of the audience.

"Baby?" Suguru tucked a hair away from your face, forcing you back to the present, to where you belonged.

"It's good," You simply replied.

It was different from their usual songs, but it was obvious the crowd adored it. Adored him. You suspected the reception online would be the same.

Suguru didn't seem that pleased with your answer, even if you could tell he agreed - if only technically speaking.

The muscles in his face were pulled too tight, his smile forced as he nodded.

You wondered what expression you were making. What little hints you accidentally gave away.

"You're s'pposed to say you hate it," Gojo chided you, apparently sharing Suguru's disdain for your former lover? Friend?

"I hate it," You echoed, and you actually meant it.

You hated him for putting you back in this position of wishing everything was different. Hated the song for shoving it in your face how much he only wanted you when you were someone else's.

You hated yourself too for the piece of your heart that still wanted to believe him.

"Good girl," Gojo purred over the phone, and Suguru made a disgusted sound for you, his scowl shifting focus.

"Go ahead, say that to my girlfriend again," Suguru dared, low and stern. A barely veiled threat.

"Good-"

Suguru hung up the phone before he could finish, throwing it back on the table and rolling his eyes.

"I swear he gets stupider every day," He murmured, shaking his head, but his attention had already returned to the screen.

The song was almost over.

Or at least, you hoped it was.

Suguru returned to kissing you, despite being distracted, his lips dancing over your cheeks, grazing over the corner of your mouth before tracing over your jaw. Phantom pecks that didn't do much to pull your own attention away from tonight's soundtrack.

Sukuna was haunting you without even being here.

His rough voice and the grit to his words, blunt and raw and wrong. That was the word you were stuck on, unable to catch your breath as Suguru's teeth scraped back over your skin.

You just laid there, lost between the two of them while a cool hand slid under your shirt and past your bra, groping your tit and toying with your nipple. You gasped at the contact, his fingers quick to pinch and twist just to get a reaction out of you while you pouted at him.

"You never play fair," You murmured, whining at how effortlessly he worked you up.

"Why should I?" He challenged, a cute crooked smile curling up on his face for the first time since Sukuna came on screen.

You rolled your eyes, but he didn't stop squeezing, his broad body readjusting over you, couch creaking as he moved.

His attention shifted again, looking over his shoulder at the tv. Eyes narrowing to thin slits as you realized the final notes of the song were being played, Sukuna's tormented stare cutting through the camera straight through to you.

And yet, you still couldn't help but wonder what Suguru made of it. What history they might share and why, exactly, hadn't you heard of it?

You weren't dumb enough to think Sukuna ever told you everything. But it seemed he'd left out more than just a few pages when it came to his distaste for your boyfriend.

Not that you'd be able to really ask him now. Or even Suguru.

What were you supposed to say, 'Hey, by the way, that guy you clearly hate? He's actually my best friend I've been fucking for years!'?

Was, technically. All past tense.

You weren't sure what he was to you now. You'd gone weeks without really talking before, but this wasn't the same - and he knew it too.

You'd never had an actual boyfriend before. And he'd never confessed he loved you on live television.

"What are you thinking about, pretty girl?" Suguru hummed, bringing you back to him. His hands were still all over you, but his eyes hadn't left the screen. You guessed he'd just noticed your quiet.

"It's nothing."

Another night he would've called you on it, cut you a disapproving look or folded his arms across his chest until you told him. But he was just as distracted too.

The host was back on stage, talking about cutting to commercial as the crowd just kept applauding, telling everyone to stay tuned for an exclusive interview with the band.

Suguru grabbed the remote and turned it off before he finished.

"Asshole," He muttered to himself, clearly still mulling over the performance before he managed to turn the charm back on, a lazy smile curling back up on his lips as he traced over the outline of your body. "Sorry."

"You really don't like him?" You tentatively asked, fishing for details you didn't know if you even wanted.

How much harder would it make it to tell him the truth?

He chuckled, but it was dry, almost condescending before he answered. "You could say that."

You nodded like you understood.

He didn't elaborate, and you didn't ask again.

Suguru glanced back towards the cigarettes on the table. It wasn't like he actually smoked that often, but after enough time together, you could tell when he was itching for one. Usually on late nights like this, when there was a lot on his mind or after a particularly brutal day. You wiggled out from underneath him, sitting up and swinging your legs off of the couch to stand.

"Hey," He spoke softer now, sitting up too just to grab your hips before you could slip out of his reach.

"Hey," You echoed him.

"You mind if I step out for a few minutes?" Suguru sighed a little, but his eyes were sincere. He wouldn't smoke if you asked him not to, but you both knew you wouldn't.

"Course not," You shrugged, hoping it came out easy instead of exhausted.

"Keep me company?"

He held you close, one hand shifting to your back so he could rest his head on your stomach. Affection you were starting to think you were addicted to.

You couldn't imagine this ever ending. Couldn't risk it.

"I think I'm, um, just gonna grab a drink," You murmured, pulling away and glancing back towards the kitchen. "Listen out in case the girls wake up."

Suguru nodded, too absorbed in his own afterthoughts to call bullshit as he bent over to grab the pack of cigarettes and started towards the back patio, flipping the lock and starting to step out.

He'd forgotten his lighter though, so you snagged it, feeling strange as you scurried to catch up to him, grabbing his forearm before he could slip past the door.

His familiar chuckle was the first taste of real comfort you had since Sukuna had once again ripped open a huge fucking pit in your stomach that threatened to swallow you whole.

He plucked a cigarette out of the box, bringing it to his lips and leaning down so you could light it for him. A small smile curled up despite your growing anxieties, your thumb dragging over the cold metal of the little wheel on the side, watching the tip of the cigarette glow as the flames danced over it.

He took a small huff, blowing it out into the cool night breeze, a pretty gleam in his eyes when he glanced down at you.

"No thank you?" You hummed, gaze flickering from the rings of smoke up the the tired circles under his eyes.

Suguru only took the cigarette out long enough to kiss your cheek, and you could feel his smirk on your skin. "Mm, I can think of a couple way to thank you properly later."

"You're brushing your teeth first," You muttered, reluctantly releasing his forearm. "And changing clothes."

"Anything for my girl," He wryly teased, leaning against the glass door as you wistfully watched him take another drag. "Although I wasn't really planning on wearing clothes."

You rolled your eyes, stepping back inside and shutting the door behind you.

Maybe he wouldn't mind as much as you feared.

The night be picked you up in the rain - hadn't he reacted rationally? Reassuring? Didn't put you down for sleeping around or having sex with someone else?

You just couldn't shake the feeling it wouldn't be the same if he knew that someone was Sukuna.

Attempting to drown your anxities in a glass of water was far less effective than a bottle of bourbon, but nicotine was the only vice to be found in Suguru's house, and even that was always kept out of sight of the girls, only indulged when they were asleep or out with a babysitter.

You hadn't even finished half of it before you heard soft footsteps padding down the hall, quiet sniffles breaking the silence.

Nanako peeked out into the kitchen, big brown eyes watching you curiously.

"Hi, sweetheart," You softly said, glancing back to the door. You could only make out the outline of Suguru's broad back through the glass, but you doubted he was about to come inside. "Nightmare?"

"Mhm," She yawned, rubbing her eyes and shuffling her feet closer until she was resting her head on your leg.

"Need me to get your daddy?" You asked, brushing her hair back out of her face.

To your surprise, she shook her head no, tugging on your hand instead.

"Tuck me in?" She quietly requested, still sounding half-asleep as she started pulling you back through the hall.

You let her drag you back to her room, a funny sort of floating feeling rising in your chest as she kicked stuffed animals out of the way and you had to suppress a quiet giggle watching her climb back into her bed.

Fixing the blankets back over her while she readjusted, wiggling around until she was comfortable. You glanced over at her still sleeping sister before leaning in to whisper. "All better?"

Nanako nodded, but her eyes were still wide and uneasy.

"Will you stay until I fall asleep?" She whispered back.

"Sure," You smiled.

You ended up sitting on the floor next to the bed, cross-legged and holding her hand while you struggled not to doze off yourself in the dim room, only the soft glow of the nightlight to cut through the long shadows.

Suguru found you like that, eyes half-closed and head resting on the mattress, gently nudging you.

Nanako wasn't asleep yet, but she was yawning again before she could whisper a hushed protest.

"Go back to sleep, honey," Suguru murmured, patting her head. Nanako looked up at you with big eyes, flat out ignoring her dad.

"You said you'd stay," She whined, tugging at edges of your shirt when you went to stand.

"For a little bit?" You relented, glancing up at Suguru with puppy dog eyes of your own.

It was kind of sweet to feel needed, to have a place you felt like you belonged. A little space for you that they had carved out.

You both stayed until she fell back asleep, Suguru sitting on the floor next to you, a hand rubbing comforting circles on your thigh while he whispered her a second bedtime story.

Creeping back out without stepping on one of the thousand toys they'd left out from staying up playing past their bedtime was harder than you expected, stifling a laugh at Suguru's frown, almost breaking into giggles when he muttered something about making them clean their room in the morning.

The smell of cigarette smoke clung to his clothes, but you'd started to find it almost comforting, familiar. It'd never really bothered you to begin with - but your feelings had shifted with the rest of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You were falling for him hard - bad habits and all.

Suguru shuffled into the bathroom, but not before stripping off his shirt and jeans, muscles defined and on display as he tossed them into the laundry basket. You smiled, trading your own clothes in for one of his oversized shirts hanging in his closet and a pair of your own shorts you'd kept in the drawer of stuff you'd started keeping at his place.

"You'd make a good mom," He commented, toothbrush still dangling from his lips while he watched you climb into what had unofficially become your side of the bed.

"I dunno," You laughed, a little too airy and breathless to be real. "You think so?"

Sometimes you wondered what he saw in you that Sukuna never did. And which one of them was right.

"Mhm," He insisted, slyly eyeing you before returning to the sink to spit out the remnants of his toothpaste. There was still a little smudge of white on his bottom lip when he leaned back against the doorframe. "You don't think so?"

"Never really thought about it, I guess," You shrugged.

Suguru was your first real relationship after all. The first guy that'd made it past more than a handful of dates to stick around.

"You're great with the girls," He simply said. You could feel yourself smiling at that, even if you knew it was just because you had enough practice chasing around Yuji, accustomed to the easily-changing moods of toddlers.

"Well, thanks." You tried to hide your flush, how giddy the compliment really made you. Suguru flicked the lights off in the bathroom, only pale moonlight from the window streaming in to illuminate the room.

"Makes me want to make you a mom," He teased, walking over to the bed. Instead of getting on his side, he climbed directly on top of you, palms sliding over the outline of your body over the blanket before he settled in next to you.

"I think you have your hands full already," You laughed, despite the heat in your face.

You? Pregnant?

Sukuna would have a stroke.

"Maybe not right now," He sighed. But later.

"You're so full of shit," You quietly said, rolling over so your back was to his chest.

He was a master at teasing, at luring you in with those low laughs and smooth words, weaving a web to snare you in, wrapped so tight you'd never be able to squirm out.

His casual kisses and intense stares, suggesting a future together so easily.

As if loving you was really so simply to him.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Suguru murmured in your ear, brushing your hair to the side so his lips could ghost over your skin.

"Hoping you're free," You giggled. He chuckled back, pressing a longing kiss to your throat as his body snuggled closer to yours under the covers.

"The girls are getting watched," He hummed, and you were already smiling, pulling one of his muscled arms around you tighter. A date then? Maybe a movie? "We're supposed to have a rehearsal. At that venue we're performing at next weekend?"

Oh.

Your smile turned down, disappointment closing your throat, the thick taste of it hard to swallow.

"You could come with me," He added, his hand wrapping around your waist so he could trace little patterns with the pad of his thumb. "Watch a real show. Might be some management there, but doubt it'll be that formal."

It was impossible to miss that sharp dig at Sukuna, the harsh edge to his sweet sentences.

"Yeah?" You replied, but your voice was small, unconvinced.

"Could find an empty dressing room after," He suggested, and you were a little ashamed at how quickly you felt the heat skyrocket in your stomach at the implication. "Or I can take you out to eat."

You could practically feel the curve of his smirk as he dotted your collarbone with more pecks. You didn't say anything though, waiting to see what else he might add.

"You could be my dessert," He sighed, all dreamy and smooth, like you weren't already hooked on him.

"Deal," You muttered.

What else could you say?

"Shit."

Out of all the words you could hope to wake up to, that wasn't one of them.

Blinking wearily, you sat up, pushing off his soft mattress and glancing over to the empty spot next to you.

Suguru was pacing the floor, talking on the phone, or just hanging up, you guessed, pulling it away from his ear and running his fingers through his hair. The rest of the house was quiet, the girls probably still asleep.

"Sugu?" You yawned, and his face swiveled towards you, his irritation softening to just annoyance, or inconvenience.

"Sorry, baby," He murmured, looking back down at the phone in his hand distastefully before glancing back over to where you'd started to sit up in his bed. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," You stifled a second yawn, covering your mouth before stretching your sore limbs out. "Something happen?"

"The babysitter cancelled," Suguru grunted, and you could practically see him running through the list of options in his head, if he'd have to bring the girls to the rehearsal or try to find a trusted caregiver on a Saturday with such short-notice.

"I could watch them," You heard yourself offer, still too sleepy to realize what exactly you were suggesting until after it left your mouth.

Suguru paused, his lips parted as he played with the idea, his head tilting to the side while he considered it.

"Are you sure?" He asked, carefully choosing his words as he squinted at your attempts to rub the sleep from your eyes.

"Yeah," You nodded. The girls seemed to like you. Or at least, tolerated their dad's new girlfriend most of the time. They'd whisper to each other sometimes, watching you from across the room while they played with their toys, but they still included you on their games and shared silly stories when you came over - which, uh, was pretty often lately.

And you were the one Nanako wanted last night, right?

"They can be a lot," Suguru started, really staring at you now, and you tried to tame your mused-hair, a little self-conscious at the intensity behind it.

"Yeah, I think I've gathered that by now," You mumbled. You climbed out of bed, padding over to the soft rug he was standing on to poke his chest. "You think I can't handle them?"

You watched Yuji plenty of times - and he probably had enough energy for two kids.

"I know you can," He replied, catching your finger in his massive hand rather than swat it away. "But I don't want you to feel like you have to."

"I really don't mind," You insisted. You liked your place with him, the spot they were dusting off and making for you, where you were wanted. "It'll be fun."

You were wrong.

Well, half-wrong.

Handling two kids turned out much different than dealing with just one. You'd try to help Mimiko fix her pigtails just for Nanako to slip out of the room and start rummaging through cabinets, clanging pots together the second you turned your back. Making snacks and sandwiches meant two sets of hands were pawing at your clothes and trying to steal bites from the plate, then having to clean them, the table, and the floor.

But considering no one was crying or injured, just minor messes and only one broken toy, you'd say you were succeeding so far.

Satoru had picked Suguru up after a late breakfast, your boyfriend giving you a kiss on the cheek before kicking his best friend out of the driver's seat and leaving you with the twins. He'd left the keys to his dad-mobile on the counter, scribbling down the address of the venue and texting it to you too, entrusting you to bring the girls towards the tail-end of their rehearsal. Murmuring more apologies in your ear and suggesting Satoru might watch the girls afterwards so Suguru ould make it up to you.

You nodded along to all his plans in the moment, forgetting how hard it could be to get a single child buckled into a car seat. Two?

God, whoever was babysitting the twins before needed a raise.

Getting them out was somehow even worse, trying to hold Mimiko while you struggled to unbuckle Nanako while she wiggled and grabbed at your fingers.

Eventually though, you managed, locking the door and slipping the keys in your purse while you glanced around the mostly-empty parking lot. You wondered if Gojo was the one who pulled strings to get it as a space to practice, or if maybe it was something their manager arranged to get ready for their show next weekend.

Sukuna might've snagged a late night show spot, but Suguru informed you over pancakes this morning that they were going to just perform their own new single at the next concert.

Something he'd written himself.

You hadn't heard it yet, but after last night, you were a teensy but terrified it was about you too.

"Is daddy here?" Mimiko asked quietly, peering up at you with big brown eyes as you plastered back on your perkiest smile.

"Mhm," You nodded, keeping an eye out for any cars as you made your way to the side entrance. "We're gonna go see him now."

With one girl on your hip and the other clutching your hand, you awkwardly led them inside, familiar eyes of stagehands and security guards curiously watching you with your new companions as you navigated through the narrow halls backstage.

You heard them before you saw them once you turned the corner, instruments still slung over their shoulder while they argued about something surey stupid.

"It's terrible."

"It's not." Cue Gojo's overdramatic groan. "You just have terrible taste."

"I agree with Nanami," An unfamiliar voice added, somewhere from the audience, or maybe just out-of-sight offstage. An older guy, if you had to guess, maybe a manager or someone else on their team.

"Seriously?" Gojo scoffed.

Whatever him and Nanami and the mysterious third party were bickering about, you weren't exactly looking forward to walking into the middle of it.

But Nanako was, her tiny palm ripping away from yours to start sprinting ahead of you, beaming at the sound of their voices.

"Nana, wait," You called out, barely catching her before she could burst through the side onto the stage.

But the squeak of her light-up sneakers against the floor had them all turning your direction, your face flushing as you tried to wrangle her with Mimiko still perched on your hip. Nanako just slipped free again, and you figured she'd make a beeline for Suguru, but she threw herself into Nanami's legs instead, tugging at his pants before holding her arms up to be held.

"Kennnnn," She whined, and you couldn't help but crack a grin at the way he was already readjusting the shoulder straps of his bass to make space for her at his side. "Pick me up."

Nanami clicked his tongue, but he didn't hesitate to pick her up, carefully holding her. She squealed, clearly pleased at this as she threw her arms over his shoulders. Haibara was laughing at the scene, standing up behind his drum set and wiping the sweat off his brows with his t-shirt. You didn't quite catch what he said, but you guessed it was something about water or getting a drink, hurrying off the stage and almost bumping into you.

"Sorry," You apologized, hoisting Mimiko higher on your hip as you walked over to the rest of the band, glancing anxiously over at an amused Suguru. He'd probably pout later that his daughter didn't even come to him first, but you knew he wouldn't ever admit it out loud. Just silently frown and ask her who she loved most until she said him.

Right now though?

He seemed to be swept up in your performance playing babysitter to the girls.

"I don't think they're finished yet, sweetheart. Wanna go color together backstage?" You hummed, offering out another hand. You'd packed coloring books and crayons plus a few of their toys in an oversized tote slung over your other shoulder.

"No."

Suguru chuckled dryly, walking over to stand by you, ruffling Mimiko's hair first and yours next as he observed his other daughter's little fist balled up in Nanami's shirt.

"You guys miss me?" He asked, pinching Nanako's cheek while she huffed and buried her face into his bandmate's chest.

"No," Nanako repeated, and you laughed at how quickly Suguru's smirk dissolved into a frown.

"What can I say?" You teased, nudging Suguru with your hip. "I'm fun."

Even if you had a twin-sized headache forming behind your eyes.

Mimiko helped him recover his composure, mumbling that she missed him, barely speaking loud enough to be heard with her face still pressed against your shirt.

"How are my favorite girls?" The voice you'd forgotten about called out behind you, loud and a little obnoxious considering the acoustics made it echo and boom.

You turned around instinctively, but your brain struggled to register what you were seeing.

Two Gojos.

Or well, there was your normal Satoru, his usually bright eyes narrowed into a glare and his guitar still slung across his chest. You didn't mean to stare at the other one, but it took you a second to piece it together, only a few extra wrinkles and lines giving it away that he was older.

Sukuna had claimed he was a nepo baby before, but it wasn't until you realized it was Gojo Senior standing in front of you that it clicked Satoru's father was someone important - maybe the owner of the management company, or some CEO, judging by his crisp business suit and overpriced loafers.

They looked ridiculously similar - the cheeky grin and clear complexion, but his dad's stark white hair was a bit longer, wearing a thin pair of glasses that reminded you of the reading ones Suguru had back home.

The intense blue eyes behind them focused on you.

"I've been begging Suguru to bring you by," He chuckled, glancing between you and Suguru. He hadn't glanced back at Satoru once, beaming at you.

"Um, hi," You awkwardly greeted, holding out your free hand just for the older man to pull you into a bear hug.

Like father, like son, you guessed, if lacking the concept of personal space could be passed down. Or maybe Satoru was just mimicking what he saw at home.

"Heard a lot about you," He laughed, a little too loud while he pulled away and patted your back. He squatted down so he was eye-to-eye with Mimiko, pulling out a plastic-wrapped lollipop from his pocket and holding it out for her. Nanako's head snapped towards you at the sound of the wrapper, eyes gleaming as he chuckled and passed her one too. "These two are the closest I think I'll ever have to grandkids."

He said it like he was confessing some secret to you, leaning in like this was information you were supposed to keep to yourself when he was talking loud enough for everyone to hear.

His actual son included.

You didn't know what to say, but Suguru came to your rescue, his hand finding the small of your back, the pressure of his palm reassuring you.

"The babysitter cancelled," Suguru explained, tracing over your spine with his thumb as he introduced you properly. "I asked her to bring the girls by."

You felt that sharp stare on your face, but it was hard to meet, only managing to glance up a few times, your attention shifting to the floor and between your boyfriend and his best friend instead.

Satoru's jaw was clenched, locked onto the exchange carefully.

"Well, looks like you won't need a babysitter much longer, hm?" The Gojo you decided you liked much less asked with a slightly condescending tilt of his head, glancing over your body. You weren't sure what exactly he meant to imply. That you were supposed to play mom already? Or that you'd be actually be one and give im a third fake grandkid?

Okay, maybe you were overthinking - last night's late night conversation worming its way deeper into your brain than you wanted it to.

"I'm sorry?" Suguru stiffened behind you, clearly trying to work out what the hell Gojo's dad was trying to say.

But the older Gojo had moved on, looking back at his son for the first time since you'd gotten here.

"Have you invited them to dinner yet?" All the warmth that'd just been in his voice had drained into something cold and clinical.

"No," Satoru grimaced.

You didn't know it was even possible for him to answer a question with just a single word.

He begrudgingly walked over, slinking up to your other side, his mouth still stuck in a frozen frown.

"Family dinner's at six, Suguru," The older Gojo sighed, checking his watch and glancing behind him. His mask was quick to come on, cheery and pleasant as he tapped his watch. Probably some luxury brand you'd never even heard of. His time seemed to be of greater importance than everyone else's, judging by his impatient huff. "I have to get going, but I expect you there."

His demand was directed to Suguru alone.

You guessed the girls too, but you weren't sure if it included you. Or even Satoru, judging by the irritated scowl he was throwing his father's back.

Satoru nudged you, a funny look on his face while he swept over your face, taking note of how hard you were nervously chewing on your lip. "Ignore him. I do."

There was no way his dad didn't hear him.

But before he had even left, there were more voices approaching, a pretty woman in a tight little purple dress greeting him politely as she glanced up from her phone.

"Hello, Manami," The older Gojo purres, pitching his voice down too low for you to be comfortable.

You decided you probably shouldn't ask Satoru about Mrs. Gojo then.

"That's our bitch of a publicist," Satoru muttered in your ear, quiet enough that even Suguru wouldn't hear.

If it was someone else, you'd scold him for calling another woman a bitch.

But whatever was going on between them seemed personal enough, you had no intentions of getting involved with.

"Hi, boys," She chirped when she walked out, walking straight over without even looking at you.

"Manami, this is my girlfriend," Suguru started the introductions up again, but your audience this time couldn't be less interested.

"Oh." She didn't hold her hand out. Barely looked at you at all. Just quickly sizing you up before returning her attention to Suguru. "Well."

Maybe Satoru was right.

"A few fans are about to drop by for autographs and a photo op," She casually informed them, checking something on her phone.

"What the hell?" Satoru scoffed. "That wasn't on the schedule."

For someone who loved attention, hearing him complain about more, even if it wasn't planned just added to the uncomfortable situation you'd gotten sucked in.

"Yeah, that was before Sukuna started the whole heartbroken rockstar act," She returned his disdain, rolling her eyes before returning to typing.

"It's fake," Suguru grumbled, and you shifted your feet, the weight of Mimiko on your hip starting to make your back ache.

"Yeah, duh."

You kept your mouth sealed, not sure if it'd even make a difference if they knew it was real.

"Anyway, you guys need some press if you want your single to compete with theirs next week," She dismissively said.

Suguru made a disgusted noise behind you, loud enough you could feel it in their bones.

Was that how he'd feel about you if he knew you were the reason for it?

"Fine," Suguru gave in, clearly unhappy with the cd signing or mini meet and greet cutting into their practice time. "Everyone should break for fifteen then, I guess."

"Whatever," Satoru grunted, walking away before anyone could stop him. Manami wasn't paying attention, going to take a small seat off the side, her dress riding up her thighs when she sat down.

"Hey, I'll be right back, okay?" Suguru leaned in to murmur, kissing your head as you nodded, overwhelmed to the point of almost being numb now. You watched him catch up to Satoru, calming or consoling him over what the hell just happened.

You only noticed Nanami watching you then, catching his stoic stare out of the corner of your eye.

Each of you carrying a kid too absorbed in their candy to pay anything else attention.

"You watched it with Suguru last night?" Nanami asked, although it didn't really feel like a question. He didn't have to specify for you to know he was talking about Sukuna's performance.

Or perhaps he was testing you, a pop quiz that you were about to get wrong.

"Yeah," You answered, a small crease forming between your brows while you tried to read his blank stare. It was funny though, the weird feeling of trustworthiness he had. Or perhaps he just had that effect on everyone.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He hm-ed, offering you nothing to go off of.

Frankly, he'd have to pay you a hell of a lot more if he wanted your real thoughts.

"Depends," You shrugged.

"On?"

"If you can keep a secret," You teased, and he actually cracked the tiniest of grins.

"You liked it?" He arched a brow, curious or cautious or some mixture of the two.

"The song, sure," You replied.

"And the man behind it?"

You froze, realizing what he was hinting at. Or rather, remembering which guitar pick Sukuna had been using last night.

Nanami knew.

You had no way of knowing how much, but at the very least, he had to be aware you knew him enough to snag a guitar pick and give it back.

"Not particularly," You neutrally said, wondering if it'd even matter if he believed it.

"Oh?" Whatever it was he was thinking, his interest was piqued. "And what about the whole heartbroken act?"

"If I liked it? Or if it's real?" You could hear the tinge of bitterness in your voice, biting your cheek now.

"If it's real," He clarified.

You heard footsteps and faint voices, Satoru finally laughing at something down the hall. You swallowed hard before answering him this time. "Yeah."

"M'sleepy," Mimiko muttered to you, her mouth stained purple as she glanced around again.

"Okay, sure we-"

"Do you mind taking them somewhere else?" Manami interrupted, her tall heels clicking against the floor as she looked at the tiny toddlers with barely-disguised distaste behind her polite smile.

"Sure," You dryly replied, cutting her a sharp look before turning to Nanako. "Come on, sweetheart, let's go find a place to nap."

"I can take them to Ijichi," Nanami offered, coaxing Nanako into standing on her own so he could take off his bass and set it back in his case. Once both hands were free, Mimiko reluctantly let go of you to follow him, still holding onto the same stuffed animal she carried everywhere as she took the hand her sister wasn't holding. He paused to look back at you, and you still hadn't decided what to make of him. "Good luck."

Or that.

But then he was heading off the stage, only interrupted by Satoru and Suguru returning.

Suguru nodded towards Nanami, pulling him aside for a quick conversation as Satoru returned with the same sour look on his face. You watched between them, wondering what exactly happened but Suguru hurried back to where you were awkwardly standing the second he finished, your arms folded tight across your chest as you tried to tell yourself this wasn't going as bad as you felt like it was.

"The girls were sleepy?" Suguru asked, his hands sliding up your arms and squeezing softly.

"Yeah," You accidentally yawned, covering your mouth as you looked up at him. "Me too, I guess."

"Come on," He chuckled, tugging you against his side and guiding you in the same direction Nanami went.

You ended up in a dressing room bigger than your bedroom two minutes later, getting dragged onto his lap on top of a couch with more suspicious stains than clean patches.

"Guess we'll have to be quick, huh?"

Suguru wanted to add to them, apparently.

Five minutes later, he had his tongue down your throat and his cock throbbing between your thighs.

"Sorry," He muttered between open-mouthed kisses, one hand under your skirt and the other under your shirt. Massaging messy circles over your clit while two fingers rolled your nipple back-and forth, groaning loudly as you grinded over the bulge in his jeans.

"For what?" You whispered, eyes closing as his thumb swept back over your aching bud, washing away the anxieties of this afternoon.

He made everything else easy to forget.

"All of that," He chuckled, his hand sliding down so he could shove your damp panties to the side, prying them off your sticky skin.

Your giggle turned into a gasp when he abruptly pushed two thick fingers inside your dripping cunt, scissoring and splitting you open with a fucking smirk on his face.

"Jerk," You muttered, but your thighs were trembling, your muscles tense as he sent shudders down your spine, pumping in-and-out with no reprieve, burying his fingers down to the knuckle and cruelly curling them until you were panting and clinging to his shoulders for support.

"Hm?" He dared you to say it again, cocking his head to the side as if you couldn't feel how hard he was underneath you, your hips trying to arch up to get a break from the intense pressure building in your core, how his fingers were practically rearranging your guts on their own.

But he was quick to hold you back down, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

"Baby," He purred, and you hated how even his condescension made him so much hotter.

"You're still a je-"

Two thick fingers pressed down on your tongue before you could finish repeating your insult, your lips closing around him as your eyes scrunched shut. Sucking his fingers the way you would suck his cock, his pretty groan almost pushing you over the precipice as he pumped his fingers deep.

The sound of the door hitting the wall made you jolt, but he subtly slipped his fingers out from under your skirt, as if it wasn't obvious what you were doing from your tits pressed tight against his chest and his fingers still shoved inside your mouth while he lazily diverted his stare towards the intruder.

You sorta expected to see Satoru standing there, lollipop tangling from cherry-red lips and a crooked grin plastered on his face at catching you two.

But no, it seemed Manami had come to collect him.

"The fans are here," She said, her voice flat and still only looking at him.

"I'll be there in a minute," Suguru dismissed her, but she didn't budge, her stare lingering as he slowly removed his fingers from your mouth, mortification setting in at the humiliating position she'd seen you in.

"I'm counting," She finally said, turning to leave without sparing you a sliver of pity. Utterly unfazed by the scene.

Was it ironic that it reminded you of the morning you caught some girl on Sukuna's lap? Or just another symptom of being lovesick and lost when it came to Suguru?

"Shit," He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is ten minutes too much to ask?"

"Apparently," You muttered, climbing off of him.

"Ijichi's watching the girls for the rest of rehearsal, but I guess dinner's at the Gojo estate," Suguru muttered, eyes closed, head resting against the back of the couch. Safe to say he wasn't exactly thrilled either. "Sorry about him, he's a little, uh, eccentric."

You nodded, something you'd been doing a lot lately.

Really, you just weren't used to any of this. Sharing this much of your life with someone, occupying their space and meeting their friends and getting close to their family. Didn't know how to navigate being someone who was half of a whole.

"I'll, uh, just head home," You muttered, smoothing out your skirt and pausing in front of the mirror to fix your smudged makeup. "It's fine."

"You could join us," He offered, but you couldn't imagine making it through an entire evening devoted to Satoru's odd father and listening to them strategizing about overtaking Sukuna's spot on the charts with a straight face when you were already about to crack.

He trusted you with his kids - couldn't you trust him with this?

The more you tried to convince yourself he'd understand, the less sure you felt. The more unsteady the ground seemed underneath you. Like maybe you'd never been standing on concrete at all. Or worse, you carving the cracks yourself, chipping away at it with your insecurities and inability to put your faith in him fully.

"I've been fighting a headache for a few hours anyway," You spoke softly, leaning over to pick your purse off the ground, digging out his car keys and tossing them back to him. You'd left your car back at your place yesterday since Suguru had been the one to pick you up, but honestly, you didn't mind just ordering yourself a ride share if it meant you could just decompress and rot in bed by yourself for a few hours. "Should probably just take a nap or something."

"Are you sure?"

He didn't want you to go, and honestly, you didn't even want to leave him, but you felt like the words 'I used to fuck Sukuna' might spill out all wrong the longer he looked at you with those dark eyes of his.

"Yeah," You nodded. Your head did hurt, but it was probably for other reasons than what he was imagining. Totting around toddlers and feeling like you had the emotional intelligence of one trying to work out what Sukuna even fucking wanted from you or why you even still cared at all anymore was migraine-inducing enough before you showed up here just to get your personal space invaded and your private life investigated.

Good luck.

You didn't know if Nanami genuinely meant it, but you obviously needed it.

What could you do?

Just confess to Suguru you weren't who he thought you were? Have to promise to never see Sukuna again or beg him to understand?

You hadn't decided by the time you made it back to your apartment to discover a small square jewelry box waiting at your door, a small slip of paper slipped under the gift-wrapped bow. Your heart deflated at the familiar sharp scrawl on it, the signature you hadn't expected.

The simple I'm sorry.

And even if you weren't a whore, you were probably a coward for ignoring your phone and staring at that stupid box a handful of hours later, sitting cross-legged on your bed and feigning interest in some stupid show playing in the background while you debated on opening it.

You should throw it away.

No, that would be bitchy. You could return it to him through Kaori and Jin though.

That would be sensible.

But if you were returning it anyway, would it really hurt just to take a little peek?

You groaned, tempted to toss the box across the room while your phone vibrated for the twentieth time tonight. You finally worked up the nerve to check that, at least, scrolling through a surprising number of messages from Suguru, slowly growing more slurred and typo-filled as they progressed. You hadn't even gotten two words into a reply when he started calling.

"Sugu-"

"Hi, pretty girl," He hm-ed, his soft purr hinting at just how many drinks might be in his system.

"Having fun with Satoru, I guess?" You sarcastically asked, fiddling with the edge of the ribbon tied around your gift box.

"Dinner was awful," Suguru admitted, although anyone could've put together that much if they had to compensate for it by getting drunk. "Satoru stormed out and decided to throw a party at his place instead."

"I take it that's where you're at?" You couldn't help your smile at his easy laughter, at how cute he sounded so tipsy.

"Didn't you get my messages, baby?" It was as close as Suguru could come to a whine, his complain soft and slow in your ear.

"I hadn't looked through all of them," You admitted, re-opening his texts and actually reading them this time.

One of his other friends had taken the girls for a sleepover tonight, and he'd sent Satoru's address twice asking you to come over before the link to an Uber driver already on the way to pick you up five minutes ago.

"You miss me that bad already?" You teased, giggling as you pushed off the bed and switched him to speaker phone, hurrying to rummage through your closet for a party dress, something short enough he'd surely fuck you until you stopped worrying about the rest of the world.

"Yeah."

No maybe.

No sign of uncertainty or doubt.

"Fine," You relented, as if you weren't already stripping down to squeeze yourself into something tighter. "I'll be there."

"I'll be waiting," Suguru smoothly replied, never missing a moment to make your heart skip a beat.

Your phone vibrated again right as you want to slip on your heels, picking it up expecting to see a notification from Suguru about the ride he sent arriving earlier. But it wasn't him.

Drunk kisses in a crowded room.

Red wine and cigarettes on his tongue, your thighs straddling his lap, his hands in your hair. He tugged hard enough to tilt your head back, his lips tracing a hungry line down your throat, carelessly leaving hickey after hickey like a patchwork of paintings. Music drowned out everyone else, the heavy thrum of guitar riff and Satoru's voice over the loud speaker the soundtrack for tonight's party.

"Suguru," You murmured, a thick dizziness clouding your thoughts, fogging your focus until he took center-stage. Horny? Or maybe the first sign you'd have a hell of a hangover tomorrow? Probably both.

"Mm," He breathed into your skin, sharp nose grazing softly as his other hand slipped underneath your dress to drag you closer, like you weren't already snugly pressed against his chest. Intimate and indecent, taking up half the couch.

"Shouldn't we go somewhere more private?" You giggled, gasping when his canines scraped against your collarbone. You squirmed, grinding harder against the thick bulge barely contained in his jeans, and his teeth actually sank in, forcing you to bite back a moan.

"Please do," Satoru sarcastically scoffed, reaching over to pinch your side. You tried to swat his hand down, but he changed his aim, poking your thigh instead.

Suguru was buzzed, but Satoru?

Sloshed.

Swearing he only had a couple wine coolers, as if anyone with a brain would believe that with the way he was stumbling, eyes glazed over and glossy lips pouting as he sipped on another bottle of something colorful with a ridiculous alcohol content disguised behind a too-sweet taste. His other arm was slung over the back of the couch, occupying the only spot next to you while he watched his best friend stick his tongue down your throat.

"I'm cutting you off," You teased, leaning over and snagging the bottle from him to take a sip yourself.

He just shrugged, a sly smile tugging up for the first time since you showed up. Maybe for the first time tonight period. "Looks better when you're drinking it anyway."

A room full of drunk party guests watching you make out was fine, but Satoru flirting with you? That was too much.

Suguru let go of your hair to grab the bottle, setting it down on the probably handcrafted coffee table already stained with water-rings before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. Ignoring your squeak of protest and smoothing down your too-short dress so it barely covered your ass, leaving Satoru on the couch and carrying you towards the hall.

"Somebody jealous?" You teased, and Suguru huffed.

"You think he wouldn't fuck you if he had the chance?" Suguru grumbled, an impatient edge to his voice.

"No way," You laughed, struggling not to giggle imagining that. Satoru was a helpless flirt, batting his lashing and pushing out his lip while he teased and taunted, but he was also clearly the kind of guy who wouldn't know what to do with a woman if she took her clothes off in front of him. Probably stammer and stutter and have to wipe the sweat from his palms off on his jeans.

"Trust me, he would."

"You're ridiculous," You did giggle now, still picturing a flustered Satoru struggling to even get his shirt off if he was in the same room as you. Anyway, Satoru had been the one pushing so hard for you two to get together after your one night stand to start with.

"And you're oblivious," He retorted with a little click of his tongue.

He turned a sharp corner to a narrow stairwell, taking two steps up at a time until he reached the second floor, the hall noticably more deserted as he continued to carry you past a few wasted makeout sessions and stoners flirting.

"Where are we going?" You poked his back just to bother him, on your own happy high for once, the fuzz that settled in your chest making the rest of you feel all warm and cozy despite your surroundings.

"Somewhere private," Suguru smirked.

It took you approximately four seconds after entering to realize he meant his best friend's bedroom.

You couldn't decide what gave it away. The framed digimon poster? The bright blue comforter? The bookshelves stocked with all sorts of mangas and movies lining half the walls?

It even fucking smelled like his cologne.

"Sugu," You started, a funny feeling twisting in your stomach, like you were a little kid again about to get caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

"He won't care," Suguru casually shrugged as he set you down, turning on a few lamps scattered across the room and switching off the overhead light. Kicking off his boots like he'd done this a billion times.

That made it worse, actually.

You supposed you weren't the first girl he brought up here at a house party if he was so confident. So comfortable to treat Satoru's room like his own.

But you swallowed it. Choked down the jealousy like it was just another bitter beer. Smiled when he picked you up again just to toss you onto the bed, slipping your heels off and letting him pull your torn tights down with his teeth next.

"Stay," He murmured, squeezing your thigh before standing. Your lips parted in protest, but you hesitated and he spoke up again. "You trust me?"

"Yeah," You nodded.

Maybe even more than you should.

He leaned down to kiss you again, the softest he had all night, delicate and tender.

Suguru was beautiful in a way that was almost painful.

He made it so easy to worship him. To suck you in until you hung onto every word that left those lips, until you spent every waking moment waiting for his touch and the rare tenderness he seemed to reserve for so few.

You were a mess. Lovesick and lost and longing for someone who was already supposed to be yours.

But the alcohol made it even more obvious.

You felt like a pet anxiously awaiting its owner, watching Suguru casually stride over to Satoru's closet, opening it and rummaging through the back until he dragged out a fucking tripod and expensive camcorder.

"Wanna make a movie?" He held it up, a crooked smile forming before you even replied.

Because he'd always known your answers in advance.

"No one else will see it?" You reluctantly asked after nodding, watching him set up the camera by the bed, peeking through the viewfinder to make sure he had a nice angle, a perfect view for whatever he was planning.

"Just us," He confirmed with a small smirk, humming to himself while he clicked through the settings.

You sat up straighter, turning to face the camera fully, a little more self-conscious now, fixing your hair with your hands and readjusting your dress even though you had a feeling you wouldn't be wearing it much longer.

He laughed at your nervousness, peering up over it at you. "You look gorgeous."

"Yeah?" You were chewing on the inside of your cheek, struggling not to hold your breath.

"Mhm," He softly murmured, hitting one last button before stepping around the tripod. "Beautiful."

And then you were watching him peel his black t-shirt off, tattoos stretching across the fine muscles of his chest, reaching out to graze your fingers over the gleaming edges in the soft lamp glow.

Skimming your hands down over his dark happy trail to unbuckle his belt, pulling it from the loops and throwing it on top of his shirt. He chuckled again, more amused this time, unbuttoning his jeans and letting you tug them down, your palm tracing over the outline of his cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. Peering up at him and pretending the camera wasn't there before when you pulled those down too.

He made everything look effortless, stepping out and kicking the clothes aside, not nervous at all to be filmed, tilting his head back and groaning openly when you delicately wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock, leaning in to lick the swollen tip of his cock.

Suguru's hands were tangled in your hair next, grabbing a fistful to guide your mouth to open up and take him how he wanted.

You were gagging on it two minutes later, his cock bumping into the back of your mouth and pressed against the roof of your mouth, struggling to take his thick girth and trying your hardest anyway, cheeks hollowed out and lewd moans escaping every time he rocked his hips forward.

Veins throbbing against your tongue, nose nuzzling against him and spit pooling around his cock, ignoring the ache in your jaw and only gazing up at him with glossy eyes.

"Fuck, baby," He grunted as you clawed at his hips, Adam's apple bobbing as his muscles tensed again. He let go of your hair to reach down and grab your throat, strong fingers flexing around your straining tendons. "Feel me in here?"

You weakly nodded, another muffled moan escaping when he squeezed just enough to make it hard to breathe.

He pulled out with a quiet groan, like if he didn't right that moment he might finish before he fucked you, but then he was pulling you up to your feet, twisting you around to pull down the zipper of your dress.

Suguru slid it off your body like he was unwrapping a birthday present.

Savoring the moment and enjoying the gift. Unboxing his new favorite toy and breaking it in.

"Been too long," He whispered in your ear, his chest to your back, his lips dotting a line down your neck. Sure, it hadn't been that long since you last had sex, but it had been a while where it was just the two of you, no one else to worry about or interrupt the moment. "I missed you."

"Missed you too," You smiled, relaxing naturally when his hands traveled over you, playing with your breasts and slipping between your thighs, teasing and nipping, taking his time to squeeze and grope you before finally laying you flat on the bed.

He readjusted you first.

Propped your head up on the pillow and splayed your hair out, wiping away a smudge of makeup beneath your eye and rubbing it off on Satoru's pillow.

He even got up to check the camera again, readjusting the angle.

You covered your tits with your arm, crossing your legs while he worked on it, but he just tch-ed, a quiet reprimand.

"Come back," You complained, pouting at the camera instead of directly at him.

"Just a second, pretty," He murmured.

You rolled your eyes at him, but your attention drifted back to his cock. Hanging heavy, so hard it had to ache, the tip pretty and pink now, pre-cum already collected there.

"Spread your legs for me, alright?" Suguru said, and your heart lurched into your throat.

Truthfully, this wasn't your first sex tape. You and Sukuna had made a couple over the years, but those were different. The sort of dumb videos where you or him just took on your phones, fast and filthy and blurry shots of him fucking you against a mirror or somewhere you shouldn't be.

This was intimate.

Drawn-out and devoted, something that meant more than just fucking jerk-off material.

You slowly spread your legs, feet planted on the bed as you propped yourself up on your elbows. You wondered if the camera captured the way you held your breath, the anticipation tinged with anxiety in the way you looked up at him, the longing in it.

"Touch yourself for me," He murmured.

"Suguru," You scoffed, but your hand was already inching down, biting your kiss-bruised bottom lip.

"Please?" He pitched his voice lower, and you groaned before giving in.

Fingers massaging your clit, muscles already tense as you tried to find a steady rhythm, closing your eyes and reclining your head back on the pillow that smelled too much like Satoru to really focus on anything else.

You felt clumsy, your circles messy, unable to make steady strokes when you could feel Suguru's stare searing through you.

Huffing at the friction, lip pushed out in a pout when you opened your eyes, glancing at the camera lens pointed at you.

"Look at me," He purred, and you forced your attention to flick up to him, his jaw tightening once you locked eyes with him.

Suguru was barely holding it together, leashing the urge to climb on top of you and bury himself in, cock twitching just watching your weak attempt to slot your fingers where his should be. But yours weren't long enough, weren't nearly thick enough to provide half the pleasure his could.

"I need your help," You whined, desperate to feel him, cheeks burning with the embarrassment of begging and core heating up because of it anyway.

You liked being beneath him. Liked being taken care of.

Knowing you were his - that he wanted you to be.

The mold you thought you had to fit didn't matter anymore. He sliced through all the shields you spent so long building, broke down the bricks you'd been hiding your heart behind. And part of you was still on standby, ready for repairs the second he slipped up, but it was getting easier to believe he wouldn't.

"Aw," He chided, and even his mocking was infuriatingly cute. Your heart skipping a beat when he climbed on the bed, the mattress creaking under his weight until he was on top of you.

"Asshole," You murmured, unfortunately not meaning it at all, blushing as he kissed you again.

Open-mouthed and heated, swallowing your needy moans when his hand brushed your aside to slip between your thighs, immediately shoving two thick fingers inside you. His cock was pressed into your thigh, and you could feel it throb when he felt for himself just how soaked you were.

"Call me that again, and I'll fuck yours," He dryly said, halfway between a tease and a threat, eyes narrowing like he hoped you would. Unlike you, he usually meant what he said.

Your lips parted to test your luck, but then he crooked his fingers deeper, and nothing would come out, just sharp gasps for air, brain blanking under the unrelenting force of his fingers. Thrusting hard and fast, curling his calloused fingers until you were crying out his name, eyes shut tight and hips arching up off the bed.

"C'mon, sweetheart," He hummed, smirk settling on his face watching you fall apart on his fingers, his thumb tracing far more effective patterns on your sore and swollen bud than you ever could. "Say it."

And another day, you probably would've. Would've giggled and bit back, grabbed his cock and teased him until he couldn't take it anymore and fucked you stupid in whatever hole he wanted.

But the alcohol had loosened you up, your head fuzzy and light for once while the rest of you was so warm and he felt so right, that the wrong thing slipped out instead.

"I-I love you," You breathed.

Three words you could hardly believe were leaving your mouth, but falling out anyway, the sort of truth that just spilled from you, too stuffed full of his fingers to keep it inside.

He paused, buried deep enough you could feel the metal of his ring rubbing against your skin, hair hanging down, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face as it set in for him.

You loved him.

Brushing his thumb over your lips as if he could capture the promise. There was no taking it back, not when you both knew you meant it.

He softened.

The storm that was always going on behind his dark eyes settling, an almost imperceptible smile curling up on his own lips before he kissed you. There wasn't biting or sucking, just a slow kiss that stamped his name on your heart.

It probably would've been the most romantic moment of your life.

Until Satoru stumbled in through the door.

You both turned at the first creak, but it was too late for either of you to cover up, both naked in his sheets, his camera on and blinking to capture you getting finger-fucked by your boyfriend.

Suguru didn't react, not really, just leaning down to brush your hair away from your ear before whispering in it. "Wanna test that theory?"

And God, you couldn't help the way the thought made you squeeze around him, cunt answering before you could. Your unsure gaze landed on Satoru just to find he was staring, blue eyes glinting with enough nervous energy to power a small city. Something in your chest pulled tight, intangible and impossible to ignore, swallowing the heart-sized lump in your throat before nodding.

You shouldn't.

It was a bad idea.

Terrible, even.

You had just told Suguru you loved him, and you were about to have a fucking threesome with his best friend. It could just be more proof he felt the same, the fact he was confident enough in your relationship to let him have even just the tiniest taste of you.

But there was the sneaking suspicion he just wanted to show off the fact that you were in love with him to Satoru too.

"If you want to, just ask," Suguru tsk-ed, burying his face in your neck to suck hickies down to your collarbone.

"S'toru," You gasped his name, glancing over still clinging to Suguru's shoulders as a third finger slid in to join the other two.

He was staring hard, his mouth hanging open, and you were pretty fucking positive he was drooling, a raging hard-on barely contained in his pants. "Y-yeah?"

"Are you coming over?" You whined, head tilting back to let Suguru's canines scrape harder against your throat. "Or are you just gonna stare?"

"Shit, fuck, okay, I mean, sure," He rambled, scrambling to strip his clothes off, shirt first and jeans quickly following. A surprising tattoo ran near his happy trail, a little giggle escaping you before he pulled his boxers down, and the sight of his cock shut you up.

It was longer than you expected, not quite as thick as Suguru's, but it had a pretty curve to it, a shade of pink that almost matched his lips.

Your boyfriend pulled his fingers out of you, but he popped them in his mouth instead, sucking it clean while he threw an amused gaze over to his clearly flustered best friend.

"You can't cum inside her," Suguru said, more stern than you expected.

"Okay, okay," Satoru eagerly accepted anyway, sitting on the bed next to him, his eyes flicking from one body part to the next like he couldn't decide where to look.

"What do you think, baby? Wanna show him how pretty you look cumming on my cock?" Suguru murmured, flipping you around easily, manhandling you until you were on your hands and knees.

Satoru readjusted too, positioning himself in front of you so you had to face him while Suguru spread your thighs apart from behind.

Fingers prying you apart, admiring you for a long second before you felt the tip of his cock start to edge in. You tightened in anticipation, hips wiggling back before he gripped one tight, sinking into the soft flesh.

You barely stifled your moan, nervously holding Satoru's excited gaze as he got closer, your stare flicking to the swollen tip of his cock in front of you.

Were you really about to let them to spitroast you? On camera?

Fuck.

The thought was enough you clamped down on Suguru harder as he pushed past the first ring of resistance, listening to him groan and imagining him gritting his teeth as he sank into your heat.

Satoru shuffled forward, and your mouth was already opening, ready to wrap around him and let him get laid for once, but Suguru spoke up, the sound of his honeyed voice making both of you hesitate. "Did I say you could fuck her mouth?"

Sometimes you forgot just how mean Suguru could be.

Satoru had to fuck his fist in front of your face instead, your lips permanently parted in broken moans and weak whimpers while Suguru fucked into you with rough thrusts, bottoming out with every harsh snap of his hips against your ass.

And as hot as he sounded on stage, it was wildly different to hear him in bed, moaning with you and watching his best friend give you the best fucking back shots of your life, thick fingers nimbly stroking your clit like it was an instrument he was a professional at playing while he pounded into you.

The headboard was banging into the wall with the force of it, and all you could do was hope the music downstairs was loud enough to drown out any noises the three of you were making.

Satoru's pale fingers were fast, sloppy, really, collecting the leaking pre-cum as lube as he roughly palmed his cock. Jaw clenched and watching you through hazy eyes, breathing through his nose as Suguru purred dirty nothings in your ear, teasing both of you for how wrecked you were.

"Jus' a little longer, alright?" Suguru murmured, leaning down so his chest was once again on your back, kissing your hair. It was soothing, despite how taut and tight the rest of you felt, forcing yourself to relax and cling onto your sanity for a few seconds more.

You nodded, choking out a mmph while his cock just grinded so nice and snug against your cervix, like he was right at home. He pressed more kisses to your shoulder, sweet ones that lingered even after his lips moved.

"So good for me, baby," He groaned, digging his fingers into your hip, the ones grazing over your clit pausing to apply more pressure. Your brain had turned to mush, melting into whatever mold he wanted it to. "Isn't she pretty, Satoru?"

"Fucking gorgeous," Satoru grunted back, although, it was so mangled and mumbled together through his grinding molars you could barely make it out.

You weren't faring much better.

Honestly, you didn't think you could form a word at all after Suguru fucked them out of you. You could barely feel your limbs, only held up his strength, squirming and gasping in time with his thrusts.

"Can't talk?" Suguru teased, knowing your body well-enough to recognize the tremble in your thighs, the shakiness in your breath. Careful to never cross the line, but bring you right to the border.

He chuckled at your attempt to reply, a choked-out whimper considering his cock felt like it was lodged in your lungs.

And then his fingers crested over you aching clit at just the right spot, massaging practiced circles that had you seeing constellations, cumming and unraveling so fast you almost forgot you were on camera.

"You're okay," He purred, dark and low and dangerous. "That's my girl."

You were clawing for something, anything to steady yourself, somehow accidentally grabbing Satoru's though, while you came undone.

Who, uh, proceeded to finish on your face.

You didn't even think he meant to, warm spurts of white cum hitting your (open) mouth and covering your cheeks while you let out a strangled yelp of surprise. Blinking up at him glossy-eyed just to see he was staring at you the same way, his cock still in his hands and leaking cum out on the bed as he gaped at what he just did.

Even if it wasn't being filmed, you were pretty sure he'd remember the image of you covered in his cum while his best friend fucked you for the rest of his life.

You were only half-aware of Suguru cumming, brain barely registering his groan as you felt something damp leak down your thighs too. Fucked out and literally filled up, you guessed.

You'd have to remind him to buy a morning after pill tomorrow.

Suguru's hand traced over your ass, holding you up still despite your shaking limbs, exhaustion clawing it's way into your bones.

"Cut the camera, Satoru," He muttered, sounding tired too.

"Sure," Satoru sighed, standing up. But not before dragging his thumb across the cum still sticking to your face, drawing a line with it over your lips, and you weren't sure what exactly he was wishing for. "Care if I make a copy?"

"Ask her," Suguru shrugged.

He flipped you onto your back, scowling at Satoru's cum all over your face and sighing.

"How do I know you're not going to like, send it to anyone?" You managed to ask, your voice a little raspy and raw still.

Suguru snagged some tissues from the nightstand, wiping your face as clean as he could get it while Satoru pressed a few buttons on the camcorder.

"Pinky promise?" Satoru proposed, pouting at you a few feet away.

"Fine, but I will literally cut your dick off if any of that footage sees the light of day," You threatened, not feeling very tough when you could barely move a muscle.

"You're not threatening Suguru," He complained, plopping down on the bed next to you and brushing a strand of hair away from your face. Suguru pushed his hand back before he could finish.

"We both know he doesn't like sharing," You shrugged.

Satoru was probably the only person who knew that as well as you.

Wherever he went, it was Suguru's show.

Your boyfriend smirked, just a small one, a coy little tug of his lips up at your back-and-forth. He grabbed another tissue, cleaning your lips off again. "You sore, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," You hummed, and it was obvious he was just feigning his apologetic smile, that he wasn't the least bit sorry for fucking you so hard. He tossed the tissues in a nearby wastebasket, running his hands back over your body, pausing to squeeze your tired thighs.

"Can I get you anything?" He cocked his head the side, searching your face for any lasting discomfort like Satoru wasn't still next to you.

"I'm okay," You yawned, pushing off your palms to sit up, and he immediately pulled you into his lap. His skin was still damp, sweat sticking to his muscles without any clothes on.

He didn't mind the cum still dripping down your thighs, given that it was his, pressing your head into his chest to kiss the top of it a few more times.

Being with him wasn't like anything else.

Sore hips and an aching jaw and the feeling in your gut that this moment wouldn't last forever but wished it would anyway. Studying every detail and line of his sharp jaw, the flecks of color in his eyes and every shadow of his face.

If Satoru wasn't here, you'd probably tell him you loved him again and hope to hear it back.

"When I told you guys to get a room, I didn't mean mine, by the way," Satoru scoffed behind you, and when you turned around, he still wasn't dressed.

"You didn't seem to mind when you were cumming on my girlfriend's face," Suguru reminded him, reluctantly untangling from you.

Perched on the edge of the bed while he stood again, picking up his discarded clothes from the floor to put them back on. You watched his tattoos flex, staring at his muscles as he pulled up his jeans and boxers first before tugging his t-shirt back over his head.

"Where was I s'pposed to cum?"

He really could be an idiot.

Suguru shot his best friend a sharp enough glare to shut him up, but the silence didn't last very long before Satori was speaking up again. "Are you mad at me?"

You weren't sure which one of you was playing the clingy girlfriend anymore after that line.

"It's fine," You mumbled, trying to ease the growing tension, although it was much more awkward than angry while Suguru tied his boots back.

Suguru pulled out his pack of cigarettes from his pocket along with a lighter you gifted him a couple weeks ago, but Satoru huffed. "You can't smoke that in here."

"I know," Suguru rolled his eyes, glancing towards you to gesture towards the door. "I'll be out front for a few minutes."

"Sure." You glanced back towards your own rumpled clothes before nodding. "Just, um, come find me afterwards?"

"I'll be yours for the rest of the night," He reassured, and he had the sense to at least check through the crack that no one was in the hall before stepping out and shutting it behind him.

Satoru picked up your clothes, round the bed to hold them out for you.

"Here," He mumbled, staring at the floor instead of your tits, and it seemed all that cockiness and confidence disappeared with Suguru.

"Thanks."

You tried to smile, but it felt forced, unsure of how to just act friendly when he was the reason there was still the faint taste of salt on your lips.

Hurrying to get your panties back up your thighs and shimmy your dress back up, you struggled to get the zipper until you felt a hand on your waist to hold you still. "Um, sorry, uh, let me help."

He quickly pulled the zipper up, letting go of you just as fast and stepping back like he wasn't sure where the boundaries were drawn now either after Suguru had turned the line into more of a squiggle.

"Thanks again, I guess," You awkwardly laughed, fixing the hem of it and trying to forget the fact Suguru's cum was collecting in your panties while you padded across Satoru's floor to snag your heels.

He watched you slip them back on, his lips parted and the words strangled in his throat.

"That was, um, fun," You smiled, hand on the doorknob already. "But, seriously, I will maim you if that gets out."

Satoru smiled back, all big and cheeky, running his big hand through his unkempt hair, and really, if you only looked chest-up, you could probably believe in that playboy image they kept trying to peddle for him.

"You can trust me."

And strangely enough, you were starting to.

Slipping back out into the hall, you hardly recognized anyone by the time you made it back to the living room. Friends of friends, a few faces you'd seen in magazines or commercials, all sorts of people who probably had barely spoken more than three sentences to the band before.

More people had shown up, packed in too tight for comfort. You were sweating already as you shuffled through the crowd, squeezing between people until you found a door leading out into an open backyard.

He must've hired a gardener, or someone who specialized in landscaping, pretty stone paths and flowers decorating the wide lawn.

You didn't go too far from the house, just a little ways down the path so it'd be easier for Suguru to find you.

But it seemed someone else spotted you first.

"You didn't text me back."

You didn't turn. Didn't look. Why would you when there was no need to?

Somewhere in the back of your brain, you'd already recognized his presence, maybe just the sound of his steps or some subtle change in the air.

"What do you want to talk about?" You hated how hurt you still sounded before you even saw him. His unopened gift was still left at home in its box, begging you to take a peek so he could shove himself through the crack and back into your life.

"Us," Sukuna insisted, like there had even ever been an us.

"I don't want to fight with you anymore," You mumbled. You were tired of it. Exhausted for clawing and clinging to any shred of comfort and control.

"Do you think I want to?" Sukuna asked, and he was closer now, probably just a step or two behind you, but he hadn't reached out yet.

"Yeah," You deadpanned.

He thrived in chaos. In the push and pull you two had been stuck in for years.

"I'm not here to fight with you either," He sighed, exhaling hard.

You did turn now, throwing a suspicious glance back at him before twisting, arms folded across your chest.

"I just," Sukuna stopped himself.

"You just what?"

"I'm sorry," He grunted, and despite everything that has happened tonight, this was the moment that made you question if it might've all been a dream and you were really dozing off back in bed.

But no, it was really him, dark circles bruising his eyes and a tight frown on his face as he clenched his jaw, every muscle tense as he stared through you.

"I miss you."

"Do you?" You echoed, blinking at him hard. Or was it just the sex he missed? The fact that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted and you'd still wait for him to come back to you?

You looked back to the house, searching to see if Suguru or Satoru would come out and catch the uninvited guest speaking to you, but Sukuna immediately noticed.

"Are you here with him?"

"You know I am," You muttered back. His face hardened as he bit down on the inside of his cheek.

"Boyfriend just taking a smoke break?" He scoffed.

You weren't sure if he was mocking you or Suguru. Either way, you didn't reply, sucking on the inside of your cheek and glancing down at the grass.

"You let him kiss you." It was more of a statement than a question coming from him. A sharp assessment.

When has he even seen Suguru kissing you? On the couch? Or earlier?

For some stupid reason, it felt like the world paused. No bugs buzzing or birds chirping, just a heaviness hanging in the air between you and your heart stalling in your chest.

"What?" You choked out.

"Don't you hate the taste?" He was skirting around what was actually bothering him, but then again, everything involving your boyfriend bothered him.

"You used to smoke too," You weakly mumbled, not sure where to look.

"I quit," Sukuna countered with a pointed frown. "Because of you."

"Yeah, sure," You dismissed, swallowing the spit pooling in the back of your mouth like it'd help digest that tidbit.

"I'm serious."

You could handle him being a dick. Could tolerate his impatience and disdain and all around awful attitude.

But this new serious Sukuna?

You were clueless.

"As if I could ever control anything you did," You argued. If you could, you wouldn't have had to bail him out twice before you even made it through college. Wouldn't have put ice packs on his black eyes or bandaged split knuckles when he got into bar fights.

"You didn't like it," He simply said. Plainly reciting a fact.

"Is that supposed to prove you like, love me or something?" You said it to scare him off, stun him the way he was last time.

But he didn't flinch.

"I always have," Sukuna grunted, not even hesitating a second. You stepped back, but he wasn't done. "I do."

"Funny that you decide that now," You mumbled, fiddling with your fingers and picking at your cuticles to calm yourself.

"Look, I know I'm an idiot and a huge fucking asshole, but I'm working on it, okay?" He admitted, the gravel him his voice not doing much to hide the panic in his words. The lump in his throat bobbed hard. "I can't lose you."

Just in general? Or to Suguru?

"Sukuna," You sighed. "I'm not leaving him."

"I know," He grumbled, frustrated. The anger simmering behind his eyes threatened to burn you too, but he was still keeping everything contained, carefully choosing every word for once instead.

There was some undertone to it that you didn't want to stare too hard at. The way he looked at you like he still thought Suguru would crush your heart, that it was just about sex or something that would end with you in pieces he had to pick up.

"Then what do you want from me?" You bluntly asked, begging him to just say it out loud.

"You said we could still be friends," He reminded you of that little fact as if it was some vow you swore to keep.

"You want to be friends?" You repeated incredulously.

"Just don't cut me out again," He grunted, not a hint of a smirk or snide smile on his face. It was as close as he could come to vulnerable. Eyes focused on you like there wasn't a huge fucking party raging on fifteen feet away.

"What about Suguru?" You asked.

"What about him?" He grumbled, barely stopping himself from scowling just at the mention of his name.

"I don't think he's going anywhere any time soon," You huffed. This wasn't something he could squeeze himself between. Not something you'd let him ruin.

"I know," He repeated again, thick brows furrowed together.

"What if we get married? Have kids? You'll be fine just being friends?" You tested, waiting to see if he'd snap under the tension.

But he held fast, stealing another step closer.

"I can't not be in your life."

You hesitated. Making up with Sukuna meant you'd probably have to confess to Suguru what sort of relationship you had before. But surely, Suguru would accept it - he already accepted everything else about you.

"Whatever issues you had with him before, you'd apologize to him? Play nice?" You reluctantly asked, glancing back towards the house again as your damp panties stuck to your thighs, plastered with the reminder of whose you were now.

"Whatever you want me to do." It was more of a grumble than groveling, his voice still rough, but you were stunned to realize he really meant all of it.

You never expected him to beg for you back.

But it was even stranger seeing him so sober about everything.

The regret etched into his face. Disappointment sinking in when his stare caught into the love bites littering your throat. His jaw shut tight as he grinded his molars.

"Did you watch the show?" He eventually asked after a thick pause, but his words didn't cut through the air, just added more weight to it.

"I heard your song," You admitted, although you hadn't worked up the courage to listen to it a second time, to dissect every line and turn it over in your head until you couldn't stand it anymore.

You didn't know what else to say. Call it beautiful when you just found it haunting? Tell him you liked it when it fucking hurt? That every word and wish stung?

Sukuna glanced over his shoulder, glaring at whatever he saw there before turning back to you.

"I meant it."

He looked at you one last time before heading back towards the front door without another word, eyes softer, lines crinkling beside them before he left you. You realized why a second later, a familiar head of white hair bounding in your direction, throwing a wary glance at Sukuna when they crossed paths.

Your (former?) best friend didn't acknowledge him, just barely brushing past his shoulder to head inside and probably leave. You had a feeling if you weren't here, Satoru might've tried to stop him, to drag him into a confrontation about crashing his party. But his current concern was you.

"What'd he say?" Satoru huffed the second he was close enough, but it was softer than you expected. Just a little surprised, searching your face for any clues. "Was he bothering you?"

"No, not really," You shrugged, and his shoulders almost immediately sagged with relief. He nodded his head towards a little swinging bench tucked under a tree nearby, before taking your wrist and tugging you towards it.

You briefly considered protesting before giving in, plopping down next to him with a sigh.

"That's good," He mumbled, and you tried to distinguish why from the pull of his brows, the slight squint of his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Suguru probably would've punched him if he saw him talking to you," Satoru chuckled to himself, scratching the back of his hair.

Your stomach churned.

"Seriously?" You asked, hoping he didn't catch the way your breath hitched.

"He fuckin' hates him," He nodded, and you noticed the new wine cooler half-empty in his other hand.

"Just because of the band stuff?" You tried to sound innocent, like you weren't just fishing for more information. Rivalries were one thing, but the contempt hinted out in seething comments and sincere scowls was a little much.

"Nah," Satoru shook his head. "They actually got into a fist fight a couple years ago."

How the fuck had they both left out that little detail?

"About what?" You gaped.

"Dunno," He shrugged. "Wasn't in the room when it started. Suguru never told me."

"Oh."

Just how fucked were you?

"My dad covered it up, helped bury the story, y'know, since we were still starting out and everything, said it was safer that way," He dryly repeated his words, but it just left an acidic taste in your mouth.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, shocked that Satoru was capable of clamping his mouth shut that long while you pulled over the facts.

Suguru and Sukuna hated each other.

Sukuna said he loved you. Your boyfriend hadn't. Yet.

Would he after you admitted you warmed his rival's bed for the past few years? Would Sukuna even really apologize for whatever part he played in pissing him off?

A pre-hangover headache was forming behind your eyes, the pressure building in your skull when you looked back over to Satoru.

He was lost in his own thoughts, probably replaying some other scene from today in his head, his stare focused just on some random bush, unblinking.

"You wanna talk about it?" You asked, swinging your feet and glancing up at the stars glittering in the sky overhead.

They were pretty out here.

Bright and eye-catching, the kind you could pick out constellations and planets in, no clouds or harsh city lights to snuff them out. You bet Satoru would know them. Could probably trace them out and explain however many light years away they were.

Another night, maybe, one where he wasn't wasted and mentally a million years away himself.

"About what?" He casually shrugged, kicking his feet off he ground to make the swing go higher.

"Tonight," You guessed, but the second it slipped out, you wished you could shove it back in watching him wince.

"It sucked," He muttered, before realizing you might misinterpret it and immediately backpeddling. "Not you, fuck, you were perfect, I just meant-"

"I didn't really do anything," You still smiled despite your churning stomach, a small giggle slipping out at the panic sweeping across his face.

"You're here," He casually said, like it meant much more to him. Then he sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes. "I was just, uh, talking about dinner."

It was bitter, disconnected, as if even the idea of it was some cruel joke.

"Yeah, your dad was, uh, a kind of-"

"Insufferable," Satoru finished your sentence for you with a scoff. "A pompous prick who thinks he can pay anyone off."

You laughed a little, his bluntness comforting in its own weird way.

"We're all just stupid pawns to him," He muttered under his breath.

What was there even left to win when he was clearly already filthy rich?

You didn't comment, just listened to him ramble while you studied the stars some more, a cold breeze passing by and making you shiver as a few leaves fell from nearby trees.

He noticed.

Satoru set his drink down, peeling the new sweatshirt he was wearing without even asking if you wanted it. Just handed it to you, thick and oversized with some goofy character printed on the front. You still pulled it over your head with a soft laugh.

"Thanks," You murmured, grateful for the warmth.

"Of course," Satoru grinned, and it was the easiest smile you returned tonight.

He cocked his head, his bright blue eyes squinting before his cheeks flushed red. Nervously, he pointed at a loose strand of hair by your face.

"Um, you got a, uh, little something," He started saying, about to reach out and get it before hesitating as you realized what he was talking about.

Oh.

"You can get it," You suppressed another laugh. It was his fault it was there after all. If he noticed though, you sincerely hoped Sukuna hadn't.

Satoru swallowed hard before his fingers delicately started combing through it to get the dried cum out, mumbling under his breath. "My bad."

Then a camera flashed.

Seeing you in person almost hurt more than not seeing you at all.

But he'd take the ache over your absence any day.

By the time Sukuna showed up, you were drunk and dancing between his two least favorite people. Stomach sinking despite knowing it's what he'd see since he got that stupid wasted text from idiot number two an hour ago. That you'd be here - with him.

Watching you from across the party absorbed in someone else, another man's hands tugging on your hair and mouth on your throat. Sukuna couldn't hear your soft gasps and giggles, but he didn't need to. He'd heard them enough to know what sort of sounds you were making for him.

A stranger offered him a drink - something that would dull tonight's blunt edge. He didn't take it, but by the time he looked back up, your boyfriend had thrown you over his shoulder to carry you away.

He felt fucking sick.

Trying not to imagine Suguru Geto stripping the pretty little dress off you or bending you over one of the beds upstairs, shoving down the memories when that used to be him fucking you until you were a shivering mess underneath him, his name on a loop from your cute lips.

Now?

He had to force himself to to walk away from you after barely talking before he made an even bigger fool of himself. Or risk somehow hurting or humiliating you more than he already had.

Despite every raw nerve and burnt senses begging him to turn around and drag you out of here with him, to convince you to give him a chance. To show that he could do anything your Suguru did better. To repair your relationship. To buy you bouquets and get your name tattooed or whatever stupid shit you wanted to show you he meant every word he said.

But that was part of his problem before, wasn't it?

Doing everything his way? Refusing to see you outside of himself? To actually appreciate what you wanted and not just what he thought the two of you had?

None of that made it any easier to drag his eyes off of you when you were the only person worth watching.

So much so that he found himself still sitting in his car parked out front and staring at your boyfriend. Who was too busy taking a drag from a cigarette when he could be with you.

What the fuck did he have that Sukuna didn't?

Sukuna glared at him through the tinted windshield, frowning at the cocky way that asshole was reclining back against the brick wall, a pretentious little furrow between his brows like he was mulling over something painfully important. Like what? New ways to rip off his lyrics? What shampoo to buy?

He hated him.

Always had. But all the old reasons had faded.

It wasn't just about their stupid band being stacked so unfairly against him from the start, propelled to popularity with money over work. It wasn't about him and his idiot friend crashing his show years ago the way he was currently crashing their party now. It didn't even have to do with the dumb fight they'd gotten in after he called them out on being wasted dickheads who just wanted to get paid and laid. Suguru had said something snarky back and then Gojo chimed in with an even stupider remark and sure, Sukuna had punched first, but they deserved it.

Suguru might've been too drunk to remember the details, but Sukuna did.

Lately, he'd been wondering what you'd think of you knew pushed him over the edge. If it was too little. If he was too late.

And maybe, if he'd mentioned it a few months ago, would you have ever entertained him at all?

At first, he'd tried to tell himself he was fine with you sleeping with Suguru. That it didn't bother him who you had sex with. Some guy sleeping in your bed for a couple weeks couldn't change your relationship. You were his from the start.

Except you weren't. Never really were.

So what really made Sukuna seethe?

Knowing that you'd wake up next to Suguru tomorrow. Probably spend your mornings curling up against his chest and yawning, all bleary-eyed and blinking, tracing over his tattoos with your fingertips. He'd kiss the top of your head and you'd play with his hair. Climb on top of him or let him throw his leg over you, cage you in and keep you close.

Did Suguru even appreciate that? Did he ditch you even then to go take a drag?

Sukuna wished he had memorized every moment when he had the chance, hating himself more with every replay of all the hazy mornings where the sun had just barely started filtering through the windows and you were too sleepy to pull away from him yet.

Remembering the one time you looked at him all dreamy and dazed, lips pressed together when you joked about needing to buy him a leash the morning after you dragged him out of a bar fight. He'd punched a guy who tried to stick his hand up your dress, and you'd kissed his split knuckles while you rolled your eyes at him.

He vaguely recalled buying you breakfast and bitching about it, annoyed at the time over how not annoyed you were about almost being groped. But the thought faded when you pulled him into some pawn shop afterwards, laughing when you found a shiny silver locket with a delicate S engraved, teasing him about finding him a collar.

He bought it just to watch it bounce around your neck instead when he fucked you. That was a couple years ago though, before you let go of his leash entirely.

Sukuna ended up with it in the end. Forgotten on his dresser at some point in the past year. He couldn't even remember the last time you wore it. There was a photo inside. One of you two back in high school, dressed up for a dance he wasn't even your date to.

He kept it in.

Had started wearing it around. Letting it hang over his heart under his shirt. Some invisible line connecting the two of you, even if you wished it was severed.

Did you even open his gift? He guessed he wouldn't blame you if you didn't. You weren't wearing it tonight.

But then again, your boyfriend probably wouldn't appreciate you wearing something he gave you.

He was too distracted to notice the commotion until a flash of pink got his attention, the street too dark to make out much else other than a person hurrying down the driveway. And then they turned left, disappearing between the cars and the treeline.

Gojo came running out ten seconds later, clearly panicked, and Sukuna chuckled to himself watching the way the white-haired man froze at the end of the driveway, squinting and swiveling his head both ways to figure out where whoever he was chasing went.

He laughed out loud when Gojo chose wrong and went right.

Everything felt a lot less funny when you walked out the front door two minutes later, searching for Suguru and obviously distressed.

Something seized tight in his chest, a painful string snapping at the way you were chewing anxiously on your bottom lip, eyes big and quivering when you said his name. You were wearing Gojo's stupid sweatshirt, and you looked like theirs.

Suguru's entire demeanor changed, his face soft all of a sudden, a hand on your waist to pull you in, probably asking what was wrong.

This was masochism.

Knowing every touch and tender look you gave each other was a fresh wound and sitting there to take it anyway.

Pure torture to watch you lean on him, the implicit trust in the way you tilted your head up and talked. You let yourself rely on him, dependent and starry-eyed like he had all the answers you were always looking for.

Then Suguru was caressing your cheek, dragging his thumb over the bone to comfort you over whatever upset you, but it was clear what you told him had pissed him off. You didn't seem to notice though, too distracted by his hands to pick up on his clenched jaw and hardened stare as he glanced past you around the front lawn.

Gojo was jogging back, sweat and sticks in his hair and equally frustrated as he walked over to where you were standing.

Sukuna knew he should leave. But the whole scene was strange.

You were still upset. Your boyfriend was looking at his best friend like he was contemplating hitting him. Gojo looked like he'd fell in a bush.

But then you frowned and picked a twig out from the tangled white strands for him and whatever tension there was between the three of you seemed to dissolve, Suguru sighing and saying something to Gojo before gesturing back inside.

He felt like opening his car door and puking to watch you disappear through the door while one of Suguru's hands slid down to cup your ass.

Knowing he'd have to look at his fucking face and say sorry instead of giving him a second black eye. Knowing you'd go back to his place or maybe take him to yours so he could fuck you in the same bed Sukuna had a hundred times before.

Shatter his pride into a million pieces and offer it to you on a silver platter just for the tiniest sliver of a chance you'd take his heart too.

He needed help. Or a therapist.

Probably both.

Choso would tell him he deserved it. Uruame would tell him to move on. Yuki would laugh in his face. He could call Jin, complain about it for the millionth time. But as much as he loathed to admit it, Kaori knew you too. And wasn't as clueless about women as Jin.

She's probably tell him all of the above and then some, but what the fuck else were his options?

How was he supposed to be a better man when you were the only redeemable piece of himself? What was left when you were gone?

The idea he'd just be some page in your history book made him insufferably ill.

Sukuna didn't want to just be a story you told your kids about.

He wanted to be the father.

You hoped Sukuna hadn't checked the news this morning. Or for the next week. Perhaps the entirety of the next news cycle actually.

There were things that came with knowing a celebrity. Good ones, of course. But plenty of bad too.

Public perception. Loss of privacy.

You'd been careful.

The spotlight was for them. Not for you.

You were just more comfortable in the background, behind a camera instead of in front of it. Even if you'd let Suguru show you off on one.

Years you spent avoiding the nastier side of the music scene when you were with Sukuna. Only hanging out with the type of backstage crowd who wouldn't let anything get leaked. Concealing your online presence and never posting photos with your face or his in them. Locked down every social media profile to close friends only.

Sukuna had once tried to convince you to model for some cover art for their first album (which you'd suspected at the time was just so they wouldn't have to pay for a model or photographer), but you'd declined for the same reason. Why the fuck would you want to deal with crazy fucking fangirls?

You'd seen it happen a few too many times. Sukuna would get spotted a little too intimate with a gorgeous girl, pictures would spread around until some internet sleuth found her profile and she started getting borderline stalked.

Honestly, you'd barely even let Suguru post any photos of you. Double checking that those didn't have any identifying information either before he shared them, usually just ones of your hand in his or some odd body or background shot.

You'd told yourself that it was okay. That it was serious with him. That you'd learn to live with your face and name being out there eventually. Because he'd protect you. Be happy to show you off and still keep your relationship safe at the same time.

Suguru was the exception.

But when you woke up in Gojo's guest bedroom to a picture of you splashed on a hundred news articles before the clock even hit eight?

You were second guessing every idiotic decision you made last night.

The photo was bad enough. What the fuck would you do if a copy of the sex tape got leaked?

People were already speculating whether or not you were Gojo's new girlfriend and pointing out that you were wearing his sweatshirt. An alleged insider who was at the party claimed they heard you having sex in Gojo's room.

The comment that pissed you off the most?

Someone suggesting the faceless girl Suguru had been posting was Manami since she was the only woman they'd ever been spotted with more than once and that maybe Gojo got jealous and wanted a girlfriend too.

Theory after theory and not a single one close to the truth.

The whole thing smelled like one big set up. Or some convenient coincidence you were sure the universe has conceived specifically to fuck you over.

Your stomach dropped reading the vitriol in the comment section. Jealous girls and grown women calling you a slut among other more creative insults. A few of them were nice. Excited and sweet over the idea that their favorite band member might have a girlfriend.

But what did either sides' bullshit matter when the story being peddled wasn't even true?

"Suguru," You muttered, shaking him awake next to you.

"Hm?" He blinked, already trying to tug you back into his chest, to pull your head down so you'd go back to sleep.

You huffed, tapping his chest and shoving your phone in his face.

It was exactly what you'd said would happen last night, despite both of them reluctantly trying to reassure you that they'd find a way around it. Suguru seemed upset, but he didn't really say anything. Just brushed it off with promises that he'd handle it.

Both of you probably had too much to drink to make any immediate decisions anyway.

He sighed as he sat up, taking his phone to stare at the photo for himself.

It looked worse than you thought. Gojo's attempt to get dried cum out of your hair looked more like he was about to kiss you on camera when you were already sitting close together. It really didn't help that you looked like you'd just been fucked, hair a little messed up and his sweatshirt reaching past the hem of your dress, makeup smudged under your eyes.

"Shit," Suguru groaned, passing your phone back and grabbing his own off the nightstand.

"His dad can still get this, like, removed, right?" You asked, discomfort bubbling up, anxiety starting to boil while he started tapping buttons on his phone screen.

He held up his hand, signalling you to stay quiet while he held up the phone to his ear. You were on edge, chewing on your nails while they briefly argued about the merits of getting the photo and articles removed. Going back-and-forth for a few minutes while Suguru tried (and failed) for them to push for the news sites to take it down.

Gojo's dad was loud enough you heard almost every word he said. For better or worse.

"Sorry if my son tried to flirt with your girlfriend," He laughed and it felt like it was at you. "Or was she your babysitter? But you know, either way, this is great news for us. One of those articles already has over ten thousand hits."

How the hell would he know that if he didn't have access to the backend of it?

Your jaw was on the floor, staring at Suguru in shock, waiting for him to say something.

"She's my girlfriend," Suguru corrected him, his voice raspy and harsh, still thick with sleep. There was no way he hadn't picked up on it. The admission of guilt by association.

Maybe he hadn't been the man behind it, but he was more than happy to keep pushing the narrative that helped him the most.

"Well, it'd work out better for everyone if she kept acting like she was Satoru's for the time being."

Like you were some toy for them to trade.

"I am not pretending to be his girlfriend," You hissed at your real boyfriend. "What the fuck?"

Suguru shot you a look. A 'please play nice' one he usually saved for his daughters.

"Can you wait a couple of minutes so I can talk to her?" He sighed into the speaker.

It wasn't a conversation. Not a discussion or debate like you were choosing what to eat for lunch. You weren't going to participate in whatever charade they were trying to drag you into.

It'd be different if the photo was you and Suguru. A simple statement would've sufficed. You'd let him claim you any way he wanted.

But faking a whole fucking relationship with his best friend was insane.

"Baby, I'm not asking you to-" Suguru tried to soothe you, his hands still cold as they reached out to graze against your forearms.

"Good, because I'm not," You interrupted him to reiterate your point. A painful mix of panic and anger was being stirred in your stomach, like the dread was quickly setting concrete that refused to crack.

How the fuck was he so collected? Shouldn't he care just a little fucking more?

This whole thing was a mess of a slippery slope. First, they'd ask you to fake dating him, and then what? People either broke up or got married. You weren't walking down the aisle with your boyfriend's best friend - and the amount of hate that would pour out post-breakup would be brutal. Especially since they'd seen your face. You probably only had an hour before someone found your name just from a single grainy photo.

There was no way to win.

"I do think that he has a point though," He countered, as if that would be just gently letting you down. "You know I'd never make you do anything you're not comfortable with. But maybe it's not a bad idea to just, y'know, stage a few more photos to get press back on us and Satoru can dismiss everything as rumors at our show next weekend."

"Why can't they just take down the photo that's already out now?" You frowned, like you didn't already know why.

They just didn't want to.

The press drove sells and kept their pockets lined.

Who cared how you felt about it?

"More people would probably talk about us taking it down than if we leave it up," He calmly explained. It just made you feel crazier. Watching him try to rationalize it being for the greater good. Treating this like it was some problem to be solved instead of talking about how terrified it made you feel to be so out of control. "It's shitty, and I hate it too, but-"

"I didn't sign up for this," You muttered, pieces of your rationality continuing to chip away. You didn't want to rely on anyone except him. Didn't want to put faith in people who'd fuck you over for a few bucks. "I just wanted you."

"I know," Suguru sighed, pulling you in to plant a kiss on the corner of your mouth like that could make up for the fact half their fanbase thought you were dating his best friend and he didn't even seem to mind it. "I'll message Manami to see if she could find out who released that photo."

Your scowl only deepened at him mentioning her. It wasn't even like you could tell him not to talk to her when she worked for him.

"I don't trust her," Or even like her, period.

"She takes her job seriously," Suguru said, like it didn't sound like he was supporting her over you when you needed him to be on your side.

"Oh, great," You sarcastically muttered, thinking back to how she basically pretended you didn't exist except to shoo you away. The way she only looked at Suguru, as if you were just something inconsequential.

"What?" He cocked his head to the side. Sometimes you forgot he was just a man.

You stared at him for a hard second before it set in that it wasn't even that he believed in her. It was just that he'd already ran through every scenario in his head and came to his own decision on the best solution without your input.

"What do you want from me?" You bluntly asked.

"Can you trust me to take care of this?" His lips curled down, clearly not sure how to navigate whatever this weird argument was.

It was the closest you'd come to fighting.

You wanted to say you trusted him last night to take care of it when you asked him to call whoever he had to do your face wouldn't be all over the Internet in a day and plastered on the cover of some grocery store magazine in a week. That you thought he'd stand up for you a little more despite whatever his contract was.

But surrendering to Suguru was almost second nature.

"Fine," You grumbled.

"Thank you, baby," He hm-ed, a glint of approval in his eyes you hated you searched for.

Approval you guessed you were signing yourself away for to get without even touching a record deal.

You didn't know why you showed up to their show.

You'd barely been speaking to Suguru outside of texts and a handful of calls after work all week. But he'd promised that everything would be fine after tonight. That Gojo would say something. Fix this.

It was hard to face him. You'd been struggling for excuses. But really, you just didn't know how to deal with the fact you were so invested in him that it made you uncomfortable.

Pulling away so you didn't have to deal with your attachment.

No one had recognized you in public yet, not that you'd been anywhere outside of work, although you had gotten a ridiculous amount of messages from other people you'd met through Sukuna in the music scene, mostly consisting of screenshots and question marks.

You really didn't know what to say to any of them.

The hole in your life you'd been pretending didn't exist just got more obvious by the day. Maybe it was seeing him at the party, or staring at the jewelry box on your dresser every night, but sometimes, you sort of wished you could still talk to Sukuna like you used to. The way you had a couple years ago, when the two of you would watch bad movies and he'd burn the popcorn while you complained about all the little things that went wrong, when if someone was a dick to you, he'd just go key their car and you'd bail him out if he got caught.

But those nights hadn't existed in a long time. Your relationship had expired, and you weren't sure what kind of friendship with him you could keep up.

He shouldn't be on your mind still when you were supposed to be supporting your real and fake boyfriends' show, but he'd stolen the stage anyway.

Two seconds after you walked through the back entrance, you were almost blinded by someone waving a press badge, a bright camera flashing in your face.

"Hi, you're Gojo's girlfriend, right?" A chirpy girl in a band tee asked, probably some tabloid reporter.

"Excuse us," A guy chuckled, and you were being tugged away, still half-blind from the the flash until you blinked a few times and realized it was the man of the hour.

"Why the fuck hasn't security kicked them out?" You hissed at Gojo, pulling your arm free from his grip.

"She's Manami's friend," Gojo gritted his teeth, the only person who seemed as irritated with this whole situation as you were. He noticed the way you stiffened at her name, his own jaw tight. "My dad refuses to let me fucking fire her. Trust me, I've tried."

It was almost funny. The start of this was sort of his fault but he'd somehow managed to be the closest thing to an ally you had.

"Is she like, fucking him?" You asked, before clamping your lips shut remembering what a sore subject they both seemed to be.

"What's better job security than sleeping with your boss?" Gojo sarcastically muttered back.

A laugh slipped out, the first one all week.

"Yeah, guess you're right," You recollected yourself, grimacing as you noticed people stopping and staring when the two of you walked by, whispering between each other. "Where's Suguru?"

"Tuning his guitar," Gojo shrugged. "He said you'd be here soon. I was trying to keep those vultures away from you."

"Thanks," You smiled, wondering what other shit he typically had to put up with for him to feel so protective over you.

"Did he tell you she tried to ask him out once too?" Gojo scoffed, grabbing onto your dress to pull you closer when a guy carrying stage equipment came by. Your hip brushed against his side, back pressed against the wall while you waited for him to walk past.

Gojo's cologne was too sweet tonight, almost cloying as you struggled to suck in a breath.

"No, um, he didn't," You admitted, hoping you didn't sound too downcast at your suspicion being confirmed.

"The three of them have been going back-and-forth about what to do all week," Gojo continued to chatter, a conversation that he rightfully assumed Suguru had been too busy to have with you. But the impression it really left you with was the not-very-discreet detail you and Gojo were more like pawns for them to play with in the public eye. "My dad's trying to convince me to go out there and dedicate the song to you or something stupid like that."

Two songs dedicated to you in a week was more than you could handle. Especially if neither of the men serenading you were your boyfriend.

"What are you going to do?" You asked, holding your breath and hoping for an answer that wouldn't screw you over.

"What do you want me to do?" He cocked his head to the side, asking the same question you'd said to Suguru a handful of days ago.

"Whatever will get everyone to leave me alone," You admitted, crossing your arms over your chest, unsure what to do about the painfully tight feeling stretching across it. "It's not you, it's just, I never wanted this. The attention, I mean."

"You're dating a rockstar," Gojo pointed out. He wasn't trying to be an asshole, just making a simple observation, his casual grin replaced by a curious stare.

"Yeah, but I'd still like him if he was just like some guy I met at a bar," You muttered. "The rest of the world doesn't need to know about our relationship."

"What would you think about me if I was just some guy in a bar?" Gojo grinned back to his usual unbothered behavior.

"I'd still think you're a dork," You rolled your eyes, but you felt your own lips twitching up into a smile.

"A hot one at least?" He hopefully asked.

It would probably break his brain to know you probably would've fucked him if you met him first.

"You know if you keep flirting with me people really will start thinking we're dating."

Suguru found you before Gojo could make some cheeky comment back, immediately tugging you in by your waist and twisting you around for a hug.

Funny how the camera was only around when it was Gojo.

"I'm glad you came," Suguru hm-ed into your ear.

You tried to be too.

Tried not to pick at your painted nails when he pulled you onto his lap in the dressing room. Tried to pay attention instead of fiddling with a tear in your tights before he ripped them off. Tried to keep your thoughts on him when he was trailing kisses down your throat.

"Are you mad at me?" He murmured in your ear, teeth scraping against the shell of it.

"No," You quietly replied, gasping when his canines drifted down to scrape against your collar one next.

"You've hardly said anything," He commented, frowning as he pulled away to look at you.

"Just have a lot on my mind, I guess," You shrugged.

His hands on your hip tightened, fixing you in that serious stare.

"So tell me," He deadpanned.

"I just feel awkward," You admitted.

You wanted to be cool about it. To still pretend to be the same nonchalant girl you'd convinced yourself you were when you met him.

But it just didn't feel possible anymore.

You told him you loved him. Had a threesome with his best friend. And now all of his fans were convinced you were in a secret relationship with the wrong guy.

"I told you I'll take care of it," And he hadn't said he loved you back.

"I know," You muttered.

"So don't worry."

"Can we talk after the show?" You quietly asked, letting him support your weight more, straddling his thighs and getting more comfortable as he nodded, lips still grazing over your cheek.

You needed to tell him about Sukuna. Even if it might strain things more, you needed at least one less thing on your brain. You'd somehow managed to talk yourself into thinking it wouldn't be that bad. Just telling him the guy you mentioned you used to sleep with was really his rival. But sugarcoating it with a million promises that you'd broken it off and that Sukuna swore he'd apologize for whatever happened between them.

It wasn't like you expected them to be friends.

But a sentimental sliver of you was clinging to the chance you and Sukuna could get a tiny sliver of that friendship back.

"Something else wrong?" He chuckled, no serious concern or anything behind his eyes, more of a quiet comfort in them.

"No," You shook your head.

"Then just try to relax for me, okay, baby?" He kissed you again, on the lips this time, soft and long and soothing. One of his hands slipped under your dress, shoving your damp panties aside to slot a thick finger inside your warmth, a small smirk curling up at how wet you already were for him. "That's my girl."

Easier said than done.

You were still stressed by the time they were walking on stage, despite his attempt to finger you stupid.

Watching the slick still on his fingers when he strummed his guitar. The crowd was insanely loud, bigger than any you'd ever seen for any of Sukuna's show. Gojo was gripping the microphone, smiling out at them like he was made for this moment.

Someone settled into the spot next to you, and your small glance turned into a scowl once you realized it was Manami.

You didn't have any proof. But the small seedling of suspicion she had some hand in distributing the photo so far and spreading it so wide was enough that you took a deliberate step away from her.

She already splashed you face on the front page of every gossip site.

What else could she do?

You wondered if Sukuna would throw a brick through her window if you asked. Or what he thought of all of this. He probably got a few texts asking about you too.

Manami didn't say anything to you either way.

But you noticed the way her shoulders straightened when Suguru glanced over, the smile she plastered on, all pretty and professional.

You almost missed Gojo's little speech.

"-happy to have all of you here with us. We're going to be performing a special song for you at the end tonight that I'd like to go ahead and dedicate to a very special someone," Gojo paused for dramatic effect, and your stomach fucking sank the second he glanced over to where you were.

He hasn't promised you anything, but it has felt like it, hadn't it?

Your feet froze, panic probably scrawled all over your face. You could feel Manami's eyes on you, her smug grin.

"Think I should bring her out guys?" He hm-ed into the microphone, controlling them with just a few words. The crowd shouted, and he took the first step towards you.

Your stare shifted to Suguru, pleading with him to do something, but he was looking at Satoru, and you couldn't even tell what he was thinking.

Gojo grinned at you. You mouthed you were going to kill him.

But then he was only two feet away, and you started to shrink back, but it wasn't your hand he grabbed. No, he snagged Manami's, dragging her on stage much to her surprise.

It only took a second for her horror to turn into a practiced beam, waving at the crowd like she'd known he'd do this.

Gojo was saying something again, showing her off with an arm slung around her shoulder, happily praising her as their publicist when he'd called her a bitch a week ago.

Suguru cut you a sly look, but you still weren't entirely sure if he'd known what Gojo was planning either.

Manami scattered off stage in her too-tall heels the second his arm was off of her, huffing past you in a hurry to tattle-tale to his father. And with a suggestive wink sent her direction, Gojo had probably killed any rumors about the girl he'd been seen sitting so comfortably with a handful of nights ago.

His dad showed up just a few minutes before the show was over, just in time to hear their single - and see all the girls in the crowd going crazy for them.

"You think they'd be grateful," The older Gojo scoffed when we walked up next to you, not quite as tall as his son up close, but twice as intimidating. His blue eyes were colder, raking over you disapprovingly. "You should be too."

You didn't dignify him with a response.

Gojo delivered their new single with his usual charming slow singing, something catchy but not obnoxious. What would sound good on a radio rather than the sort of raw vocals Sukuna sang in. Heavy on the guitar and drums. Suguru would look over every so often, bangs loose and plastered to his face, eyes narrowed and serious as he held your stare, seductive without trying.

Reminding you that Gojo might've announced to everyone it was for Manami, but it was really written for you. Proof you were person he chose.

It didn't break your heart the way Sukuna's did.

But it didn't exactly patch you up either.

The crowd left wanting more - and you did too.

Watching the guys wave and thank them while they laughed at something Gojo said, watching Suguru shrug his guitar over his shoulder as he walked over to you, waiting for something you couldn't name.

Suguru had only gotten one arm around you before they were all getting scolded.

"What the hell was that?" Gojo's father hissed, and suddenly, you felt like you were five again, sitting at a friend's house and watching them get yelled at by their parents.

"It's not-" Suguru started talking, polite and put-together, ready to rework the odds back onto their side and repair whatever had been broken by protecting you.

"A great show," Gojo interrupted him and laughed, his normal voice hoarse after singing for so long.

"Are you a fucking moron?" His dad glared at him. You stepped closer to Suguru, looking up at him just to find him stone-faced, resigned like he was just waiting his turn. Tied to a megalomanic with not just money, but time. Suguru had once mentioned he'd met Gojo when they were kids. How many of those years had spent under the thumb of this absolute asshole?

You felt like you shouldn't be seeing this side of Gojo.

Nanami and Haibara slipped away while he bore the brunt of the verbal abuse. Satoru got interrupted every time he tried to speak up, and you just shrank into your boyfriend's side.

"Not only did you squander this opportunity, but did you even stop to consider how Manami felt?" His dad snarled, like dressing up the word wasted into something slightly fancier would make his point any more valid.

Manami's feeling's mattered. Yours didn't.

"She's not the one whose feelings I give a shit about," Gojo snapped back.

"I think you should go," Suguru leaned down to murmur apologetically to you. "I'll call you in a couple hours, okay? We can talk about whatever you want."

"Oh."

You wished you'd looked back when you left. Got another glimpse of him to hold onto so you would have something to think of instead of staring at your bedroom ceiling a couple hours later.

He hadn't called yet. Your social media feed was split between all the men who loved nothing more than to make a mess out of your life.

Maybe it was boredom. But you found yourself gravitating towards the box still sitting on your dresser.

Suguru wasn't there to invite you to a party to stop you from opening it.

You didn't really know what you expected. The last time you were holding one of those, it had his guitar pick inside.

Definitely not a pretty charm bracelet that had to cost him at least a few hundred, if not a grand.

It was already filled, delicate and detailed charms dangling down from the metal. It only took you a minute to realize they weren't random either.

He had to have picked them out himself. Your favorite flower. A landmark from a city you dragged him to after you came for one of his concerts. Memories and moments you'd forgotten about jingling every time they knocked into each other.

You didn't even know what all of them meant, a few you guessed you'd have to ask him about.

An ugly sob wanted to fall out, and you couldn't even figure out why. Just choking it down with the rest of the uncomfortable emotions you'd been stewing in.

Setting the bracelet back down like it was infectious instead of sacred, dropping it onto the soft cushion and falling back onto your bed, your phone sliding into your thigh.

Whatever had possessed you to open the box had you opening your browser, searching for the interview you missed before.

Your night already sucked. Why not make it worse?

It was mostly filler talk. Yuki distracting the audience with her casual chatter and perky smile, happy to be the center of attention despite the fact the host was dying to ask the question on everyone's mind.

Who knew the song was about them?

And out of all of the night's surprises, Sukuna's answer was probably the biggest one of all.

"I fucked everything up with the only person that matters," He grunted, his massive frame making the armchair he was in look tiny in comparison. "She knows it's her. Only ever gonna be her. It's not anyone else's business."

He refused to answer anything else.

Why would he?

The message was just meant for you.

But the comment section was more insane than the one about you and Gojo. Entire threads speculating what he'd done, who would ever leave him, how fast they'd fold and go back after that song.

Was this what Gojo's dad was aiming for?

The kind of engagement that just sucked people in effortlessly? Chasing after what Sukuna just naturally exuded? Casually cool without trying. Commanding an audience that supported him without a second thought.

God, you were even sitting here and considering calling him.

You wanted to blame it on him, but your fingers were pressing the button too fast for you to come up with a proper excuse.

It didn't even ring.

"Hey," Sukuna forced the word out, and you could hear the surprise in his exhale.

Something inside you crumpled at the sound. Some small piece of your heart crippled by how much you just needed a friend right now.

"Hey," You echoed.

"Are you okay?" He grunted, his voice even gruffer than normal. You couldn't help but be curious if he'd watched someone live streaming the show. If he heard their new single to. Knew it was another song about you.

"Why wouldn't I be?" You heard yourself say, as if he was just another stranger now, one that'd buy whatever lies you tried to sell.

"You're calling me instead of your boyfriend," He reminded you.

"Things are just kinda weird right now," You confessed.

"Is he being a dick to you?" Sukuna immediately asked, all gritty and gravelly.

"No," You huffed, and you couldn't help but fall into the old habit of being brutally honest about everything except him. "I'm pretty sure their publicist wants to fuck him. And Gojo's dad is a freak who wants me to fuck his son."

Sukuna laughed, and you'd forgotten how comforting that could be.

"That prick was there?" He half-groaned, and the idea of him actually knowing the guy was a little funny to imagine.

"He wasn't exactly happy with how everything turned out," You muttered, avoiding the subject of him shouting at his son and unsure why you were keeping secrets for Gojo.

"And what about you?" Sukuna grumbled.

"What about me?" You questioned, chewing on your bottom lip.

"Are you happy?" He bluntly asked. And with just a few questions, he was trying to prick all the pointy edges of your pain you'd been trying so hard to bubble wrap.

"Yeah," You answered, although you already knew he'd see through you.

"I miss you," He simply said, choosing not to call you out on your bullshit for once.

"I miss you too," You admitted. "I mean, being friends, y'know, back when everything wasn't so-"

"Complicated?" He suggested with a sigh when you paused your backtracking.

"Sure," You breathed.

You'd always known where you stood with him, at least.

"I haven't told Suguru about you," You mumbled. Your lip was bleeding from how hard you bit it, iron on your tongue.

"Why?" He laughed, but it was sarcastic this time. Kinda sad. "He'll probably be fucking thrilled."

He didn't have to elaborate.

Just fucking you would be fucking Sukuna over.

"I just want him to want me for me," You shrugged to yourself, pulling your knees up to your chest.

It was easier to say this sorta stuff to someone who wouldn't have to bear the weight of you admitting it. If you said the same thing to Suguru, he'd be obligated to make you promises that he might not even mean.

Sukuna would just tell you the truth regardless of how it made you feel.

"He'd be brainless not to, baby," He scoffed, and you could tell he hadn't even meant to call you that, a slip of the tongue after so much time not talking.

"Thanks, I guess," You laughed, soft and quiet. "And thanks for the bracelet. It's beautiful."

"Kinda thought you'd throw it in the trash," He gruffly said, like he wasn't the tiniest bit pleased.

"I considered it," You confessed.

"I still can't fucking stand the guy, but uh, my therapist thinks I should apologize to him anyway, so just tell me when, alright?" He grunted, so deep and low it took you a few seconds to stitch together what he actually said and then make that make sense in your mind.

"Your what?"

"Kaori referred me to one of her friends," He grumbled.

"A therapist?" You echoed.

"Yeah," He huffed.

"That's, um, great," You blinked. "Seriously."

How the hell had Kaori convinced him to get a fucking therapist when she was about to kill him half the time?

It was inconceivable.

Sukuna was a brick wall. The kind that couldn't change, no matter what paint you slathered over it. But this was the sort of thing he never would've done a year ago. Would've scoffed and rolled his eyes at you for bringing it up six months ago.

But him willingly choosing this? Without even being threatened or coerced?

You had to confess you wanted to believe in him. Wanted him to be better even if it hurt that he only healed without you there.

"Maybe, um, we can get dinner together sometime," You hesitantly suggested, swallowing what scraps were left of your pride and knowing you'd have to tell Suguru now.

"Yeah?"

"The three of us," You added.

"Sure," Sukuna dryly chuckled. "The three of us."