#𝐤𝐚𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐱 .☘︎ ݁˖

[rosy-hollow]

｡ﾟ•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ꒰ა ʚɞ ໒꒱ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈• ｡ﾟ╰┈➤ @osxmuu ⦂ PLEASEEE make hunger games bakugou! 》 ✐ᝰ girl you don't even gotta ask 🤭 ╰┈➤ part one! ｡ﾟ•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ꒰ა ʚɞ ໒꒱ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈• ｡ﾟ

The fuck—get the hell off of—mmph!”

You cut off the disgruntled blond with a panicked hand over his mouth.

“Are you crazy?! Do you want to get killed?” you hiss, gripping your dagger tight enough for your fingers to ache. Your eyes lock onto his, filled with as much murderous intent as you can muster.

But could you really kill him?

Even now, with your heart hammering so wildly it drowns out your thoughts, the reality of kill or be killed refuses to settle in. The one thing you do know?

This tribute is dangerous.

The boy from District 2 —Bakugou Katsuki— goes still, sensing your hesitation.

Then, in a blink, you’re flung backwards.

Your back slams into a tree, bark scraping against your skin, the impact rattling your bones. You bite your tongue to stifle the cry threatening to spill.

You can’t afford to make a sound.

Bakugou rises with ease, dusting himself off like your ambush was nothing more than an inconvenience. You, on the other hand, are frozen—paralyzed by both pain and the suffocating weight of fear.

He steps closer, eyes flickering over your body with amusement.

This was too easy.

But then—he stops.

He should’ve finished you off by now, but something in your eyes makes him hesitate. A strange glint- an edge he recognizes all too well.

Because he’s seen it before.

In his own reflection.

Intriguing.

He tries to recall what little he knows about you. Truth be told, he never gave a damn about Career alliances. He never needed anyone to survive.

But even he had his flaws.

Flaws he couldn’t compensate for alone.

And you… maybe you could be useful.

He squats down, leveling himself with you, red eyes sharp with something unreadable. His grin spreads wide—feral, canines flashing.

You let out a shuddering breath, clenching your dagger like a lifeline.

Because right now?

It is one.

Bakugou snorts, utterly amused that you think you stand a chance.

“Relax, sweetheart.” His voice is low, almost mocking.

“I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

[rosy-hollow]

｡ﾟ•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ꒰ა ʚɞ ໒꒱ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈• ｡ﾟ╰┈➤ @lillycore ⦂ Hey! Can I request something else with Sukuna? Maybe collage au , where Sukuna is in college for engineering, but reader doesn’t go to university and instead focuses on being a freelance artist , but sometimes she sneaks into some of Sukuna’s courses with him? 》 ✐ᝰ YIPPEE MORE SUKUNA!! (sorry i cut out all the parenthesis for space purposes 😭) ｡ﾟ•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ꒰ა ʚɞ ໒꒱ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈• ｡ﾟ

No one’s really sure when you started showing up to Sukuna’s engineering lectures.

As far as most people were concerned, you’d always been there—like you materialized out of thin air and effortlessly became part of the atmosphere.

But honestly, no one minded.

You arrived alongside your pink-haired boyfriend, and the two of you had an interesting dynamic. The two of you being highschool sweethearts, he had mellowed out over the years - most likely because of you. However, you working as a freelance artist gave you both endless time... and absolutely none at all.

While Sukuna was out at university, you’d spend hours sitting in your apartment, sketching on your tablet—a gift from him, of course. You loved it. But, no matter how much you adored your work, being alone in your apartment without quickly grew... depressing.

So, one day, wordlessly, Sukuna dragged you to one of his lectures. Without asking, he pulled out the chair beside him, muttering under his breath that you should “Behave.”

You shrugged, popped in one earbud, and settled in, drawing quietly next to him. Sukuna listened to the lecture and took notes diligently; you? You lost yourself in your art.

It didn’t take long for the professor to notice a new face in his class, though it took even longer for him to realize you were, in fact, not a student. It was when Sukuna casually asked a question about compression ratios that the professor caught sight of you humming softly, your stylus moving fluidly on your tablet.

The professor didn’t know what to do with you. But, honestly, you weren’t a distraction, so he decided it wasn’t a huge deal.

And that was how you became the honorary student in Sukuna’s Solid Mechanics class — despite not having the faintest idea what half of it meant.

It didn’t make you stupid, though.

“And so you see, as per this graph—”

Your hand shot up, and the professor paused, glancing over at you in mild surprise, as if he hadn’t expected you to speak up.

“Yes?” he addressed you calmly.

You frowned a little, twirling your stylus between your fingers. “I think there’s a part of the graph missing in the key... the green squiggly bit? It’s kind of vague about what the graph’s actually trying to show... If I’m out of place, just let me know, but would something like this be better?”

You held up your tablet, showing your version of the graph—redrawn in a clearer, more digestible way.

The professor blinked, clearly taken aback as he read over the graph. He let out a short, impressed huff. “This is quite impressive—did you draw this yourself?”

You nodded sheepishly, and the professor’s expression softened, a genuine smile crossing his face. He tapped Sukuna’s notebook, already prepared to speak to him.

“You get this sent to me, yeah? And Sukuna—” He glanced over at your boyfriend, who was now watching you with that familiar pride in his eyes. “You found yourself a good one.”

Sukuna met your gaze, his lips curling into a small but proud smirk as he leaned in to kiss your temple.

“That’s m’girl.”

A/N: is it obvious i know next to nothing about engineering

[rosy-hollow]

｡ﾟ•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ꒰ა ʚɞ ໒꒱ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈• ｡ﾟ╰┈➤ @lillycore ⦂ OH OH, since you’re requests are open, can I request high school au with sukuna (established relationship) where he asks reader out to prom and what they’d do there? 》 ✐ᝰ UHM YES?? I LOVE YOU THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE HEHEH

｡ﾟ•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ꒰ა ʚɞ ໒꒱ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈• ｡ﾟ

If you ranked Sukuna Ryomen on a list of the classiest men alive, he’d be dead last.

You knew that when you started dating him. Hell, you’d been together for two years now, so if his lack of finesse bothered you, you wouldn’t have stuck around this long.

Which is why you weren’t even surprised when, in the middle of some random conversation, he just told you that you’d be going to senior prom together—like it was already a given. No asking, no buildup, just a casual declaration.

Because in his mind?

It was a given.

It was just a stupid dance, anyway. No need to make a big deal out of it.

Right?

God, he was so wrong.

Now, standing outside your door, waiting to pick you up, Sukuna feels something entirely foreign settle in his chest.

Nerves.

It’s almost pathetic, how anxious he is. Not even during high-pressure games does his heart race like this. At least then, he’s in his element.

This? This is uncharted territory.

Loving someone—hell, even dating someone—always seemed like something that happened in theory. Something that happened to other people.

But he didn’t just love someone.

He was in love with you.

So utterly and completely in love that the very idea of being without you makes him feel like a dead man walking.

You, with your pretty face and knowing smiles. The way your laugh makes his heart do annoying things. Your witty comebacks, your sharp tongue.

You make him feel alive.

And ironically, the second the door swings open—his heart stops.

You are breathtaking.

To be fair, you always are, but—god.

"Holy shit."

He doesn’t even realize he’s said it aloud until you giggle, stepping forward and shutting the door behind you.

Sukuna suddenly feels very grateful you insisted on matching outfits, because with the way you look right now—he’d be damned if you looked like anything but his.

Just the thought makes his feel strange - a good strange - inside.

You’re his.

And he’s yours.

“I… wow,” he mutters gruffly.

You hum, stepping closer, tilting your head in amusement. Teasing him.

“Is that a good ‘wow’ or a bad ‘wow,’ ‘Kuna?”

A large, warm palm finds the small of your back, pulling you in, his lips brushing over yours.

“Definitely good,” he murmurs, before pressing his lips against yours—the first of many tonight.

Some might call you a miracle worker for convincing Sukuna to actually drive to the venue. Because if he had it his way? You’d be heading straight back to his place, where he could have you all to himself.

It’s cute, honestly. The way he grips the steering wheel like it’s the only thing stopping him from devouring you whole. Like if he so much as looks at you for too long, he’ll lose whatever shred of self-control he has left.

You, on the other hand, have no such limitations, happily being the passenger royalty you are.

So you drink him in—the way the streetlights cast shadows across his sharp features, how insanely handsome he looks in his suit.

You were just as whipped as he was.

Just... better at hiding it.

When you arrive, the entrance is already packed with familiar faces, student IDs in hand, waiting to be let in.

Sukuna steps out first, then, to your delight, makes his way around the car to open your door for you.

You giggle at his rare act of chivalry, taking his outstretched hand.

Inside, the venue is stunning—twinkling lights, lavish décor. You definitely have to congratulate your friend on the prom committee for a job well done.

Sukuna, however, could not give less of a shit.

Because while you’re admiring the decorations, he’s admiring you.

The soft, awed expression on your face is worth more than any stupid floral arrangement.

When you glance back at him, his eyes are warm—softer than they ever are in public.

You smile, leaning in to kiss him again, and he happily obliges, though it takes everything in him not to pull you flush against him and forget the whole damn dance.

When you pull away though, there’s a mischievous glint in your eye.

Oh no.

“‘Kuna~?” you draw out, sing-song.

He groans. He’s screwed.

“Will you dance with me?”

Sukuna just stares at you blankly.

“Fuck no.”

“Pleeeeease?”

Oh, fuck you and your stupid puppy eyes and your perfect face and your perfect everything—he can’t say no to you.

And that’s how he finds himself standing in the middle of the dance floor, awkwardly shuffling while you happily bop along to the music, grinning like this is the best night of your life.

It goes on like this for a while—your poor, hulking boyfriend completely out of his element, staying only because he loves you.

Then—suddenly—the music shifts.

The bass-heavy beats fade, replaced with something slower, softer.

Sukuna’s eyes widen slightly as yours light up.

You step toward him, all soft smiles and adoration.

You bow teasingly. “May I have this dance?”

Sukuna clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes. But there’s no real bite. “Ain’t I the one who’s supposed'ta ask ya that?”

You hum as he tugs you closer, his arms encircling your waist, your own draping around his neck. “Maybe… but I like to keep you on your toes.”

He lets out a rare, genuine laugh before kissing you again—deep, slow, tender.

He rests his forehead against yours, voice lower now, softer.

“That you do.”

Your eyes shine, drinking in the way he looks at you.

“And unfortunately for you,” you tease gently, “I always will.”

Sukuna snorts.

“You’re a little shit.”

But you both know he doesn’t mean it.

A/N: AHHHHHHHHHH (that's it, that's all I have to say)

[rosy-hollow]

"𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞..." - 𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐧

｡ﾟ•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ꒰ა ʚɞ ໒꒱ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈• ｡ﾟ

╰┈➤ 「 » 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 » 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚜 » 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 » 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚜 » 」 ᝰ.ᐟ

｡ﾟ•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ꒰ა ʚɞ ໒꒱ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈• ｡ﾟ

╰┈➤ 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞: ⎸ minor ⎸ violinist ⎸ singer ⎸ model un ⎸ enfp ⎸ pans ⎸ gemini ⎸ ambivert ⎸ earthbender ⎸ ravenclaw ⎸ cabin 13 ⎸ fruit addict ⎸ chronically online ⎸ 𝜗𝜚

» 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 》 ⌗ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 ɞ˚‧｡⋆ | ⌗ . ݁₊ ⊹𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𖬺 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 . ݁˖ . ݁| ⌗⋆｡‧˚ʚ 𝐤𝐚𝐞'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ɞ˚‧｡⋆ | ⌗ 𝐤𝐚𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐱 .☘︎ ݁˖

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