WE WERE SOMETHING, DON'T YOU THINK?
synopsis. your family said he'd ruin your future, that he was a bad influence, so they separated you from him 'for your own good.' years later, you see him again at college, and he's ... different in ways you don't know how to name.
pairing. r. sukuna x f!reader
content. light angst (i think), fluff, SOFT SUKUNA, sukuna's a bit mean at first tho, reader's family is shit, sukuna has a healthy family (wow), mutual pining, childhood best friends, college au, family pressure ( ´âłď˝), eventual romance. wc 2.7k (shorter than i thought)
⯠this is my first time writing a long oneshot pls dont jump me. i dont really like how i executed it but oohh welll it's already done ( ´â`) enjoy!! art by 679sora!
The first time you meet Sukuna, he is sitting alone at the playground, knees pulled up to his chest as he plucks at the grass like he has nothing better to do.
You watch him from the swings, letting yourself drift back and forth. The chain creaks soflty in a slow rhythm.
Everything feels quieter today.
Sukuna is still plucking at the grass, piling them on top of his shoes. He doesn't look bored, if anything, he's deeply focused on what he's doing.
Curious, you hop off the swings and start walking toward him.
Up close, you spot bruises on his face and arms. He looks like he's been fighting a lot. He's actually bigger than he seemed from far away, shoulders tight like a coiled spring.
He notices your shadow before he even looks up.
His hands still mid-pluck. Slowly, his eyes lift to your face.
They're red and sharp. "What?" he asks flatly, voice rough for a kid.
You shift your weight, scuffing your shoe against the dirt. "Nothing."
"You looked lonely," the words escape before you can even decide if they're a good idea.
He lifts one eyebrow. "I'm not," he mutters. "Mind your own business."
You snort. "You're sitting in the middle of the playground. That kind of makes it everyone's business."
His head snaps up, eyes narrowing. "Then go away."
Instead of talking back, you plop down across him, close enough to mess up his gathered pile of grass.
"It's our spot now." you declare, satisfied with the incredulous look on Sukuna's face.
He just stares, considering getting up and leave. But then he sighs. "You're annoying," he says.
You grin. "Thanks, i get that a lot."
He frowns, that was not the reaction he expected. But he just shrugs and goes back to plucking at the grass.
"What's your name?" you ask suddenly.
He doesn't answer right away. You start to think he's going to ignore you completely because he hasn't answered for a whole minute.
"For what?" he looks at you skeptically.
You blink. "So i know what to call you, duh."
He snorts softly, like that's a stupid reason. But he tells you anyway. "Sukuna," he mutters.
"Sukuna," you repeat it under your breath, testing the sound of it. Then you tell him your name.
He nods, repeating your name quietly. "That's a good name," he says.
After that, neither of you speaks again.
He stops plucking at the grass and just stares at the small pile for a while. Then he lifts his head, staring at you, who are leaning back on your hands, eyes looking up the sky.
Finally, he speaks up. "You're here alone?"
You shake your head, still looking up the sky. "No, i'm with my mom."
"Not cool," you sigh. "She's always mad about something."
"Huh," he mutters. "Why?"
You just shrug, as if it's normal. "Dunno. It's fine though, i'm used to it."
He frowns, crossing his arms. "Used to it? No one should be used to that."
You can't help a small laugh. "You sound mad."
"'m not," he admits quietly. "Its just weird."
"Don't think much about it, 'kuna. you'll get gray hairs!"
He lifts an eyebrow at the nickname, but he doesn't say anything about it. Just as he opens his mouth, someone yells your name.
You turn your head abruptly, narrowing your eyes as you see your mom striding toward you. Her jaw set so tight you're afraid it might snap.
"There you are!" She shouts.
Your mom's hands clamped onto your shoulders like a vice. She looks at Sukuna with a judgemental squint.
"I told you not to wander off," she hisses, her fingers locking around your upper arm. "And not to play with someone who doesn't know basic mannersâlook at you, you got your clothes dirty!"
She doesn't wait for you to answer. She pulls you upward, forcing you to stand. You look back at Sukuna as your mom drags you away. He looks genuinely baffled, still crouching with his pile of grass on his shoes.
The distance grows quickly, your mom's shadow looming over you. You glance back one more time and yell out. "I'll see you tomorrow, 'kuna!"
Sukuna blinks in surprise, staring at you for a moment. Then he nods slowly, like it's a promise.
You stumble forward, the force of your mom's grip makes you wince, but Sukuna's nod lingers in your mind. You're gonna make sure you'll see him tomorrow.
Sukuna's back at home, the memory of you still lingers in his head. He couldn't forget the way you talked, how curious you were about him, and the way your eyes were full of resentment when your mom came.
That question snaps him out of his trance. He looks up from his plate, meeting his dad's eyes.
"Uh, yeah," he mutters. "It's just that i met a girl i met at the playground today."
His mom jumps in, excitement in her voice. "Really? What is she like? Is she nice?"
Sukuna stays quiet for a beat, nodding slowly. "She's a curious one, but she's nice. Her mom, however.." He lets the sentence trail off.
He sighs before continuing. "I don't know, maybe she's in a bad mood. She was a bit harsh on her earlier."
His parents share a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. After a pause, his dad speaks softly. "You should be friends with her."
"Why should i?" He frowns slightly.
"She might need friends, 'kuna." his mom adds, gently brushing Sukuna's hair back.
The conversation goes on for a while before Sukuna eventually wanders off to his room. Sunglight pools across his floor as he drops onto his bed.
He tells himself that he doesn't care about you. But the interaction at the playground keeps replaying on his mind.
Meanwhile there's you, sitting on the edge of your bed, hands clenched on your lap.
Voices rise downstairs. Sharp, loud, and angry in a way that they've stopped trying to keep it quiet. Your name slips once, the sound tight and even more angry.
You stare at the floor, heart pounding. You promised yourself that you'd see Sukuna tomorrow. No matter what your parents say.
Downstairs, the argument keeps going.
You go back the next day.
He's already there, sitting in the same spot. Instead of tearing up grass, he brought snacks this time. He glances up when you approach, his guarded expression melting into something softer when he sees you.
After that day, it becomes a routine.
You go there almost every day without your parents knowing. Some days you talk, some days you don't, just enjoying each other's company. Sometimes you argue over nothing, share snacks, or trade small observations about anything around you.
When you ask about his bruises, he tells you they're from sparring at his martial arts class after school. Then he starts showing them off, insisting they're 'cool.'
It feels like your own small world.
Your parents finally catch you playing with Sukuna one afternoon, their footsteps cutting across the playground.
Your dad calls your name, sharp enough to make you flinch.
The happiness drains from your face the moment you see them.
Your body goes rigid, fingers tightening in the grass. Without warning, your dad grabs you roughly and pulls you back, making you grimace in pain.
Sukuna's on his feet instantly.
"Heyâ" the word tears out of him. "Let go of her!"
Your mother shoots him a look so cold it could freeze the air.
"Stay away from her," she snaps. "She doesn't need a friend with no manners like you."
"Don't act like you don't know," she scoffs. "She comes here without our permission, you probably encouraged it."
Sukuna blinks, stunned by the accusation. "I didn't make her do anything!" his hands shaking from how hard he's clenching it. "She wanted to come."
"Our daughter would never do that if there's no one encouraging her," your mom laughs condescendingly. "You're a bad influence."
The word lands like a slap on the face.
Sukuna just stands there. Not yelling, not fighting, just looking at you, hurt flickering in his eyes.
After a moment, your parents pull you away from him.
You twist in their grip, trying to look back at him. He's standing there with his fist clenching, looking at you like he doesn't understand why you're being taken away from him.
Your dad's hand tightens, forcing you forward.
And just like that, Sukuna sees you for the last time.
The next day, he comes to the playground, but you don't.
Seconds pass, then minutes, then hours. You still don't come. Sukuna doesn't move. The snack beside him sits unopened, already forgotten.
Footsteps crunch on the gravel. He looks up immediately, hoping it was youâbut it's not. It was one of the adults in the neighborhood.
"Hey, kid," they say gently. "You shouldn't wait here."
The adult hesitates, then sigh. "Her parents.. they don't want her coming here anymore."
"They said she won't be playing with you again."
The words doesn't make sense.
"They think you're a bad influence," They add quietly. "they said you're bad for her future, so they're keeping her away. For good."
Sukuna doesn't answer. He just stares at the ground, jaw tight. After a long moment, he grabs the snack beside him and shove it into his bag, movements angry.
"Thanks," he says to the adult quietly.
Then he turns and walks away without looking back.
He doesn't come back the next day, or the day after that. The playground remains the same, the swings creak softy, the grass still flattened where you used to sit together, as if nothing important just ended.
Years slip by, old memories softening into something easier to ignore.
You're in college now, living alone, finally far away from your parents.
The days blur into lectures, assignments, projects, and part-time work. It's not really exciting but at least it's peaceful.
Your last class just finished, and students scramble out of the room. Laughter echoes down the hallway, conversation overlap, you move with the crowd, already thinking going back to your apartment.
But you see a familiar silhouette leaning against a pillar, talking to someone. Tall, broad shoulders, and what's thatâtattoos?
Your steps falter, breath catching in your throat. He turns slightly to your direction, as if sensing weight of your gaze.
For a moment, you only see his profile. Sharper, older, unfamiliar in any ways.
He squints, then his eyes widen just a fraction, your name almost forming on his lips.
He stops before it comes out. He just stares at you, his expression guarded, as if he's putting up a wall.
But then he strides toward you, each steps confident and unmistakeable.
Panic flares in your chest. You look around for some sort of escape, but there's nowhere to go. When you look forward again, he's already in front of you.
"You," he says flatly. "what are you doing here." It doesn't even sound like a question.
"H-huh?" you stutter. "Oh, uh.. i study here."
His eyes narrow, sharp and unblinking, studying you. "Do you even remember me?"
"Right," he snorts. "how long has it been? Ten years?"
You nod, shame flooding your chest. It's been ten whole years you last saw him, and you can't even bring yourself to look at his face after that one day.
"...Let's go somewhere quieter." He takes your hand gently, a stark contrast to everything you've felt these past years.
He leads you to the quiet park behind the campus. The chirping birds and the rustle of leaves do little to soothe the tight knot in your chest.
He let go of your hand and turns around. The air between you is heavy, thick with words that neither of you know how to start with.
"How's your life? Did it get any better without me in it?" he asks bitterly, the question coming out harsher than he intended.
You gulp and let out a shaky exhale. "Noâ"
"Do you still let your mom control everything in your life? Or do they still think i'm a bad influence for you, that i'll ruin your future?"
You squeeze your eyes shut at the train of question, chest tight, every unsaid word for the past ten years pressing down on you. With a trembling breath, you finally look up at him.
"N-no.. not anymore," you say, voice shaky. "I left home last year, and i don't... i don't know what they think about you now. They probably don't remember you.."
Sukuna's eyes soften slightly, the usual sharpness fading into something almost fragile. He leans back slightly, letting out a almost inaudible sigh.
"I still think about you, y'know. All these ten years, i still hoped you'd come back to me."
His admission makes your eyes widen in surprise. You swallow hard, your chest tightening at his words.
"Don't," he cuts you off. "don't apologize for something that's not your fault."
You blink, caught off guard by the his firmness in his tone.
"I feel like i should've apolâ"
"It's not your fault," he repeats, looking away in frustration. "you were just following what your parents said, you had no choice."
At that moment, you notice something different about him. He's softer now. He's still a bit harsh like when he was kid, yes, but he's more gentler around the edges.
"I wanted to reach out to you," you say suddenly, making his head snap back at you. "saw my friend's instagram photo, and there you were. I clicked on the tagged account, i even had the courage to message you, but i was... a coward."
Sukuna looks at you, and without thinking, he brushes a strand of your hair back. You can feel heat creeping up your cheek at the contact.
"Mhm, because of that day," you explain, voice barely a whisper. "i saw the hurt in your eyes when my mom talked badly about you.. and i thought you hated me."
He exhales slowly, a small, almost sad smile tugging on his lips.
"I missed you," he says. "i still buy your favorite snacks, still going to the playground when i have free time, though you won't be there."
"So how could i ever hate you?"
Your heart pounds loudly in your chest. The tension of the past ten years still lingers, but seeing his soft eyes, it feels... warm.
"I missed you too," you finally admit, voice quiet. "we were something, don't you think?"
"Something?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Y'know... we were best friends. But they had to ruin it all."
Sukuna laughs, low and soft, the sound carrying a mixture of relief and fondness. "You're implying we're not best friends anymore?"
"What?! No! i mean.. are we?" You stammer, cheeks heating.
Sukuna tilts his head, a teasing glint in his softened eyes. "Of course we are," he says quietly. "Unless.. you want us to be more than best friends?"
"Huh?!" Your voice suddenly squeaks. "Oh, sorryâ i mean, huh? but we're best friendsâ"
Sukuna smirks, a teasing glint in his eyes. He loves how flustered you are over his words.
"Best friends, yes," he says slowly. "But doesn't mean we can try for more, if you want."
You bite your lip, trying to calm your pounding heart. "I never thought about it," you admit. "I don't know if i'm ready.."
Sukuna leans in a little closer, hands brushing yours before holding it. "Hey," he murmurs. "We can take it slowly, no rush at all."
"We just met after ten years," he smirks faintly. "We'll have to get used to each other again, won't we?"
"Yeah.. i guess we do," you say, glancing at him and meeting his gaze steadily. "It'll take a little time, but i'm glad i get to see you again."
He notices your steady voice, and a satisfied smile spreads on his face
"Good," he chuckles softly. "Just know that we'll get through everything, yeah? No running away again from me."
"I won't," you reply, chuckling despite yourself. "Promise, 'kuna."
The nickname makes him smile even wider. His hand lifts, fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. The touch is gentle, almost reverent, and you can't help but lean in to his touch.
"You know," he starts. "I still care for you, and i will.. forever."
Š mochaization 2026. DO NOT copy, reconstruct, reupload on any other platform, or feed my works to AI.
