operation: get ryomen sukuna a heart
notes first fic *blushes cutely*. fem reader. they swear per usual. the jo twins. sukuna’s emotionally constipated. mostly crack & fluff fic, angst only if you squint very hard they’re all dumb as hell!!
phase zero: the discovery
it starts, as most catastrophes do, with sato gojo.
more specifically, it starts with sato gojo hanging upside down off the edge of the frat house couch, his white hair brushing the floor, scrolling through his phone while nursing a truly concerning hangover.
"hey," he says, squinting at ryomen sukuna who's sitting in the armchair doing absolutely nothing except existing. "why do you look like that?"
sukuna doesn't look up from his phone. "like what?"
"like someone kicked your puppy. except you don't have a puppy. you have a resting bitch face and a personality disorder."
sato flips himself right-side up with the flexibility of someone who does yoga exclusively to pick up girls. "seriously man, you've been weird for weeks. weirder than usual. and your usual is already pretty fucking concerning."
sukuna grunts. it's his go-to response for conversations he doesn't want to have, which is all conversations.
geto walks in from the kitchen, a cup of coffee in one hand and a protein bar in the other. "are we talking about sukuna's emotional constipation again?"
"we're always talking about sukuna's emotional constipation," sato says. "it's the gift that keeps on giving. which speaking of, didn't you growl at a freshman literally yesterday?"
"he was breathing obnoxiously." sukuna defends himself.
"he had asthma." geto points out.
"then he should've been better at hiding it."
toji is the next to wander in, shirtless for reasons no one asked for, with one hand scratching his stomach and the other holding a bag of beef jerky. "what're we talking about? are we finally staging an intervention for sukuna's personality?"
"we've been trying to stage that intervention for three years," geto says.
"fourth time's the charm."
"fuck all of you." sukuna says, but there's no heat in it. that's the second red flag.
sato squints at him. "no, no, something's definitely up. you haven't told me to kill myself in like two days. have you officially hit rock bottom?"
sukuna's eye twitches. it's microscopic. it's barely there. but they all see it. he stands up, fully intending to leave this conversation and never return to it however he only makes it three steps before toji blocks his path. toji is one of the few people on earth who can physically block sukuna's path without immediately regretting it.
"not until you tell us what's wrong." toji tears off a piece of beef jerky with his teeth. "consider it payment for all the shit you've put us through."
"i haven't put you through anything."
"you threw my favorite dumbbell out the window last month."
"you were using it to do curls in my room at 3 a.m. while i was trying to sleep."
"every day is arm day with you.”
geto takes a sip of coffee. "you've been spacing out during meetings. you almost missed the sports event last week. and yesterday, i watched you stare at a wall for forty-five minutes. what's going on?"
"i'm not lying, i'm just not participating in this conversation."
toji snorts. "that's a fancy way of saying you're lying."
"even if something was going on," sukuna says slowly, "which it's not, why would i tell any of you? you'd just make it worse."
"because we're your brothers," sato says, sitting up properly now. "and because whatever it is, we can help."
"you've never helped with anything in your life."
"i helped toji pass statistics."
"you let him copy your homework."
sukuna looks at geto, who is the closest thing to a reasonable person in this house. geto shrugs. "he's not wrong. we're not going to drop this. you know how sato gets when he's curious about something."
"like a dog with a bone," toji agrees.
"like a very annoying, very persistent, very white-haired dog," geto amends, "just tell us. we'll find out anyway. sato has no boundaries and i have no morals."
"i have both," toji adds. "that's why i'm the muscle."
"you're the muscle because you're functionally illiterate."
"your gym schedule doesn't count."
sukuna weighs his options. on one hand, he could continue to deny everything and suffer through their increasingly invasive questions. on the other hand, he could give them something—just enough to get them off his back.
he makes the wrong choice, obviously.
the room goes dead silent.
sato's eyes refocus. geto's coffee cup freezes halfway to his lips. toji stops scratching himself, which is probably the most shocking reaction of all.
"no, a fucking lamp. yes, a person. you moron."
"a person you have feelings for?" geto inquires.
sukuna's eye twitches. "i wouldn't call them feelings."
"what would you call them?"
"...a persistent interest."
"your ears are red, dude." sato is grinning now, the kind of shit eating grin that has taken him out of trouble more times than he can count. "okay, okay, wait. who is it? do we know them? what's their name? are they hot? of course they're hot, you wouldn't have a 'persistent interest' in someone who wasn't hot."
"you need to mind your own fucking business." sukuna growls.
sato clicks his tongue in response, "we're your best friends. your business is our business. that's how friendship works."
"i don't have friends. i have tolerated acquaintances."
geto sets down his coffee. "sukuna. realistically, how long do you think you can keep this from us?"
"wrong answer. sato will find out. you know he will. he once tracked down the guy who stole his parking spot using only a partial license plate and sheer spite."
"that was impressive." sato says proudly.
"it was terrifying," geto corrects. "my point is, wouldn't you rather have us on your side? helping? instead of investigating behind your back?"
sukuna considers this. he hates that geto has a point. he hates that geto usually has a point. it's one of his most annoying qualities.
but stubbornness was one of ryomen sukuna's annoying qualities.
it takes them another forty-five minutes of relentless badgering, three separate escape attempts, and one genuinely impressive bout of wrestling that ends with sukuna in a headlock and toji nursing what might be a fractured rib, but eventually—eventually—sukuna cracks.
"...fine." the pink haired man huffs.
"yes!" sato punches the air. "operation: get sukuna laid is a go!"
"we're not calling it that."
"operation: sukuna's persistent interest?"
"operation: help the emotionally constipated loser get a date?"
sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose. "you gotta die."
sato salutes. "sir, yes, sir. now—who's the lucky victim?"
"lucky person. lucky individual. lucky soul who has captured your persistent interest."
"her name," sukuna says, and the word comes out rougher than he intended, "is y/n."
phase one: reconnaissance (aka stalking, but sato insists it's not stalking if you're doing it with good intentions)
"okay," sato says, pulling out a whiteboard from god knows where. they're in the frat house basement, which has been converted into what sato is calling "mission control." there's a folding table. there are snacks. there are energy drinks stacked in a pyramid. someone has drawn a very crude heart on the whiteboard with sukuna's name in one half and a question mark in the other.
"this is already too much." sukuna murmurs.
"shut up, it's perfect." sato uncaps a marker with his teeth. "phase one is reconnaissance. we need information. what does y/n like? where does she hang out? who are her friends? what's her schedule?"
"how are we supposed to figure that out?" toji asks, already three beers in.
"we use our resources." sato points at sukuna. "you're in a class with her, right?"
"psychology. tuesdays and thursdays."
"great. what else do you know?"
sukuna thinks about it. he knows you sit three rows from the front, slightly to the left. you chew on your pen caps when you're concentrating. you have this habit of tucking your hair behind your ear when you're about to answer a question. you laughed at the professor's terrible freudian joke once and sukuna almost passed out.
"not much." he says instead.
"useless," sato declares. "we need boots on the ground. we need intel. we need—"
"my brother?!" sato looks offended. "why would we need my nerd brother? he's not even in the frat. he's probably reorganizing his periodic table right now."
"exactly," geto nods. "he's not in the frat, which means he has access to normal people. he's in a million study groups. he probably knows someone who knows y/n. plus, he's observant. remember when he figured out toji was dating that girl just by the way he was texting?"
"that was creepy." toji comments, shivering at the memory.
sato is already pulling out his phone. "fine. i'll summon the nerd."
toru arrives twenty three minutes later, laptop bag slung over one shoulder and the expression of a man who has been summoned against his will too many times to count. his glasses are slightly crooked and there's a pen tucked behind his ear.
"i was in the middle of a quantum mechanics problem set," he says by way of greeting. "this better be important."
“this is important. sukuna has a crush.” sato announces.
toru turns around and starts walking toward the door.
"wait!" sato lunges for him, catching the back of his shirt. "you promised you'd help!"
"i promised i'd come. i didn't promise i'd help. there's a difference. i'm very precise with my language."
"i prefer 'academically rigorous.'"
geto, ever the diplomat, steps between them. "toru, we need you. you're the most emotionally functional person in this room."
"that's a terrifyingly low bar."
"exactly. which is why we need you."
toru sighs, the sound of a man who has been through this particular war before and knows exactly how it ends. "fine. but i want it on record that i'm doing this under duress."
"noted." sato drags him to a chair and shoves him down. "okay. situation report. sukuna has the hots for a girl named y/n. he's been pining for weeks. he's incapable of expressing feelings without sounding like he's threatening someone. we need a plan."
"we need more than a plan," toru says. "we need a miracle."
"… that wasn't optimism." toru mumbles, fixing his crooked glasses, "anyway, what exactly do you need from me?"
"information," geto says, stepping in before sato can derail the conversation further. "we need to know everything about y/n. schedule, habits, interests. you have study groups with half the campus—do you know her?"
he nods. "yeah. she's in my physics study group. well, she's not in physics. she audits it. says it helps her think about things differently."
"um..." toru pulls out his laptop, clearly more comfortable with data than conversation. "she goes to the campus coffee shop every tuesday and thursday at 2:15. vanilla latte with cinnamon on top. she studies at the library on mondays and wednesdays, usually the second floor, near the philosophy section. she's friends with shoko and utahime. they have a standing brunch thing on saturdays at that place off campus, the one with the waffles."
"what?" toru looks up. "i'm observant."
"you're terrifying." toji says.
"you literally asked me to do this."
"we didn't think you'd have a full dossier!" sato shouts.
"it's not a dossier, it's just basic pattern recognition. she's a creature of habit. it's not that hard to notice if you're paying attention."
sukuna, who has been silently listening this whole time, feels something twist in his chest. vanilla latte with cinnamon. library on mondays. friends with shoko and utahime. these are things he should have known. things he could have known, if he'd ever worked up the courage to actually talk to you instead of just staring at the back of your head in psychology.
"okay," sato says, writing furiously on the whiteboard. "this is good. this is really good. we've got locations, we've got times, we've got her order. phase two: first contact."
phase two: the coffee shop
phase two begins with t-shirts.
"absolutely not." sukuna says when sato presents them.
"absolutely yes." sato is already pulling his on. it's a bright, eye searingly pink with text that says "OPERATION: GET RYO BABY LAID" in comic sans. "we all have one. it's for morale."
"why is it in comic sans?"
"because toru said it's the most psychologically disarming font."
"i said no such thing," toru protests. "i said comic sans triggers a specific neurological response that—okay, i basically said that."
toji is already wearing his. the shirt is stretched dangerously across his chest. "it's tight."
"it's supposed to be tight. it emphasizes our commitment."
"our commitment to what?" geto asks, pulling his own shirt on with considerably more dignity. "looking like idiots?"
sukuna will "accidentally" show up at the coffee shop at 2:15 on tuesday. he'll happen to be in line at the same time as you. he'll comment on your order, you'll bond over your shared love of caffeine, and then he'll casually ask if you want to sit together. romance will ensue.
"it's foolproof.” sato says.
"you said that about the time you tried to build a beer pong table out of popsicle sticks.” toji points out.
"that was a structural engineering issue. this is romance. completely different."
they've gathered in sukuna's room, which is unnervingly clean compared to the rest of the house. sato is sprawled on the bed. geto is leaning against the wall. toji is on the floor. toru is sitting in the desk chair.
"you need to wear something approachable," geto says, eyeing sukuna's usual all-black ensemble. "less 'i might murder you' and more 'i might buy you dinner.'"
"i don't own anything like that."
"yes you do. that grey henley. the one that's slightly too tight in the arms."
"that's not intentional."
"we know. that's what makes it work."
sukuna grumbles but changes into the henley. when he comes out of the bathroom, toji wolf-whistles.
"looking good, princess."
"you don’t even call your baby momma princess.”
“see, this is a problem," sato says, sitting up. "your face is a problem, kuna. you always look like you're about to commit a crime. you need to relax. smile more."
"then practice, you absolutely imbecile. give us a smile."
sukuna bares his teeth in what is technically a smile but looks more like a threat display.
“stop that.” the twins beg quietly.
"you look like you're going to eat her.” geto agrees.
"not in a sexy way.” toji adds.
sukuna drops the expression. "this is pointless."
"no, no, we can work with this." sato hops off the bed and grabs sukuna's face with both hands. "just… think of something nice! something that makes you happy. something that doesn't make you want to commit violence."
sukuna thinks about you. the way you laughed at that stupid joke in psychology. the way you held the door for someone even though they were far away. the way you looked at him once—really looked at him—and didn't seem scared.
his expression shifts. just slightly. the hard lines around his mouth soften.
"that," geto says quietly. "whatever you just thought of, do that."
"i'm not telling you what i thought of."
"obviously. just... think it when you see her."
the coffee shop is busy when sukuna walks in at 2:10.
sato, geto, and toji are stationed at various points around the café. sato is behind a potted plant (again, for reasons no one understands). geto is pretending to read a newspaper like he's in a spy movie, but the newspaper is upside down. toji is just sitting at a table, not even hiding, because toji has never hidden from anything in his life. toru is outside in the car, serving as "tech support," which mostly means he's on his laptop monitoring the campus wi-fi for no reason.
"target acquired," sato whispers into his earpiece. "she's at the counter."
"don't call her a target.” geto hisses back.
sukuna takes a breath. you're standing at the counter, looking up at the menu even though you probably already know what you're getting. you're wearing a sweater that looks incredibly soft, and you're humming something under your breath.
this is it. this is the moment.
he walks up to the counter just as you're about to order. he opens his mouth. he's going to say something smooth. something charming. something like—
"vanilla latte with cinnamon."
you turn, startled. "what?"
"that's what you're going to order." sukuna's brain is screaming at him to stop talking. he doesn't stop. "vanilla latte. with cinnamon. because you always get that. on tuesdays. and thursdays."
there's a beat of silence. you're looking at him with an expression he can't quite read.
"psychology. we're in psychology together. i sit in the back."
"oh!" recognition flickers in your eyes. "you're the guy who glares at everyone."
"i don't glare at everyone. just—" just people who look at you too long, he doesn't say. "just people who are annoying."
"right." you're smiling now, a little uncertainly. "so... how do you know my coffee order?"
sukuna's mind goes blank. he can hear sato's frantic whispering in his earpiece: "say you noticed! say you're observant! say something normal!"
"you. your order. your schedule." stop talking stop talking stop talking. "you're a creature of habit."
your eyebrows go up. "that's... slightly creepy."
"it's not creepy. it's pattern recognition."
"are you a robot? or just mad in the head?”
"no. unfortunately. to the first one.”
you're still looking at him, but your smile has shifted from uncertain to something closer to amused. "okay, mystery guy from psychology who knows my schedule. what's your name?"
"ryomen," you repeat, and he feels his name in your mouth like a physical thing. "that's a lot of name."
"you can just call me ryo."
"okay, ryo." you turn back to the counter and order your vanilla latte with cinnamon. then you turn back to him. "are you going to order something? or are you just here to narrate my life?"
sukuna internally panics, “i go. bye.”
sukuna stands at the counter like a statue, not moving.
you raise a brow, grabbing your drink when it's ready and taking a sip. "well, ryo who knows my schedule and narrates my life, maybe i'll see you in psychology. try not to glare at anyone."
and then you're gone, walking out of the coffee shop with a little wave over your shoulder.
"dude," sato says, emerging from behind the plant with leaves in his hair. "what the fuck was that?”
"you told her she's a creature of habit! you sounded like a serial killer!"
geto appears, newspaper tucked under his arm. "on the bright side, she didn’t ignore you. that's something."
"she ran away because he's ridiculous," toji says, joining them. "like, genuinely concerning levels of ridiculous."
sukuna is still staring at the door you walked out of. "she said she might see me in psychology."
"that's not a date invitation.” sato sighs.
"that's barely a positive interaction."
"but she did say your nickname." geto nudges him gently.
sukuna looks at him. "what?"
"your nickname. she said it. 'okay, ryo.' and smiled at you and everything. that's not nothing."
it's not nothing. sukuna holds onto that as they leave the coffee shop, toru asking approximately four hundred questions about what happened and sato reenacting the whole thing with dramatic embellishments.
“we need a new approach," sato announces at the next mission control meeting. "the coffee shop was a disaster."
"it wasn't a disaster," geto says. "it was... a learning experience."
"he told her she's a creature of habit!" sato whines, dragging his hands down his face.
"she laughed because she thought he was joking! she doesn't know he's actually like that!"
sukuna, who has been silent for most of this meeting, finally speaks up. "i'm right here."
"we know," sato says. "we're discussing your failings."
the whiteboard has been updated. there are now several bullet points under phase two, including "DON'T mention her schedule," "DON'T call her a creature of anything," and "DON'T say unfortunately when asked if you're a robot."
"phase three," geto says, drawing a new section on the board. "the library. mondays, second floor, philosophy section. she studies there from 3 to 6."
"how do we know that?" sukuna asks.
toru, who has once again been summoned, looks up from his laptop. "i just pay attention to things. it's not that hard."
"most people don't memorize strangers' study schedules."
"most people aren't asked to help their brother's emotionally stunted friend get a date."
sato claps, “the plan for phase two is simple. sukuna will "coincidentally" be in the same section at the same time. he'll strike up a conversation. he'll be charming and normal and not at all threatening.”
"you have a script," geto says, handing him an index card. "we wrote you a script."
sukuna stares at the index card. "i'm not using a script."
"you're using a script. read it."
he looks down. the card reads:
hi, is this seat taken? (wait for response) i’m sorry about the coffee shop incident. (wait for response) cool. what are you studying? (listen to answer. this is important. actually listen.) that sounds interesting. (optional: ask follow-up question.) i'll let you get back to it. nice meeting you.
"this is the most clinical thing i've ever read." sukuna says.
"it says 'optional' in parentheses."
"we accounted for variables."
an hour later, they're parked outside the library in sato's car, which is a monstrosity that he calls "the gojo-mobile" and everyone else calls "that piece of shit that's going to get us killed." toru is in the back seat, looking like he'd rather be literally anywhere else. toji is in the passenger seat, eating beef jerky. geto is giving sukuna a pep talk that sukuna is actively ignoring.
"remember," geto says, "eye contact. but not too much eye contact. you want to seem interested, not predatory."
"i know how to make eye contact."
"you once stared down a professor until he left the room."
"he was being condescending."
"he was asking you to turn in your homework."
sato twists around in the driver's seat. "okay, comms check." he holds up a tiny earpiece. "you'll be wearing this again. we'll be in the parking lot, feeding you lines if you freeze."
"i'm not wearing an earpiece like some kind of—"
"like some kind of guy who freezes up when a pretty girl looks at him?" toji offers.
sukuna snatches the earpiece, “where did you even get this from?”
“temu.” toji and sato reply in unison.
it takes another ten minutes to get him out of the car. toru has to threaten to tell y/n about the time sukuna got stuck in a bathroom window (long story, very embarrassing, sukuna would rather die than have it get out), and even then, it's a near thing.
the library is quiet, as libraries tend to be. sukuna finds you at your usual table near the philosophy section, surrounded by textbooks and highlighters and those little sticky note tabs in approximately twelve different colors.
toru is with him, because apparently sukuna needs a "handler" now. toru is pretending to look for a book on astrophysics, which is convenient because that section happens to be one aisle over from your table.
"just walk past her," toru whispers. "drop a book. she'll look up. you say 'sorry, didn't mean to disturb you.' she says it's fine. you follow the script. conversation flows naturally."
"do you have a better idea?"
sukuna does not have a better idea. he grabs a random book off a shelf—it's something about existential philosophy—and starts walking toward your table.
he's three steps away when the earpiece crackles again.
"wait," geto says, his voice tense. "i'm looking at the library security cameras—"
"why do you have access to the library security cameras?"
"that's not important right now. what's important is that there's someone else heading toward her section. tall guy. looks like he knows her."
sukuna freezes. sure enough, a guy is approaching your table. he's tall, decent-looking in a boring way, and he's holding two coffees. he sets one down in front of you, and your face lights up.
"who the fuck is that?" sukuna growls.
"unknown," toru reports. "he's not in any of her usual patterns."
"talking to her. smiling. she's smiling back."
"he's pulling up a chair. he's sitting down. he's—oh."
"he just touched her arm."
something in sukuna's brain short-circuits. before he knows what he's doing, he's walking toward your table, book gripped tight as hell.
step one: walk past her. he does this successfully. you don't look up.
step two: drop the book. he does this. the book hits the floor with a loud thwack! that echoes through the silent library like a gunshot.
you look up. so does everyone else in a fifteen-foot radius. the librarian glares.
step three: say something smooth.
you stare at him. he stares at you. the textbook lies forgotten on the floor between them.
"are you... okay?" you ask.
"yes. no. book fell. gravity." he gestures vaguely downward. "physics. are you studying?”
"...yes? that's typically what people do in libraries."
the mystery guy is looking at him with a mixture of confusion and wariness. "uh, hey man. can we help you with something?"
sukuna turns his gaze to the guy. full force. the expression he usually reserves for people who try to cheat off his exams or take his parking spot. "who are you?"
"i'm—" the guy swallows. "i'm kenji. i'm in her study group."
"i've never seen you before." sukuna’s eyes squint.
"i transferred in last week?"
sukuna continues staring. kenji continues shrinking. you're watching this exchange with an expression that's somewhere between confused and amused.
"ryomen," you say, and he looks back at you. "did you need something?"
you, he thinks. i need you to stop smiling at random guys. i need to know why your laugh makes my chest feel too tight. i need to understand why i can't stop thinking about you even though we've had exactly one and a half conversations.
"no," he says. "i was just... passing through."
"in the philosophy section."
"you're a psychology major."
you're definitely amused now. the corners of your mouth are twitching. "okay, ryomen. well, kenji and i were just about to go over some notes, so unless you want to join us...?"
it's a challenge. he can see it in your eyes. you're daring him to say yes.
sukuna should say no. he should walk away, regroup, try again another day. that's what a normal person would do.
sukuna has never been a normal person.
"sure.” he says, and pulls up a chair.
kenji looks like he wants to die. you look delighted.
"great," you say, pushing a textbook toward him. "you can help us with chapter seven. it's about cognitive biases. very relevant."
sukuna doesn't know if you're implying something. he's too busy trying to figure out how to sit in a chair without looking like he's about to flip the table.
the next hour is torture. not because of you—you're great, you're amazing, you explain concepts in a way that actually makes sense—but because kenji keeps finding excuses to lean closer to you, and every time he does, sukuna's grip on his pencil tightens.
"ryo," you say at one point, "you're going to snap that pencil in half."
"it's a mechanical pencil. those are metal."
you laugh, and sukuna forgets about kenji entirely. he forgets about the earpiece, about sato's terrible advice, about the fact that he's supposed to be playing it cool. he forgets everything except the way your eyes crinkle when you smile.
"you're funny.” you compliment.
"that's what makes it funny."
from the earpiece, barely audible, sato whispers: "holy shit, is he actually being charming?"
sukuna reaches up and turns the earpiece off.
approximately around 6, as toru had said, you begin to pack your bag after kenji leaves. but this means you’ll leave. and sukuna doesn’t want you to leave. he wants you to stay. so his brain scrambles for something to say.
"i don't eat people.” he announces.
"you—“ sukuna's brain is a white static of panic. "you looked nervous. at the coffee shop. you don't need to be. nervous. i'm not going to—i'm not a—" he gestures vaguely. "people-eating guy."
in his ear, he hears toji snort.
"shut up," sato hisses. "let him cook."
you stares at him for a long moment. then, slowly, your mouth quirks up at the corner. "that's... good to know? i wasn't really worried about being eaten, but thanks for the clarification."
"i should let you go." he says finally.
"i'll... see you around."
"yeah. see you around, ryo."
"okay," sato says, pacing in front of the whiteboard. "we've done the coffee shop, which made sukuna seem like a stalker. we've done the library, which almost led to a murder. now we're doing the frat party."
"the frat party?" sukuna repeats.
"our turf. home field advantage. she's coming because utahime is friends with shoko and shoko is friends with myself and geto, so geto invited shoko who invited utahime who invited y/n."
sukuna looks at geto. "you did that?"
geto shrugs. "i have my uses."
the party is already in full swing when you arrive. the bass is loud enough to rattle the windows. someone has already started a beer pong tournament in the backyard. toji is inexplicably shirtless, on top of a table swinging his shirt around like a cowboy with a lasso.
sukuna is in the corner, nursing a drink and trying to look approachable. sato said "less murder, more mystery" which apparently meant wearing a black shirt with the top button undone. sukuna feels ridiculous.
you're with shoko and utahime, laughing at something shoko said. you're wearing a dress—nothing fancy, just a simple black dress that hugs your body—and sukuna forgets how to breathe.
"she's here," sato hisses in his ear. "go talk to her. be smooth. be cool. don't threaten anyone."
"you threatened kenji in the library. with your eyes."
"that's not a real thing."
sukuna downs the rest of his drink and pushes off the wall. he makes his way through the crowd, people parting for him automatically. he finds you near the drinks table, examining the jungle juice with understandable suspicion.
"i wouldn't drink that.” he says.
you look up, and your face breaks into a smile. "ryo! you're here."
"oh, yeah! shoko did tell me," you look around like you're seeing the place for the first time. "it explains... a lot, actually."
"nothing bad. just—" you gesture vaguely at him. "the whole intimidating presence thing. it makes more sense now."
"you literally scared kenji so badly he dropped the class."
"he dropped the class?" sukuna tries not to sound too pleased about this. "that seems like an overreaction."
"he said, and i quote, 'that guy with the pink hair looked at me like he was calculating the best way to dispose of my body.'"
"...i was just looking at him."
"you have a very intense look."
sukuna doesn't know what to say to that. fortunately, you don't seem bothered by it. you're still smiling, still standing close enough that he can smell your perfume—something light, sweet.
"so," you say, "are you going to get me a real drink? or just stand there warning me about jungle juice?"
he makes you a vodka cranberry—simple, hard to mess up. you take a sip and make an appreciative sound.
there's a moment of silence. sukuna's brain is screaming at him to say something, anything, but all he can think about is how the light catches your eyes and how you're standing close enough to touch.
"do you want to—" he starts.
you both turn. a girl is approaching—someone sukuna vaguely recognizes from a party last semester. she's smiling in a way that makes his stomach drop.
"it's been a while," she says, stepping into his space. "i've been looking for you."
"i'm kind of in the middle of—"
"remember that night after finals? you were so drunk. you kept trying to fight the fridge." she cuts him off.
you raise an eyebrow. "the fridge?"
"it was looking at me funny.” sukuna mutters.
"it was hilarious," the girl continues, putting her hand on his arm. "we should do that again sometime. just us. like before."
sukuna sees the exact moment your expression changes. the smile doesn't disappear, but it becomes something more guarded. more distant.
"i should probably find shoko," you say, setting down your drink. "thanks for the... drink. and the warning about the jungle juice."
but you're already gone, disappearing into the crowd.
sukuna turns to the girl, who's still touching his arm. "what the fuck was that?"
"what? i was just saying hi.”
"we hooked up one time. a year ago. i don't even remember your name."
"i don't care." he pulls his arm away. "don't do that again."
he walks away before she can respond. he finds the others in the kitchen, huddled around the beer pong table like they're strategizing for war.
"we saw," sato says before sukuna can speak. "we saw. it was painful."
"she thinks i'm just some guy who hooks up with random girls at parties."
"i mean... you are.” toji says.
"not anymore. not—" sukuna runs a hand through his hair. "that's not who i am. it's not who i've ever been. people just assume because i'm in a frat and i'm..." he gestures at himself.
"terrifying?" geto offers.
"emotionally unavailable?" toru supplies.
"all of the above," sukuna says through gritted teeth. "but i don't—i've never just slept around. i'm picky. i've always been picky. the only reason anyone thinks otherwise is because no one actually knows me."
"dude," sato says quietly. "that's the most you've ever said about yourself. ever."
"i'm not making it weird, i'm just—" sato looks at the others. "did you guys know that?"
"i suspected.” geto says.
"i didn't care enough to suspect.” toji says.
"i didn't know him until three weeks ago.” toru adds.
sukuna leans against the counter, suddenly exhausted. "it doesn't matter. she's not going to believe me. why would she? all she's seen is the coffee shop disaster and the library disaster and now this."
"so show her something different.” geto says.
"i don't know. that's your job to figure out."
phase five: the plan that actually works (sort of)
it's toru who comes up with the idea, which surprises everyone.
"you need to be honest with her," he says. they're back in mission control, but the mood is different now. less frantic energy, more quiet determination. "not smooth. not charming. just honest."
"that's your big plan?" sato says. "honesty?"
"it worked for me. sort of."
"you've never had a girlfriend."
"not the point. the point is that y/n has seen sukuna fail at being smooth multiple times. she knows he's bad at it. so maybe instead of trying to be someone he's not, he should just... be himself."
"myself is the problem.” sukuna grumbles.
"no, yourself is what she's interested in. why do you think she keeps talking to you? you've been weird and intense and borderline creepy and she's still smiling at you. she likes you. she just doesn't know if you're serious."
sukuna considers this. it's terrifying, but it also makes sense. you've had every opportunity to shut him down. you could have ignored him after the coffee shop. you could have asked him to leave in the library. you could have walked away at the party and never looked back.
"okay," he says. "honesty. i can do that."
"can you?" toji asks skeptically.
"probably not. but i'm going to try."
he finds you two days later, sitting on a bench near the psychology building. you're alone, scrolling through your phone, and you look up when his shadow falls over you.
"sukuna," you say. your voice is neutral, careful. "what's up?"
he sits. for a long moment, neither of you speaks. sukuna is acutely aware of his own heartbeat, of the way his palms are sweating, of the fact that this is the most terrifying thing he's ever done and he's done a lot of terrifying things.
"i'm bad at this.” he says finally.
"talking. feelings. people." he stares straight ahead, not looking at you. "i've never done this before. the whole... liking someone thing. not for real."
you're quiet. he can feel you watching him.
"at the party," he continues, "that girl. we hooked up once. a year ago. i didn't even remember her name. she's not… that's not who i am. i don't sleep around. i never have. people assume i do because of how i look, or because i'm in a frat, or because i'm... me. but i'm picky. i've always been picky. and i've been picky about you for weeks."
"since the second week of psychology. you answered a question about cognitive dissonance and you got it wrong, but you argued with the professor about it and you made him admit that your interpretation was valid. i thought you were insane. i also thought you were the most interesting person i'd ever seen."
you make a sound that might be a laugh. "i remember that. i was so mad."
he finally looks at you. you're smiling—not the guarded smile from the party, but something real. something warm.
"the coffee shop," you say. "the library. all of that was...?"
"my friends trying to help me get your attention. they've been running an operation. they have a whiteboard. they made shirts."
"they say 'operation: get ryo baby laid.' in comic sans."
you burst out laughing. it's the same laugh from before, surprised and genuine, and sukuna feels it like sunlight.
"and you let them do all this?"
"i didn't let them. they just... did it. they're like a natural disaster.”
you're still laughing, and sukuna realizes he's smiling too. not the terrifying smile from his room, but something real. something that feels almost unfamiliar on his face.
"so," you say, when you've caught your breath. "you like me."
"and you've been trying to tell me for weeks."
"and you failed repeatedly because you're emotionally constipated."
you lean back on the bench, looking at him with an expression he can't quite read. "you know, most guys would just ask a girl out. like a normal person."
"yes," you agree. "and that explains a lot."
there's a pause. then you say: "so ask me."
"ask me out. right now. no schemes, no hidden earpieces, no potted plants."
sukuna stares at you. "you knew about the earpiece?"
"i saw sato behind the plant at the coffee shop. he's not very good at hiding. also, your hair doesn’t exactly cover your ears. the earpiece had a blue outline every time someone spoke.”
"he’s dumb. he got it from temu," sukuna shakes his head. "never mind. that's not important." he takes a breath. "y/n. do you want to go out with me? for real. just us. no disaster."
you pretend to think about it. "what would we do?"
"dinner. somewhere nice. not the cafeteria.”
"and... i don't know. whatever you want. i'm not good at planning things. i'm not good at any of this." he meets your eyes. "but i want to try. for you."
your expression softens. "okay."
"okay. i'll go out with you." you stand up, grabbing your bag. "but you have to promise me something."
"no more stalking my schedule. if you want to know something about me, just ask."
you smile, and sukuna feels something crack open in his chest—warm and terrifying and wonderful.
"pick me up at seven on friday," you say. "okay?"
you walk away before he can respond, leaving him sitting on the bench and nervously twiddling his thumbs.
from somewhere behind him, he hears a muffled cheer. he turns to see sato, geto, toji, and toru emerging from behind a bush.
"were you hiding there the whole time?"
"obviously," sato says, grinning. "we weren't going to miss the grand finale."
sukuna stares at the spot where you disappeared around the corner. "she said yes."
"we know." his brothers (including toru, at this stage) reply.
"are you broken?" toji waves a hand in front of his face. "do we need to reboot you?"
sukuna stands up. he feels strange—light, almost. like something heavy has been lifted off his shoulders.
"friday," he says. "i need to plan something for friday."
"we'll help!” sato offers.
"absolutely not. you've helped enough."
"no. i'm doing this on my own." he pauses.
sato throws an arm around his shoulders. sukuna lets him. just this once.
"our little boy's all grown up," sato says, wiping away a fake tear. "getting ready for his first real date."
"emotionally, you're a fetus."
sukuna shoves him off. but he's smiling.
epilogue: mission complete
friday arrives faster than sukuna expected.
he's ready an hour early, standing in front of his mirror in the black button up and a pair of dark jeans. his hair is doing the thing it always does, which is spiky and uncooperative, but he's made peace with it.
he heads downstairs, where the rest of the group is waiting. sato has somehow acquired a camera—a real one, with a flash and everything.
"prom pictures!" he announces.
sukuna lets them take a picture anyway—him standing stiffly by the door, looking vaguely murderous while sato, geto, toji, and toru crowd around him with various expressions of pride and amusement.
"don't fuck this up.” toji says, slapping him on the back hard enough to make him stumble.
"thanks for the vote of confidence."
"you don't need confidence. you need to not be yourself."
geto, who is the only one acting like a normal person, hands him a small bouquet of flowers. "for her."
sukuna takes the flowers. they're nice. lilies tied with a ribbon. "thanks."
"don't mention it. literally. don't mention that we helped. this is your night."
"my night.” sukuna repeats.
"your night. now go. you're going to be late."
you're waiting outside your building when he arrives in his car and sukuna's brain temporarily stops working.
you're wearing a dress and you've done something different with your hair. you look like you put in effort. you look like you're excited about this.
"hey." he holds out the flowers. "these are for you."
"they're beautiful." you take them, burying your nose in the petals. "did you pick these out yourself?"
"honest. i like it." you tuck the flowers carefully into your bag. "so, where are we going?"
"an italian place. it's quiet. good food." he pauses. "i made a reservation. i don't know if that's impressive or just... normal."
"it's normal, but impressive in your case."
the restaurant is nice—candles on the tables, soft music playing, the kind of place sukuna would normally never set foot in. but the hostess smiles when she sees you both, and your hand is still on his arm, and he thinks maybe this is what he's been missing.
dinner is... good. surprisingly good. sukuna manages to have an entire conversation without mentioning your schedule or calling you a creature of anything. you talk about psychology and music and the terrible coffee at the campus café. you laugh at his jokes, even the ones that aren't funny.
he took you for dessert at an ice cream parlor where you learnt his favorite flavor is “bubblegum bunny” and after paying for them, you both walked down the street with your arm interlocked with his.
"you said you're picky. you said you don't do this." you suddenly say, gesturing between them. "so why me? what made you pick me?"
sukuna is quiet for a moment. this is the part he's bad at—the feelings, the vulnerability, the saying things out loud instead of locking them away.
but he promised he'd try.
"you argued with the professor," he says. "you were wrong, but you didn't back down. you made him listen to you. most people would have just accepted the grade and moved on. you didn't."
"that's it? i argued with a professor?" you lick your ice cream.
"it's not just that. it's..." he struggles for words. "you're not scared of things. you're not scared of me, even when i'm being weird and intense and borderline creepy. you just... take it. and you smile. and you make me want to be less weird and intense."
you're looking at him with an expression he can't read. "sukuna..."
"i know it's not romantic. i know i'm supposed to say something about your eyes or your laugh or whatever. and those things are... you're..." he exhales, frustrated. "you're beautiful. obviously. but that's not why. it's because you're the first person who's made me want to be better. and that's terrifying. and i don't know how to say that without sounding like an idiot."
there's a long pause. he doesn’t even register the fact that his own ice cream has begun melting down his hand.
"you don't sound like an idiot," you say quietly. "you sound like someone who's trying. that's more than most people do."
"i know." you squeeze his arm. "i can tell."
you suddenly lean into him and sukuna smiles, allowing his lips to gently brush the top of your head.
"so," you say, your voice lighter now. "does this mean i get to see the whiteboard?"
"the shirts? can i at least see the shirts?"
"i burned them. no i didn’t. i tried. sato stopped me. he said they were 'historical artifacts.'"
you laugh, and he kisses you slowly, like he’s cherishing a gem that can’t be found anywhere else.
he's got you and his dumb brothers and that's more than enough for ryomen “i don’t do feelings” sukuna.
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