#uraume - why is he so casual about this?!

[epickiya722]

It is so funny to me that Uraume laughed at Yuji with Sukuna over how "pathetic" he looked (in 215) and then not too long after that (presumably) Sukuna tells them about Kenjaku having birthed Yuji after hooking up with his reincarnated twin and Uraume is just like "Ah, crap" while Sukuna acts like it's no big deal.

Look! In 257, Uraume sweats!

[cuntyji]

CUPID'S DUMBEST SOLIDER ౨ৎ RYOMEN SUKUNA X READER

summary: ryomen sukuna, king of the school and reigning bad boy extraordinaire, has one rule: prom is for losers. but apparently, his too-good-to-be-true girlfriend (seriously, what are you doing with him?) thinks promposals are cute. so now he’s stuck planning the most over-the-top, cringe-inducing spectacle known to mankind. armed with zero artistic talent, a ton of misplaced confidence, and multiple dumb ideas, sukuna’s on a mission to prove that he’s boyfriend material. will he survive the humiliation of public vulnerability? will his classmates ever stop laughing at him? and more importantly, will you even say yes after watching him trip over his own ego mid-promposal? spoiler alert: sukuna might hate prom, but he doesn’t hate you — just don’t tell anyone or his bad boy reputation is toast.

warnings & tags: all characters except yuuji are high-schoolers [aged eighteen]. 100% sfw and crack. lots of high-school and social media related drama. sukuna is ooc but he's a loverboy. slight angst, misccommunication and misunderstanding, reader gets bullied. mentions of drugs & vaping. reader is sort of preppy [only when compared to sukuna], implied stsg and tomema. mentions of: yuuji, choso, gojo, geto, shoko, nanami, toji (zenin), naoya, yorozu, mei mei, uraume, mamaguro, wasuke itadori, mai and maki zenin.

a/n: i'm writing this because i'm thinking about my last year of highschool a lot. please enjoy <3

‼️i recommend reading on ao3 :) thank you for being here!

chapter one: love at first “you’re kidding, right?”

prom sucks. 

sukuna's decided this long before he even knew what it was, back when he was a kid and thought dances were just for the weak. now? the banners are inescapable, plastered on every wall like wanted posters, except the only crime being committed is how much glitter they used. seriously, who thought this level of sparkle was necessary? he doesn’t even want to look at them, let alone read the overly enthusiastic “prom countdown” in bold bubble letters.

but here’s the kicker—you’re excited. 

you. his girlfriend. the only person he’s ever willingly given his jersey to, the one he pretends not to care about but secretly loses his mind if you’re even five minutes late to meet him after practice. you’re actually grinning at the posters, casually mentioning how it might be “fun.”

fun. the word leaves a sour taste in his mouth, much like the time he accidentally puffed on his teammate’s fruit-flavored vape, pretending he didn’t low-key enjoy it. and now, just like back then, sukuna refuses to admit the truth: the idea of seeing you all dressed up, looking at him like he’s worth more than a fistfight and a bad attitude, is enough to make his brain short-circuit.

“you know,” you say one day, glancing over your shoulder at him as you tug on his sleeve. “prom doesn’t have to be a big deal. it’s just one night.”

“then why’s everyone acting like it’s the olympics?” he mutters, shoving his hands in his pockets. he keeps his eyes firmly on the ground, not on the way your smile softens like you already know what’s going on in his head.

because of course you know. you always know. it’s annoying.

but the thing is, sukuna’s always been a fighter. he knows how to take a hit, how to deliver one back, how to keep moving even when his ribs feel like they’re cracking under the pressure. this, though? asking you to prom? it feels like trying to fight blindfolded in a ring full of glitter bombs.

“you’re thinking too hard about it,” you tease, leaning closer, and he has to resist the urge to snap back with something sarcastic. instead, he just grumbles something incoherent, hoping you’ll drop the subject.

spoiler: you don’t.

“come on, it might surprise you,” you add, giving him that look—the one that makes his chest feel annoyingly tight and his brain feel like it’s melting. and just like that, sukuna knows he’s doomed. he doesn’t even know how you managed to turn this whole thing around, but here he is, contemplating how to ask you to prom like it’s some epic quest.

but for now? he’ll just keep glaring at the posters, convincing himself it’s all for you. definitely not because he’s secretly imagining what it’d be like to see you under those stupid lights.

yeah. that’s it. it’s for you.

why is sukuna losing his absolute mind over asking you, of all people, to prom? it’s not like you’re some untouchable deity perched on a golden throne. you’re just you—the one person who’s seen him shirtless and sweaty post-practice and didn’t immediately gag. the one who has the audacity to call him “cute” after he’s just finished smashing someone’s face in and honestly? he still hasn’t forgiven you for that.

and yet, here he is, spiraling like a damn teenager—which, fine, he technically is, but that’s beside the point. this isn’t just prom. this is war. but why does it feel like he’s already lost?

he doesn’t even know when this whole “you and him” thing started. 

oh wait. yes, he does.

cue the flashback: sukuna, bloody and bruised, crouched in an alley after picking a fight with college kids who were built like linebackers. he was sure this was it. the end. game over. then suddenly, you appeared, haloed by the sun.

or maybe that was just his swelling eye playing tricks on him.

“are you seriously bleeding again?” you’d said, hands on your hips like you were scolding a toddler who’d colored on the walls. you looked so annoyed, so unimpressed, so... angelic? he doesn’t know. blame the blood loss.

“what’s it to you?” he’d snarled, expecting you to walk away like everyone else. but instead, you crouched down, pulled out a first-aid kit from god-knows-where, and patched him up right there. like some feral stray, he’d just sat there and let you.

and then, because subtlety is not in sukuna’s vocabulary, he’d yelled at you a few weeks later to “just be my girl already,” fully prepared for rejection. except you’d said yes. casually. like it was no big deal.

liar. it was a huge deal. he’d wanted to cheer so loud they’d hear him across town. instead, he’d just grunted and said, “fine,” as if he hadn’t just won the lottery.

now, here’s the thing: sukuna doesn’t “do” feelings. or labels. or mushy crap like this. but somehow, you’ve made it your personal mission to take care of him, and the worst part? he lets you.

so, yeah, obviously he needs to “man up” and ask you to prom before some other idiot gets the idea. the thought of someone else—someone less deserving—getting to stand next to you in those ridiculous photos everyone takes? absolutely not.

but how is he supposed to ask you?

“hey, wanna go to prom?” no. too boring.

“you and me. prom. be there.” god, no. too aggressive.

“i’ll fight anyone who tries to take you if you say yes.” okay, maybe, but he doesn’t want to scare you.

and what if you say no? …no, scratch that. you wouldn’t. right?

“why do you look constipated?” your voice pulls him out of his internal chaos, and he realizes he’s been frowning so hard his face hurts. 

“shut up,” he grumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets. you just laugh, that soft little sound that makes his chest feel annoyingly warm. “you’re so silly sometimes.”

silly? silly? sukuna’s this close to snapping back, but he bites his tongue. for now. he’ll figure it out. eventually. probably. 

unless someone else beats him to it.

nope. not happening. over his dead body.

chapter two: swipe, stress, repeat

if sukuna from a month ago could see sukuna right now, he'd be frothing at the mouth. the self-proclaimed king of school, the untouchable badass who spent his time punching people and skipping class, reduced to lying in his bed, phone clutched in hand, scrolling through tiktok like some lovesick idiot? 

embarrassing. absolutely humiliating. 

the guy would’ve torn his own future self apart, verbally and probably physically, for this kind of behavior. but present-day sukuna? he couldn’t care less. if past sukuna had a problem, he could take it up with the tiktok algorithm because, damn it, he was busy right now.

sukuna's room is peak sukuna. the walls are painted a deep gray—an edgy, brooding shade that screams “it’s not a phase mom,” and yet the color somehow sets off the aggressively pink hello kitty lamp on his bedside table. don’t ask why he has it. it’s your fault, anyway, since you bought it for him, and when he told you he wouldn’t use it, you pouted. now the damn thing stays on every night. 

his bed is a mess of black sheets, crumpled in a way that suggests he both sleeps like a starfish and fights imaginary enemies in his dreams. the single poster above his bed is of some obscure underground metal band you probably pretend to care about when he rants, but the corner is peeling because he’s too lazy to fix it. 

on the desk? chaos. protein powder tubs, half-used cologne bottles, random dumbbells, and a notebook that’s only ever been opened once—probably because he mistook it for a coaster. nestled among this battlefield of masculinity is his phone charger, tangled in a knot that somehow feels symbolic of his life choices.

but let’s talk about the tiktok doom scrolling session. sprawled on his bed, legs dangling off the edge, sukuna clears out his notifications, which are predictably 90% you tagging him in ridiculous couple reels. “this is us <3,” you captioned one, featuring two lopsided cartoon bananas cuddling. another one? a video of raccoons stealing food with the words “me and you robbing mcdonald’s after your practice :3” plastered over it. he groans loudly but still clicks the tag, because god forbid he misses one.

and then he sees it: the initials trend. he stumbles across a video with the letters r + your initial floating on-screen, surrounded by sparkly hearts. it takes him a solid two tries, but when the stupid thing finally lands on the right combination, sukuna practically slams the save button. the smug grin on his face could rival the one he wears after winning a fight. “got it,” he mutters to himself, as if he’s achieved something monumental. and maybe he has—because nothing screams romance like a tiktok filter confirming your undying love. his phone buzzes again, and it’s you, sending yet another video. he opens it, and it’s a clip of two fat seals flopping in the water together. “this is us,” you text, followed by a string of hearts. sukuna lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “you’re so dumb,” he mutters, even as he saves the video.

but tonight, sukuna is a man on a mission. a stupid mission, in his humble opinion, but one he’s reluctantly accepted because of you.

his night started the same as it always does lately—on call with you while you go through your nightly skincare routine. he pretends not to care, half-listening as you ramble about serums and exfoliators, but if anyone asked why he knows the difference between niacinamide and retinol now, he’d deny it with his whole chest. “okay, goodnight,” you say eventually, and he feels weirdly warm when you pause, waiting for his reply. “yeah, yeah. goodnight,” he mutters, then sends you a five-line-long text he drafts with the precision of a tactical operation. it’s disgustingly sweet, full of things so cheesy he could probably use it as a weapon in a fight. 

of course, he ends it with a selfie—him lying on his bed, shirtless but casual, because he knows you eat up this couple-y nonsense. “cute,” you reply immediately, followed by a flurry of heart emojis that make him roll his eyes and grin at the same time. with that out of the way, it’s doom scrolling time. 

but tonight isn’t about your endless tags of raccoon memes or seal videos. no, tonight, sukuna is diving into the depths of promposal content.

his room is dimly lit, the only light coming from the soft glow of his phone and the offensively pink hello kitty lamp on his bedside table. the contrast between the lamp and his deep gray walls is glaring, but he’s gotten used to it—he even mumbles a “thanks, kitty” when he turns it off at night. sitting cross-legged on his bed, surrounded by a haphazard array of items—a half-empty protein shake, a stray dumbbell, and a random sock he’s too lazy to find the pair for—he scrolls through tiktok like a man possessed. 

promposals flood his feed, one after the other, and his frown deepens with every video. flowers, posters, confetti—it’s all the same. one boy after another holding a sparkly sign with some cheesy pickup line, and a group of random bystanders shrieking like it’s the second coming of christ. “yuck,” he mutters under his breath, barely noticing when he tosses his dumbbell off the bed with a loud thud! “this is how people live? pathetic.”

then he sees it: a video of a guy holding a giant poster that reads, “are you a parking ticket? because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you.”

sukuna’s jaw drops. “oh, hell no.”

without thinking, he types out a comment: “i can do better.” and when the notifications flood in from strangers defending the boy’s cringe-worthy effort, he actually guffaws, shaking his head in sadistic satisfaction. but then a thought strikes him. what if this is what you expect? what if you want the cheesy pickup line, the sparkly poster, the ridiculous crowd cheering you on? the idea makes him physically recoil, but he can’t ignore the tiny voice in his head whispering, it’s for her.

and when he exits tiktok, his matching hello kitty profile picture with you stares back at him, painfully cute and obnoxiously pink. it’s a sharp contrast to the guy who spent ten minutes this morning threatening his neighbor’s dog for barking too much.

groaning, he sets an alarm on his phone for tomorrow morning. “five hours of sleep,” he mutters to himself, glaring at the clock like it’s personally offended him. with a dramatic sigh, he reaches over and switches off the hello kitty lamp. the room plunges into darkness, but his mind is already racing, plotting ways to outdo every cringe-worthy promposal he’s seen.

you’d better appreciate this, he thinks, punching his pillow into shape before flopping onto it. because if sukuna’s doing this, he’s going to do it better than anyone else.

—

the next day, sukuna wakes up with the vague hope that he’ll somehow embody the effortlessly cool energy of those coming-of-age movie protagonists you seem to fawn over. the universe, however, has other plans. his “cool boy” morning routine includes stubbing his toe on the corner of his bed, swearing loudly enough to make the neighbor’s dog bark, and grabbing a shampoo bottle to wash his face before realizing, mid-lather, that something isn’t right.

by the time he’s dressed in a ratty old lakers jersey his mom gave him ages ago (that’s definitely seen better days), he’s already on edge. he triple-checks that the beaded bracelet you made him is securely on his wrist. one time, he forgot it in the abyss of his bag, and you didn’t talk to him for all of lunch period. the memory alone makes him shudder. high school relationships are no joke; he’s convinced they’re scarier than any fight he’s been in. “yuuji!” he bellows, dragging his seven-year-old brother by the scruff of his neck like a misbehaving cat. “we’re gonna miss the bus!”

“but i’m watching powaaaaa rangerrrrsssss!” yuuji wails, kicking his legs in protest. for the fifth time. in a row.

“i don’t care if they’re morphin’ again for the hundredth time,” sukuna snaps, hauling the squirming kid out the door.

once on the school bus, sukuna practically shoves yuuji into the front seat with his group of loud, chaotic little friends—toge, the broody one, and nobara, the one who’s probably already plotting world domination. “don’t cause trouble,” he growls, earning a cheeky grin from nobara and a half-hearted glare from toge. then, sukuna retreats to his rightful throne in the backseat. people probably think he’s texting some gang leader to set up a fight or maybe coordinating a weed deal. but no. you know what he’s actually doing?

writing you the sappiest good morning text imaginable.

with his phone held at a suspicious angle, he types furiously:

good mornin sunshine ❤️❤️❤️ sorry this is late. woke up thinking about you and totally forgot how to function lol. you’re probably already looking perfect but don’t forget to eat breakfast okay???? can’t have my girl passing out and making me look bad 😏. also did i ever tell you your bedhead is cute? bc it is. anyway have a good day baby i’ll see you in school soon. love you.

he stares at it, debating whether it’s too much. but then again, you’re the type who sends him texts like, “did you know sharks existed before trees? good morning !! <3 :3” so he figures he’s safe. after hitting send, he leans back with a satisfied smirk, like he’s just conquered the world. if anyone dares to ask, he’ll lie through his teeth about what he’s doing. but deep down, sukuna knows he’s whipped. totally and utterly.

—

sukuna’s morning ritual of chaos continues as he practically shoves yuuji toward the elementary school section, muttering curses under his breath while dodging questions about his bracelet.

“but when can i get tattoos like yours?” yuuji asks, for the millionth time this week.

“never,” sukuna snaps, ruffling yuuji’s hair just hard enough to mess it up.

“but why nooottt?” yuuji whines, pouting. “they’re cool! toge said they make you look like a bad guy!”

“tell toge to mind his own damn business,” sukuna growls, ignoring the way yuuji’s tiny friends scatter at the mere sight of him. when one of the kids starts crying, he scoffs loudly. elementary schoolers are weak.

with yuuji safely deposited, sukuna sprints—yes, sprints—to the high school section, expertly weaving through crowds of students. if anyone asks, he’ll say it’s because he’s late to class, but really, he’s looking for you.

when he spots you at your locker, a familiar warmth floods his chest, but he quickly shoves it down, replacing it with a carefully practiced scowl. if sukuna could have it his way, he’d profess his undying love for you in the most dramatic way possible—on his knees, quoting some shakespeare nonsense about your ethereal beauty or whatever the old dead guy used to write about. but alas, his bad boy reputation is at stake. 

so instead, he settles for a gruff, “yo,” as he leans against the locker next to yours, arms crossed, trying to look casual. you glance up, smiling brightly. “morning! did you sleep okay?”

“yeah,” he lies, conveniently forgetting the part where he only got five hours of sleep because of tiktok research.

you go on, oblivious to the way he’s fighting the urge to smile like an idiot. “ugghhh, i got up five minutes late today. five whole minutes!” you pause dramatically. “so i didn’t have time to pack my stationery, and now i have to use my backup stationery pouch from my locker. do you know how annoying that is?”

“devastating,” sukuna deadpans, nodding solemnly. “truly, the world is cruel.”

“right?” you huff, pulling the pouch from your locker. “like, what if the backup doesn’t have my favorite pens? what am i supposed to do then?”

he watches you, amused, as you rummage through your locker like your life depends on it. secretly, he loves how animated you get over the smallest things, but god forbid anyone else find out. “wish i had backups,” he mutters, half to himself. “my locker’s just got junk. extra shoes, pants, a charger, and, uh…” he pauses, eyeing you carefully. “a vape.”

you turn to him, raising an eyebrow. “a vape?”

“it’s not mine,” he says quickly, standing straighter. “holding it for a friend.”

“sure,” you tease, smirking. “it’s true!” he insists, trying to look indignant but failing because you’re smiling at him, and it’s making his brain short-circuit.

as you shut your locker, you start rambling about your next class, and sukuna does what he does best—stands close, nods occasionally, and tries to act nonchalant. inside, though, he’s cataloging every word you say like it’s gospel, marveling at how even your complaints sound cute. he stuffs his hands in his pockets, pretending not to care, but the truth is written all over his face: sukuna is hopelessly, ridiculously in love. and it’s a problem he wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

as you and sukuna make your way down the hallway, everything seems normal—or as normal as a high school hallway can get. the fluorescent lights buzz overhead, lockers slam shut, and a cluster of juniors are trying to tape a "kick me" sign to someone’s back. sukuna’s tuned most of it out, but that’s when the universe decides to test his patience. smack dab in the middle of the hallway, it happens.

“oh my god!” you squeal, tugging on sukuna’s sleeve.

he already hates this.

in front of you both, a whole crowd has gathered. there are girls crying into their hands, boys hooting like it’s a football game, and teachers yelling about how this is a fire hazard, which no one is listening to. and at the epicenter of it all is none other than gojo satoru.

“suguru!” gojo announces, holding up a bucket of kfc chicken in one hand and a bouquet of roses made entirely out of dollar bills in the other. “you’re the butter to my biscuit, the drumstick to my chicken, and the love of my life! if you don’t go to prom with me, i’ll throw myself into oncoming traffic!”

“oh my god, he’s so dramatic,” you whisper to sukuna, but your voice is dripping with excitement. “this is adorable!” sukuna blinks at the scene, trying to process what’s happening. “adorable? this is a migraine waiting to happen.”

meanwhile, geto—poor, unsuspecting geto—is standing there looking like he’s debating whether to run or laugh. “satoru, what the hell?” he finally manages, his voice somewhere between exasperation and amusement.

“it’s love, suguru!” gojo declares, dropping to one knee for added effect. “say yes, or i’ll never recover!”

“that’s definitely not true,” sukuna mutters under his breath.

“shh!” you scold, hitting his arm lightly. “this is so cute!”

“it’s cringe,” sukuna grumbles. “he’s holding chicken.”

“the chicken makes it better!”

“the chicken makes it worse,” sukuna counters, crossing his arms. but he can’t deny that the bouquet of dollar bills is kind of genius. if he had to respect one thing, it’s that. geto sighs loudly, clearly resigned to his fate. 

“fine,” he says, shaking his head but unable to hide the small smile on his face. “i’ll go to prom with you, satoru.”

the hallway erupts.

girls start crying harder, like their hearts have been ripped out of their chests. “geto’s off the market!” one of them wails, collapsing into her friend’s arms. the boys cheer, probably just glad they don’t have to be involved in anything like this. and gojo? gojo lets out a triumphant yell, pumping his fist in the air. “i told you he loves me!” their friend group immediately piles on, clapping geto on the back and hyping up gojo like he just won the lottery. you, meanwhile, are clutching sukuna’s arm and bouncing on your toes. “oh my god, that was so cute!” you gush. “did you see the chicken? and the bouquet? sukuna, that was so sweet!”

sukuna looks at you, then at the chaos, then back at you. he feels a headache creeping in. “sweet? that was... loud.”

“you’re impossible,” you say, laughing as you let go of his arm to keep walking.

but sukuna isn’t laughing. oh no, because now there’s a new problem: he has to top that. as he follows you down the hallway, he rubs his temples, muttering to himself. “chicken and dollar bills. great. what’s next? fireworks? a live band? a damn parade?”

you glance back at him, raising an eyebrow. “what are you mumbling about?”

“nothing,” he snaps, quickening his pace to catch up.

but inside, he’s panicking. topping gojo satoru’s level of absurdity is a tall order, and sukuna isn’t sure whether to be pissed off or impressed. probably both. one thing’s for sure, though: he has his work cut out for him.

sukuna finally wades through the chaos of the hallway—largely composed of gojo clinging to geto’s foot like a very loud termite—and drops you off at your first class of the day: english language and literature. you sigh dramatically, digging through your bag and muttering about how your lack of highlighters is basically a crime against academia. “how am i supposed to annotate macbeth without my stationary pouch?”

sukuna, leaning against your desk with all the casual confidence in the world, rolls his eyes. “it’s not that deep.” but then, in a move that makes you freeze, he pulls a neon highlighter out of his pocket and tosses it to you. “use that,” he grunts, like he just handed you a scrap of paper, not an intimate act of love. 

you blink at the highlighter, then at him, like he just gifted you the moon. “did you just—where did you even get this?”

“don’t ask questions,” he snaps, already looking like he regrets the decision. (he definitely stole it from someone’s pouch months ago.) but you’re staring at him with so much adoration it’s almost embarrassing. 

“this is... this is the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for me.”

sukuna freezes. “you’re joking.”

“i’m not joking.”

he looks like he’s questioning every life choice that brought him here, but before he can respond, his phone buzzes in his pocket. it’s a text from toji zenin. the message is cryptic and infuriatingly vague: “grounds. now.”

sukuna sighs loudly, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “gotta go,” he mutters. he leans down and plants a quick kiss on your cheek before bolting out the door, and you both freeze for half a second, equally flustered. “uh—bye!” you call after him as he practically sprints out of the classroom, the beads on his bracelet jingling against his wrist.

by the time sukuna reaches the school grounds, he’s already mentally prepared for a fight. he’s even got his tough guy face on—jaw clenched, shoulders squared, the works.

but when he spots toji zenin and shiu kong standing by the bleachers, something feels off. toji isn’t cracking his knuckles or smirking like usual. instead, he’s pacing, running a hand through his hair like he’s stressed. 

sukuna narrows his eyes. “what the hell is this? if this is another one of your stupid pranks, i’m decking you both.”

“relax,” toji says, holding up his hands. “i’m not here to fight.”

“yet,” shiu mutters, earning a glare from toji. sukuna crosses his arms. “then what do you want?”

toji looks around, as if checking to make sure no one else is listening. then, in a voice so low sukuna almost doesn’t hear it, he says, “i need your help.”

sukuna blinks. “what?”

“you heard me.”

“no, i definitely didn’t. because it sounded like you said you need my help.”

“i did.” toji looks like admitting it physically hurts him. “look, it’s about fushiguro.”

sukuna raises an eyebrow. “who?”

“you know, my... my...” he gestures vaguely. “crush.”

sukuna stares at him. “you dragged me out here to talk about your love life?”

toji groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “listen, it’s not that simple. i need your help to... to bully her.”

“...what?”

“bully her,” toji repeats, like it’s the most logical thing in the world. “you know, make her life miserable so i can swoop in and save the day. it’s foolproof!” sukuna stares at him for a long moment, trying to process the sheer idiocy of what he just heard. 

“you want me to bully your crush so you can play knight in shining armor?”

“exactly.”

“you’re an idiot.”

“c’mon, sukuna,” toji pleads. “you’re good at the whole intimidation thing! you don’t even have to go hard, just—”

“no.”

“but—”

“no.”

shiu snickers from the sidelines. “told you he wouldn’t do it.” toji glares at him, then turns back to sukuna. “fine. then give me advice or something! how am i supposed to ask her to prom?”

“i don’t know, maybe try not bullying her?”

“wow, thanks for the groundbreaking advice,” toji says, deadpan. sukuna rolls his eyes. “look, just—give her something she likes. flowers, chocolates, whatever. don’t overthink it.”

“flowers? chocolates? what is this, a rom-com?” toji scoffs.

“then figure it out yourself,” sukuna snaps, already turning to leave. “i’ve got better things to do.”

“like what?”

“none of your business.” sukuna snaps, already regretting every second of this interaction.

this is the point where toji is wailing, absolutely wailing, and it’s honestly one of the worst things sukuna’s had to witness, and he once saw yuuji eat spaghetti with his hands. 

“you don’t get it, sukuna!” toji cries, pacing back and forth. “if i don’t get fushiguro—mamaguro, the love of my life—i’ll look like a fool for calling myself toji fushiguro all year! do you know how many people think we’re already married? do you understand the pressure?”

“no,” sukuna deadpans, crossing his arms. “because i’m not insane.”

“this is a matter of marriage or death,” toji insists, dramatic as ever. “marriage! or! death!”

shiu, leaning against the bleachers, snickers. “it’s more like marriage or public humiliation, but yeah, sure, toji. go off.”

“shut up, shiu!” toji snaps. then, in the most embarrassing move yet, he turns back to sukuna, clutching his arm like he’s begging a god for salvation. “please, sukuna. please. i’ll do anything!”

sukuna yanks his arm back with a grimace. “don’t touch me.”

“i’ll pay you,” toji adds, desperate now. “how much do you want?” shiu, ever the opportunist, pulls out a wad of cash from his jacket. “i’ll double whatever you’re thinking.”

sukuna glares at him, then at the money, then back at toji, who’s practically vibrating with nerves. the sheer audacity of these people.

“what do you two think i am?” sukuna growls, stepping closer. “someone you can just buy?”

toji and shiu exchange a look.

“yes,” they say in unison.

“you’re not wrong,” sukuna mutters, snatching the cash out of shiu’s hand.

and that’s how sukuna finds himself storming into the art room, where fushiguro—lovingly dubbed mamaguro by the school fraternity, who is also the unknowing subject of toji’s unhinged obsession—is peacefully painting a landscape. 

“yo,” sukuna calls, making sure his voice sounds just gruff enough to make an impression. mamaguro looks up, confused but polite as ever. “oh, sukuna. what brings you here?”

“uh…” sukuna falters for half a second. then, remembering the script toji forced on him, he clears his throat. “your art sucks.”

mamaguro blinks at him. “excuse me?”

“you heard me,” sukuna says, louder this time. “these clouds? they look like—like… mashed potatoes!”

“mashed potatoes?” she repeats, her tone teetering between disbelief and amusement.

“yeah! and this—this tree? it’s—it’s… ugly!”

he’s running out of insults fast, but thankfully, he doesn’t have to keep going because, right on cue, toji bursts into the room like a man possessed.

“stop right there, sukuna!” toji yells, pointing dramatically.

sukuna rolls his eyes so hard he nearly pulls something.

“how dare you insult her art?” toji continues, marching forward. “you know nothing of the beauty and grace she pours into every stroke of her brush! apologize to her, right now!”

sukuna glances at mamaguro, who’s now staring at toji like he’s grown a second head.

“um…” she starts, clearly confused.

“and not only that,” toji adds, dropping to one knee, “i, toji fushig– i mean, zenin, would be honored if you would accompany me to prom!”

the silence that follows is deafening.

“…what?” mamaguro says, her voice a mix of shock and secondhand embarrassment.

“say yes, please,” toji begs, still on his knee.

sukuna takes this as his cue to leave before his brain cells start dying en masse. as he walks out, he hears a mixture of toji’s frantic pleading, mamaguro’s incredulous laughter, and shiu’s obnoxious whooping from the hallway. “cringe,” sukuna mutters to himself, shoving his hands into his pockets. on the way out, he snatches the rest of the wad of cash from shiu’s hand. the guy doesn’t even protest; he’s too busy recording the whole disaster on his phone.

normally, sukuna would use this cash for something like a new vape or a pack of cigarettes. but now? now he’s a man with a mission. he’s going to use this money for your promposal.

assuming he can think of something. preferably something that doesn’t involve dollar bill bouquets or public humiliation.

as sukuna storms off the art room steps, he’s already thinking of how he could possibly top the circus act he just witnessed. whatever he comes up with has to be cool, low-key, and—most importantly—not the type of thing that makes people point and say, "look at ryomen sukuna doing that." because if there’s one thing sukuna won’t tolerate, it’s losing to toji zenin in a battle of charm.

he stuffs the cash into his pocket, muttering to himself, “this better be worth it.” and by "this," he means putting up with high school drama, helping idiots like toji, and figuring out the best way to ask you to prom without looking like a total sap.

little does he know, shiu is already uploading the footage of toji’s “promposal” disaster onto his burner account with the caption: “zenin family downfall: live footage.” 

and in the back of his mind, sukuna knows one thing for sure—he needs to act fast. whatever he does has to blow everyone away, especially you.

—

sukuna leans against the wall outside the school gates, trying to look as nonchalant as humanly possible despite the fact that his brain is doing cartwheels. his day’s been an absolute dumpster fire—between toji’s soap opera, shiu’s cryptic smirks, and some freshman mistaking him for a guidance counselor (how? how does that even happen?), he’s just about had it. and then, like the climax of one of those rom-coms you force him to watch, you step out of the school building. sukuna swears he hears a choir of angels, some harp strings, and maybe even sees a glowing halo over your head.

but of course, he’s ryomen sukuna, and he’s supposed to be the "bad boy." so instead of saying something poetic like, “you’re the light of my life,” he settles on:

“what the hell took you so long?”

your indignant pout hits him like a sucker punch, and he immediately regrets his choice of words. “excuse me, mister,” you huff, hands on your hips. “i was finishing my community service hours.”

“community service?” sukuna raises a brow. “what’d you do this time? steal a library book? jaywalk?”

you roll your eyes. “not everyone’s a delinquent like you, ‘kuna. i was helping clean up the school garden.”

“right. of course you were.” sukuna mutters, trying to ignore the sharp contrast between the two of you. while you’re out here being a model student with a résumé the size of a textbook, sukuna’s résumé might as well just say “can punch really hard.”

you don’t notice his inner turmoil as you launch into your usual spiel about your packed schedule. “so after that, i had drama club practice, then i’m helping with the fundraiser for the library, and then i have to—”

sukuna zones out for a second, overwhelmed by the sheer productivity radiating off of you. jesus, she’s a walking linkedin profile, he thinks, mentally comparing your extracurriculars to his…well, lack thereof. unless fistfights, bad decisions, and looking hot in leather count as extracurriculars.

“—and next week i’m presenting at the school board meeting!” you finish, beaming.

“you know, some of us don’t have time to kiss ass,” sukuna mutters under his breath, though there’s no malice in it.

“what was that?”

“nothing,” he says quickly, reaching out to grab your hand before he can think too much about it. he gives it a small squeeze, hoping it’ll shut up the voice in his head that’s been nagging him all day. you glance down at your intertwined hands, your expression softening. “you okay?”

“yeah, fine,” sukuna lies, looking away so you don’t catch the slight pink tint creeping up his ears. you let it slide, leaning closer as you walk beside him. “you know, you don’t have to wait for me every day.”

“and let some idiot try to ask you out while i’m not around? yeah, right.”

you laugh, and sukuna feels his chest loosen a little.

“you’re silly,” you say, swinging his hand a little as you walk.

“and you’re too good for me,” sukuna blurts out before he can stop himself. 

you stop in your tracks, blinking up at him. “what?”

“uh—nothing,” he says quickly, his brain screaming at him to shut up. but you don’t let it go. you tighten your grip on his hand and give him a look so sincere it nearly floors him. “sukuna, i like you for you, okay? not for some résumé or checklist or whatever you’re overthinking right now.”

“who says i’m overthinking?”

“your face.”

sukuna scoffs, trying to mask the relief that washes over him. “yeah, well. you’re lucky i like you too.”

you grin, leaning up to kiss his cheek, and sukuna swears he hears those angel singing again. maybe you really are untouchable, he thinks. but then again, you’re holding his hand, choosing him out of everyone else. and maybe that’s what true love is—messy, imperfect, and way too good to be true.

—

sukuna stumbles into his room after the long, exhausting day. his feet drag on the floor as he sheds his jacket, but leaves his shoes on—he's too tired to even care about a single thing right now. his bed looks like a warzone, clothes scattered across the floor in what can only be described as a "i’m a badass" fashion, but anyone who’s seen it knows it’s just laziness masked as chaos.

one of his dumbass bandanas is hanging off the lamp, and his hello kitty nightlight still glows faintly by his desk, casting a strange aura around the room. a vape lies carelessly tossed beside his pillow, some loose change, and a stack of junk food wrappers. he’d never admit it, but there’s a half-open box of chocolate chip cookies on his nightstand because, surprise surprise, he bought it for you earlier but kept it for himself when you weren’t looking.

ryomen sukuna, ladies and gentlemen.

plopping down onto his bed, he lazily scrolls through his phone before flopping down, leaving the screen bright enough to nearly fry his eyes. as if the day wasn’t already overwhelming enough, now he’s doing something even dumber. he opens discord. 

and without thinking twice, sends a message to uraume, the e-friend he’s been talking to for months, mostly while they’ve been playing apex legends. he had no clue how this strange friendship even started, but honestly? uraume was sarcastic, annoying in a way that made him laugh, and didn’t take his “bad boy” persona too seriously. 

he leans back, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds, holding the vape in his mouth while scrolling mindlessly through tiktok videos, making mental notes about the stuff you liked—stuff like cheesy couple memes, random boyfriend-girlfriend skits, and, of course, the tiktok videos of couples doing those “promposals.” sighing dramatically, he sends the message to uraume.

kingofcursezz: yo kingofcursezz: how the hell do you ask someone to prom without making it cringey kingofcursezz: help me out bro kingofcursezz: i'm trying to avoid looking like an idiot

he exhales a puff of smoke, irritated with himself for even reaching out to uraume about this. this is beneath him. but the thought of you—and how you’re so sweet, how you deserve the best….

yeah... he can’t screw this up. not now, not after all the effort.

his phone pings with a reply, and sukuna, having put it off for a second, glances down at the screen:

starume666: LOL starume666: are you seriously asking me this?

kingofcursezz: if you don’t help istg i’ll show up with a bucket of chicken and a bouquet of dollar bills. that’s my backup plan so you better give me something good.

he pauses to let out a tired, humorless laugh as he wipes his face. god, he’s not gonna survive this.

starume666: lmaooooo starume666: dude you’re way too hard on yourself starume666: just do smth simple but meaningful  starume666: what’s the thing you know will make her smile?

kingofcursezz: uhhhhhhh kingofcursezz: how about not being a weirdo who doesn’t know what the fuck a promposal is?  kingofcursezz: i’ll be the guy in the background who just buys her flowers and does the bare minimum like some jock that’s been forced into this tradition 💀💀💀💀

starume666: yeah but you’re not a jock bro  starume666: you’re a bad boy 😹 so act like it starume666: maybe do something unexpected n go off-script.

kingofcursezz: i mean ig she’ll like it if i show up in a full suit kingofcursezz: but i don’t have a tux so kingofcursezz: 💀

starume666: i swear if you don’t do this right i’m flying to your school and putting a bucket of kfc on your doorstep starume666: figure out what she likes and then do that. just be honest dude.

kingofcursezz: okok fine kingofcursezz: i’ll show up and do smth kingofcursezz: if you could stop texting me like my mom, that’d be great.

starume666: [reacted 😹 to your message]

sukuna rolls his eyes as the conversation ends, staring at his phone for a long while. he can’t help but think about you and the fact that he might actually care enough to make this promposal thing work. he shakes his head and grins at the absurdity of it all. for you, though? he’ll do anything. even if it means figuring out how to pull off the world’s least embarrassing promposal.

with that, he flicks his vape one last time, sits up, and starts brainstorming—maybe a simple bouquet? or, wait—does she even like roses? the inner turmoil continues, but one thing's for sure: he’s committed to this, for you.

chapter three: flowers are expensive, but regret is worse

sukuna’s day is just one monotonous loop of chaos, like some cruelly predictable high school sitcom. the cycle starts as usual: he drags yuuji, still wailing about his half-finished power rangers episode, onto the bus. the kid still begs for face tattoos, and sukuna swears he’s about to lose his mind if yuuji brings it up again. after that, he waits for you by the school gates like some lovesick loser who’s too proud to admit it, walks you to class, and then spends the rest of his day dodging every cheesy, cringe-worthy promposal happening at every corner.

but today? today, he’s got a mission. because apparently, the hellscape of high school doesn’t just end at promposals. no, the school administration has to rub salt in the wound by charging $20 per ticket for prom. 

$20. per person.

“are they funding a space program or what?” sukuna mutters under his breath as he trudges toward the admin desk, a wad of cash in hand. the admin, of course, isn’t at the desk. instead, gojo satoru is standing there, grinning ear to ear, holding a stack of offensively pink prom tickets. sukuna stops dead in his tracks.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” sukuna grumbles, glaring at gojo. “good morning to you too, sunshine!” gojo chirps, twirling the tickets between his fingers like he’s actually enjoying this. “what are you doing here?” sukuna asks, shoving the cash across the desk with zero ceremony.

“volunteering,” gojo says, batting his lashes as if he’s some kind of saint. “community service, you know? unlike you, i’m giving back to the school.”

“you mean they forced you here after you nearly set the chem lab on fire last month,” sukuna deadpans. gojo gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “how dare you? those were experiments! i’m a man of science, sukuna.”

“you’re a man of stupidity,” sukuna snaps, snatching the two tickets from gojo’s hand before he can start twirling them again. the pink nearly burns his eyes.

“aw, come on, don’t be like that,” gojo says, leaning over the desk like some smug cat. “you excited for prom? oh wait, let me guess. you’re one of those guys who’s too cool for prom, huh? you’re just going for your girlfriend’s sake, aren’t you? how adorable.” 

sukuna grits his teeth, refusing to give gojo the satisfaction of a response. instead, he grabs the clipboard to sign his name and yours, hastily scrawling the details. “oh, and while you’re at it,” gojo continues, leaning further into sukuna’s personal space, “you should totally sign up for prom king. i mean, look at you. tattoos, brooding face, bad-boy aura. the people would eat it up.”

sukuna freezes, pen hovering over the clipboard. “prom king? really?”

“absolutely!” gojo beams. “and hey, if you win, you’ll get to dance with your queen on stage in front of the whole school. talk about a moment, right?” sukuna scoffs but signs his name anyway. not because of gojo, of course. but because there’s no way in hell he’s letting some random idiot stand next to you on stage as prom king. 

gojo squints at the clipboard, noticing sukuna’s addition. “wait, you’re actually signing up? no way! oh my god, this is going to be epic. i can already see the headlines: ‘bad boy turned prom king—how sukuna stole the crown.’”

“shut up, gojo,” sukuna growls, shoving the clipboard back across the desk. “you got it, your majesty,” gojo smirks, giving a mock bow.

sukuna storms off, tickets in hand, muttering to himself about how much he hates this school. but deep down, he’s already imagining you as prom queen, standing beside him, both of you looking annoyingly perfect.

sukuna’s first instinct when he spots you walking toward him is to shove the glaringly pink prom tickets into his mouth and chew. problem solved. except, knowing his luck, you’d catch him mid-act, choke on the damn thing, and die right there in the middle of the hallway like some bad joke. 

so, instead, he opts for plan b: stuffing the tickets into his shirt. brilliant. considering you’re shorter than him and can’t reach his chest, it’s practically foolproof. he adjusts the tickets awkwardly under his jersey, patting them down like some suspicious drug mule as you get closer. totally suave. totally inconspicuous. 

“hey!” you chirp, completely oblivious to his internal crisis.“yo,” he grunts back, hands jammed into his pockets like they’ve been superglued there. 

you squint at him. “...you okay? you’re standing like you’re hiding a bomb or something.”

“nah, i’m good,” sukuna says quickly, shifting his weight like he suddenly forgot “how to human.”

you tilt your head, but thankfully don’t push it. instead, you start talking about your day—something about a community service meeting and a teacher who forgot their own syllabus—and sukuna does his best to nod and grunt in all the right places. but his mind? it’s running a marathon.

how the hell is he supposed to propose?

the obvious answer is to just...hand you the tickets. easy, straightforward, zero theatrics. you’d say yes, because of course you would—it’s not like you’ve been subtle about dropping hints that you wanted him to ask you. but then he remembers the look on your face every time you watch one of those elaborate promposal videos on tiktok. the way your eyes light up, how you gush about the effort people put in, how cute it is.

and that’s when it hits him like a brick to the face: this isn’t about proving a point to the rest of the school, or even about outdoing gojo’s obnoxious stunt with geto. it’s about you. about making you smile, giving you a moment you’d remember fondly for years. he’s gotta do it right. for you.

but how?

his brain is a war zone of terrible ideas:

buy a giant teddy bear and make it hold the tickets? nah, too cutesy.

write a message in the sky? too broke.

pretend to lose the tickets and ‘find’ them in front of you? too stupid.

he realizes, with a sinking feeling, that this is why he’s been spiraling. because this whole relationship thing? it’s uncharted territory for him. you’re his first relationship, his first everything, and the last thing he wants to do is screw it up.

goddamn it.

you’re still talking when he zones back in, noticing the way you’re looking up at him expectantly. “...so? what do you think?”

“uh,” he says, blinking. “yeah. sounds good.”

“sukuna, i just asked if i should shave my head for charity,” you deadpan.

he stares at you, caught red-handed. “...no?”

you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, and he feels something in his chest unclench. for now, at least. he’s got until the end of the week to figure this out. totally doable. right?

wrong.

sukuna slumps onto the gym floor after basketball practice, sweat dripping off him like he’s just crawled out of a swamp. he grabs a water bottle, downs half of it, and tosses it aside like he’s starring in a gatorade commercial, all while muttering to himself, “this is a nightmare. i’m surrounded by idiots.”

“what’s the crisis this time, king sukuna?” naoya zenin drawls, leaning against the wall and doing absolutely nothing productive. the guy wouldn’t even break a sweat if his life depended on it, yet somehow he’s always the loudest voice in the room. “none of your business, zenin,” sukuna snaps, trying to ignore the fact that he even brought this up.

“aw, come on,” naoya smirks. “let me guess. girlfriend troubles? did she finally realize you’re all bark and no bite?”

sukuna shoots him a glare that could probably set someone on fire. “i’m trying to plan a prom-posal, dumbass.”

“oh, that’s why you look constipated,” toji pipes up from where he’s sprawled on the bleachers, looking like he’s auditioning for a mattress commercial. “need me to step in? i can bully her a little for you. worked like a charm with my mamaguro.”

“toji, shut the hell up before i make you swallow that smug look,” sukuna growls, though toji just chuckles, completely unfazed. “don’t listen to him,” nanami says, peeling off his sweatbands like he’s had it with everyone’s nonsense. “if you want a genuine suggestion, vogue says simplicity is key. a heartfelt speech, some flowers—”

“you’re reading vogue now?” geto interjects, raising an eyebrow.

“it was for a research paper,” nanami replies, deadpan. “and no, i will not elaborate.”

“you’re all useless,” sukuna groans, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. he turns to geto, the only one who hasn’t actively annoyed him yet. “what about you? you’re practically married to gojo at this point. what worked for you?” geto groans like he’s been asked to relive a traumatic experience. 

“please, don’t remind me. the guy brought kfc and roses made of dollar bills. do you know how many times i’ve had to explain to people that i didn’t say yes because of the chicken?”

“but you still said yes,” toji points out, grinning like the devil himself.

“because he threatened to throw himself into traffic if i didn’t!” geto snaps, throwing his towel at toji’s face. “what was i supposed to do, let him die in front of the school?”

“yes,” sukuna mutters under his breath, earning a snort from nanami.

“look, you’ve got this,” nanami says, attempting to be the voice of reason. “just think about what she’d like. something meaningful. and maybe, just maybe, don’t get advice from this crowd.”

“i hate all of you,” sukuna announces, standing up and grabbing his bag. “but especially you, toji. never speak to me again.”

“love you too, bro,” toji calls out as sukuna stomps out of the gym, muttering curses under his breath. he’s no closer to a plan, but at least he’s 100% sure of one thing—he’s never asking these idiots for help again.

—

sukuna drags himself into the house, tossing his bag onto the floor like it’s personally offended him. the sound echoes through the living room, but yuuji doesn’t even flinch. the kid’s sprawled out on the couch, a juice box in one hand and the tv remote in the other, utterly engrossed in mean girls. “the hell are you watching?” sukuna asks, toeing off his shoes.

“mean girls,” yuuji replies, eyes glued to the screen. “it’s ‘bout some mean girls, duh.”

“you’re seven, yuuji. why are you watching a movie about high school drama?”

“’cause i gotta get ready for high school. duh again.”

sukuna rolls his eyes but stops when he catches the prom scene on the screen. his brows furrow as he watches. could this help? nope. just people dancing and some heartfelt speech about how everyone’s a queen or whatever. useless. he groans and flops onto the armchair, rubbing his temples. out of pure desperation—and because his brain’s running on fumes—he asks, “hey, yuuji, how would you ask someone to prom?”

yuuji pauses the movie and turns to him with the seriousness of a kid about to give the most groundbreaking advice in the universe. “easy! dress like their favorite power ranger.”

“what.”

“and then you go, ‘will you go to prom with me? hiya!’” yuuji does a karate chop for emphasis, nearly spilling his juice. “and if they say no… boom! mass destruckshin.”

“mass what?”

“mass destruckshin!” yuuji repeats, puffing his chest like he’s just dropped the most foolproof plan of the century. “you gotta show them you mean business!” sukuna stares at his brother, wondering if it’s possible to feel both amused and like his life is spiraling out of control at the same time. 

“yeah, no. thanks for nothing, yuuji.”

“you’re welcome!” yuuji chirps, unpausing the movie. “don’t forget to do the hiya part!”

sukuna groans and leans back in the chair. he’s not about to karate chop his way into a promposal. that’s a one-way ticket to you dumping him on the spot. his mom would’ve been a better bet, but she’s probably halfway through her night shift by now—and even if she were here, she’d skip prom entirely and go straight to planning your wedding. he shudders at the thought. not because he doesn’t like the idea of marrying you—hell, the thought of you in a white dress has his brain short-circuiting—but because his mom would absolutely order a three-tier cake before you’d even said yes to a prom date. “get a grip, sukuna,” he mutters to himself, shaking his head. prom first, wedding later. priorities. 

yuuji, oblivious to his brother’s existential crisis, pipes up again. “hey, ‘kuna, if she says no, can i have your power ranger costume?”

“i’m not wearing a damn power ranger costume!” sukuna snaps, chucking a throw pillow at yuuji, who ducks with a laugh.

“okay, okay! fiinnnneee. but if you mess up, can i have your juice money?” sukuna glares at him. “shut up, yuuji.”

“love you too!” yuuji sing-songs, turning back to mean girls like nothing happened. and sukuna? he’s mentally preparing himself for what feels like the most important mission of his entire high school life.

—

sukuna woke up with the enthusiasm of a cat being dragged to a bath. it was the weekend—not the artist, fortunately, but the actual day—and the irony of hearing the weeknd's "reminder" on loop in his brain from all those tiktok promposals wasn’t lost on him. tiktok really had a way of making everything worse, didn’t it? he groaned, rubbing his face as he sat up in bed, his hair a complete mess and his shirt wrinkled from falling asleep in it.

“alright, flowers,” he muttered, standing and grabbing a hoodie off the floor. it was one of those old, oversized ones with some random logo he’d stolen from his cousin choso. paired with his basketball shorts and beat-up sneakers, sukuna looked like he was ready to run errands or rob a gas station—either worked.

the neighborhood was its usual weekend self—kids playing, dogs barking, and aunties gossiping by gates like it was their full-time job. sukuna stuck out like a sore thumb as he wandered from florist to florist, hands shoved into his hoodie pocket, trying not to look like he was about to hold the place up.

his first stop was a quaint little flower shop with pastel walls and a ridiculously cheery name: bloom haven. sukuna stepped inside, immediately overwhelmed by the overpowering scent of roses and lilies. “good morning!” the florist, a middle-aged woman with a bright smile and an apron covered in flower prints, greeted him. “how can i help you today?”

“uhhh… bouquet?” sukuna said, voice low like he was ashamed to be seen in public buying flowers.

“wonderful! who’s the lucky someone?” she asked, practically sparkling with excitement. “just… someone,” he grumbled, glancing at a bucket of roses. “how much for these?”

“oh, roses are $5 per stem!” she chirped.

sukuna’s brain screeched to a halt. “five bucks? for one flower?”

“they’re premium quality!” she said, as if that justified daylight robbery.

“yeah, premium my ass,” he muttered under his breath, leaving the shop before she could try to sell him anything else.

the next place wasn’t much better. a hipster-owned flower truck parked near a cafe, blasting indie music and decorated with fairy lights. the owner had a man bun and greeted him with, “peace and petals, brother.”

sukuna hated him immediately.

“you got bouquets?” sukuna asked flatly.

“absolutely, bro. we handcraft our arrangements using sustainably sourced—”

“how much?” sukuna interrupted.

“oh, a bouquet starts at $45,” the guy said, like that wasn’t insane.

“forty-five?” sukuna’s voice cracked. “for flowers?”

“yeah, but they come with vibes,” man bun said, gesturing to the arrangements like they were ancient artifacts. sukuna turned on his heel and walked away, muttering, “i’ll give you vibes, idiot.”

by the time he’d hit his fourth florist, his mood was sourer than expired milk. flowers were so stupidly expensive. why did people even like them? they just died after a week. he considered the idea of pulling a tree out of the ground—free, big, dramatic. totally memorable. but then he imagined you looking at him like he’d lost his mind and immediately scrapped the plan.

“what are you even doing, sukuna?” he mumbled to himself, stopping on a street corner to rub his temples. the hoodie wasn’t doing much to hide him from people who were now giving him concerned looks as he stood there, muttering like a lunatic. eventually, he caved and called the only person who might understand his suffering: geto.

“yo,” geto answered, his voice muffled. “what’s up?”

“how the hell do people afford flowers?” sukuna barked into the phone.

“uh, normal people have jobs?” geto replied.

“i have a job,” sukuna snapped. “it’s called surviving high school and taking care of yuuji. do you know how much that little monster eats?”

“okay, calm down,” geto said, laughing. “why are you even buying flowers? is this for her?”

“obviously,” sukuna muttered, lowering his voice like the trees might overhear. “just go to the supermarket,” geto said. “grab some from there. they’re cheaper.”

“supermarket flowers?” sukuna sneered.

“they’re not bad,” geto said. “it’s the thought that counts, right? plus, you’re gonna make up for it with the rest of the promposal, right?”

“...yeah,” sukuna lied, glancing at his empty hands and feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. “good luck,” geto said, clearly trying not to laugh.

“shut up,” sukuna muttered, hanging up and sighing. supermarket it was, then. hopefully, you wouldn’t mind flowers that came with a discount sticker.

on his way to the supermarket, sukuna didn’t plan to get distracted. but there it was—a tuxedo shop with mannequins that practically mocked him, standing tall in their fitted suits. he told himself he’d just peek. just a look. but somehow, sukuna was inside, staring at a rack of tuxedos, his hoodie feeling embarrassingly out of place in the crisp, polished environment. he ran a hand through his hair, eyes landing on a sleek black tuxedo with satin lapels. it was classic, clean, and exactly the kind of thing you’d probably love seeing him in. just try it on. what’s the worst that could happen?

five minutes later, sukuna was glaring at his reflection in the mirror, fumbling with a tie that refused to cooperate. “stupid, overcomplicated—” he grunted, yanking at it so hard he nearly choked himself.

“you’re gonna kill yourself before prom, kid.”

sukuna turned to see a short, older man with a grumpy face and an air of authority that reminded him of a drill sergeant. the man—wasuke, according to his name tag—walked over and snatched the tie out of sukuna’s hands.

“stand still,” wasuke barked.

“i’m not a kid,” sukuna muttered, but he stood still anyway, letting wasuke adjust the tie with the precision of a man who had probably done this a thousand times. “you’re fidgety. just like i was before my prom,” wasuke said, his gruff tone softening slightly. “you nervous about asking someone?”

“...something like that,” sukuna admitted. wasuke grunted, finishing the tie and stepping back. “i was nervous too. didn’t think she’d say yes. but she did.”

“yeah? how’d you ask her?” sukuna asked, genuinely curious despite himself.

“showed up at her house with a dozen carnations, a guitar, and no plan,” wasuke said, chuckling. “played the worst version of wonderwall you’ve ever heard. still don’t know why she said yes, but she did. forty years later, she’s still here.”

sukuna blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity. for a moment, he imagined himself and you forty years from now. he hated how much he liked the thought. “cool story, old man,” sukuna said, brushing it off.

“you’ll figure it out,” wasuke said, patting him on the shoulder. “just don’t overthink it. and maybe don’t strangle yourself with the tie.”

with that, wasuke waddled off, leaving sukuna to face the mirror again. the tux fit perfectly, hugging his broad shoulders and tapering at the waist. the black-on-black look was sharp, especially with the skinny tie wasuke had wrestled into place. he looked...good.

too good, apparently, because he did the dumbest thing imaginable: he pulled out his phone and snapped a mirror selfie. “what am i even doing?” he muttered, staring at the photo. it was too late to stop himself, though—his thumb hit send before his brain could catch up.

the text went to you.

you.

“shit,” sukuna hissed, panic gripping him as he watched the message deliver. seconds later, your name flashed on his screen. video call. “hey!” your voice came through immediately, bright and excited. “are you trying on a tux? lemme see!” sukuna groaned, holding the phone at arm’s length so you could see the tux. “don’t freak out,” he muttered.

“oh my god, you look so good!” you squealed, and sukuna swore he felt his soul leave his body. “is this for prom? are you finally gonna ask me?” 

his heart slammed against his ribs. “uh, no,” he said quickly. too quickly. 

and then, like the coward he was, he hit end call.

he stared at his reflection, his ears burning. “god damn it,” he muttered, yanking the tie loose. wasuke’s voice echoed in his head: you’ll figure it out. “yeah, right,” sukuna muttered, shoving his phone back into his pocket and heading for the fitting room. he wasn’t sure what was worse—your reaction, or his. probably his. definitely his.

—

a hello kitty phone charm dangled from your phone, clinking softly every time you tossed it onto the bed after furiously texting sukuna. you giggled like a maniac, clutching your phone with both hands as his unread replies piled up.

you: omg you’re SO HANDSOME, why didn’t you tell me sooner???!!! you: can’t believe you look THAT good, excuse me while i pass away you: also if you’re dressing like that for prom, consider me yours all over again </33

your fingers flew across the keyboard, unable to stop yourself. there was just something about seeing him all polished up that had you swooning, even if he couldn’t see your reaction. sukuna being flustered? rare. sukuna being flustered and looking that fine? a national treasure.

your room was the perfect mix of chaos and comfort, a little shrine to your personality. fairy lights twinkled around the edges of your room, casting a soft glow over the colorful mess that was your bed—a heap of throw pillows and the softest blanket you refused to part with since middle school. your laptop sat open in front of you, the screen glowing with pinterest boards full of prom dress inspo: sleek satin silhouettes, dreamy tulle gowns, and even some edgy alternatives, because why not keep your options open? stickers covered your laptop’s lid—mostly cute animals, a few doodles of your favorite characters, and a sneaky, ironic skull-and-rose design that reminded you of sukuna.

your room smelled faintly of vanilla candles, the remnants of last night’s study session still lingering in the air. posters of your favorite bands and a few anime characters covered the walls, some slightly crooked but perfectly placed in your eyes. your vanity table overflowed with skincare, hair clips, and makeup products, while a laundry basket overflowed in the corner—a battle you’d deal with later.

you rolled onto your back, phone still clutched in your hand as you refreshed sukuna’s chat. no reply yet. that was fine. you grinned, imagining him struggling to come up with something cool to say.

you: don’t tell me you’re too busy being HOT to reply now 🙂‍↕️😹 you: also hi ily bye 🤭

closing your chat for a moment, you leaned back against your pillows and stared at your laptop screen. prom dress inspo was serious business, and as much as you wanted to keep teasing sukuna, you couldn’t ignore the excitement bubbling in your chest. prom was coming, and with a boyfriend like sukuna, it was going to be perfect—even if he was probably sweating bullets over the whole promposal thing. let him sweat a little longer, you thought with a giggle, clicking on yet another gown that made your heart skip a beat.

chapter four: gossip girls and a guy who can’t communicate

the bathroom was dimly lit, the flickering bulb above one of the stalls doing nothing to make you feel any better. you hadn’t even been planning on overhearing the conversation when you snuck into the last stall, phone in hand, planning to scroll mindlessly through pinterest to distract yourself during the break. but then their voices carried in, sharp and intentional, like knives aimed straight for your heart.

"i mean, can you believe she hasn’t been asked yet?" yorozu’s saccharine tone dripped with malice, her voice echoing off the tiled walls. "like, it’s kind of embarrassing at this point. you’d think someone as clingy as her would’ve forced sukuna to do it by now." 

mei mei let out a low laugh, the kind that made your stomach twist. "maybe he’s just not into her like that. i mean, bad boys don’t exactly do promposals, do they? unless it’s for someone worth the effort."

"exactly," yorozu snickered. "like, if he really cared, she’d have already been bragging about it all over instagram. but nope. maybe he’s keeping his options open? can’t blame him." their laughter cut through the air, and you pressed your hand over your mouth, trying to steady your breathing. your chest felt tight, and for a moment, you thought you might actually cry. not here. not in front of them. not where they could hear.

from the sinks, shoko ieiri’s voice came sharp and cutting, a stark contrast to her usual laid-back drawl. "god, can you two shut up? it’s break, not your audition for mean girls 2."

"what’s your problem, ieiri?" yorozu snapped, but there was an edge to her voice—shoko wasn’t someone to mess with lightly. 

"my problem is your ugly-ass voices ruining my smoke break," shoko replied, exhaling a cloud of smoke with practiced indifference. "if sukuna hasn’t asked her yet, it’s probably because he’s not a performative little attention whore like, oh, i don’t know, you two."

mei mei sniffed. "whatever. we’re just saying what everyone’s thinking."

"yeah, everyone," yorozu added, her voice dripping with mock concern. "but hey, maybe sukuna will surprise her. or not."

their laughter followed them out the door, and the sound of it made your stomach churn. the bathroom felt unbearably quiet once they were gone, the only noise the faint hum of the fluorescent lights. you stayed in the stall for a moment longer, gripping your phone so tightly your knuckles turned white. their words circled in your head like vultures, each one pecking away at your confidence.

maybe he’s just not into you like that.

bad boys don’t exactly do promposals.

someone worth the effort.

your mind spun in spirals. was it true? sukuna had been acting distant lately—or was that just your imagination? he hadn’t replied to your texts about the tuxedo selfie, and now that you thought about it, what if it wasn’t meant for you? what if it was meant for someone else? maybe mei mei and yorozu were right. why would someone like sukuna—brooding, aloof, undeniably cool—want someone like you? you heard the stall door creak open, and shoko’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. 

"hey. you okay in there?"

you hesitated before opening the door, forcing a tight smile. "yeah, i’m fine."

shoko frowned, her cigarette dangling loosely between her fingers. she looked at you for a moment, as if debating whether to say something, before finally muttering, "those bitches don’t know what they’re talking about."

"it’s fine," you lied, brushing past her. your hands were trembling as you gripped the strap of your bag, and the lump in your throat made it hard to breathe. shoko didn’t stop you as you left, her awkward, apologetic smile lingering in your mind as you walked down the hall, head low, trying not to let the tears spill over.

is he really stringing you along?

does he even care?

two days until prom, and he hasn’t said a word.

the voices in your head were relentless, their whispers feeding your growing self-doubt. and for the first time in your relationship, you wondered if you’d been wrong about sukuna all along.

the day had dragged on forever, the weight of yorozu and mei mei's words pressing heavily on your shoulders. by the time school ended, you were so emotionally drained you couldn’t even think straight. but when sukuna pulled up on his bike, leaning casually against it with that stupidly handsome smirk of his, you plastered on your best smile, determined not to let him see how much you were spiraling. "hey, handsome," you chirped, sliding onto the back of his bike, your voice just a little too bright. "miss me?" 

he glanced back at you as he handed you the helmet, brow furrowed slightly. "you good? you sound... weird."

"weird? no way!" you forced a laugh, strapping the helmet on. "just, you know, long day. classes were boring. people were annoying. the usual."

sukuna didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged it off, revving the engine as you wrapped your arms around his waist. the ride home was silent, save for the growl of the bike and the occasional honk of a car passing by. usually, you’d chatter about everything and nothing, filling the air with your stories, your laughter, your plans. today, though, the words felt stuck in your throat, your mind too tangled in thoughts of prom and sukuna and you. when he stopped in front of your place, you hopped off and handed him the helmet, hesitating for a moment before blurting out, "can i ask you something?" his eyes narrowed slightly, his usual nonchalance giving way to something more guarded. "what’s up?" 

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. "why haven’t you… you know… said anything about prom?" sukuna blinked, caught completely off guard. "huh? what d’ya mean?"

"i mean…" you trailed off, suddenly feeling stupid for even bringing it up. "it’s just… prom is in two days, and everyone else is, like, getting these cute proposals and stuff, and i thought maybe… maybe you’d—"

"oh, come on," he cut you off, his tone more defensive than he intended. "you know i’m not into all that cheesy shit. i’m not gojo or toji, running around making a scene." your heart sank at his words, and you tried to keep your voice steady. "it’s not about making a scene, sukuna. it’s about—"

"about what?" he snapped, rubbing the back of his neck. "you already know we’re going together, right? so what’s the big deal?" you stared at him, your chest tightening. "the big deal is… i just wanted to feel special, okay? like you care. but if that’s too much to ask, then—"

"you think i don’t care?" he interrupted, his voice rising slightly. "you think i’m just stringin’ you along or some shit? what kinda dumbass idea is that?" the tears you’d been holding back all day threatened to spill over, and you quickly looked away. "forget it. i shouldn’t have said anything."

"no, seriously, where’s this coming from?" he pressed, his frustration clear. "you’ve been acting off all day, and now you’re throwing this at me?"

"you’re impossible," you muttered, turning on your heel and walking towards your door.

"wait, hold up—" he started, but you didn’t stop, the lump in your throat making it impossible to respond. sukuna sat there on his bike, watching you walk away, his chest tightening in a way he didn’t know how to describe. he wanted to call after you, to explain that he was trying, that he wanted to give you something special, but the words just wouldn’t come out. instead, he clenched his fists, cursing himself under his breath. 

as you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it, tears streaming down your face. your thoughts were a chaotic mess. does he even care? am i being unreasonable? is this all in my head?

meanwhile, sukuna sat outside for a few moments longer, staring at your house with a sinking feeling in his stomach. he’d messed up, and he knew it. but how the hell was he supposed to fix it?

—

sukuna was lying on his bed, arms splayed out like he’d just been KO’d by life itself. staring at the ceiling, he let out a groan so deep it rattled his soul. it’s so over, he thought. this is it. the end. the fat lady’s singing. the curtain’s dropping. i’ve fumbled my way into boyfriend hell. his phone was propped up on his chest, the screen dimmed but still visible, waiting for the one thing that could bring him solace: a notification from you. no cute animal reel, no cheesy meme, no “omg this reminded me of you <3 :3” tag. nothing. nada. silence. sukuna stared at the unlit screen like it was actively mocking him.

so this is how it feels to die inside, he mused, scrolling aimlessly through tiktok, where every other post was either a cringy promposal or a “men ain’t shit” rant. great. he tossed his phone aside, facepalming hard enough to leave a red mark.

"bro, can you NOT," yuuji’s voice boomed through the thin wall, followed by the sound of something heavy slamming against it. "some of us are trying to get good sleep over here!" sukuna didn’t even flinch. "and some of us are trying to figure out why we’re the literal worst boyfriend on the planet, yuuji," he shouted back, voice muffled by his pillow.

there was a pause, and then yuuji called back, "sounds like a skill issue!"

yeah, thanks for the moral support, kid, sukuna thought bitterly, rolling onto his side and glaring at his phone like it held all the answers to his problems. should he text you? call you? grovel at your feet and beg for forgiveness? nah, too much. probably. "but what if it’s not too much," he muttered to himself, his overthinking spiraling like a tiktok rabbit hole. he grabbed his phone and opened your chat, fingers hovering over the keyboard. he started typing:

sukuna: "hey."

no, too casual. she’s probably still mad. delete.

sukuna: "sorry for being a dick earlier."

ugh, too vague. she deserves better than this half-assed apology. delete.

sukuna: "pls don’t leave me i’m stupid and i love you."

god, get a grip. delete.

he groaned again, tossing his phone across the bed and burying his face in his hands. he was spiraling, and not in the cute “omg i like her so much” way, but in the “my life is a flaming dumpster fire” way. the worst part? he couldn’t even properly apologize yet because the grand promposal he’d been planning wasn’t ready. and if he apologized now, you’d probably forgive him, but it’d ruin the big moment he was hoping to surprise you with. but what if waiting too long means she never forgives me at all?

“fuck,” he muttered to himself, staring at the ceiling again. “why is being in love so goddamn hard? people on tiktok make it look so easy. just dance, propose, and boom, happy ending. where’s my happy ending?”

from the other room, yuuji shouted, "SHUT UP, ROMEO!"

"eat shit, yuuji!" sukuna barked back, even though the kid was right.

god, he needed to get his act together before you realized you could do way better than him. but for now, he just laid there, shriveling up and dying like the dramatic dumbass he was, waiting for a miracle.

—

your room was a disaster zone: laptop open on your bed, your playlist stuck on “prom dress” by mxmtoon like it was 2019, your phone precariously balanced on a pile of mismatched socks, and tissues littered around like you were auditioning for a sad indie movie. the death metal hello kitty pajamas—thrifted with sukuna—clung to you like a bittersweet hug, the fabric somehow feeling heavier tonight. you weren’t about to cry over a boy. but also… you might cry over a boy. the duality of woman. and because emotional self-destruction is best paired with a sprinkle of pettiness, you grabbed your phone, snapped a cute selfie in said pajamas, and slapped a caption on it: “cozy nights >>>> everything else 💕”

posting it was an impulsive decision, but it was also calculated. you knew the power of a cute, casual post. it wasn’t technically aimed at sukuna, but you also weren’t about to sit here and pretend you didn’t want him to see it, to notice you, to maybe—just maybe—grovel a little in your DMs. the likes and comments started flooding in immediately because your socials were basically the hub for school tea and wholesome vibes.

mamaguro: our little fashionista!!! thrift QUEEN 😍

god bless that woman. she deserved the world.

shoko: (attached gif of a woman dramatically fainting on a chaise lounge)

classic shoko.

maki: ugh, if i thrifted this, mai would burn it out of spite. cute though. thumbs up. mai: shut up maki. also, not bad. 8/10. maki: don’t rate her outfit like it’s your stupid games, nerd. mai: cry about it.

sibling banter in your comments? worth it.

and then, of course, there was:

naoya zenin: so glad someone else noticed how good you look in pj’s 😏

you rolled your eyes so hard you saw another dimension. of course he had to slither in. you didn’t even bother giving it a pity like.

you refreshed the page once, twice, twenty times. still no sign of sukuna. no like, no comment, no DM. you threw yourself back onto the bed, groaning into your pillow like a banshee. was it really that hard to double-tap? and then, the spiraling started.

what if he didn’t like it?

what if he thought it was cringe?

what if he saw it and scrolled past, thinking about how much of a baby you are for posting this in the first place?

or worse — what if he thought it was for someone else? like naoya? 

ew.

you shook your head violently, trying to physically rattle the thoughts out. sukuna wasn’t that stupid. right? he had to know this was for him. but as the minutes ticked by, and the comments from your friends kept rolling in, the notification you wanted most stayed stubbornly absent.

boys are so stupid, you thought bitterly, scribbling “stupid sukuna and his stupid abs and his stupid everything” in your spiral-bound diary. it stayed locked away in your closet, expertly hidden in the event of an accidental snoop, because some things were too raw to share with the world. you hit play on “prom dress” for the 17th time that evening, feeling the lyrics a little too personally as you kept refreshing the post like a woman possessed. love, as it turns out, was truly exhausting.

—

sukuna had just slumped back in his chair, doom-scrolling tiktok and internally mourning the lack of a “girlfriend tagged you in a tiktok” notification, when your instagram post pinged onto his phone. for a solid five seconds, he froze. like a caveman discovering fire.

you looked ethereal. the death metal hello kitty pajamas, the soft glow of the fairy lights, the cozy chaos of your room in the background—sukuna didn’t even know how to process it. you looked like, uh, a… renaissance painting? yeah. except, sukuna was 98% sure he couldn’t spell renaissance if his life depended on it. 

r-e-n-a…sauce? god, no.

whatever.

like an idiot, his thumb hovered over the comment section for too long, his brain scrambling for something cool but romantic but not cringe but also boyfriend-worthy. and then, because he was absolutely useless under pressure, he panicked and commented:

sukuna: 🔥🔥🔥

the second he hit send, he let out the longest groan known to mankind, slapping his hand over his face. what the hell, sukuna? he might as well have sent a dm saying, “wyd ;)” for how basic that was. wasn’t he your boyfriend? he was supposed to be above fire emojis!

meanwhile, across town, your phone buzzed, and when you saw the notification, your entire soul ascended for half a second before crashing back down. fire emojis? that’s what he gave you?

your reaction was visceral. 

a gasp so loud it nearly knocked the fairy lights off your wall. your heart rate skyrocketed. every fiber of your being screamed, is this what my life has come to? my boyfriend thinks i’m fire-emoji-hot, not love-letter-hot? "oh my god, no," you muttered, pacing your room. this is it. the tiktoks didn’t work. i failed as a girlfriend. what’s next? marrying someone who comments ‘send bobs and vagene’ on my posts?

but before you could plan the ultimate self-roast in your diary, another notification came through. sukuna, clearly in full damage control mode, had added a second comment:

sukuna: my girl. 💪

you stopped mid-spiral, blinking at the screen. the simplicity of it. the possessive undertone. my girl. two words, and somehow your heart went from shriveled raisin to blooming flower.

back at sukuna’s place, he was staring at the new comment with narrowed eyes, second-guessing himself yet again. was that too much? was it cringey? what if she thinks it’s corny? what if she screenshots it and sends it to shoko, and they both roast me? what if—

and then, your like on his comment came through, followed by you pinning it under the post. sukuna let out a dramatic exhale, flopping back onto his bed. ah, love. exhausting, anxiety-inducing, and, somehow, totally worth it.

chapter five: when subtlety isn’t an option

dragging yourself onto campus that morning felt like a herculean effort. you were running on fumes and whatever scraps of serotonin sukuna’s ridiculously over-the-top goodnight message had left you. sure, it was sweet—ten whole lines about how he’d “reshape reality” for you or some nonsense—but was it an apology? was it a promposal? absolutely not. boys were a disease.

as soon as you stepped through the gates, gojo’s obnoxiously loud voice rang out, cutting through your existential crisis like a foghorn. “diva down!” he declared dramatically, clutching his chest like you’d personally betrayed him by showing up in less-than-perfect condition. before you could even muster a glare, geto’s hand shot out, smacking gojo square in the stomach. “read the room, satoru,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment. “ow!” gojo wheezed, doubling over. “i was just stating facts!”

you ignored their antics, trudging toward your locker, when the crackling intercom interrupted the usual morning chaos. nanami’s voice, as calm yet strained as ever, floated over the campus. “attention, students. all of you are required to assemble on the football field immediately. this is not a drill.” a murmur rippled through the halls. was it a fire drill? a surprise pep rally? something worse? you glanced around, half-hoping to see sukuna leaning against a wall with his usual “i don’t care about anything” face, but he was nowhere to be found.

“weird,” you muttered, joining the slow shuffle of students heading outside. on the field, clusters of confused teenagers were gathering under the bright morning sun. you scanned the crowd, squinting against the light. no sign of sukuna. where was that idiot? meanwhile, gojo and geto had caught up to you. “what do you think this is?” gojo asked, clearly already bored.

“hopefully not another motivational speaker,” geto muttered. “or a fire drill,” you added, your voice flat.

“whatever it is, it better be quick,” gojo whined. “my skincare routine does not involve standing in direct sunlight for this long.”

you rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to the crowd. something about this felt off. and you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was happening, it had something to do with sukuna.

the murmurs in the crowd were growing louder, restless. one of the jocks inhaled, clearly gearing up to yell something stupid—probably “this is so lame” or some other brilliant insight—when the jumbotron sparked to life with a loud buzz. everyone froze, heads snapping toward the giant screen.

there he was. 

sukuna. 

in a tuxedo.

he looked… disheveled, to say the least. his tie was slightly crooked, and his bloodshot eyes gave him the appearance of someone who hadn’t slept in years. or maybe ever. but the way he leaned back in a chair, dressed like a mob boss with the confidence to match, had the crowd whispering excitedly.

“oh my god, is this for real?”

“is he—he’s wearing a tux! is this, like, a movie?”

“is he single?” one girl whispered, earning a sharp glare from her friend.

you? you were just standing there, slack-jawed, because what was he doing?

on screen, sukuna let out a deep sigh, his voice lower and rougher than usual, probably from the late hour. “hey,” he started, glancing off-camera like he wasn’t sure how to say this. “so, uh. this is for… my girl.”

your heart stuttered.

“listen,” he continued, running a hand through his hair, “i know i’m the world’s worst boyfriend. like, bottom of the barrel. absolute trash. no one’s worse than me.”

“i mean, he’s not wrong,” gojo stage-whispered from behind you. geto smacked him again.

sukuna’s voice dropped even lower, making half the girls in the crowd swoon. “but i’m trying. and if i have to humiliate myself in front of the entire school to make it up to you, then so be it.”

your breath caught as the screen cut to black with a simple message: turn around.

you whipped around just in time to see sukuna—your sukuna—riding his motorbike onto the football field like he was in a damn action movie. the crowd gasped, screamed, and scattered as he skidded to a stop in the middle of the field, yuuji riding behind him, holding on for dear life. “this is better than coloring claaaasssss!” yuuji yelled, his little voice carrying across the field. in his tiny hands was a bouquet of… lego flowers? some of the pieces were dangerously close to falling off. behind them, sprinting full speed like his life depended on it, was choso, carrying an actual vintage boombox over his head. half the girls in the crowd were now screaming, but not for sukuna.

“who’s that?”

“he’s so hoott! does he go here?”

“you’re all so basic,” geto muttered under his breath.

as sukuna parked his bike, yuuji jumped off and ran toward you, yelling, “you hafta say yes! otherwise big bro will cause mass destrunkshun!” 

sukuna groaned, glaring at his little brother. “yuuji, shut up!” but yuuji ignored him, shoving the lego flowers into your hands. “here! they never die, just like big bro’s love for you!”

the crowd erupted in a mix of laughter and cheers as sukuna finally got off his bike and walked toward you, his face red but determined. “listen,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “i know i’m an idiot, and i suck at this whole ‘romantic boyfriend’ thing. but i love you, and i want to take you to prom. so… will you be my date?”

you blinked, tears welling up as the boombox suddenly blared heart of glass by blondie. choso gave you a thumbs-up, still holding the boombox over his head like a champ. “say yes! say yes!” yuuji chanted, jumping up and down.

“oh my god, yes!” you finally shouted, throwing your arms around sukuna’s neck. the crowd roared, clapping and cheering as sukuna hugged you back, a relieved smile breaking across his face.

“finally,” gojo muttered. “that was so painful to watch.” but you didn’t care about the crowd, or the noise, or even yuuji yelling, “yay! no destrunkshun today!”

all you cared about was the way sukuna looked at you, like you were the only person in the world.

—

sukuna flopped dramatically onto your bed later that evening, still in his slightly wrinkled tuxedo from the ridiculous escapade earlier, his head hitting the pillow with a soft thump. “do you even understand what i went through to pull that off?” he groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “i might as well retire. i’m too old for this.” you snorted, sitting cross-legged on the floor, your gaze flicking to the lego flower bouquet proudly perched on your desk. “you’re eighteen, sukuna. relax.”

“eighteen with back pain,” he muttered, shifting to look at you. “and a vendetta against a certain flower set. do you know how many pieces are in that thing?”

“clearly, enough to drive you insane,” you teased, reaching over to nudge his shin. “so… tell me how it all went down. i need to know what mastermind put this together.”

he rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow with an exaggerated sigh. “fine. but just know that i better get some kind of boyfriend-of-the-year award for this.”

“you’ll get a sticker. now spill.”

“okay, first of all,” he started, counting off on his fingers, “i had to beg nanami to bend the rules. i was like, ‘listen, dude, just one announcement. i swear i won’t get detention for the rest of the year.’”

“and he believed that?” you raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

“well…” sukuna grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “i might’ve also thrown in a promise to help him clean the chem lab after school for a month. he was this close to saying no, though.” you laughed, imagining nanami’s face at sukuna’s desperate pleas. “sounds about right. and choso?”

“ah, choso,” sukuna said dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest like he was reciting a shakespearean monologue. “the real goat. he flew in from across the state—i’m talking dead of the night—to bring me that stupid lego flower set.”

“you made him travel for legos?” you gasped, barely holding back laughter.

“hey, it was symbolic!” he defended, pointing a finger at you. “and he didn’t just deliver it; he stayed up with me all night building it. i thought we were gonna lose a piece at one point, and let me tell you, i almost cried.” you couldn’t stop giggling at the image of sukuna and choso frantically building lego flowers in the middle of the night. “okay, okay. what about yuu?”

“oh, he was the easiest to convince,” sukuna said, smirking. “i just told him, ‘power rangers need good deeds on their resume, like helping their big bro.’ he was all in after that.”

“of course he was,” you muttered fondly, shaking your head.

“so, there you have it,” sukuna finished, stretching out on your bed with a satisfied sigh. “a night of blood, sweat, and legos. all for you, baby.” you smiled, leaning back against the edge of your bed. “you’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“yeah, but you love me,” he shot back, his tone smug.

“unfortunately,” you teased, though your cheeks warmed at his words. there was a brief silence before you hesitated, biting your lip. “sukuna?”

“hm?” he hummed, eyes half-closed.

“mei mei and yorozu said some stuff yesterday. about you and… us.”

his eyes snapped open, narrowing. “what kinda stuff?”

you shrugged, trying to play it off, but he wasn’t having it. “they said you were stringing me along. that you’d never—”

“oh, hell no,” he growled, sitting up so fast he almost hit his head on your fairy lights. “i’m gonna—”

“no, you’re not,” you interrupted, grabbing his arm before he could launch himself off the bed. “we don’t beat people up, remember?” he grumbled under his breath, clearly displeased. “fine. but if they say one more thing—”

“they won’t,” you said firmly, giving him a look. “because we’re gonna ignore them and enjoy our nap instead.” sukuna sighed, flopping back onto the bed with a resigned groan. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered, tugging you down beside him.

“and you’re lucky i put up with you,” you shot back, settling into the warm space next to him.

the two of you lay there under the glow of your fairy lights, the faint scent of your vanilla candle filling the room. the lego flower bouquet sat proudly on your desk, a quiet reminder of sukuna’s chaotic but heartfelt effort. as you drifted off, you couldn’t help but smile. love with sukuna was messy, dramatic, and over the top—but it was yours.

you tried. you really tried to fall asleep. but how could you, when sukuna had casually dropped an “i love you” like it was just any other sentence? sure, he said it before when he asked you to prom, but that was in the middle of a chaotic proposal involving legos and yuuji screaming about power rangers. this? this was casual. this was deliberate. this was real.

your brain spiraled faster than your pinterest boards during finals week. did he mean it? like, really mean it? was it a slip-up? does he just throw around the word “love” like that? you stiffened in his arms, your body going ramrod straight like a ruler, and sukuna, ever the perceptive one (at least when it comes to you), noticed immediately. “you good?” he mumbled, voice groggy as he cracked one eye open.

you didn’t respond right away, too busy drowning in your thoughts. was this what all those romance novels meant by ‘confessions catching you off guard’? but this wasn’t a confession, was it? or was it?

“hey,” sukuna nudged you lightly, his brows furrowing. “you’re acting weird. what’s up?”

you sat up suddenly, twisting to face him, your fairy lights casting a soft glow on his confused expression. “you… you said you loved me.”

his eyes widened slightly, and for the first time in… well, ever, sukuna looked genuinely nervous. “uh… yeah? i mean, yeah. i did. i do. why?”

“you do?” you pressed, your voice rising slightly. you couldn’t help it; the man was notoriously bad at expressing his feelings, and now he was just casually confirming his love for you like it was no big deal? “uh, yeah?” sukuna scratched the back of his neck, suddenly very interested in the corner of your ceiling. “i mean… why else would i do all this crap? the flowers, the tux, the boombox…”

“so you’re saying you really love me? like, love-love me?” you clarified, your hands now gesturing wildly because, of course, this needed to be crystal clear. at this point, sukuna’s face was turning an alarming shade of pink—like, my melody type pink, and you could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. “yes, okay? i love you. love-love you. happy?”

you blinked at him, your heart doing that annoying fluttery thing it always did when he looked at you like that, all flustered and frustrated but undeniably sincere.

“wait, why are you smiling?” he groaned, covering his face with his hands. “this is so embarrassing. i knew i should’ve just—”

you didn’t let him finish, leaning forward to kiss him, your lips cutting off whatever self-deprecating nonsense he was about to spew. when you pulled back, his ears were now as red as his eyes, and he stared at you like you’d just stolen his soul. “i’m smiling,” you said softly, “because i love you too, dumbass. and because i think it’s cute when you get all flustered.”

“cute?” he repeated, deadpan. “did you just call me cute?”

“yep,” you chirped, lying back down and snuggling into his chest. “get used to it, my melody.”

sukuna groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes, but you could feel the way his heartbeat quickened under your cheek. and as he tightened his hold around you, mumbling something about how you better not tell anyone about this, you smiled to yourself. maybe you wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon, but at least now, you’d be lying awake with a warm, fuzzy feeling instead of overthinking yourself into oblivion. love-love really was something else.

chapter six: the painting, the prom, and the prince

the evening of prom was finally here, and sukuna rolled up to your house looking, dare he say it, hot. okay, maybe he wouldn’t say it out loud, but judging by the double-take you gave him when he stepped off his bike in that sharp tux, it was safe to assume you thought so too.

and then you walked out.

he swore his brain short-circuited. he’d seen you in a hundred different outfits, every single one somehow better than the last, but this? this wasn’t just a dress. this was art. 

“you…you look…” he stammered, his usual cocky bravado completely out the window. “uh…you look like…you know…like…a renaissance painting or something.”

you blinked at him, clearly amused. “a renaissance painting?”

“yeah,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck, clearly regretting his life choices. “you know, like, those really fancy ones. with, uh, good lighting.” you bit back a laugh. “i’ll take that as a compliment.”

“you should,” he grumbled, averting his eyes because looking at you too long felt like staring into the sun. “you look perfect.”

as the two of you got on his bike and headed to prom, sukuna felt like he was riding on air. that was, until you turned to him halfway there and asked, “so, do you have the tickets?”

oh, shit.

his mind raced as he remembered exactly where those tickets were: stuffed into his t-shirt so you wouldn’t find them during his promposal planning. and then, last night, in a frenzy of cleaning and trying to look cool, he’d tossed the shirt into the laundry. “uhhh…” he stalled, trying to come up with a lie, but your raised eyebrow told him you weren’t buying it.

“‘kuna,” you said, already exasperated. “please don’t tell me—”

“okay, okay, maybe i left them in the washing machine,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. you groaned, but to his surprise, you didn’t seem mad. instead, you reached into your purse and pulled out two tickets. “lucky for you, i bought these ages ago,” you said, smirking.

“wait, what?” he blinked, genuinely stunned.

“what? i wasn’t about to risk you being unprepared,” you teased.

“okay, wow, first of all, rude,” he said, though he couldn’t help but grin. “second of all, you’re amazing. third of all…can we pretend this didn’t happen?”

“not a chance,” you replied, laughing.

fast forward to the gym, where the school had, of course, gone full cliché with the decorations: fairy lights, balloons, and a weirdly overused “enchanted evening” banner that looked like it had been recycled from at least three other events. but none of that mattered when you spotted yuuji and choso standing near the punch table. well, you saw them. sukuna, on the other hand, saw chaos.

“why the hell is yuuji here?” sukuna hissed, his hands already on his temples. “don’t ask me,” you said, equally baffled. “how does a seven-year-old even get in here?”

“puppy eyes,” sukuna muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.

sure enough, yuuji was grinning ear-to-ear, his hair plastered to his head in spikes from what must have been an entire bottle of power ranger-branded gel. “big bro! you made it!” yuuji shouted, running up and practically tackling sukuna in a hug. “yuuji,” sukuna groaned, prying the kid off him. “what are you doing here?”

“helping!” yuuji declared proudly. “plus, i used your tickets!”

sukuna’s jaw dropped. “what?”

“he’s surprisingly resourceful for a kid,” choso muttered, clearly wanting to be anywhere but here as he adjusted his tie. “next time, don’t leave important things lying around.”

“you’ve got to be kidding me,” sukuna grumbled, running a hand down his face.

meanwhile, you were barely holding back laughter, especially when you noticed the cluster of girls gawking at choso from across the room. “looks like choso’s got some fans,” you whispered, nudging sukuna.

“yeah, well, they can have him,” sukuna muttered. “i’ve got everything i need right here.”

and just like that, the stress melted away, replaced by that smug, confident grin you loved so much. prom was a mess, but it was your mess. and honestly? you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

—

the night was winding down, and with prom nearing its end, you and sukuna made your way toward the photobooth. sukuna had his arm slung over your shoulder, and you leaned into him, already envisioning how cute your pictures would turn out. but, of course, peace was short-lived.

“oh, look who it is,” came mei mei’s unmistakably smug voice.

you stiffened, turning toward her and yorozu, who stood there with their arms crossed, both looking like they had nothing better to do than spread bitchiness. “figures you’d show up,” yorozu sneered. “thought you’d be too busy fixing your ‘perfect relationship.’”

“is this where you get your weekly drama fix?” sukuna drawled, his voice low and sharp. he glanced between the two with a look that could’ve cut glass. “or did you just run out of things to do since no one wanted to take you?” mei mei opened her mouth to retort, but before she could get a word out, sukuna bent down and scooped you up bridal style.

“sukuna!” you yelped, clinging to him in shock.

“don’t waste your energy on people like them,” he said simply, striding past the two women without so much as a second glance.

“you can’t just—hey!” mei mei called after him, but sukuna didn’t bother stopping. yorozu muttered something under her breath, but even she knew better than to push it.

“you really didn’t have to do that,” you mumbled, though you couldn’t hide the warmth in your voice. “didn’t have to?” he scoffed. “like hell i’d let them talk to you like that.”

the line for the photobooth wasn’t long, and before you knew it, you were stepping inside with sukuna still holding you as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“you’re not putting me down?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “nah,” he said with a smirk. “you look too good tonight. gotta keep showing you off.”

you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed all the same.

once inside the booth, sukuna finally set you down, pulling you close for the first set of pictures. the two of you posed like a typical couple at first, all smiles and laughs. then sukuna decided to make things interesting by pulling faces, sticking his tongue out in one, and pretending to bite your shoulder in another.

“these are gonna look so stupid,” you laughed, pushing at his chest. “nah, they’re gonna be fire,” he said, grinning.

just as the final photo flashed, the curtain whipped open, and toji’s booming voice rang out.

“move over, lovebirds! we’re crashing this party.”

toji and mamaguro squeezed into the booth, nearly squashing you and sukuna against the wall.

“what the hell, toji?” sukuna groaned, glaring at the intrusion.

“what?” toji said innocently. “you think i’m missing out on free photobooth pics?”

“scoot over, lovelies,” mamaguro chimed in, pushing toji aside so she could squeeze into the frame.

“there’s no room!” you said, laughing as you were squished further into sukuna.

“there’s always room for one more,” came another voice, and before you could even register what was happening, gojo leapt into the booth, landing half on toji and half on sukuna.

“what the—get off me!” sukuna growled, shoving at gojo.

“smile, everyone!” geto called, popping his head into the frame at the last second.

the camera flashed, capturing the chaos in all its glory. by the time the prints came out, you were crying from laughter, holding onto sukuna to keep from doubling over.

“what a night,” you said, wiping tears from your eyes. “yeah,” sukuna said, his voice warm as he looked at you. “what a night.”

—

the picture on sukuna’s instagram was a beyonce level of iconic. the both of you stood side by side, wearing your prom king and queen sashes, though sukuna refused to actually wear his properly—it hung off his shoulder like he was in a fight club. you, however, looked perfect as always, your sash gleaming and your tiara slightly askew from all the dancing. sukuna was leaning just enough to rest his chin on your head (a “power move,” as he called it), and you were holding the bouquet of lego flowers proudly. the caption? equally sukuna.

prom king and queen, obv. any losers who’ve got something to say can take it up with me. she’s the queen, i’m the muscle. try us, idk 🤷‍♂️ also yeah, she's mine. no refunds.

within seconds of posting, the comments started flooding in.

gojo: the muscle? more like the court jester 💀

yorozu: lmao no one even voted for you two 💀💀💀

choso: solid pic 🔥 i’ll be charging for the lego flowers btw

mamaguro: MY BABIES LOOK AMAZING!!! 👑😭💕

toji: me and my girl did it better 😹

“yorozu really can’t keep my name out her mouth,” sukuna muttered, already cracking his knuckles. “ignore her, my king,” you teased, throwing a pillow at him from your desk chair.

your room was a warzone after the night’s chaos. your shoes were discarded near the bed like a crime scene, your fairy lights had a sad strand that had gone out mid-celebration, and your makeup wipes, bobby pins, and jewelry were strewn all over your vanity. you’d kicked off your sash somewhere in the mess, and your dress was neatly hanging off the edge of your chair because despite the chaos, you couldn’t risk ruining it. meanwhile, sukuna was lying sideways on your bed, scrolling through his phone like he owned the place, his tux jacket slung over the back of the chair you were sitting in.

“should we clean up?” you asked half-heartedly, already knowing the answer.

“nah,” he said, throwing his phone onto the bed. “it’s post-prom. chaos is mandatory.”

before you could argue, sukuna’s phone buzzed. he picked it up, squinting at the email notification, and then froze.

“what’s up?” you asked, turning to look at him.

he stared at the screen for a second before a grin slowly spread across his face. “i got in.”

“what?”

“sports scholarship,” he said, holding the phone up like it was a trophy. “same college as you.”

your jaw dropped, and then you were practically tackling him onto the bed, laughing and hugging him at the same time.

“we’re going to college together?” you asked, beaming.

“hell yeah, we are,” he said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. “best decision ever.”

and as the night wore on, with your messy room, tired limbs, and full hearts, you realized he was absolutely right.

epilogue

the morning sun cast a golden hue on your driveway, and there was a quiet buzz of excitement mixed with nervous energy as the taxi rolled up. your suitcases, meticulously packed with everything you thought you might need for college, sat neatly by the curb. sukuna, leaning against the taxi door, looked as relaxed as ever, though his towering frame and sharp features gave him an intimidating edge. “you ready?” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. he was holding your suitcase because, apparently, carrying your own bags was “not allowed” anymore.

“as ready as i’ll ever be,” you said, patting the strap of your carry-on bag nervously. the realization that you were actually leaving home was starting to hit.

“you’ve been glowing lately, by the way,” sukuna said casually, as if he hadn’t just paid you the highest compliment. “probably ‘cause you’re spending all your time with me.”

you rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the small smile creeping onto your face. “it’s called a skincare routine, sukuna. maybe you should try one.”

before he could retort, a loud, familiar voice shattered the morning calm.

“WAIT! WAIT!”

both of you turned to see yuuji sprinting toward you, waving something in his hand like a man possessed. “YOU FORGOT THESE!”

you squinted, trying to make out what he was holding. as he got closer, it hit you: your prom queen sash and tiara. “oh my god,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands. “i knew i was forgetting something.”

yuuji skidded to a stop in front of you, panting heavily. “you’re welcome,” he wheezed, thrusting the items into your hands. “how could you forget these? you’re a queen!”

“thanks, yuuji,” you said, taking the sash and tiara from him and trying not to laugh at his dramatic delivery.

“don’t forget to wear it on your first day of college!” he added, grinning ear to ear. “yeah, sure,” you said, ruffling his hair. “and maybe i’ll wear a ball gown to class, too.”

“you’d still look better than half the people there,” sukuna chimed in, snatching the sash from your hand and draping it over your shoulder like he was crowning you all over again. “okay, that’s enough theatrics for now,” you said, adjusting the sash so it wouldn’t wrinkle. “we’ve got a flight to catch.”

yuuji’s face fell slightly, and he threw his arms around you in a sudden, tight hug. “i’m gonna miss you,” he mumbled into your shoulder.

“i’ll miss you too, yuuji,” you said, squeezing him back. “but we’ll visit, okay? and you better facetime me every week.” he nodded, pulling back and giving sukuna a pointed look. “you better take care of her, big bro.”

“always,” sukuna said without hesitation, ruffling yuuji’s hair in return. “and don’t eat all the snacks mom buys, okay?”

“no promises,” yuuji replied, grinning.

as you settled into the taxi and it pulled away from the driveway, you glanced back to see yuuji waving wildly until he was out of sight. you leaned back in your seat, holding the sash and tiara in your lap. “i can’t believe i almost forgot these,” you said, shaking your head.

“you packed a literal hello kitty lamp,” sukuna said, one eyebrow raised. “but not your prom queen stuff. priorities.” you laughed, swatting his arm. “the lamp’s for your dorm, thank you very much. i’m not letting you live in a depressing man cave.”

he smirked, but there was a softness in his eyes as he looked at you. “yeah, yeah. but hey, this is it, huh? college.”

you nodded, the weight of the moment finally settling in. “yeah. it’s the start of everything.”

“good thing we’re doing it together,” sukuna said, reaching over to take your hand.

and as the taxi sped toward the airport, you realized he was right. this was just the beginning—not just of college, but of a whole new chapter of your lives. and with sukuna by your side, you had a feeling it was going to be a damn good one.

thank you for sticking till the end <3 this was a drabble i decided to format into a full length fic because i recently came across my old prom photos and the nostalgia was very real. while i can safely say i did NOT have the ideal high school experience, i am deffo making my reader[s] have it 🙂‍↕️ if you'd like to find out what type of reader are you (based off of my fics), click on the quiz link here <3 thank u for reading !!

[ynyaan]

𝙃𝙮𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙨 𓏲𝄢 | 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𓆩♕𓆪

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝙎𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙮𝙏𝙤𝙎𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 | 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: You who are sensitive to sounds, take Sukuna Ryomen to a festival. "What the hell was that? An act?" Sukuna scoffs, his eyes never leaving yours. Maybe, he won't ever look away again.

tw. description of panic attack, slight ooc sukuna(?)

note. imagine Sukuna in any body you want. I personally did not write him having four hands in mind, though this takes place in the heian era. so sukuna is sukuna in whatever body you wish him to be in <33

.ᐟ 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙤𝙣

You worked as a maiden at a shrine high in the mountains. It was established by the king of curses himself. Performing duties that consist of protecting and cleaning the shrine for the king to glamor at once he comes by. You weren't even sure why he visits everyday, it's not like the shrine grants miracles or oracles everyday and you doubt the king of curses even believes in the Gods.

Though since you've been stationed alone (with Uraume coming by sometimes), You have no choice but to make talk with the king himself. Plenty of times, you've overstepped boundaries, annoying Sukuna and asking him questions unrelated to your profession. You were so sure you were only alive because Sukuna actually enjoyed your company.

"My king!" You strode to Sukuna, who was closely approaching the shrine. He walks past you, not acknowledging your presence, yet it is by routine that you follow him wordlessly.

"There are no messages for you today, my king. The shrine here has been quiet and peaceful." you bowed your head even if his back was turned. The shrine was most likely quiet due to Sukuna's constant presence, his aura so dark it wards off the good spirits.

Sukuna walks over to his usual seat close to a tree. A seat that has a gorgeous view of the village below. You sit next to him silently, adjusting your white-painted kimono with streaks of gleaming red.

You fiddled your hands together. You recall a newspaper you read earlier today. It promoted a festival, the first one you’ll have a chance to witness. You hoped to bring the king of curses with you since you've heard all sorts of stories about friends, lovers, and families having a splendid time inside the festival, eating all sorts of junk, and enjoying the breeze till night falls.

"Out with it woman." Your daydreaming has been stopped abruptly, not realizing you've been staring at the horizon for a while now. You look at Sukuna, who has been staring at you for who knows how long.

"Ah..it's nothing, my king." you nervously say without thinking, knowing Sukuna expects a response the moment he asks for one.

"Lying will get you nowhere, doll." He says before relaxing his body whilst changing his sitting position to a more casual one.

"T-The festival, my king." You gulp, close your eyes, and take a deep breath. After all, these may as well be your last words.

"I was hoping to invite you, for I intend to participate tonight." You manage to finish your sentence alive, but you are offered a scoff and a scowl. "Why do you think I'd go with you? A creature as lowly as yo-"

"Sukuna. I-I promise you, it will be fun!" You cut off Sukuna, your hands curled into a fist, and your pleading eyes lie on his. Sukuna’s eyebrows rose, surprised by your disrespect. Regardless, you slowly moved closer to him and proceeded to softly grab his arm.

"Sukuna, please! Just give it a try. I guarantee you won't regret it." You plead once more, recalling the memory of when you first tried saying his name. It was the first time you thought the end of your life must be due. Surprisingly, Sukuna did nothing but stare at you with those piercing eyes before walking away. An unspoken cue that he allows you to.

"Brat, go by yourself." He says before standing up and leaving the shrine, leaving you alone. Did you just try to invite the King of curses to a night together? and somehow you are still alive? you count that as a win.

The time to go to the festival has arrived, and you are currently standing outside the entrance. The festival opening gave u a warm greeting with the decor, the lanterns above that gleamed red and gold. Muffled voices could be heard everywhere, and people were constantly rushing in and out.

You haven't finished admiring the outside when someone had bumped into you from behind. You quickly turn around and see Sukuna Ryomen, dressed in a proper kimono that covers his chest. He doesn't look at you. He simply huffs with his arms crossed.

"Sukuna!? you came!" You smiled, catching Sukuna staring at your lips.

"Whatever, doll. It's my duty as king to oversee what ruckus mortals have caused." He grumbles before walking past you and into the crowd.

You smirked in triumph. This night will be more than good, you could tell. You grabbed Sukuna’s arm and walked next to him into the festive night.

Shops of food and trinkets were to be seen, the sky lit up by stars and lights, and the stage preparing something of the sort. You and Sukuna push through the crowds and into the shops. You were about to get separated till you felt the man behind you grab your hand sternly. Your hands felt warm, your heart pounding in your ears, and all there was left to do was push forward.

"Mmn! This taste'm reall’ good'm" You try to word out while chewing on the street foods you bought. "You really'm should try shom' kuna'." You say, still munching.

"What did you call me?" You turn your head at him, his expression showing pure surprise. "..Hm? I called you-"

dun, dun, dun. The hearing of drums could be heard loudly throughout the festival. Following that was a series of cheers and yells from the crowd gathering around the stage.

Dun Dun Dun Dun. Your grip on your food tightened. Sukuna glances at you, but you don't seem to notice. He'd expect you to rush over to the stage by now.

Your heart starts pounding. The taste of food left on your tongue feels uncomfortable. "Sukuna, I think we should-"

Bam, bam, bam, the drums were now louder and repetitive without stopping. A pair of guitars chimed in as well, and a speaker took on the middle. The crowd yells and cheers- and jumps- and the- lights and the scene escalating in front of you was moving and everything is so, so, loud.

You breathe. Or maybe you don't, because Sukuna has grabbed you by your arm. Your stomach is knotting so tightly, and your heart is pounding so loudly it's ringing in your ears. The drums, the guitar, the speaker, the lights, the crowd, the-

Sukuna grabbed you on both sides of your arms. You try to focus on his face. Why is he yelling, you wonder? what is he yelling, you wonder?

Your vision cleared slightly. Sukuna, who is always stone-cold, is looking at you with an emotion you haven't seen on him before. His eyebrows were bridged together, and he's saying too much, saying things too fast. He doesn't understand what’s happening, he doesn't know what to do.

Another loud boom rang in your ears, and the speaker screamed, 'Get ready for tonight's biggest hit yet!'

You were shaking like a leaf by now, your arms slowly covering your ears as your eyes were tightly shut. Suddenly, someone was carrying you, the breeze hit your skin way too fast, and you realize that Sukuna was running.

You don't know how long you’ve been carried, but the moment you opened your eyes, you were atop a hill, the breeze cold and the noises muffled. The festival could still be seen, and the lights were still so bright.

You wipe your tears. A second ago, you felt as if your eardrums were to burst and your irritation would explode out of you.

"You scared me there, princess." You look behind to see Sukuna sitting on the grass next to a tree. His words came out softer than he intended it to be.

"What the hell was that? An act?" Sukuna scoffs, his eyes never leaving yours. Maybe, he won't ever look away again.

You walk slowly toward him, you felt exhausted and limp. You walk till your standing right in front of him.

"I'm sorry Sukun-"

Fireworks. A sudden, jumpscare-like sound appears behind you.

You flinch hard, but before you could cover your ears, big hands wrap around your head and pull you down. Sukuna pulls your head to his chest, his hands covering your ears, and your face flushed at his actions.

His chest was rock solid, but surprisingly, it was so comfortable. It felt safe, undeniably secure. You thought you could fall asleep in his arms right then and there.

No, you wanted to see the fireworks. You were here for the festival; it's not fair not to see it to the end.

You slowly shift your head upwards to look at Sukuna. But before you could part your lips to say something, he kisses you.

Sukuna Ryomen, kisses you.

His hands were still covering your ears, and he used his hold on you to pull you even deeper. His kiss was passionate, deep, harsh.

Your lips part, and your mouth is still gaping. Sukuna smirks wordlessly before moving your position so you could see what was left of the fireworks.

Your back was rested on his chest, and his hands were still covering your ears. You forgot to react to the kiss and were taken aback by the beauty of the fireworks. It was a shame you couldn't tolerate the sound of it, but the sight was so much more worth it.

This was made possible because of Sukuna. Sukuna, the King of curses who has kissed you tonight. You were sure your life would never be the same again.

an. apocalypse by cax started playing while writing the kiss scene; im soft.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 <𝟥

[estellan0vella]

No Pass, Just BITCH ❀ includes: Gojo, Sukuna ft Uraume, Toji & Ino (Requested)

Masterlist

You’re in the kitchen, the savory aroma of dinner filling the air as you move around, checking the oven and stirring the pot on the stove. It’s been a long day, but you’re almost done preparing a meal that you know Satoru will love. You smile to yourself, thinking about how he always appreciates your cooking.

Just as you’re about to finish up, you hear him call from the other room, his voice loud and clear, "Hey, bitch! When’s dinner ready?"

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you freeze. Did he really just call you that? Your heart sinks, and a wave of hurt washes over you. You’ve never heard him speak to you like that before. You try to brush it off, thinking maybe you misheard, but the sting lingers.

You turn off the stove and wipe your hands on a towel, your appetite suddenly gone. As you walk into the living room, you see Gojo lounging on the couch, a casual smile on his face as he scrolls through his phone.

"Did you just call me a bitch?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

He looks up, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Yeah, why? What’s the problem?"

You feel a lump form in your throat. "That’s not okay, Satoru. It really hurt my feelings."

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, Gojo’s eyes widen, and he jumps up from the couch, his face filled with genuine concern. "Oh my god, babe, I’m so sorry. I was just messing with you! It was supposed to be a prank. I didn’t mean to hurt you."

You cross your arms, looking away as tears threaten to spill. "Well, it wasn’t funny."

He steps closer, reaching out to gently cup your face. "I’m really sorry. I thought it would be a harmless joke, but I see now that it wasn’t. Please forgive me?"

You take a deep breath, feeling the sincerity in his apology. Slowly, you nod, still feeling a bit shaken. "Just… don’t do it again, okay? Words like that aren’t a joke."

Gojo pulls you into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I promise, I won’t. I love you too much to ever hurt you again. Now, how about we finish making dinner together? I’ll even do the dishes."

A small smile tugs at your lips as you lean into his embrace. "Okay. But you’re on dish duty for the rest of the week."

He chuckles, rubbing your back soothingly. "Deal. And again, I’m really sorry."

You nod, feeling the tension slowly melt away. "Just make sure the food doesn’t burn while we’re in here."

Gojo grins, leading you back to the kitchen. "I’ll be your sous chef tonight. Let’s make this the best dinner ever."

"Asshole," You mutter under your breath and Gojo huffs out a laugh.

"Deserved,"

You’re in the kitchen, carefully chopping vegetables for dinner, when you hear Sukuna’s voice booming from outside the kitchen.

“Hey, bitch! When’s dinner ready?”

You freeze, the knife hovering mid-air. The insult stings, and you feel your face heat up with a mix of anger and hurt. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions, but the sharpness of his words makes it hard.

Before you can respond, Uraume whirls around from the sink, their usually calm expression twisted in disapproval. They cross their arms and fix Sukuna with a stern look.

“Lord Sukuna, that was completely uncalled for,” Uraume says, their voice sharp and reprimanding. “You can’t speak to them like that.”

Sukuna leans against the doorframe, a smirk playing on his lips. He seems entirely unbothered by Uraume’s scolding.

“Oh, come on, Uraume. It’s just a joke,” he says, waving a dismissive hand. “Lighten up a bit.”

Uraume’s eyes narrow, and they take a step closer to him. “A joke or not, it was disrespectful. You owe them an apology.”

You glance between the two of them, feeling a bit lost and still stung by Sukuna’s words. Sukuna’s smirk fades slightly as he looks at you, realizing the impact of his “joke.”

He sighs, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to you. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry. It was just a prank, I didn’t mean to upset you.” His tone is softer now, more sincere.

You stare at him for a moment, the sincerity in his eyes making it hard to stay angry. Finally, you nod, accepting his apology. “Just… don’t do it again, okay?”

Sukuna grins and ruffles your hair playfully. “Promise. Now, how about that dinner?”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. As you turn back to the vegetables, you hear Uraume give a small, satisfied huff.

“Thank you, Lord Sukuna,” Uraume says, their tone lighter before they glance at you with a small smirk. “And don’t forget, respect goes both ways. So go ahead”

"Dickhead," You say and Sukuna laughs, tossing his head back.

"Nicely done,"

You're in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and humming softly to yourself, enjoying the quiet moment of preparation. The evening sun filters through the window, casting a warm glow over the countertops and filling the room with a cosy ambience.

Suddenly, Toji Fushiguro strides in, his presence as commanding as ever. Without so much as a greeting, he leans against the doorway and crosses his arms, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Hey, bitch, when's dinner gonna be ready?" he asks, his tone casual but the words hitting you like a slap in the face.

Your hands freeze mid-chop, and you turn to glare at him, anger bubbling up inside you. "Excuse me?" you snap, your voice sharp. "What did you just call me?"

Toji's smirk widens, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. "You heard me," he says, clearly unfazed by your reaction.

Without thinking, you grab the nearest spatula and hurl it in his direction. It whizzes past his head and clatters against the wall behind him. Toji bursts into laughter, the sound echoing through the kitchen.

"What the hell, Toji?" you shout, your face flushed with anger. "What's wrong with you?"

He raises his hands in a placating gesture, still chuckling. "Relax, it's just a prank," he says, shaking his head. "I didn't mean it. I was just messing with you."

You stare at him, your heart still pounding with fury, but now mixed with a hint of confusion. "A prank?" you repeat, your voice laced with disbelief.

Toji nods, his laughter dying down as he walks over to you. "Yeah, just a prank," he says, placing a hand on your shoulder. "I didn't mean to piss you off. Just wanted to see your reaction."

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "Well, congratulations, you got one," you mutter, swatting his hand away.

Toji grins and pulls you into a quick hug. "Sorry, couldn't resist," he says, his voice softer now. "Dinner smells great, by the way."

You sigh, shaking your head but unable to suppress a small smile. "Just don't call me that again," you warn, pointing a finger at him.

"Promise," he replies, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Now, how can I help to make it up to you?"

You hand him a knife, the tension easing out of the room as you both get back to preparing dinner together, the earlier anger fading into the background.

You’re bustling around the kitchen, trying to get dinner ready after a long day. The scent of sizzling garlic and onions fills the air, mixing with the tangy aroma of tomatoes and herbs simmering in a pot. You’re focused, almost lost in the rhythmic chopping of vegetables when you hear the front door creak open.

Ino strides in, his usual confident swagger evident in every step. He tosses his bag onto the couch and makes a beeline for the kitchen. Without any preamble, he leans against the counter, crosses his arms, and smirks. “Hey, bitch, when’s dinner ready?”

The words hit you like a slap. Your jaw tightens, and you can feel a hot flush creeping up your neck. You turn to face him, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?” you snap, gripping the wooden spoon in your hand like a weapon. “What did you just call me?”

Ino’s smirk doesn’t falter. “You heard me. I asked when dinner’s ready.”

You see red. Without thinking, you grab the nearest object—a half-full glass of water—and hurl it at him. He dodges, but not quickly enough. The glass shatters against the wall, and water splashes across his shirt.

“Are you out of your mind?” you shout, furious. “How dare you talk to me like that!”

For a moment, the room is silent, the tension thick and suffocating. Then, Ino bursts into laughter, holding up his hands in surrender. “Wait, wait! It’s just a prank! Relax, okay?”

You glare at him, chest heaving, trying to process his words. “A prank?” you echo, incredulous.

“Yeah,” he says, still chuckling. “I was just messing with you. I didn’t think you’d get so mad. Look, I’m sorry. It was supposed to be funny.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside you. Slowly, the anger starts to ebb, replaced by a reluctant amusement. “You’re an idiot,” you mutter, shaking your head. “A complete idiot.”

Ino grins, wiping water off his face. “But I’m your idiot,” he says, stepping closer and pulling you into a hug. “Come on, let’s finish dinner together. I promise no more pranks. At least not today.”

You can’t help but smile, the warmth of his embrace melting the last of your anger. “Fine,” you say, leaning into him. “But you owe me. Big time.”

“Deal,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now, what’s next on the menu, chef? You hopefully"

"Kepp dreaming dickhead," You mutter. "I'm off the menu all week because you think you're a comedian"

"Huh?!"

Requested by @alixezae

[ihopeiexplode]

📱 “Getting Along” [←Previous | Next→]

—

Well in the end Sukuna ended up giving you a ride whether you liked it or not, finally, you arrived at Gojo's house and well, it's no surprise it's a mansion..how does he live here all alone??

As you both knocked the door quickly opened with gojo greeting the two of you, turns out everyone else was already there and they were just waiting for you two

As you both entered and took a seat suddenly uraume spoke up and gave a remark

"looks like the lovebirds came together Afterall"

Before you could say anything Sukuna already beat you to it

"were not even dating"

"yeah but I bet you wish you were"

You just looked at them with confusion? What do they mean by that? Before you could speak up about it gojo suddenly announced

"Since you two are here why don't you guys do some bonding for your project?" Gojo would say as he pointed to both you and Sukuna, I mean he has a point so nothing wrong with that

"how about you guys bake?" Shoko would throw a suggestion as she stopped the conversation she had and turned to look at the two of you

The moment you heard baking your eyes lit up as you grabbed Sukuna's hand and made your way towards gojos large kitchen

Everyone saw how you just grabbed Sukuna's hand so casually and how he didn't even mind?? How many times have you guys even held hands for his reaction to be like that??

—

The view from the kitchen is visible from the living room, so for short anyone could see what you two were doing

While everyone else was doing their own thing, playing games, gossiping, watching a movie you two were just playing around the kitchen as you baked..

Luckily none paid attention to the two of you, yet.

—

You could be giggling as Sukuna on the other hand was just smirking as you played around with the flour, to be fair he started it..you were making the cookie batter and when you asked for flour he threw some on your face

He expected you to get mad but you just giggled and threw some at his face, hopefully, gojo wouldn't mind the mess..

—

"wanna taste the cookie dough before I put it in the oven?"

"why not,"

He would grab a nearby spoon as he scooped up a small piece of batter and ate it

"it taste good"

"wait really?"

He nodded before picking up another portion of the dough with his spoon as he fed it to you

As he fed it to you everyone just had to see...

—

After that you two were finally done baking. You two baked cookies, brownies and some cupcakes

While everyone ate, you didn't really ate the desserts you made and Sukuna noticed

"why aren't you eating?"

"I'm not sure if I wanna try, what if it tastes bad?"

He'd roll his eyes before grabbing a brownie off the plate and feeding it to you once again, while he fed you the Brownie you two weren't aware of how you guys looked while doing it...

Everyone just looked dumbfounded you two could be a couple at this point...

And honestly you on the other hand? Didn't mind seeing it as a friendly gesture.. honestly how oblivious are you?

"see it tastes good doesn't it?"

"mhm I guess so,"

"wait here I'll make you a drink"

Before Sukuna could go leave and make the said drink, gojo just looked shocked, you get a drink but everyone else don't???

"what about us??"

"make your own drink,"

—

Once again everyone else just stared.

Sukuna was watching you as you drank the drink he made specifically just for you,

"it tastes good you should try it"

He could even protest because you already shoved the straw in his lips

Okay so suddenly you're both ignoring that you indirectly kissed 2 times?? Are both of you oblivious and clueless??

—

After eating all of you watched some movies, played some games, and then gossiped, which was what you all were doing currently

All of you were gathered around in a circle as you all shared some of the gossip you heard,

It was mostly you, Yuki, Gojo, and Uraume who were gossiping seeing how you four knew almost every drama happening in college

Uraume would be quiet for the time being as they saw how Sukuna kept staring at you throughout the whole thing, not to mention he even looked like he was smiling??

—

After everyone was done with all the activities time to actually go to sleep.. once everyone finished setting up their sleeping beds everyone eventually drifted off to sleep, everyone but Sukuna all he did was just stared at the ceiling as he smiled to himself as he recalled the events from earlier

After about 35 minutes, he heard some noises, as he looked around to see what, or who was making it his eyes landed on you as you kept moving around and how agitated your facial expression looked were you having a nightmare or what?

Should he go help?

Nah you'll be fine

—

So how come he walked towards your place and held you in his arms? And how come you suddenly calmed down and won't let go?

He didn't want to let go either, so his solution? To sleep with you of course! You won't mind right?

—

"are you seeing this?"

"mhm...there quite literally cuddling, watch when you bring up the topic he'll say 'hes just being nice' "

Both Geto and Uraume would say as they watched how both you and Sukuna were cuddling with one another

While on the other hand...Yuki and Gojo were taking pictures from every possible angle

—

Eventually as you woke up you sat down before locking eyes with geto and uraume

"slept well?"

Geto would ask you, while you just felt confused and tilted your head, before you could reply suddenly you felt someone beside you sit up as well,

As you turned to look and see none other than Sukuna,

"WHAT THE FUCK"

"Mhm you two were cuddling, gojo and yuki took pictures"

Uraume would say next,

"WHAT"

While you looked in complete shock Sukuna just stayed silent, it's too early for him to make a big fuss

—

—

[⛩️] @: Likes & Reblogs R appreciated! ^^

A/N: whoever Picked fluff in my poll I don't like you/j also no the poll wasn't for this it's for something else, also isn't it so happy guys

Taglist: @catobsessedlady @hellomeow12 @0-candlecove-0 @shivzypuff @swirlingcurses @1-800-choke-that-ho @attackonnat @chilichopsticks @getoxmahito @memenojutsu @uhnanix @ichorstainedskin @needtoloveoutloud @love-me-satoru @s-j320 @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @goj0ssunglasses @svtvrnal @haitanibros0007 @punkhazardlaw @mslydiaa @jayathelostdragon

[winterrbluess]

Winn, Winn, Winn, Winnnnnn!!! I came to your inbox to gush over our beloved sukuna!! I'm so happy seeing him being the grumpy pookie that he is 😭 him pouting as he's chewing on his food LIKE ARE U KIDDING MEE???? AHHH 🥹🥹 if big and evil why so adorable??? and him asking uraume "Why did you not get cold being by my side." absolutely BROKE ME. 😭 I need him to be loved and happy in his next life 🥹 god this ask is all over the place but IM IN MY FEELS !! gege I owe you once AGAIN 😭🫶

Olaaaaaaa!!!!!! I get you!!!! I'm feeling all over the place toooo😭😭😭 like I'm actually buzzziingg with excitement!!! And thank youu! for coming to my inbox i NEED to gush about this man for hours! Infact I was going to make an ask in your inbox 😂😂

He is the literal definition of grumpy cat!! Yesss he looks sooo cuteeee pouting like that i want to bite him and squish his cheeks!! (Please someone needs to sedate me🫠) Gege just so casually flared my obsession with Sukuna😮‍💨😮‍💨

That made my heart ache too! 😭😭 God please he needs all the love and happiness in his next life! And to show his question with th last panel.....🥹🥹Gege when I catch you Gege. That panel is *my weakness* I'm still not over it and this man just made it worse for me! (I love it soo much) Also this made Sukuna's bond with Uraume so beautiful ahhhh!! I can write a whole book right now..

Also he is now literally our old man. It's so poetic how Wasuke lived a peaceful and normally happy life showing what Sukuna could've been if he wasn't treated as a curse. God Yuji's last monologue to Sukuna hits even harder now!!!

[hxhhasmysoul]

sukuna is a character that I'm most curious to know his story because he is very cold and calculating, he doesn't get attached to anyone and he is very proud, he said something interesting that someone he knew looked like Yuji, did he have a brother who It has the resemblance of Yuji or a friend. Why does he hate love so much, did he like someone in the past or was he not loved? I'm looking forward to his story. What do you think, thanks for this interactions with us on tumblr.

Sorry for answering so late.

I'm desperate for a Heian flashback, too.

I talked a little about what I think about Sukuna's attitude towards relationships, love and what I think about the possibility of him and Yuuji being twin.

I don't find Sukuna to be fully cold and calculating, or incapable of attachment. The last one I explained in the link above.

My opinion is that Sukuna doesn't like emotional introspection because he compartmentalised his mind.

He quite casually mentions being and unwanted child but it's hard to believe he had always been this cool with that. The word he uses, 忌み子 (imiko), contains the character 忌 that holds meanings like: abhorrent, abominable, detestable, disgusting, horrid, repugnant, ominous, inauspicious, unlucky and shunned. These children were rejected by society due to the societal norms at the time. So not only was he rejected by his immediate family, but he wasn't welcome anywhere. For a child to experience that and survive, it must have formed a lot of his views on life.

Like for example he's very calculating when it comes to his long term plans and his fights but he's not always cold. During fights it's pretty clear that he usually enjoys himself. He's quite a dick about it too, very self-indulgent. To Uraume, though, he's always very kind.

And when it comes to Yuuji, he needs to always bully Yuuji. He can't help himself. For a long time it feels like an emotional reaction to something he doesn't want to deal with.

Yuuji is the one making him actually introspect. It starts with the fight right after Sukuna takes over Megumi, he starts to ask Yuuji genuine questions. And now in the current fight, Yuuji has become his full on focus, someone that makes Sukuna rethink his life philosophy.

But the current fight kind of puts a wrench in the theory that Sukuna knew Yuuji in the past. If he did, he really doesn't seem to remember. So that sentence about Harima might not refer to the past at all, just be a reference to Midori Harima and her art, because Sukuna and Uraume are little art enthusiasts. though maybe Gege will tie it to the past, we'll see.

But the fact that he doesn't present a consistent image is what I find interesting about him.

[lesbiansanemi]

Anyways. Sukuna fics I would write if I had the time and energy and I don’t understand why no one else has

Relationship study between him and Uraume. It would start in the Heian era, perhaps exploring how they met. But mostly it would be about their relationship and how and why Uraume is the only person Sukuna seems to enjoy being around and treats casually. What is different about them? Why is Sukuna so attached? Why is Uraume so attached to Sukuna? Things that are all very interesting imo. Could go through Sukuna getting sealed and Uraume’s thoughts on that and how and why they waited through fucking centuries for Sukuna to return, why they put up with Kenjaku and her scheming, up through Uraume and Sukuna’s eventual reunion

The Sukuna and Yuuji role swap that y’all already know about (will be written eventually but. Yk. Very eventually….)

An AU where Sukuna takes a different approach and decides to treat Yuuji with some fondness and care but all out of manipulation to use him to get the rest of his fingers quickly and turn on jujutsu society because that’s beneficial to Sukuna. He’s canonically very clever and I could see him pulling something like that, and I think it’s interesting to explore other versions of his relationship with yuuji beyond what we see in canon. But no, I don’t think he would ever genuinely cares about him

Actual good Sukuna/Uraume smut where sukuna is a pillow princess and Uraume does whatever the hell they want with him and also it’s actual weird freaky monster sex beyond just giving sukuna two dicks and calling it a day

Hyper niche AU where sukuna manifests in Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara all at the same time (ask me for details, there’s a lot, it’s technically my oldest jjk AU)

Soulmate thing between Sukuna and yuuji but NOT romantically. More in a cosmic horror sense for both of them as in yuuji has to grapple with how similar to Sukuna he can be and sukuna can despise having any connection with someone as weak and pathetic as yuuji and also the horror of knowing they are bound forever and ever and there’s never any escape from the other in this life or the next

[mythicamagic]

Do you think Sukuna could have ever been attracted to a woman? Because it seems to me that he hates even contact with others (he cut off Jogo's hand for daring to touch him and killed Yorozu after she hugged him). Also, Gege makes a lot of emphasis that Sukuna is lonely and doesn't know love, that's why I have such a hard time writing something for Sukuna, because I genuinely don't see him feeling anything for anyone 😅

Your interpretation is valid, anon, but talking personally about the attraction thing- I think not wanting casual contact with someone doesn't automatically mean someone is asexual (saying this as an asexual) or that Sukuna is devoid of sexual/romantic feelings just bc we never see him make moves on a woman or man. Having personal boundaries and your bubble is important, especially for someone as prideful as Sukuna. Maybe touch is okay when it's on 'his' terms and no one elses.

There might be a myriad of reasons for not liking touch, such as a buried trauma response. Reminds me of when a guy casually touches Guts' shoulder from Berserk:

Or for another example, its a bit like how Sesshoumaru was depicted in OG Inuyasha, an apathetic, untouchable beauty. I don't think a character needs to have a fling onscreen just to prove their sexuality.

About emotional attachment though - Canon Sukuna is possibly sociopathic though just bc of some of the evidence shown as you said about love not being real ect, but then he is visibly happy to meet up with Uraume again.

When writing fanon Sukuna though, I think it's totally fine to make him as horny or lovesick as you like. If we all kept strictly to canon interpretation it would stifle the fun of fandom creation! ^^ If it makes you happy to write Sukuna as unfeeling then do so, but if you want him to be romantically interested in someone you can just justify it as another side to his personality we as the audience don't see because he's busy having fun wrecking shit.

[kenjakusbraincum]

the way i just binged all ur fics and drabbles.. scrolled through ur account 4 a while too 💀😭 UR SWAN LAKE FIC MADE ME COMBUST IN THE BEST WAY I HAVE THAT FEELING IN MY STOMACH WHERE LIKE UR ALL HAPPY AND GIDDY N SHIT hehe it made me lowkey wanna learn sm graceful thing

ugh i love sukuna 2 so much hes so 😝😫😫😫😫 like if he threatened 2 kidnap me and make me his whore or smt like... DONT THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME?!!? i would fall to my knees if i saw him

also also do u think the Vows!Sukuna would bury his [dead] s/o? or would he js eat them 💀 like do u think he'd have a teensy tiny funeral for her with him and the burial of her? or like a pretty big-ish one with most of the servants/uraume? idk it crossedmy mind js now

ur writing is also so good.. i love the way u write sukuna 😫 hes even more hot ngl like a man of the arts!?! sign me tf UPPPPPPPP

wait also also imagine sukuna with a painter s/o!?! AAA THEY [I] WOULD PAINT HIM STUFF OMGGGG <333 THAT'D BE SO CUTE?? like imagine as a gift [like the reverance!s/o that gave him the crochet dollys] they made a painting of them worshipping him? [yk those religious paintings where they paint god what if the s/o painted him like that all god-like and shit FALFNAOGNOL] or painting the garden?? mayb a painting with the blood of his enemies LOL but ghfhhf that'd b so cute [i am a casual painter this was self indulgent bc i would absolutely do all of these things] like mayb they go outside js 2 pain 4 funsies [sukuna may indulge this but he'd get jealous like how when reverance!s/o picked up crocheting LMAO]

this is getting rlly long i luv u bestie [ur my bestie now]

Ahh I noticed all the notifications and omg THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! You left a sweet comment on everything, I'm so grateful for the dedication!! I'll get back to each one I promise 🥺🥺

I'm so happy you liked Swan lake so much!! It's one of my flop fics that ppl don't talk about as much, like I get double the comments for Vows and Reverence still every day, MONTHS after writing them and Swan lake is always kinda forgotten 😭 Which is a shame bc I really put my whole kenjakusbraincumussy into writing it, like I was writing it really intensively for days on end 😭

See I was thinking about how Vows Sukuna would've disposed of reader. I don't think he would eat them just bc at the point when they die there's really not much left to eat of them 😭 Maybe he'd keep one of their bones as a souvenir. Like a little rib of theirs maybe. I'm not sure if he would make a funeral, but if he did it definitely wouldn't have included many people, maybe just the servants that were really close to reader. I think he would cremate them with his fires, that would be a nice personal sendoff.

Sukuna being cultured and a man of the arts is just my favorite thing because it's so subversive. He's a big ass guy who also happens to look like a monster, is known only for his strengths in the battlefield and how funny is it to come into his house and see pretty paintings and statues and his personal little orchestra of musicians and dancers that keep him entertained when he's bored?? How funny is it to imagine him closing a book and being like that one was a banger.

ABOUT THE PAINTING S/O... I draw as a hobby and I absolutely think about this all the time 😭 But I must admit I've thought more about the other way around where Sukuna commissions an artist to paint reader so he can always remember their beauty even when their little human lifetime passes, so their face can always grace the hallways of his mansion and people who walk buy can wonder, who is this pretty person? Why are there so many paintings of them everywhere? AHHH Sukuna 💔💔

[missingn000]

Chapter 45 was so great! ✨️

The dynamic between Sukuna and Yuuji in TPG is so special to me.💖 I love the way you write it so much!✨️ Sukuna caring for Yuuji but being unable to show it to him (or anyone). The fact that he gave him a nice dream (that Yuuji probably saw as a taunt, some kind of "You'll never be this happy again" if he even figured out it's from Sukuna at all).

Yuuji trying to hide how much he suffers from his family (poor baby😔) is so sad yet so in character.

I love how Nanami tries to understand Sukuna and talks to him in order to help Yuuji. Like, it's not easy, Sukuna has the attitude of a feral cat that thinks it's God. Every single conversation he's a part of is painful for everyone involved (including himself), but Nanami still tries despite it all.

"I'll make the world hate me more than I hate myself." Sukuna is so lucky (or unlucky) that Nanami did not figure that one out.

"Have you ever considered that not caring is indeed possible, just not for you?" Nanami called him out so hard with this one.

Kenjaku get hit in the head with a brick challenge. I can't imagine being over 1000 years old and spending my time stalking a random family in order to ruin their lives and also to keep ruining the life of some dude (Sukuna). There is being a hater and there is whatever Kenjaku has going on.

Choso!✨️ The fact that he woke up and asked about his brothers before anything else is so cute and also so devastating at the same time (having no identity outside of being the oldest brother who must protect the younger ones must be tough) (but also how could he even have an identity outside of that, he was stuck in a tube in some basement).

Poor guy is not even 1 second old and is already experiencing gaslighting😔.

Uraume!🎉 Not here yet, but they're mentioned at least. "I love a bitch with a real frozen heart." Once Uraume appears is anyone gonna make a connection between the ice gremlin and every time Sukuna mentioned his love for the cold/ice? Because he does that in almost every chapter since he appeared. He said he loves them. King of not being subtle at all✨️.

I can't believe Yuki and Toji were this close to making it official only for Kenjaku to drop the "both of your ex wives died". Wow.

Yuki!💖 I love her so much! Her desire to be seen by Maki and Gojo as a mom, wanting to be called "mom" by them... It's very sweet, but also devastating knowing how much it hurts that both of them didn't tell her about Maki not being Toji's daughter.

The fact that Choso just approaches her and is like "prepare to die", but then has to remember why he is supposed to kill her💀. He is so funny without meaning to.

"This is for Riko." Wow, Kenjaku really went there. This is so unnecessarily cruel. He can act all he wants like his goal is to prove a philosophical point, but his actions are waaay past that. Tormenting Kuroi while wearing Riko's face, gloating to Wasuke, this whole thing just now... He must enjoy it to a certain extent, even if he doesn't want to admit it.

Poor Kashimo being stuck in that horrible work environment.😔 All they wanted was to fight Sukuna, but now they are discovering feelings and have to deal with Kenjaku on a daily basis.

✨️💖✨️

HIII I AM SO HAPPY YOU LIKED IT 💞 god yeah yuuji and sukuna are SO devastating huh. it's like watching a tragedy play out every time they interact. yuuji tries to hide how much he suffers, while sukuna disguises his suffering as cruelty and malice, and the one person to whom he occassionally shows the truth both doesn't believe him and doesn't care. nanami's curious, but it's closer to morbid curiosity -- like driving past a burning car on the highway and looking to see who's dying inside, even though you know it'll upset you. those three all make me so insane.

I AGREE, FUCK KENJAKU MAN. he's so cruel and for what?? it's such casual cruelty too, which makes it so much worse.

chosoooo! he has arrived!! but at what cost lol. he cares so much about his brothers and has constructed his identity solely around that. which is a major theme of the upcoming fight!!

URAUMEEEE<3 im glad you caught the reference lol. sukuna is so fucking funny, bro is not being subtle at all with his love declaration yet no one has a clue wtf he's talking about, like always. the most undersharing oversharer in the history of time.

tojiyuki omg ikr ;__; so close and yet so far. stay tuned for more developments with them!!

[kakovoulos]

Some Modern AU HC's I laughed about with Milk in DMs

He is 1 year older than Satoru, and 8 years older than Yuji.

He plays the guitar, smokes that good-good, has NO friends (maybe Uraume), a delinquent, started his tattoo journey at 15 with a whole back tattoo, then casually adding more as time goes on. Has multiple piercing's. Can cook in this AU, and actually really good at it.

Loner delinquent in school. No one talked to him, and he didn't talk to anyone either. School was boring and he barely attended class, but he was in no way stupid. He would still turn in his assignments with above average scores. Applying himself he could have easily scored top 10 in his grade.

Instead he skips classes to go get stoned because he doesn't care and does whatever he wants

Spoiled rotten as he grew up til Yuji came along. Relentlessly bullies Yuji every day despite the age gap. Hates how he has to be a good role model and share his stuff with the little shit. Also mom dotes on this kid too much? Gets jealous stupid easily and hates it. Convinced Yuji exists for him to bully the shit out of only.

When Yuji and Megumi become friends, Satoru is the one who often came to pick up his little brother after playdates. Sukuna didn't even know who Satoru was even though he's the "popular prince" of their school. Satoru starts inviting himself over after seeing Sukuna cook once and was enamoured. This started the end of everything for Sukuna both at home and school.

Satoru would NOT leave Sukuna the fuck alone.

All of a sudden this weird mother fucker starts trying to hang out with him and befriend him like WHY????? Sukuna is so confused because he has no friends, and preferred it that way. All of a sudden this random ass dude just starts hanging off his shoulder?

They threw hands once and it ended in a tie. Sukuna never fought anyone who was able to almost beat him, and he started to respect Satoru a little bit more, or take actual notice of him at least.

After this, the whole vibe of the school changed seeing the two hang out more. Girls got jealous cause they're being ignored for this loner ass delinquent, but they don't do/say anything cause Sukuna believes in equal rights means equal fights.

This ofc means Satoru is at Sukuna and Yuji's place a lot along with Megumi. They all play video games together. Sukuna spends less time torturing Yuji because of Satoru.

At some point Sukuna finds out Satoru is bi, but Sukuna swears up and down he's not attracted to guys at all. That said, they skipped class once and Satoru went back to class limping. For Sukuna, he wasn't gay but a 20 is a 20 🧍‍♂️

Sukuna, in fact, is not gay. Satoru is just an extraordinary exception. (he's like extremely demiromantic/aromantic)

Satoru gave Sukuna Valentines chocolate and became Public Enemy Number 1 for the remainder of his time at school. That said, Sukuna didn't start returning the favor until their last year in high school.

After they graduated, Sukuna gets a job at Waffle House (or whatever the equivalent there is in Japan) and Satoru gets his own job. They work and go to college together, eventually even getting an apartment with each other. And they were roommates 👀

[solarsa1nt]

𐚁֙࿐ TIGER

ryōmen sukuna x fem!reader

Tags — fluff , established sukuna/reader , casual mentions of mass murder

Notes — there’s slight one-sided yorozu/reader! one-sided being Yorozu liking reader but her not reciprocating it

It happened at an unsuspecting time— no hint or foreboding leading up to it, just the slight ripple that made the curse pause where she stood.

The cat she had been trying to lure closer skittered off by the sudden stop, running into the darkness of the trees but Y/N's attention was no longer on the animal.

"Really? Took him long enough." Y/N huffs into the silence of the night, looking off into the direction the familiar presence was coming from.

"See, I knew someone would reincarnate 'Kuna!" Y/N grins to herself proudly. "No way was I going to it after what he did. I wonder if Uraume-chan had a part in it...?"

The servant had stuck loyally to Y/N's side after Sukuna's sealing, but after countless times of trying to persuade her, Y/N managed to convince Uraume to go and do what they wished to— find a way to reincarnate Sukuna into the new era.

And when Uraume had inquired on why Y/N never tried to find a way to bring him back herself?

"It'd be like admitting defeat." Y/N explained as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I am not letting him think he earned my forgiveness."

"Forgiveness...?" Uraume muttered in confusion, silence spanning on for a moment before their eyes widened in realization. "That argument over what Sukuna-sama did to those tigers you took in?"

"Yup!" Y/N nodded in confirmation. "He can grovel at my feet— maybe destroy a few cities while he's at it —and beg a little, then I'll forgive him."

"Ah... I understand, Y/N-sama..." Uraume's eyes gleam with amusement before they quickly corrected their expression.

"Anyway, you can feel free to try and reincarnate him, but I won't be participating!" Y/N shook her head firmly to prove her point. "Maybe he'll learn not to do shit like that again after a thousand years!"

Y/N was dragged out of the memory as the presence disappears again, blinking incredulously.

No, it didn't disappear. Y/N realizes, disbelief washing over her. It's just been covered— as if a blanket was put over it —so that means...

"Can his vessel... control him?" Y/N frowns pensively, a hand held to her chin. "Uraume-chan mustn't be a part of the plan then, they wouldn't condone anybody suppressing Sukuna."

"Huh... oh well!" Y/N shrugs, indifference clear on her face before she snickers to herself.

"Deserved."

━━━━

Y/N felt Sukuna's presence spike once more before she finally reunited with him. Oddly enough, it was in Tokyo unlike the first time, when it had been in Sendai.

She didn't care much about those occurrences, though. The third time was by-far the most interesting.

Unlike the first two times, she happen to be in the area when Sukuna was released.

Well, close enough to the area, she was only a prefecture over, residing in some rundown hotel within Shinjuku, when the familiar presence spiked, notably more dangerous than all the other times.

"Hmm?" Y/N hums to herself, looking out the window towards the direction of Shibuya.

She had felt something off about the city— but it wasn't anyone familiar so she payed no mind.

But now...

It only took a couple minutes to arrive where she felt his presence the strongest— and she was vaguely surprised to what she found.

Two teenage girls along with a cursed spirit with a volcano on his head were bowing to what was undoubtedly Sukuna, except...

"Hah! No way! You got stuck in the body of a teenager?! A teenager is who's been suppressing you all this time?!" Y/N couldn't help the wide grin that spread across her face, barely managing to dodge a 'cleave' that had been aimed at her.

"Wh— Y/N?" Sukuna quickly cuts off whatever he was about to say, facing the woman who was still laughing with a surprised expression on his face before it shifts to plain unamusement.

"Hi 'Kuna! Terrorizing children? Can't say I'm surprised, just a tad disappointed in you." Y/N shakes her head in mock disappointment, walking over to stand infront of Sukuna.

"You took a long time to reincarnate me. I had expected—" Sukuna was unceremoniously cut off by Y/N, much to the disbelief and horror of the three that were bowing next to them.

"You think I had any part in this? No way!" Y/N laughs shortly, her tone being almost condescending, as though he were a child that didn't understand something obvious.

"I wouldn't waste any of my time trying to bring you back after what you did." Y/N glares at Sukuna, putting a hand on her hip.

"What?" Sukuna asks, stunned by the woman's behavior.

"And he doesn't even remember!" Y/N clicks her tongue in disapproval. "God, men suck... maybe I should've accepted Yorozu's offers of marriage. She's certainly more romantic, even killing that town for me as a gift..."

Sukuna's eye twitches at that, vaguely noting to kill that insufferable woman if she’s somehow still alive, "What are you speaking of?"

"You killed those tigers I took in! And you didn't even apologize for it!" Y/N snaps, scowling at Sukuna. "You're a self-centered bastard, you know that?!"

Y/N kicks Sukuna back into a wall, the cement crumbling from the force, Sukuna falling to the ground as blood falls from his skull that had been cracked from the impact.

"Hmph!" Y/N looks away, ignoring the four glaring red eyes that were drilling holes into the side of her head as she opens her eyes again, her view landing on the three.

"Men are shit." Y/N sighs, patting each of the girl's heads as she ignores their flinches, not even sparing a glance at the cursed spirit as she looks back at Sukuna.

"C'mon, I'll forgive you... eventually." Y/N says, walking towards Sukuna and leveling him with an unimpressed look.

"You can start by getting me another tiger."

"I am not wasting my time—"

"Nuh uh! If you want my forgiveness, then get me a new tiger, I happen to know where the nearest zoo is as well."

"...You're insufferable."

"You love me, though~"

© 𝓢OLARSAINT 2024 ─── all of my works belong me alone! do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or spread any of my works in any other social media platform. these have only been reloaded on my own accounts on ao3 and wattpad

[hxhhasmysoul]

holding them accountable

canon divergence

rating: G

in my defense, this gave me brain worms.

____________

The smell of burning plastic made Yuuji scrunch his nose. A moment later it reached Hanami, who'd been plating bushes around the paths, and the curse instantly dropped the soil bag it was holding.

It looked around and pinpointed the source of the smell. Then took off towards it. Yuuji followed, afraid there would be trouble. Others though so too, Chousou followed him obviously, but Uraume also came.

"Which one of you fools set fire to the trash!?" Projected directly into Yuuji's brain, oh how he hates that feeling. Hanami, though eyeless, was staring down Jougo and Sukuna.

Yuuji realised that the two of them, plus Kenjaku and Mahito had gone to load the trash bags onto the van. They'd gone at least an hour ago, considering how much Yuuji's playlist'd moved since then.

They didn't even reach the van, the bags were lying right there, now soaking wet because Dagon put them out.

"Do you not comprehend how disastrous it is for the environment?" Hanami was fuming.

Sukuna was smiling wickedly, one of his eyes was glancing ad Jougo. The volcano head was sweating.

"Me, it was me," he said.

Hanami turned on their heel and left, the "how could you" remained unspoken but painfully clear. Dagon went after the nature curse to sooth them.

"See what you did Jougo?" Mahito poked fun at the other curse who looked surprisingly affected.

"My, my, Mahito, that set back his prospects considerably." Kenjaku's voice was amused, they were not feeling bad about this whole thing in the slightest.

Yuuji's own mother! He felt ashamed.

"How can you be like this!?" He yelled looking at Kenjaku but when he heard Sukuna snicker he moved his accusatory gaze from Sukuna to Mahito, back to Kenjaku.

"Because it's fun, brat."

"Isn't he your friend?!"

"So?" Mahito shrugged.

"I don't have friends," Sukuna said but corrected himself quickly. "Apart from Uraume because they understand how jokes work."

Indeed, Uraume looked amused by the whole thing.

"These are my associates." Kenjaku went for a casual tone but the stink eye they gave Sukuna and Uraume told Yuuji that his mother wished it was something more. "I have only one friend, your step dad, son."

"Unbelievable, you're all absolutely awful!" Yuuji was shaking, he knew they were all villains but to this extent? He felt Chousou's hand on his shoulder.

"Quit your pathetic whining, brat." Sukuna said. "Why are you even here? You were judged innocent."

"I..." Yuuji came with Chousou. It didn't feel right to him that his brother got community service and he didn't.

Mahito and Sukuna started laughing while Jougo snuck away to try to apologise to Hanami.

"I think it's impressive how much of the fence you've already painted, I'm curious to see you develop." Kenjaku said.

"What is this break?" Kusakabe yelled from behind Yuuji. "This will be added to your sentence! Now clean up this stinking mess!"