➷ Unspoken Conditions ✦ 5 || Conditions
fratboy!sukuna x f!reader — fwb ✦ ongoing series
[ SERIES SYNOPSIS ] — it was obvious when this started, it was simply a mutual understanding between two horny college students, with very high libidos, and didn’t want any random stds that this was purely a sexual relationship only. and yet, both of you are unintentionally toeing the line between that and something else.
[ TAGS ] — [18+]. MDNI. nsfw. LOTS OF ANGST. family drama. plot. piv. fwb. rough. spitting. degradation. DUMBIFICATION. sukuna’s happy trail. dacryphilia. toxic frat culture. fingering. scent kink. sukuna has anger issues. OVERSTIMULATION. oral fem!recieving. sukuna’s a MUNCH. violence. slut shaming. insane SQURITING!! crying. toxic co-dependency — wc: 21.5k
series masterlist ✮ previous chp ✮ next chp (coming soon)
“jesus fuck,” he spits in annoyance, shoving yorozu off his mouth. “i wasn’t even playing,” he barks in anger, standing up with his drink.
yorozu bats her lashes up, “you were sitting in the circle,” she coos, as if the sound of her voice is anything but irritating. “and you kissed me back.”
sukuna tsks, stepping over the crowd of his junior teammates. he was initially talking with them when more people sat around and started playing spin the bottle, and before he could blink he felt a girls lips on him.
his mind was moving slower than he’d like to admit. the lack of sleep, and stress from the rolling events of the last few weeks. all of it had his movements delayed, so when he felt the first touch of someone’s lips on his, he couldn’t help, but sink.
his lips moved against hers, eyes closed briefly until he felt the unfamiliar force of someone’s tongue pushing into his lips. this isn’t the same type of a kiss that always had him reeling. that’s when he’s suddenly pushing the the sorority president off.
his jaw clenches at the interaction, shoving through the crowd, to get some fresh air. this better not get that psycho attached to him again, he curses.
sukuna presses his fingers to his eyes, rubbing them aggressively before finally looking up. chest suddenly tugging.
you were a few feet away by the benches. head thrown back laughing. the weird fuzzy lighting from the fairy lights strewn above the backyard illuminated your face like a halo. pretty. you probably just arrived, he thinks, pushing past a few more men to head to you.
however, his stomach twists the moment the whole group comes to view.
there you were smiling, as gojo leans close to you, laughing at something shoko had said, his hand casually feeding you smarties that you’re both sharing. your lips part with ease, touching his fingers as you take the candies into your mouth, before he’s retracting his hand and dumping a handful of smarties into his mouth, and licking the same fingers after.
you don’t seem bothered in the slightest, even as your eyes close laughing a little louder, slapping gojo’s chest lightly leaning against him, and gojo has an arm wrapped around the bench behind you. the entire thing left a bad taste in the vp’s mouth.
“move.”
sukuna suddenly appears beside gojo, hand coming to the white haired man’s head, shoving it lightly.
“woah, where’d you come from?!” gojo’s still laughing as he easily moves to the bench beside geto. your eyes flick up briefly, before turning your attention back to nanami.
“keep going, kento,” you say, unbothered as sukuna plops himself beside you, legs spreading on instinct and arm taking gojo’s spot on the back of the bench.
sukuna sips his drink, “what’re we talkin’ about?”
gojo laughs, “oh this girl is hitting on ken hardcore at his work study and he basically—“
“you don’t have to explain the whole thing again. just let him finish,” your cold words cut the conversation, silencing everyone. satoru pauses awkwardly glancing between you and sukuna. everyone feels a sudden shift in the air as sukuna’s brows pinch in mild confusion.
nanami clears his throat, “yeah, uh so after I went back to my desk and—“ his story trails on, sukuna does his best to focus, but it was difficult when he’s glancing over at you and sees how tight your shoulders are, arms and legs crossed, back resting against the bench, but avoiding his arm. you also weren’t laughing as loud as he’d seen before.
did something happen? sukuna leans over, voice low so only you can hear.
“when’d you get here?”
you take a deep breath, itching your chin, “dunno probably over an hour now,” you don’t meet his eye, so you miss the annoyance that crosses his face.
“you should’ve texted me, so you didn’t have to wait here—“
“I wasn’t waiting,” you cut immediately, eyes sharp. sukuna pauses, even more confused at the expression itched on your face. “I’m talking with my friends, it’s not like I’m sitting around waiting for you all the time.”
“did i say all the time?” he snaps back in quick irritation at your targeted attitude.
you huff out a sigh, turning back to nanami just for shoko to have noticed the tense interaction between you both and interrupt with your name. “you didn’t finish telling me what happened with your meeting.”
utahime clasps her hands, “oh my god yeah! you haven’t told me yet!”
that’s when your stomach drops.
“what meeting?” geto glances up from his phone.
“she had a meeting this morning with her screenwriting professor who really really likes her and invited her out for brunch,” utahime gushes on your behalf.
“oh yeah, I forget you minor in film,” geto hums. all the attention now on you, including sukuna’s, body turning slightly to listen.
“yeah,” you smile, “it was fine. she was really nice, complimented all the stuff I did this semester, said she really sees me having a good future if I wanna pursue film, and told me to keep in touch.”
“and the internship?” utahime leans forward, eyes bright, you almost hate yourself for cursing her out in your mind. specifically coming here as to not think about this morning.
“it’s like whatever.”
“what d’ya mean?” shoko presses.
you laugh, embarrassment coursing through your veins as you feel all their eyes on you. “like she didn’t fully bring it up and the conversation was going pretty well so I didn’t wanna ruin it.”
“but—“
“it’s fine,” you laugh, “film isn’t even my major so let’s just talk about something else. it went well so that’s the good thing,” you stop them from asking anymore questions, and both utahime and shoko give you sympathetic looks understanding immediately; while the boys don’t fully grasp what’s happening and easily change the subject.
sukuna however, similar to his friends, didn’t fully understand what the meeting with your professor meant, but he does notice how you went from laughing, to tense and short, to not speaking at all now. your eyes distant as you disassociate completely. mind wandering back to the morning brunch.
“anyone want more drinks?” he stands, counting geto, shoko, and nanami. then he calls your name, “come help me.”
“oh i can help,” nanami moves to stand, but sukuna shoots him a glare, hand wrapping around your wrist tugging you up before anyone could protest, ignoring the way shoko’s lips part.
you don’t have time to argue, when this large man is suddenly dragging you towards the house. “I can walk myself,” you twist your hand free, “jeez,” you mutter, glancing up when he halts with you. your breath catches, cheeks flushing at the expression on his face. “what?”
“are you mad at me?” his tone is clipped, irritated. your lips part. “did something happen?”
“what,” you’re baffled by how forward he is, glancing away in annoyance. “nothing happened, I’m fine, clearly.”
“yeah, you’re very convincing,” he scoffs, getting closer, seeing if he can read your thoughts.
you put your hand up to keep him from getting in your space, “well I’m tired from studying, and the meeting…” you grumble the last part, making his brows pinch.
“thought you said it went well,” he says, you roll your eyes.
the nerve. seriously, you should make interrogations a goddamn condition…then again, you’ve done plenty of that with him.
“no it didn’t go well, that was a lie. I was lying. she’s not responsible for awarding the internship, even if its part of her department, so she really just wanted brunch because she liked me or whatever,” you ramble, head falling back, as exhaustion seeps from your pores. sukuna frowns, stepping forward to touch your waist, just for you to step back oat the mere contact. “don’t.”
“don’t what,” he follows, but you take another step back, sharp glare targeting him.
“I’m not in the mood for you to touch me is what,” you huff, cheeks flushing at the confusion on his face. god, he’s so annoying. you swallow a thick lump in your throat, lips parting, tight pounding in your temple, “so don’t.”
sukuna stops, brows pinching, knot twisting in his chest.
a loud commotion breaks your conversation, both of you glancing in the direction with annoyance, expressions unnervingly identical. a couple of guys from another frat were picking up girls and tossing them into the pool. one of which was the pearl’s president who is making a show now of stripping her pink skirt and white top after coming out of the pool.
she manages to hold everyone’s attention, men and women alike catching their breaths as she glides her hands down her curves soaking up all the wandering envious glared like a fuel, almost as if the humiliation sukuna had targeted to her was being wiped clean. her eyes cut through the crowd in seconds, landing on the one person that she begs to look at her, sukuna.
you notice immediately, and the ugly bubble of disgust crawls up your spine, causing you to dramatically roll your eyes, brushing past the soccer captain.
sukuna immediately turns, the half-second he spent glancing at the commotion was enough time for him to grow sick of the sight and follow after you. you try to head back to your friends, but he catches your bicep again, easily tugging you to his broad chest.
“we’re still talking,” he meets your eyes, noticing your gaze locked on the sorority president who seems to be watching you both closely. her eyes are livid, you can see it from here, she whispers something to one of her friends pointing at you.
sukuna’s brows pinch, and the stupid unfiltered part of him decides to shove itself out as follows your line of sight, then glancing at you again, “did you see?”
your body goes rigid.
party falling silent,
you feels sick and annoyed all at once, and it only gets worse when sukuna’s starts talking, “she kissed me, we didn’t fuck,” he’s defending himself before you get the chance to say anything. your throat constricting as you sigh.
“I’m not—“
“so you are mad at me,” he snaps aggressively, grip tightening around your bicep, making you squirm slightly. “you could’ve said something if that’s what you’re thinking about.”
“dude, chill,” you huff, shoving his hand making him let go immediately. “god, you’re so dramatic,” you mutter, brushing your arm as you glare up at him. “I’m not mad at you jeez. I’m just fucking frustrated with my own stuff — again not everything’s about you,” you scoff, finding it amusing how you don’t even believe your own words to fullest. “or are you the only one that’s allowed to be upset about things?”
his jaw clenches.
you glance between his dark crimson eyes. he’s not saying anything.
but you don’t want him touching you. why?
you can’t even admit to yourself why! so now you’re glancing at his lips, cheeks flushing and vision turning a sick red knowing who’s lips had just been on his.
it wasn’t yours from this morning…it was some other girl…some girl that’s glaring daggers across the yard, scrambling to figure out who the fuck you are.
someone that forced herself onto him.
so why is it getting harder for you to breathe? why are you seeing red when you glance down at his pretty lips.
why are you getting more angry when he easily bends down to your height, exhaling heavily like he’s holding himself back because you told him not to touch you. all of it was causing your heart to beat faster than usual, noticing the way he looks over your features. grip clenching, tempting to crawl up to touch your waist—
“kuna!!”
a cold sticky splash hits sukuna straight in the face. you jerk back in shock.
“what the fuck!” he barks, hand coming down on his face, wiping the beer off his face.
yorozu, only wearing her pink lingerie, stands with the evidence in her hand, an empty solo cup, her chest heaves dramatically, eyes bloodshot and crazy, whipping her head to you now.
your eyes widen when the girl suddenly steps towards you. “who the fuck even are you?” she snaps with such judgement, looking you up and down like some rat from the subway. you seriously can’t help the way you step back in absolute cringe. face twisting like you smelled something atrocious,
“oh my god, this is unreal,” you scoff, brushing past her and getting away from the entire crowd of people that seem to be stuck in some cringey ass high school drama movie.
by the time you find your friends again, gojo and utahime are standing on their tippy toes trying to see what the commotion was all about on the other side of the yard.
“what’s goin’ on?” gojo asks when you appear out of the crowd.
you glance over your shoulder, face in a perpetual state of disgust and cringe, “that president that sukuna supposedly ‘hates’, threw a drink at him.”
“what?!” gojo and geto both get on their feet. “what’s he doing now?” geto asks.
“dunno, I left when she got up in my face,” you sit back on the bench with a loud huff. geto and gojo glance at each other again, and in seconds they’re pushing through the crowd stumbling through to find their friend, praying things haven’t escalated.
your remaining friends look back at you, clearly for some explanation. but instead, your fingers pinch your nose, head falling back.
“you okay?” utahime quietly comforts sitting beside you. she presses her hand over the one on your lap, and you feel a damn crack inside you. throat running dry in moments.
god, this is so exhausting.
you can feel the familiar hot stinging behind your eyelids, afraid to even respond not knowing what’s stirring inside you. your thoughts and feelings all a mess, and now all you can feel is the sinking in your stomach and the overstimulation of what was supposed to be a small mixer. you just wanted him…
“is she okay?” you can hear gojo’s distant voice as shoko answers. the attention feels like you’re being some sensitive baby that can’t take someone getting up in their face. you can! but that doesn’t mean you want any of the drama. that’s quite literally the main fucking reason you had this agreement! it was all too much, too much for someone who already had a pretty shit way of organizing her thoughts!
“here, i got you some water,” gojo sits on the other side of you, but your unable to take your hand off your face now, knowing exactly what’ll happen if you do.
you swallow thickly, before muttering a short. “thanks.”
“what happened?” shoko attempts to take the attention off of you as geto returns a few moments later, with a very angry sukuna huffing right behind him.
“the last time we’re ever fucking inviting that fucking psychotic ass sorority!” sukuna is swearing up and down as he pulls his beer drenched shirt off, tossing it aside and airing his baseball cap before putting it back on backwards.
geto glances over his shoulder, spotting most of the main kappa phi pearl members huddled around their deranged president. “yeah…just stay away from her or we’re gonna be caught in another problem.”
“I have been!” sukuna throws his hands up in exasperation. “I’ve been keeping my distance from that bitch all fucking night—“
“but you kissed her.”
the group goes silent.
everyone turns to you. shoko’s brows pinch in concern as utahime looks absolutely baffled at the reveal. however, the boys look even more shell shocked, as they stand still, including nanami.
sukuna’s jaw is taunt. red irises gleaming under the fairy lights, gaze locked on you.
“when did you kiss her??” gojo’s eyes snap to the man, who’s eyes haven’t left yours, noticing the slight gloss that shines over them.
“I didn’t kiss her,” he snaps coldly.
your brows pinch in irritation, “shoko.”
“we both saw you,” she agrees.
sukuna’s eyes are livid, adrenaline and sleep deprivation pumping through his veins as he glares at you in disbelief, and you reciprocate it with an annoyed shrug and a look that basically screams what?
“I told you I didn’t kiss her, she kissed me— doesn’t mean I asked her to go insane like she always fucking does,” he defends, words aggressive and heated.
you roll your eyes, “you kissed her back though.”
“are you fucking kidding me?!”
“dude we literally saw, right shoko!” the more defensive he became, the more heated you got.
shoko hums nodding her head, and as calm as she looks right now, shoko can’t help glancing at utahime as they both look between you and sukuna in worry. same for the other three men who are frozen in place.
“so you’re saying I asked for it!” he snaps.
your eyes widen, throwing your hands up towards him, “who’s the one putting words in my mouth now! if you don’t want drama, don’t kiss a million fucking people.”
“so kissing you and her is a million people?” he barks.
“you’re unbelievable—“
“what! I’m just repeating exactly what you’re saying. you forgot to add the part that we’re not dating, we fuck. fucking and kissing are two different fucking things!” his aggression only adds more punch to his words making you catch your breath in shock. “I’m not your fucking boyfriend, so I don’t know what the fuck you’re getting pissed about.”
you look around the group, putting one hand up, “raise your hand if you heard me say anything about him being my boyfriend?” no one raises their hand. “no one? yeah, that’s because that wasn’t even my point, dumbass,” you huff. “what i was saying is if you don’t want drama, don’t make any.”
“I wasn’t!”
“so did you or did you not kiss her back?”
sukuna groans loudly, “she threw herself at me!” he hits his chest, “are you not hearing that fucking part? do you have selective hearing or some shit?” sukuna aggressively taps his temple like you’re some simpleton.
you roll your eyes, “for someone supposedly smart, you’re really fucking dumb.”
“says you! jesusfuckingchrist!”
suddenly gojo and utahime are stepping in, getting between the both of you as she loops her arms with yours getting you to stand. “let’s go breathe.”
“yeah, take a break,” gojo pushes his friend to sit in your spot as utahime drags you further into the dancing crowd beside the pool.
“oh my god he’s such a dick,” you huff, face hot with anger and mind still pounding. utahime fans your face with her hands as she nods.
“it’s okay, it’s okay, everything that you said made sense, he’s just an idiot,” she agrees, body moving to the beat to get you to loosen up. luckily no one can hear your conversation over the music.
you help fan your face with your hands, inhaling sharply as your head tilts back, “never said he was my boyfriend,” you mutter.
“she’s pulling shit from her ass and I’m the dumb one!” sukuna continues to curse, grip so tight on the bottle, no one would be surprised if it shatters in seconds. “you all know how fucking insane that twisted bitch is — why the fuck would I get involved with her again??”
they all agree with him, nodding along, and humming and union, except for shoko, frowning. she quietly smokes her cigarette, eyes narrowing at the shirtless soccer captain.
it’s been a couple weeks since you started this deal with sukuna, and unbeknownst to you, your two closest friends are unsure how to feel about the relationship. shoko knows how stressed you are, you’re both bio majors on pre-med tracks, and while she takes her stress out by smoking cigarettes or weed — she knows you have a different source of relief, one that she vaguely knows about from freshman year.
the memories of freshman year when you first met by being paired for a group project in the fall. as much as you smiled and laughed, you were closed off, more than shoko was. it was to the point where shoko who had assumed you’d grown close and would be considered close friends, had no idea what you were struggling with until winter break.
she swallows thickly remembering you laughing the next day and vaguely explaining to her that you were on antidepressants, but you were trying to slowly wear them off, since you weren’t heavily reliant on them. but you accidentally miscalculated which caused the dark episode you had when she came by.
shoko was hesitant to leave you after that, but you reassured her over and over. nevertheless, the uneasiness she felt towards that moment left a lasting impact, even years later.
by the time your first year ended and the next year began, you were moving differently. you were still you, but there was a heaviness on your shoulders, something that utahime thought she could make better by telling you these speed dates she’s doing.
while shoko doesn’t like to think everything is so linear, or black and white. there were just so many blind spots to you, but what she knows is your stress, and your adamant refusal to have any drama or external problems weigh you down more than you already are.
which leads her to hating, but subtly relying on the man in front of her. the same one that had taken your stress away ten-folds for blocks at a time. but now it’s looking like he’s just going to add to it now.
shoko holds the nicotine in her lungs, letting it simmer inside before exhaling your name, “she doesn’t like drama.” she starts, turning the mens attention to her. “that’s really almost everything to it. you denying it and just stirring the pot is drama in it of itself.”
sukuna scoffs, “she was stirring the fucking pot by getting me to admit to something she already fuckin’ believes!”
shoko rolls her eyes in disbelief. men.
“she wasn’t trying too—“ shoko starts, but the man cuts in.
“I need a fucking drink,” sukuna stands back up, shoving through the crowd.
shoko shakes her head, even she can admit that your stress is being targeted towards the frat boy, and maybe seeing utahime trying to get you to dance instead of cool down didn’t look like the best idea.
utahime isn’t a party girl, but she’s also the best person to go to a party with. especially when she’s having you jumping up and down to house music with no alcohol in your system.
the music is too loud, the bass vibrating straight through your ribs, bodies pressing in on all sides, sweat-slick and carelessness.
you let your eyes close. just for a second.
the image of sukuna kissing yorozu resurfaced behind your eyes making your jaw clench. your stomach churns thinking about exams in a few days. all of it was making your feet feel lighter , your heart pounding faster trying to escape, and your senses start to lose ground.
you sway, weight shifting back as someone bumps your shoulder, and you’re not fully realizing the slight slip of your heel until you’re tilting back without thinking. body weightless for a moment, and gravity hanging you midair.
and the music cuts out in a single, ugly splash.
the water swallows you whole.
the shock steals the breath from your chest. as you sink, blowing bubbles at the loss of air in surprise.
after a moment, you break the surface with a sharp inhale. heaving as your shirt clings to your chest uncomfortably, heavy against your skin. you blink the water from your lashes, dragging a hand down your face. perfect, you think. catching your breath.
“are you okay?!” utahime pushes the crowd to get to the edge of the pool while your head is tilting back, staring up at the night sky in complete boredom. great, really this is great.
across the patio, sukuna just cracked open a beer when he hears the splash sharp enough to cut through the music. he glances up in annoyance, someone better not be fighting, or jumping off the fucking roof, but then he sees the ripple, and then spots you.
his brows pinch, stepping forward, glancing to see if it was any of those dipshits that tossed you in. but you were standing still in the pool like you chose to be there.
something tight and ugly coiled in his chest.
a few people crowded the edge asking if you were okay. some guys still in the pool swam over to check on you, since you scared a few with the sudden fall and splash. you don’t answer right away. your eyes half-lidded, completely unconcerned, like the world didn’t just knock you off your feet, literally this time.
sukuna doesn’t remember setting the beer down.
but by the time he gets to the pool, his jaw is clenched, and his shoulders are rigid. you’re brushing wet hair out of your face with annoying calm. bringing obvious attention your chest. your shirt clings to you like a second skin, the collar wet and sticking low on your chest revealing most of your cleavage. the hickey he marked your skin with last night prominent, but it wasn’t enough to keep almost all the men around you from checking you out. especially the pebbling of your nipples through your sheer shirt, your thin bra doing absolutely nothing.
you don’t even notice, you’re entirely somewhere else, staring at the reflection of the lights wobbling on the surface.
but sukuna notices.
his jaw tightens so hard it aches. he steps in fast. his broad shoulders cut through the half-circle of bodies like he’s clearing a path on instinct alone. he opens his mouth, already halfway to saying something stupid and vague—some bullshit or anything that will get you out of the water and away from these perverts eyes—
then two hands slams into his shoulder blades. hard and rough.
he stumbles, more from surprise than force. his boots skid on the wet concrete as someone shouts his name. but once he turns, it’s too late. the shove sends him backwards. and there’s a split second where his eyes meet yours.
then he hits the water.
the splash is loud. bigger than yours. the cold shock drags the breath out of him as he goes under. the crowd oh’s all turning in disbelief, everyone looking to see the perpetrator.
sukuna suddenly breaks the surface. hot steam was leaving his ears as he swears loudly, water streaming down his face, finally snapping you out of your disillusion.
you blink.
“oh,” you say flatly, like he just walked into a room instead of being shoved into a pool.
sukuna glares at the edge of the pool, cap floating in the water and hair plastered to his forehead. he looks feral, like a wet tiger. furious and somehow still very aware of the fact that you’re standing a few feet away, wet shirt clinging, eyes finally focused on him.
the laughter around you grows, the party rolling on, but sukuna doesn’t hear any of it.
he only sees you.
and the fact that now everyone else does too.
“did you get thrown in?” he barks in your direction.
you shrug.
he mimics your shrug in irritation, “fuck is that supposed to mean? yeah or no?”
you roll your eyes, “no I wasn’t shoved,” you tsked, moving to the edge. sukuna watches you closely, eyes following every moment, along with all the men staring you down. you carefully climb out, water falling from you as utahime helps you.
“did you fall in?” she mutters in confusion, because one second you were dancing beside her, the next she heard a splash and you were gasping out.
you flush, head hitting her shoulder, “can we leave?”
she nods frantically, arm wrapping around yours as she leads you away. both of you ignoring the fuming man still in the pool.
shoko and the rest had came to the pool after the commotion, the boys gravitated to their overly pissed vice president, while shoko met you and utahime half-way.
“it’s over,” sukuna starts, easily hoisting himself out of the pool, abs clenching and beefy arms flexing as water cascades down his toned chest, “end the mixer, we got what we want.”
gojo frowns, “but the nights still young.”
“I did see a couple people start puking,” geto grits in annoyance.
“and more people have been coming since the videos of the apology were posted,” nanami adds, causing both geto and gojo’s eyes to bulge, both feeling sukuna’s eyes close in controlled anger.
“pull the plug,” he utters through clenched teeth. gojo groans in annoyance, dragging his feet towards the dj as geto glances back at his wet friend. the man was standing completely still, strong arms crossed, reeking of chlorine and alcohol and face pulled into a permanent scowl. he quietly observed shoko and utahime across the yard as they squeezed your drenched shirt, while you tried to brush them off. a weak attempt when he sees you give up in seconds and just close your eyes in exhaustion.
geto glances silently between sukuna and you, brows pinching in thought. everybody in the frat was beginning to get a hint at your relationship with sukuna. many of them had a list of go-to girls they’d call up for a quick fuck. however, geto and gojo were beginning to realize how you’re starting to become the exception for most of sukuna’s rules.
it was odd in a way, seeing sukuna staring daggers at you across the yard, deaf to the complaints that echo through the crowd.
gojo had taken the mic to conclude the hectic mixer, people moaned and groaned, dragging their feet as he cut the music. sukuna watches you closely, eyes narrowing when he sees a few guys stop by you, unable to make out a word, but he can see them eyeing your chest.
“I’m gonna cut the music in the house, do you wanna round the people upstairs and in the basement?” geto pats sukuna’s shoulder, but the man shrugs him off, ignoring what he said to head in the opposite direction of the house.
you’re completely worn out from the day, shoko was checking her phone to call an uber for you guys, while utahime did her best to airdry you.
“s’ whatever, we’ll just take the subway if the uber guy won’t let us in,” you mutter in defeat. however, utahime just whines lowly, brows furrowed.
“I wish I brought a jacket. we’re not getting on the subway when you’re basically see through,” utahime huffs, lips parting before catching something behind you, her face going dead still.
“what?” your brows furrow, following her line of vision over your shoulder.
sukuna stands directly behind you, brooding aura towering over the three of you, hair damp and water still dripping from his jeans as he eyes your chest. you frown, hands coming up to your collar, pulling the sticky shirt from your skin to shake it out. “you need something bud?”
his frown deepens, “parties over.”
shoko and utahime roll their eyes, “yeah we’re leaving,” utahime tsks. sukuna, however, pays the girls no mind, keeping his gaze locked on you and the annoyance itched in your face.
fuck, you’re so goddamn irritating! his mind screams, veins straining in his arms. it was almost impressive how you could get under his skin with just a look. he can practically read what your face was saying. you won’t believe a word he says.
his hand moves on its own, touching your wet cheek with his thumb—
“uber’s here,” shoko interrupts. you barely bat an eye as you brush past the fratboy, heading around the house with utahime beside you and shoko behind, both girls rolling their eyes at the man.
while the only good thing that happened today was the uber letting you ride soaked, sukuna had a longer night kicking people out of the frat. luckily nanami stayed for a bit to help, along with yuno, as members started dragging people passed out in the basement and the yard. geto kept dragging gojo by the ear because he kept flirting with girls.
nonetheless, today is really the gift that keeps on giving. a handful of pledges are cleaning up the kitchen as the older members start shoving people out. sukuna had just thrown some guy slamming the front door shut just when a familiar figure descends the stairs, dawned in one of his sweats and tshirt.
“fucking christ,” sukuna inhales sharply, walking away. “get the fuck out.” he doesn’t even care to point out his clothes on the sorority president.
“sukuna,” she cooes wickedly. “i forgive you.”sukuna’s vein twitches. “i know you’re angry at me, but i just wanted to say sorry. I can make it up to you, I didn’t wanna throw that drink on you but people were whispering about you and that girl, and I just couldn’t help it,” her small arms reach for the man’s bicep, just for the cord inside him to snap.
he shoves her arm off, her small frame stumbles back.
“don’t fucking touch me!” his dark orbs cut through her instantly, goosebumps breaking out across her skin. “if you touch me one more time, I’ll snap y’er fucking neck.”
the air between them goes quiet. a few stragglers glance as they make their way to the exit followed by a couple pledges shooing them with brooms.
yorozu swallows a lump, eyes shining with quick tears that further annoy the frat boy. she takes a cautious step forward, “but I said I’m sorry—“
sukuna clicks his tongue, loud and heartless. “when I told ya I never wanted anything to do with you, I wasn’t fucking joking. it’s not my fault you got y’er brain fried because i fucked you twice, and ya think I want anything to do with you after. but if you need me to say again, here it is. I. hate. your. fucking. guts,” he spits with shameless cruelty.
her lip trembles, “y-you don’t have to like me. we can just have sex.”
“sex?” he scoffs, “I’d rather fuck a brick wall then stick my dick anywhere near your loose ass cunt again. we only fucked when i was piss drunk,” the girl is already in tears. wet lips parting. “and I didn’t even like it then, and I like anything drunk.”
“you don’t mean that!” she sobs.
“I do,” sukuna tsks in disgust, walking past the sorority president, but the second her fingers make contact with his passing bicep, he snaps. “fuck off!” sukuna’s shout had her flinching, and the entire house stilling.
he side steps yorozu, looking straight at two members “someone get her out of this house.”
—
utahime and shoko both crashed at your place for the night. the two girls deciding on it themselves, unfortunately, you didn’t have the guts to reject them. so instead you silently stood under the hot water, mind desperately trying to forget the events of the night as you closed your eyes. the water slowly cascades down your body, washing off the all the chlorine and stench from the party.
you could barely keep your eyes open in the uber, but now your mind won’t stay quiet. instead it felt like you were being punished as thoughts of yorozu making a scene at the party, a drink getting thrown at sukuna, your meeting this morning—
a sudden knock interrupts your thoughts. “sorry, I really needa pee,” utahime pokes her head in.
“yeah ‘s fine,” you reply behind the curtain.
the night — as long, loud, and chaotic as it was — ended abruptly with your body hitting the bed like a dropped sandbag. you grumbled to shoko and utahime that you couldn’t keep your eyes open, even though the truth was the opposite: you were exhausted everywhere except your mind, which refused to shut up.
now the apartment is silent, save for the soft, uneven breathing of your friends. shoko is folded awkwardly on the air mattress in the living room. utahime is half-buried in a throw blanket on the couch, both dead to the world. meanwhile, you’re lying awake in your room still, eyes open, body heavy, and brain still sparking like a live wire.
you wanted the silence of sleep to take over, to quiet everything. but it wasn’t coming easy. the meeting earlier today replaying in your mind…your exams…that annoying drama filled kiss.
your throat tightens as you glance at the antidepressants on your nightstand. you don’t crave them. you resent them. you’ve been successfully wearing them off for the last few weeks. you’ve been sleeping much better since another relief has taken it’s place, one that fills your mind and body with a shot of dopamine. but as three am ticks by, the silence grows teeth, and you finally let a finger nudge the lid.
the trazodone bottle makes the smallest click when it opens, obscenely loud in the quiet. you swallow thickly, dry-mouthed, pulse still humming from long day, and the absence of a certain tattooed frat boy as a distraction you’re trying very hard not to think about.
you shake out a single pill and glare at it like it personally wronged you before chasing it down with a lukewarm sip of water. it doesn’t knock you out. it doesn’t save you. it simply smooths the jagged edge of awareness, dulling the quiet just enough for you to stop wanting to crawl out of your own skin.
not a cure, or a setback…just a pill for the night.
and even that feels like defeat.
unfortunately, sukuna didn’t have a pill to quiet the demons. instead his shower consisted of a growing fire inside him. annoyance and irritation scratching at his insides as he replayed the moments that have lead him into punching his shower wall until it cracked, and his knuckles bled.
“fuck!”
his back heaved with each breath, eyes bloodshot as he eyed his bruised hand. none of it able to snap his mind from spiraling.
his heavy footsteps rattled his room, mind pounding and thoughts like daggers. how could he be so worked up after he’s so close to the end of the semester? but after the stunt yorozu pulled, and now you’re throwing it back in his face, every path he takes feels like battle. and of all the things currently unraveling in his life, his fucking sex buddy wasn’t supposed to be an added problem. that was the whole point of the fucking agreement!
sukuna groans face buried in the mattress, pillow over his head.
a kiss? was it the action that set you off? or was it because it was yorozu? if it was the latter than he wouldn’t blame you. either way, you didn’t even know her like he did, how could you get so worked up over that. and from what he could tell, the sunken look on your face, the exhaustion you were desperate trying to hide — you should’ve just stayed and let him fuck you. that’s why he’s here.
nonetheless, it didn’t matter how many circles sukuna thought himself into. his mind kept him awake for a majority of the night, unaware of your own thoughts that snuck into your dreams.
starting from this point on, it was a waiting game.
sunday morning arrives too quickly. the pill never fully pulled you under, but it softened the night enough for you to function, like applying a blur filter to a scene you didn’t want to watch in high definition.
shoko and utahime kept a close eye on you when you all went out for coffee. your movements were slightly sluggish, your reactions a bit delayed, and your emotions dulled. neither of them questioned it at first, considering how utahime was slightly hungover from last night, and shoko was chugging her coffee like it would quiet her nicotine addiction.
now, the three of you are camped out at the library long before noon, claiming your usual corner table with your notebooks, ipads and laptops out. the half-finished coffees surrounding you. the atmosphere is studious, but restless.
the calm before a week that’s about to devour all of you.
your eyes stay glued to the page, but your mind keeps cutting elsewhere…the argument, the pool, the drink spilled, the confrontation with the sorority president, her voice like ice against your spine.
you groan internally, despising how often the memory resurfaces, but you hate even more how sukuna is distracting you. you drag your pen across your notebook, trying to rewrite what you’d just been thinking before.
shoko yawns, mumbling something about regretting the drinks she had towards the end of the night. your pen freeze on the page. utahime’s eyes widen, noticing your sunken expression.
“hey,” she nudges you with her foot under the table, her expression sharper than her tone. “do you wanna talk about…you know?” she tries to soften her voice for you. shoko finally realizing what she’d said, her cheeks flushing, why’d she bring up the party!?
you glance between your friends, smiling, “i was just thinking about the meeting I had.” you notice both your friends fall quiet. eyes filled with pity. you laugh quietly, tone laced with rejection, tapping your pen on the table, “kinda embarrassing how I thought I’d actually get an internship—“
shoko’s brows pinch tight, “don’t say that. this happens to everyone. I didn’t get a thousand internships either. that shouldn’t be a direct reflection of your abilities,” shoko huffs, her mind still pounding from her hangover. but utahime nods along, just as serious.
“yeah, remember I told you, it could still be beneficial in the long run. everything happens for a reason,” her hand squeezes your forearm.
the sudden confidence in you pouring from your friends was…suffocating.
you swallow thickly, nodding your head. “yeah,” you mutter, the slight dejection in your voice completely going over your friends heads as they smile. neither of them realizing the amount of rejection you’re nursing. how their belief in whatever you wanna do in the future is making you feel even more insecure. why are you even trying to pursue something so hard? you should just keep your attention focused on your exams, and medical school….
utahime tries to read your distant expression, nibbling on her cheek. shoko and utahime exchange glances wondering if this was a good time. it was the selfish part of them that wanted to know.
“have you heard anything…?” utahime cuts the study session again. you glance up with a raised brow. “from him?”
your heart skips a beat, palms clammy and the instinctual eye roll was hard to control as you scoff. “that’s the furthest thing from my mind right now.”
“that’s good, what he did gave me the biggest ick ever,” shoko adds, with utahime nodding erratically.
“yeah you don’t need that type of energy around you. you definitely deserve someone better,” utahime’s firm words seem to hit you the wrong way as you sigh.
your eyes cut up to your friends, half lidded with a hint of irritation, “he was never my boyfriend. I don’t wanna explain this again.”
“we know we know, we’re just saying he’s just so ugh—“ utahime going into further detail about last nights events wasn’t helping your pounding headache and growing nausea.
meanwhile, across campus, sukuna wakes up like he’s been resurrected by bad decisions. his head splits first, then the world slowly loads around it.
he’s completely overslept. the frat house is unnervingly quiet, sunlight slicing through his blinds like a punishment. then he registers his phone’s nonstop vibration — notifications, tags, blurry photos, videos, comments he’ll never read.
a disgruntled groan leaves the beast as he lazily swipes through the notification on his lock-screen, then drops the phone on his chest with another groan. hundreds of messages. a thousand shitty reminders of last night.
but not a single notification from you.
the absence hits harder than the hangover. not dramatic, or poetic. just… noticeable.
you flip a page. sukuna rubs his temples. both of you brace yourselves without saying it out loud: exams start tomorrow, summer is close enough to smell, and the next week is going to feel a lot longer without the other to drown in.
a week of hell.
sunday was spent a majority in the library. utahime left towards the late afternoon after finishing her essays. she only has two finals this week — unlike you and shoko — I guess that’s the perks of being a fashion major, and business minor.
you, on the other hand, felt like every passing second studying was like you were crawling your way out of hell. your body was sinking and your mind was wandering. the food truck food between you and shoko was only keeping you alive, not satisfying your hunger.
either way, the next day is when things slowly began to fall apart. specifically after your first exam.
the monday sun hits the courtyard like a spotlight. everyone looks exhausted, a little dehydrated, and stressed as hell. you, shoko, and utahime are halfway through lunch when utahime freezes mid-scroll, eyebrows shooting up.
“what?” shoko sips her iced coffee.
uathime is almost pale, turning the phone to shoko. you glance up, noticing both their frozen reactions.
“woah, i wanna see,” you say, crawling before they can react. and of course—
the biggest sorority on campus — kappa phi pearl — posted multiple different party recap photos/videos of saturday’s mixer at delta alpha stride. except the recap is basically exposing everything in pink glitter.
“what the…” you lean over, eyes narrowing at the first slide of their third post.
front and center: a photo of their president, yorozu, drunk-grinning, breasts pushing out of her top, hands gripping sukuna’s collar, and mouth pressed to his in the kiss he clearly did not initiate that night.
a wave of nauseous crawls up your throat. his crimson eyes are half-lidded in the photo, one brow raised, hand already mid-motion pushing her off-frame, irritated. but seeing him kiss her again, had an unwelcome feeling twisting in your gut for the second time.
“why would they even post that?” utahime scoffs in shock.
your finger just swipes to the next slide: the fight.
sukuna is on the patio, wild hair damp under his backwards baseball cap, shirt drenched from yorozu’s spilled drink, veins sharp with anger, jaw tight like it was carved specifically to ruin lives. and his finger was pointing at someone off-screen.
“when was this?” shoko questions.
you lick your bottom lip, breath-controlled. “I think after she threw her drink at him and I walked back to you guys.”
the comments however were eating that slide up:
‘not him fighting the air again 😭’
‘anger issues from our captain!! moreee🫦🫦’
‘red flag but… like… smashhh😍’
‘what’s his @…for b-blocking purposes ofc🙈’
‘when was this?? i always miss the drama!’
shoko cringes at the comments, while you swipe to the next slide…and of course it’s a video of the pool, and you just happen to be falling into it at the same moment.
“you’re not even part of the sorority??” utahime exclaims in disgust. “why would they choose this video??”
“I guess because those sorority girls are dancing on the side,” shoko tsks. your brows furrow as you watch yourself. your soaked shirt clinging to your chest for all their followers to see. however the camera pans back to the sorority girls on the side, and they start….laughing.
“what the fuck?!” shoko and utahime’s shout, jaws slack in shock, including yours.
“wait guys…” you turn to them in disbelief. “are we in high school again?”
“that’s literally insane,” shoko’s dumbfounded. “why’re you catching strays?”
“no for real, what the hell??”
this can’t be real? you’ve never been apart of any drama in college because it was so easy not to be apart of it, unlike high school. but after one night, it seems like your luck has run out.
“I’m gonna report them,” utahime starts, shoko hums as your head drops back.
“they don’t even know my name, why would they even include that in their recap?” your voice is laced with annoyance.
utahime tsks, “forget about them, I’ll handle it, especially because I can say some shit about your shirt literally showing everyt—“ utahime stops herself. “and we’re definitely skipping suguru’s shitty pool party this week too.”
“and we still have so many exams,” shoko whines, immediately letting reality set as you lean back into the sun.
“this sucks,” you mutter, fingers picking at the grass. your eyes drift towards the library you’ll inevitably end up in later. there was nothing distracting you from the overwhelming doom of finals week…and now this drama, and you don’t have a buffer. no sukuna.
‘wait who is the pool girl???’
‘the chlorine knew what it was doing😩’
‘she fell in and still looked hotter than everyone’
‘surprised no one jumped in after her🥵’
sukuna’s blood boils with every comment he scrolls through.
the boys had sent pearl’s recap posts to the groupchat, and after gojo came crashing into the vp after his final. sukuna was forcefully shoved their instagram page in his face, to see the multiple recap posts. gojo is swearing up and down about the first recap post they uploaded, where it was multiple different videos of his humiliating apology, minus sukuna’s part, he was livid. all the while sukuna is immediately recognizing himself on the cover of the next recap post.
“what the fuck?”
sukuna stops in the middle of the sidewalk. grip tightening around gojo’s phone.
“yeah man, there’s a thousand fucking angles of this goddamn apology and—“
sukuna quickly pulls out his own phone, finally checking the notifications he’s been avoiding since yesterday.
“not that—why the fuck would they post this shit?” sukuna grits, jaw tense as he sees the photo of yorozu kissing him. the comments are a mess, different people wondering if their favorite tiktok influencer/ sorority president is dating this guy. people tagged him a million times in their now deleted stories. a couple other fraternities and sororities that were there that night, posting their own recap posts with the apology, the fight he had on the patio, or him falling in the pool.
the worst one was their were just as many random comments about you. even though many girls had jumped in the pool, it was seeing your nipples through your shirt that sent many into orbit. or that bored expression you had that had so many commenting about how nonchalant you looked completely drenched.
“I’m gonna fucking kill them,” sukuna swears, quickly swiping through all the photos. there were more of him randomly, and gojo. it was normal for a recap post, but their captions were beyond misleading.
“tell me about it,” gojo swears, arm crossed as he glares at his phone. his speech playing from the speaker. “why wouldn’t they add your part.”
sukuna scrolls through the group chat briefly.
“a lot of the sororities unblocked us though. but I can’t stand this humiliation,” gojo grits, ruffling his white hair as he glances around, then stops… “did you get any texts from,” gojo mutters your name cautiously.
sukuna freezes.
“haven’t checked. been studying since yesterday,” he mutters sharply, cutting any further discussion. gojo hums, rocking on his heels catching the vp’s attention. his brow cocks in irritation at his friend. “what?”
silence followed the one word question, but sukuna’s eyes narrowed as he noticed gojo glancing over his shoulder. nodding subtly in the direction.
it had been less than forty-eight hours since the night. however, the ugly pit that sank deep in his gut was immediately triggered by your presence on the courtyard.
you were laying on the grass beside shoko and utahime. eyes closed under the spring sun. your lips parting still talking to your friends.
the unexpected twist in sukuna’s chest left a bad taste in the back of his throat. the memories resurfacing in seconds as his jaw locks. you hadn’t texted him, or called, but he also hadn’t reached out either. why would he? you were accusing him of everything!
“i was gonna say hi,” gojo treads carefully, eyeing his friend for any reaction.
sukuna shrugs his backpack higher on his shoulder. his gaze sweeps over you again. the wind gently brushes your hair as you sit up on your arm. you’re pointing at utahime as you say something.
“I’m gonna gooo nooow….” gojo drags each syllable, taking slow steps onto the grass of the courtyard. his hands in his pockets as he looks back at his grumpy friend.
sukuna shoots him an unamused expression, lip curled in a scowl at the white haired man’s antics. “then go.”
gojo frowns, “you don’t wanna say hi to your girlfriend?”
the word immediately triggers the tatted man, the vein in his temple snaps. he shoots a sharp glare at gojo as he turns on his heel. “fucking dick.”
gojo laughs, running after his friend. “I’m kidding I’m kidding! you’re so sensitive!” he throws his arm over sukuna’s shoulder, just to be shoved off by said man.
unbeknownst to either of them, your eyes had drifted from utahime to the commotion a couple feet behind her. your expression dulled at the sight of the six foot so athlete. he looked offensively good for someone just walking out of a final. his jeans sit low on his hips, a clean black t-shirt stretched slightly over a frame built from a strict schedule and diet, and a backwards baseball cap that only makes him look more like a hot fratboy. the familiar plain backpack hangs off one shoulder, and his headphones are looped around his neck.
of course, you recognize the familiar white haired man walking beside him, oversized hoodie half-zipped, sunglasses on, grinning like he’s just said the most diabolical thing ever. he nudges sukuna’s shoulder while talking, but sukuna barely reacts, hands stuffed in his pockets, posture loose, steps slow and sure, like the courtyard parts a little just for him without him noticing.
you wonder if other people see him the way you do? wait—
“you wanna head to library now?” shoko cuts your thoughts, ripping your attention away from the retreating men.
“yeah let’s go,” you stand, ignoring the slight flush that dusts your cheeks when you notice shoko and utahime glancing back. both catching sight of the men you were looking at.
“oh,” utahime slips, eyes trying to meet yours, but you’re already walking in the opposite direction.
as stressful and chaotic the week has been, sukuna still attempts to let off some steam with a run after his exam.
spring is melting into summer, humid and merciless, and it shows on him: sweat-drenched shirt clinging to a torso carved by D1 soccer conditioning, athletic shorts riding high on his muscular thighs showing off the bands of ink that wrap around each thigh, calves glistening from the pump, and headphones peeling off his ears as he crosses the yard. his backwards cap never moves, casual, and infuriatingly attractive, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat running down his face— even cardio couldn’t shake the arrogance out of his silhouette.
he’s breathing hard, body and temper still calibrating back to baseline when he returns to the house like a quiet storm cloud. the door slams harder than intended, rattling the crooked banner the new pledge-turned-members half-hung for friday’s pool party.
the frat is anything but quiet as sukuna crosses the house stepping onto the patio to see a majority of the members hanging out in the hot weather studying, or fooling around.
“oh! captain how was your run?” a younger member, also apart of the soccer team comes up to the sukuna as he grabs an energy drink from the cooler.
“fine,” sukuna dryly replies, still lost in his mind when he notices one of the new members. the first-year is sitting on the outdoor couch, legs kicked up, sorting through the week’s mail like it’s arts and crafts. folders, packages, envelopes, junk flyers from ads… and one sleek black folder stamped with a foreign crest that makes sukuna freeze mid-sip.
the first-year doesn’t notice the silence curdling behind him. his fingers flip the folder open, careless and nosy, like a guy who’s forgotten he was a pledge just a week ago. sukuna knows that folder. the same way a wolf knows its territory. his name is printed on the front, bold, clean, important. the first-year squints at it like he’s trying to solve some puzzle sukuna never gave him.
“hey…you guys get folders like this often?” the kid says, voice a little too loud for someone who’s inches away from committing a crime.
sukuna moves before anyone can blink.
one second he’s across the patio, the next his shadow is towering over the first-year, swallowing the afternoon sun whole.
he suddenly rips the folder from the kid’s hands. it was primal. the paper crackles in his grip. a few of the frat brothers look up from their beer-less studying circles, from the pool cleaning equipment, from their phones, and immediately feel the air shift.
“the hell do you think you’re doing?” sukuna speaks, low and molten. no tremor or shout, but simmering control.
the first-year feels his stomach drop to his ass, heart racing as sweat builds on his forehead. “i didn’t—i was just— it thought it was an a-ad—“ he sputters excuses, but sukuna doesn’t hear a single syllable. the air around him sharpens as the members exchange glances. because sukuna snapping is normal. but sukuna grabbing a folder like it contains someone’s soul? that’s new.
they feel the warning signs lighting up one by one.
“don’t fucking open the mail,” sukuna spits, just as gojo is stepping out onto the patio, decked in his usual sunglasses,completely shirtless, and swim shorts hanging low on his hips, unashamed of the fresh hickey decorating his sharp v-line, or the scratches down his back, or the girl disappearing out the front door.
“what’s going on—“ gojo reaches for a juice box, then stops. his eyes catch the folder in sukuna’s hand, the air grows thicker. “oh shit.”
sukuna frowns, cutting the punishment he was about to inflict on the first-year short. he crosses the patio, passing gojo with a silent threat not to speak as he enters the house. but gojo isn’t one to listen to threats, as he follows the vp.
“yo, when’d they email you?”
sukuna ignores him, heading towards the stairs to his room.
“dude?! i thought you weren’t—“ gojo huffs when sukuna continues up the stairs, completely ignoring him. geto is stepping out of the bathroom freshly showered, towel held by one hand when he hears gojo shouting. “well i’m happy for you, asshole!”
geto raises a brow as sukuna passes him— immediately noticing the folder.
“oh shit.”
sukuna grits, jaw tensing.
“when is it—“ geto starts, just for sukuna’s door to slam in his face. geto looks down the stairs, making eye contact with gojo as the two exchange irritated looks due to their hot headed friend. “fuck is his problem?”
gojo throws his hands up in an exasperated shrug. “don’t know. he was the one giving me shit over winter break for getting in one.”
geto hums, brows furrowed, “he’s been a dick all week.”
“stop talkin’ shit outside my door!” sukuna snaps from his room.
back inside, sukuna drops the folder on his bed, his breathing is still, eyes sharp as if he can read the contents through the black concealment. his beefy arms cross in thought, his mind spiraling as he stares holes into the folder.
this is both the best outcome, and the worst possible timing ever.
sukuna snatches the folder ripping it open.
the days felt like centuries. every final felt like a part of your lifespan being sucked away. each moment spent studying something you know you’ll definitely forget, felt like absolute torture and humiliation. reading the same question on the exam, and remember studying that exact topic, but forgetting how to solve it, was just god laughing at you.
but the cherry on top was returning home wednesday night with most of your finals under your belt, only two left, but you were so lost in your mind that you couldn’t recognize the man standing beside a parked car, hand in his pocket talking on the phone.
your headphones blasted music that’ll definitely be the cause of your hearing loss in a few years. you unlock your apartment, shoulder dropping, letting your bag hit the ground, already feeling the exhaustion of the day building up behind your eyes, ready to cry in the shower—
“you’re here!” a loud squeal sends you flying ten feet in the air, just as a little four year-old comes crashing into you.
“what the—“ you stumble back, holding the little girl, keeping your balance as you glance up, wide-eyed. “when did you get here??”
standing just a few feet away was jennie, your older sister, aka. the person you trust the most in life, and your biggest op.
“we’re in the city for sami’s meetings, our flight leaves friday, did you not see him downstairs by the car?” jennie asks, crossing the tiny living room to reach you, her arms wrapping over your shoulders for a tight hug. “i tried calling you, but i guess you were still in class.”
“finals actually,” you mutter, arms loose around her frame, forehead dropping on her shoulder. “I’m so tired.”
your sister coos, squeezing you tighter before pulling away. “well i bought you some pastries.”
“i want some!” your niece, yazzy, huffs by your leg.
“you had some,” jennie picks her up as she steps further into the apartment. you quietly glance at the suitcase by the couch, along with nice dress your sister was wearing, a couple of yazzy’s toys were also lying around. “did you have dinner yet?”
you shake your head, following her to the kitchen.
“mommy got you spaghetti and chicken!” yazzy claps, as your sister laughs lightly, you smile.
“we got dinner for yazzy, i asked them to box some pasta for you too,” your sister pulls the box of food from the microwave to keep it warm. “i put the pastries over the fridge, to keep ‘em away from this one,” she pumps yazzy up on her hip for emphasis.
you sit at the small kitchen table, grabbing the box of pasta. “thanks, you didn’t have to get me so much food,” you cautiously glance at her as she sets yazzy back down. “are you guys gonna stay the night?” a small part of you twists at the thought, but you shove it down. “I have the air mattress too, so i can take the couch and you and sami can sleep in the room with yazzy since i need the lights on to study.
you sister picks at the table, still standing across from you avoiding your eyes, “favor?”
your frown.
she smiles, full of semi-guilt, “sami has another fundraiser, it started an hour ago…and i was wondering if you could watch yazzy for the night so i can go with him.”
“jen.”
“I’m sorry, i tried calling you all day, but you weren’t answering!”
“i had finals—“
“all day?”
“I was studying, I wasn’t checking my phone,” you huff, glaring at your sister. your throat constricts as yazzy makes noises a few feet away with her toys. the tv playing some cartoon. “you couldn’t get a nanny for the night?”
jennie glares back at you, the type that makes you roll your eyes, “you know I don’t like that.”
“but you can get a personal driver in a city you don’t even live in,” you bite back coldly.
her tongue clicks, “that’s completely different.”
“whatever,” you grumble, neither of you breaking eye contact, until she glances over your face again.
“you look dead.”
you frown, “it’s almost like it’s not finals week, exactly why I can’t watch yazzy.”
“I’m asking for one thing idiot. it’s her bed time anyways, let her sleep the night and I’ll pick her in the morning before your class—“
“final.”
“yeah, whatever,” jennie always has a way of getting under your skin in seconds, and the easiest possible way is making you feel like shit for saying no, especially to her. “dad was also telling me to check on you.”
your frown deepens, finally glancing away.
“asked me if I knew you weren’t taking your mcats this summer,” she drawls, you briefly glance for her reaction. “I told him I knew.”
“what the hell??”
she sighs, sitting in front of you, her arms cross, “I wasn’t going to lie if he directly asks. I just wanted to check on my baby sister—“
“don’t say that,” you cringe.
she laughs, “well I wanted to make sure you’re okay—“
“and dump your kid on me—“
“your niece, who you haven’t seen in awhile,” she cuts in coolly, because when is she not?
you gasp, “I literally saw you guys in the summer. sorry you didn’t feel like visiting over winter break.”
your sister waves you off, “well are you doing okay?”
“yeah, I’m fine,” you lie through your teeth, and your sister immediately narrows her eyes.
“I thought you were getting off the antidepressants?”
your jaw tenses, eyes narrowing harshly, “why’re you going through my stuff?”
“technically this is still my apartment—“
“your husbands,” you correct.
she brushes your comment, again, “the bottles are like empty.”
“dramatic much? there’s still a few left. I’m just taking them this week, literally not your problem,” you huff, regretting the fact that she knows about this part of you. she has a cruel way of throwing any secret you tell her, back in your face.
“well when you act like a snappy bitch then I’m not dramatic since you have such an attitude,” she coldly claps back.
your blood freezes, annoyance boiling up inside, “you’re so annoying,” you mutter, standing up, completely over this interrogation.
jennie’s eyes narrow as you grab your bag from the front door. “why do you always get so defensive? I’m just talking to you, and you always get so butt-hurt?”
“I’m not butt-hurt, I just hate the way you talk to me like I’m an idiot,” you roll your eyes, already feeling the face your sister makes when she’s irritated and ready to rip you apart. it was a face that you felt deep in your soul, you knew and hated it so much.
“more like sensitive,” she points. your eyes roll into the back of your skull. “ignoring me?”
“whatever, go. I’ll watch yazzy,” you snap, “you’re so annnoying,” you mutter, not low enough for jennie to miss it though. you toss your bag into your room, making the four year old glance back at you and her mom from the couch.
“maybe take another pill too cool the flip down then,” jennie says as she crosses the small apartment to yazzy, kissing her forehead. “be good to auntie.”
your arms are crossed, weight leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom, beaded curtain resting on your back as you watch your sister grab her purse, fixing her heels on. she glances up at you, matching your harsh expression with her own. “call dad. him nagging me is annoying as hell.”
“almost like that’s not my life every freakin’ week,” you snap coldly.
“alMosT liKe tHat’s nOt mY liFe evERy weeK,” she mimics. your blood pressure spikes in seconds, successfully rage baiting you like the perfect older sister. “night.” she disappears with an eye roll, door shutting behind her.
your head drops, mind pounding as you hear your four-year old niece singing in the living room.
your sister brought up dad in the worst possible time, because now you’re spiraling as you pull up your phone, tapping your dad’s contact to read the multiple messages he’s sent you since the last time you spoke to him at the library. not only was he sending you forms to fill out for the hospital, he was sending you other doctors contacts, and their kids contacts who are in med school now. fuck!
“can we watch a movie together?” yazzy cuts in from the living room. you glance over, the girl is smiling so brightly it was blinding, and quite exhausting, it was nearing nine at night and she was not looking close to being tired.
“yup, lemme shower real quick and we can watch.”
one movie led to another, then another, until the soundtrack of kpop demon hunters was playing on repeat in your head, especially because your niece keeps rewinding every song.
the overwhelming pit in your stomach grew larger. it was amusing to think you could study while also sitting with her. the music and her four year old voice singing along felt like pure torture. the headache grew into a twisting sensation in your temples, head dropping back on the couch.
you love her to death…but seriously…
“again, again!” she jumps in front of the tv as she rewinds the song to golden.
the looming shadow of tomorrow’s exam made you feel worse. your stomach began hurting with the anxiety of failure…
as the night grew, you had to forcefully shut the tv after the clock struck eleven. the four year old would not stay still unless you laid beside her until she fell asleep. but the second you left her on your bed to go back to the living room to study, she’d suddenly appear beside you again.
“yazzy,” you sigh, exhaustion seeping through your bones as you stand up carrying her back to bed.
“don’t leave,” she mutters under her breath, small hands clutching your shirt. “I can’t sleep alone.” you sigh in defeat, humming. praying this time she’ll actually fall asleep so you can slip away again.
however, your prayers, once again, are not answered.
instead, you feel the moment you close your eyes, they were opening again, but the sun was up.
you wake up disoriented, the kind of heavy confusion that comes from sleep you never meant to have. the bed is warmer than it should be, sunlight harsher than it has any right to be, and your niece is already awake, blasting the same movie from last night.
your heart jolts awake before the rest of you does. you blink once, twice, and then it hits you like a thousand pound brick: you passed out, halfway off your meds, and completely off your shitty schedule.
you launch yourself out of bed, as the world tilts. your eyes quickly look around stumbling out of your room, landing on the floor after tripping on one of yazzy’s toys, scrambling over to grab your phone off the coffee table.
yazzy follows you with her eyes, music blasting from the tv behind her like a soundtrack to your mental breakdown.
the screen lights up. 9:34 AM.
“fuck!”
your exam is at 10. campus is 20 minutes away on a good day. and you still need to walk to the station—maybe the bus is faster—
“that’s a bad word,” yazzy giggles, your brows crease, determined, albeit frazzled as shit. you stand up, senses sharper than they should be as you glance around the apartment like a crazy woman.
“mommy is not here yet?”
she shakes her head, sitting back on the couch, legs swinging as she looks at you standing in front of her.
you swallow thickly, not a single notification from your sister.
“I’ll pick her up in the morning,” you mutter under your breath.
you’re dialing before your lungs fully refill. it rings. rings again. you pace back n forth, glancing around your apartment. “come on, come on,” you mutter. your feet quickly grabbing your bag and shoving your laptop and random notes in, stuffing your keys and id in. you were failing to parent and student at the same time.
yazzy walks over, tugging your shorts. “I’m hungry,” she looks at the kitchen, your eyes folllowing.
fuck it, you quickly grab the box of pastries over the fridge ripping it open and handing her two pastries. “you wanna quickly change?”
you run as fast as you can grabbing some clothes from the suitcase your sister left for her and handing her the clothes to change while you grab socks for yourself, a zip up hoodie and a baseball cap.
“are we going?” yazzy’s confused as she pulls the clean shirt on, her pajamas on the floor.
“yup, mommy’s gonna meet us in front of my school,” you start walking out the door, niece in hand, and bag over your shoulder.
then finally, jennie picks up. music, chatter—of course, she’s at some other event.
“you said morning!” you hiss, whisper-yelling like the walls are judging you, racing down the stairs, “it’s morning so where the hell are you?!” you spit.
“I texted you to tell me when your class was, you didn’t answer,” she says coolly like your entire morning isn’t hell right now.
you can’t breathe, your heart was pumping in your ears, and your blood was on fire.
“I fell asleep,” you spit like it was her fault, which you’re unfairly putting on her, but you could care less. “my exam is at 10, I’m leaving the apartment now—“
“where’s yazzy—“
“she’s with me, I’m not a freaking idiot. so you better be in front of the arts and science building ten minutes before I get there,” you snap.
“okay,” she aggressively snaps back, hanging up on you.
your blood spikes, groan curdling up your throat as you squeeze your nieces hand, holding back a scream.
on the street, the spring heat slaps you again. sweaty toddler beside you, your bed hair hiding under a baseball cap, backpack half-zipped, phone trapped in your hand. you speed-walk like you’re being chased, heart racing, eyes darting. you can’t even tell if people are staring at the college girl dragging a toddler into the bus. but you know you look insane. you feel insane.
yazzy swings your linked hands happily, oblivious, giggling when you jog a little once you arrive at your stop. quickly exiting the bus, you cross the street faster. meanwhile, you’re spiraling — panic, rage, and anxiety.
you can’t think, you check the time on your phone every second a minute passes. yazzy is still blabbing about the movie, humming golden under her breath as you slowly start panicking once it reaches 9:57 and you don’t see jennie anywhere near your building.
you tighten your grip on yazzy’s tiny hand sprinting to the building, whispering a prayer that your sister arrives in the next minute or you might just kill her.
but it’s not until the clock strikes ten, does a slick black car pull up to the curb, your chest is heaving from running and the hot morning sun. while your sister steps out of the backseat, composed as can be.
“mommy!” yazzy smiles, running to her mom the second you take a step towards her.
“hi baby,” jennie easily scoops up the little girl, eyes flicking up to you with guilt as you step back. “thanks, and you didn’t tell me what time last night so you can’t blame me—“
“whatever,” you snap, turning quickly to run into the building, not having a single second to spare as you run up the flight of stairs to your lecture hall.
you’re praying that your professor hasn’t closed the doors yet, and maybe you shouldn’t have, because the moment you step into the lecture, a sheer layer of sweat clinging to your skin, and chest heaving in your pajamas. you’re realizing you’re not ready for this exam at all.
nonetheless, you quickly mutter an apology to your professor, quickly grabbing the first available seat as the exams are being passed throughout the lecture hall.
the quiet shuffles and scribbles of pen on paper fill the lecture hall as the exam commences.
with the morning you’ve had, you have to read each question thrice before you’re able to even attempt at answering the question.
unbeknownst to you, a familiar frat boy is sat three rows back. his pink hair just as unruly as his appearance. however, the second he sees you storming into the lecture hall, along with two other people that were late, he feels completely uneasy.
maybe it’s because there was an empty seat beside him. or that shoko hadn’t greeted him when she took her seat a few rows back, hiding from any TA’s. but seeing you again since the courtyard, left that unfamiliar twist in his gut again. the one that clenched up in concern seeing your flustered state as you came running in.
his mind was internally screaming. forcing every braincell to focus on the exam in front of him. ignoring everything else.
the thudding in your chest doesn’t seize until the last ten minutes are left, and you’re going back to the questions you left blank, quickly scribbling down a guess before standing up and handing your exam to a TA.
the weight of the morning hasn’t fully set in once you step out into the spring heat.
did shoko finish already? in your alert state, you’d completely ignored everything around you, so it’s possible shoko had finished and left or is still in there. either way, your head tilts back, allowing the morning sun to grace your face. the buzzing in your bag suddenly starts again pulling you a frown from your lips.
then you feel a shadow.
your heart skips a beat. your lashes flutter softly, glancing up at the source. and you hate yourself. truly. your stomach twists and churns in confusion, and your throat feels tight and dry at the sight of him.
“what happened to ya?”
there was a softness to his casual tone. his own appearance wasn’t impressive, looking like he’d rolled out of bed too. however, his eyes didn’t look like a damn that was about to burst just from a single touch, like yours. but it did look like he’d melt between your fingers the moment you meet his eyes. he swallows thickly, holding his breath when you glance away, shrugging…then your hand slowly comes up to your face, thankful for your baseball cap now.
“I’m just…” you swallow. “that was hard.”
sukuna hums, fingers cautiously reaching for your wrist. index finger caressing the bracelet around your wrist.
“i guessed on like…all of it,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes to hold back your exhausted tears.
sukuna could feel his heart thudding against his chest. the events and unwelcome fight you’d had last weekend quietly haunts his mind like a silent cloud, unsure if it’ll turn into rain, or get winded away. the bags under his eyes were similar to yours, clearly pulling an all nighter to study for the exam. but the tugging in his chest, wouldn’t stop, even when you brushed a finger in the creases of your eyes.
“how bad do i look?”
he blinks, eyes locked before he looks over, giving you a shrug. “not too bad.” his hand gently tips your cap back to get a look at your face. “you do have some dried drool here,” he lightly taps your cheek, an amused snort leaving his lips.
“seriously?” your hand comes up quickly, face hot as you lick your thumb and rubbing it off. “so embarrassing,” you mutter.
even after the exam, the heaviness that weighs down on your shoulders doesn’t disappear. and sukuna towering in front of you only stirred an unknown feeling inside you that you’re not ready to address. especially when he’s still playing with your bracelet, then your necklace, thumb brushing your collarbone, as he takes a deep breath.
“where’re ya heading now?” he asks, tone gruff, but slightly soft around the edges.
“to shower, then come back and study,” you glance over your shoulder. “don’t know if shoko finished yet—“
“y’still have another exam later?”
you shake your head, “tomorrow morning is my last one.” sukuna quietly nods, gaze still on your chest. “do you have any exams left?”
he nods, “last one is tomorrow too.”
the air quietly shifts, neither of you wanting to address the elephant in the room. his aura is silent, like a resting beast, unsure if you should wake him up or not. your heart picks up at the silence as another beat passes between you, when you hear chatter from a group beside you. your brows scrunch, overhearing a couple sentences.
“is that the captain?”
“I thought he was dating yoro?”
sukuna gaze darkens, the two of you glance at the group of sorority girls, with their similar bright colored outfits. his sharp brows scrunch, the tattoos on his face seem much more intimidating. especially when you feel that ugly twist in your stomach again, along with the prickles of disgust.
your casual step back automatically draws sukuna’s attention back to you. his hand slips from your wrist as you suck in a sharp breath.
sukuna frowns, frustration quickly boiling up like his cup has been steadily rising since the mixer. his temper has never been his best quality. “don’t just—“ he starts, cutting himself short when you start walking away.
sukuna easily follows you, hand brushing your back, before standing in front of you. “just tell me if the deals over.” he stares into you, cornering you. “your fuckin’ choice.”
the sun beats down, heat stinging as sweat trickles down his forehead.
“why am i being put on the spot?” you mutter, embarrassment crawling up your spine as you glance away.
“y’er the one that caught an attitude, ignoring me tellin’ me not to touch you,” he claps back, immediately pushing your buttons as your eyes shoot up to him.
“me?!”
sukuna rolls his crimson eyes, snarl pulling at his lips, “just tell me if ya still want this deal.”
“it sounds like you don’t want it anymore since you think I’m treating you like my boyfriend, which I never ever wanted” you throw his words from the mixer back in his face.
“that’s not what I meant when I said it,” he spits, neither of you addressing your pounding headaches, or the twists in your chests every time the other responds with the same cruelty and lack of empathy.
you shrug sarcastically, “well it’s hard understanding anything since you’re the one that caught the attitude, and just started yelling at people.”
sukuna can hear his brain pounding against his ears. the blood pumping through his strained veins, grip tightening around the strap of his backpack. his eyes narrow, glancing over the flush across your face caused by the heat, the slight rising of your chest, and the gloss that shines across your lips.
“you didn’t answer the fuckin’ question,” he seethes between clenched teeth.
you frown. heart pounding.
do you still want this agreement?
after everything, and the rise in blood pressure he’s been the source of, the added stress from his drama. all of it was just a big. fat. headache.
…but is it bigger than the one you’ve already been nursing. with classes, assignments, medical school, jennie, dad…
was sukuna making it worse…or is he something else?
you swallow thickly, glancing over his features. for a big man, he was radiating exhaustion, like he’d fall over with a small push. the intimidating scowl on his face couldn’t fully mask the uncertainty behind his eyes. something you couldn’t fully read either way, but pray he’s more sure when your lips part, “do you still want it?”
sukuna is a cold man. his walls built up like steel, and reach the sky. you barely see a shift in his expression, if there is any, when you throw his question back.
“seriously?” he grits, low…unsure.
his gaze doesn’t leave you. his eyes quietly track down your figure as his mind rewires. it was difficult to form concrete thoughts about you. his emotions have always been scattered, it was the same reason he avoids relationships. the unpredictability and responsibility it adds, was not something he needed in his life right now.
however, you rarely, if ever, bring that level of stress to him.
you were nosy, but nothing compared to the craziness he’s had the displeasure of being with. you were also gentle when you’re alone, even more gentle when you’re tired. your hands are soft when they touch him, your body is even softer when he’d caress you when he’s deep inside. your stamina is surprisingly impressive, and you can handle him — at least in bed.
the agreement was working.
you were his perfect drug. no responsibility, no guilt. and yet, he’s ignoring the truth in this feeling. the one that physically forms into a twist in his chest.
his tone is stern, “I asked first.”
the perfect outlet was starting to slip through your fingers, but you couldn’t admit it first. not because you didn’t want him at the drop of a hat, but because you couldn’t form a solid opinion on the man. it was a rollercoaster of emotions, and you’re not even sure how to have a conversation about a non-relationship deal—
your thoughts cut, flinching at the loud horn.
sukuna steps back in surprise, arm immediately in front of you, pushing you back with him, away from the crub. a car suddenly pulls up beside you.
“what the fuck—“
the swears are ready to spill from his mouth, cursing off the crazy ass driver and the honking — until you push his arm aside.
“sorry,” you huff, an unfamiliar tone reaching your voice as you quickly walk towards the car, anger stirring behind your eyes. “I have to go.”
sukuna is completely frozen, silently watching you disappear into the SUV, barely catching sight of another woman in the car with you before its speeding away.
“what the fuck?”
sukuna was left completely in the dust, and the worst possible solution to his unaddressed, bubbling anger, is allowing his teammates to drag him out to the bar that same night.
a majority of them have finished their finals, and wanted to finally celebrate the end of the season. they’d invited coach toji, but he declined, something about his son. either way, the division one soccer team packed into the crowded university bar and started a line of shots. a game was playing over the bar, as men and students shout as they drink.
sukuna knocked back the first shot without ceremony, but without resistance either. the liquor scorched a straight line down his throat, a familiar heat he could manage. his teammates hollered around him, already halfway to tipsy after the second round, but sukuna remained unnervingly steady like a rock in a river.
he enjoyed the team like this, uncomplicated, unfiltered, alive. he knew his role without having to explain it.
more of the team poured into the bar, shouting his name from across the bar. sukuna barely juts his chin in acknowledgment, the cold exterior familiar to the soccer players. they knew the type of person their captain was. they’d witnessed him roaring on rainy fields, bleeding for wins, screaming tactics until his voice cracked. they knew the passion burned in their captain. it was the reason he was their captain and not their ace (debatable) gojo, who flaunts his talents almost every match.
speaking of the devil. gojo slides into the booth after his fourth shot, already flushed, already buzzing, and immediately launches into pool-party planning.
“do we seriously have to talk about this now?” The goalie, and also a senior member of the frat, groans.
“yes! it’s tomorrow, and it has to be banger so people will forget that shit I said last weekend!” gojo screeches, pulling at his beautiful snowy locks, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “people,” he hiccups, cheeks flushed, “people have been coming up to me, telling me about my small dick—I don’t have a small dick!”
laughs echo across the table.
“it’s not funny!” gojo snaps.
“like that’s stopped any girls from sleeping with you this week,” geto snorts.
“that’s not the point, it’s about my reputation,” gojo seethes. he then proceeds to dive in full, halfway through the night, assigning tasks to anyone who breathed in his direction. “kegs, ice—someone handle buying the drinks,” he said, waving a hand dramatically, then pointing at sukuna without hesitation. “captain, you’re on beer duty,” gojo assigns with a hiccup.
sukuna exhales through his nose. trying to keep himself neutral, but internally, something twitched. he didn’t mind picking up the liquor. he minded being volunteered without warning. worse, the other members on the team and frat perked up, sensing opportunity, already piling on other drinks onto him like they were offerings to a volcano they didn’t realize was active. this was supposed to be a relaxing night.
geto watched the exchange, swirling the condensation on his glass. he didn’t comment, but he didn’t need to. the tension was already sitting between them like a fourth player at the table—quiet, coiled, inevitable.
sukuna’s gaze drifted upward toward the bar TVs again. A striker missed a penalty on screen, the crowd groaning in collective agony. sukuna felt the moment like a physical blow, fingers tightening around his glass. soccer was the only place his emotions were allowed to be big. everything else had to fit into a smaller container. and you weren’t here to fill the silence between those containers anymore.
that was the real problem.
the argument from earlier kept looping in his head, uninvited. the team celebrated around him, blissfully unaware that his world had narrowed down to one question: did you still want this deal, or was it just him clinging to a distraction that suddenly was biting back?
the bar was loud now. not celebratory loud—chaotic loud. most of the students on campus that finished their exams packed the bar. his team was scattered across tables, sukuna tried to escape gojo’s rambling to the other end of the raised tables, stool screeching the ground only for the president to follow, yapping more as he bought more drinks.
multiple conversations were overlapping. one teammate argued about grades, another about summer tournaments, and gojo, gloriously unbothered by anyone’s internal climate, kept directing traffic like a drunk general who assumed everyone was on the same page.
sukuna’s jaw ticked. a micro-movement. a seismic warning sign the team would’ve noticed on any other day, but they were too drunk, liberated from exams and wanting to celebrate, oblivious to the pressure rising in their captain.
sukuna was growing more irritated by the second, people behind him brushing his back occasionally to get through the crowded bar. his grip tightens around his glass, his forearms flexed. still no outburst yet, but he could feel the air slowly bend around him.
then someone bumped into him. hard.
it wasn’t a brush. not accidental shoulder contact. it was a full-body collision.
the drink in sukuna’s hand lurched outward, sticky liquid splashing across his shirt, jeans, and lap before he could blink. the table shook on impact.
the bar was still in full motion, unaware of the beast they just woke, except for a few teammates who went dead silent.
the liquid soaked into fabric of his clothes. ice cubes skittered off the table.
then he stood up.
the scrape of the stool against the wooden floor was like a gunshot.
and the cord on his temper snapped.
without a second thought, or warning. sukuna lunged at the perpetrator, a completely shitfaced grown man, but sukuna just saw red. his fist connected with a violent crack that made the entire bar collectively flinch.
“woah!” one person yelled, multiple people stepping back causing a few chairs to topple.
“sukuna, chill—” but the sentence never finished. the team surged up, not to join the fight, but to contain the scene. but sukuna was already grabbing the man’s collar, sending another punch straight to his face.
the guy he hit, staggers back into another table. glasses shattering as more people scramble, cursing sukuna out. but a circle formed instantly, the universal draw that a fight brings.
“fuck is your problem?!” the man shouts at sukuna, wiping blood from his lip.
“watch where the fuck you’re going pig,” sukuna bites, chuckling darkly the second the man lunges at him. his core tightens maintaining a little ground before he’s raising his elbow, driving it down onto the man’s shoulder making him cry out in pain. “fucking piece of shit!” sukuna aggressively shoves him off, knee driving into the man’s rib, just in time for geto to grab sukuna
it didn’t fully stop him, but it shifted his balance enough for the rest of the team to wedge themselves between him and the other man crying in pain.
“get the fuck off me!” sukuna tried to shrug geto off, but two other teammates are holding him back alongside the black haired man.
sukuna’s vision is narrowed on the guy who made the mistake of bumping into him when everything thing around him was already picking at his nerves. his temper, way past his control, was now sparking due to his drunken stupidity.
the bar staff rushed in. “out. all of you! NOW!” a bartender barked, pointing at the door like some referee.
sukuna wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, breathing heavier now.
“fucking kick these pricks out, they started it!” the man shouts, pointing at sukuna and his teammates.
sukuna waves his arm in front of him like a mad man reeling for another go. “you’re fuckin’ bitchass is slamming into everyone and can’t fuckin’ take a punch when you’re asking for it!” sukuna barks like a rabid dog.
“dude, you’re gonna get us banned!” yuno tries to cut, but sukuna isn’t hearing it.
“If ya want us kicked out, come kick us out y’rself!” sukuna baits him.
but the bartender is already grabbing the phone dialing the cops. that’s when gojo seems to blink at geto and the other drunk members quickly step in like a team.
“we’re out,” geto and the team shove sukuna further away, dragging him out of the bar before the cops arrived.
the bar door slams behind them.
it was difficult for sukuna to cool down afterwards. the adrenaline of the bar fight pumping his veins alive, chest heaving as they all continued the celebration/planning at the frat. but sukuna was busy drinking, the stinging down his throat numbing his thoughts.
“dude, you wanna be hungover for your exam?” yuno cuts in, watching his captain reach for another beer.
“nothing new,” sukuna mutters, slightly off balance as he stands, heading up stairs. his knuckles were cut from the few punches he’d thrown at the bar, but he could barely feel it with the amount of alcohol in his system.
the events of the week all accumulated to friday.
the end of the year pool party.
everybody off from exams. well in a few hours. sukuna was beyond hungover, pounding headache waking him up in time to review a couple notes before heading to his exam. his eyes silently glance at the black envelope on his desk, the familiar crest sending chills down his spine.
“don’t forget to buy the drinks for tonight!” gojo shouts from the kitchen, pouring a very sugary flavored cereal into a bowl.
sukuna mutters in acknowledgment.
summer was right around the corner, and the quiet anxiety building inside him was a clear sign that something was going to happen.
his mind was in the clouds as he went through the motions of the day. his eyes read each question, memory luckily intact as he answered the open ended questions. his legs carried him to the TA like a robot, eyes cold as he handed his last blue book exam of the year.
even as he stuffed his face with a turkey sandwich, chugged an energy drink before hitting the gym, showered in the locker-rooms like he was scrubbing a layer of skin, all of it felt like he was on autopilot.
and the only thing that managed to snap him back to reality was spotting you across campus hopping on the bus.
he’d just stepped out of the gym, when he saw you. it was another hour until the party. his jaw clenched reaching for his phone as he quickly pulled up your messages, the bus is pulling off the curb as he taps your number.
waiting for you to pick up felt like hell.
but once you did, the weight on his shoulders felt just a pound lighter.
“hello?”
sukuna scratched his jaw, he hadn’t thought about what he was going to say when he called. it was all just a domino affect now. “hey.”
you’re silent for a moment. “you need something?”
he clears his throat, walking towards the liquor store off campus. “was thinking about our convo yesterday…”
you shift on the bus seat, “what about it?” you don’t mean to sound dry, but you can’t help it, not when he’s being so vague.
“can we continue it?”
your throat feels dry, clearing it as you glance out the window, nail picking at your jeans. “you finished your exams?”
“yeah. i’m grabbing drinks for the party righ’ now. can we talk when you get here later—“
“I’m not going to the party.”
sukuna’s face twists, “why? you get free entrance, and free drinks—“
“and free drama?” you quickly retort, inhaling sharply. “yeah, i’ll pass on the end of the year bitch fits.”
“there won’t be any drama,” sukuna grimaces with annoyance, stepping into the liquor store. “everyone is celebrating.”
“have you not been on social media?” you accuse, “i don’t even use insta that much, so it’s weird as hell getting posted on some influencer’s sorority page.”
sukuna’s jaw ticks, “she’s fucking crazy. that shouldn’t be surprising—”
“ryo.”
the warning in your tone just sets the man off. “what? y’er acting like it’s my fault,” sukuna aggressively shoves the drinks into the cart, “I’ve had her blocked for a year—“
“dude, relax, we’re just talking,” you huff on the other line, his aggression quickly dissipating.
he tsks, rolling his eyes, “whatever, I can’t fuckin’ ditch the party so if y’er not gonna come then—“ beep
you hung up.
“what the—“ WHAT THE FUCK?!!!!
everything was red from that point onwards.
his knuckles cracked in pain as he stormed out of the liquor store. blood pumping in his ears when he tossed the drinks into the uber. anger clouding his vision as he stood at the entrance of the frat. and full blown aggression when he’d kick men out of the party for trying to bypass the entrance fee.
but even with him as a rabid guard dog running security at the front, the party was alive in under thirty minutes. music blasting off the walls, lights flashing inside and outside the house, and people already jumping off the roof flipping into the pool. it was five times bigger than the mixer the previous week, almost everyone on campus knew which frat party they were heading too.
it was the perks of being an infamous athletic fraternity, everybody knew who they were— they were either fans of the athletes on the field or court, or wanted to fuck them. or they would rather be at a party with the biggest fraternity and most exclusive house on campus.
either way, half the campus is packed into the house.
gojo was trying not to get drunk, avoiding every single drink that’ll immediately have him flushed and slurring, all so he can clean up his reputation.
“is utahime not coming?” yuno asks, the central midfielder, and non-frat member, glancing at gojo and geto for an answer.
geto shrugs, “shoko ain’t ‘ere either,” he looks over the crowd, spotting sukuna at the front, sharp brows pulled tight as three sorority girls surround him, manicured fingers pointing at him with anger. “ya think that’s why he’s all pissed and not because someone isn’t here?”
gojo and yuno look over at their captain. it was clear the sorority girls are hounding the short-tempered frat boy.
“uh-oh,” gojo steps down. “should we—“
suddenly a loud thud shakes the house. everyone sharply turns at the source, which came from their vp slamming his palm into the doorframe, smoke coming from his ears.
“he’s not—“ yuno quickly runs after gojo and geto as they push through the forming crowd.
“I’m not dating y’r fuckass friend, so none of you are getting in here without paying the fee!” sukuna barks, blocking the kappa phi pearl girls from entering, a line beginning to form behind them.
“so you kiss her and try to ride off her fame then?”
“yall posted that shit not me!“ sukuna snaps, just as his friends reach him. “I don’t need shit from your psycho president—“
“woah ladies!” gojo laughs, stepping between his friend and the girls. “what’s going on here?”
sukuna tsks, glaring at the girls, knowing exactly who sent them here. “sororities are supposed to go in for free, but your dog isn’t letting us in,” one girl huffs.
sukuna’s glare cuts through them, their eyes quickly darting away from his face. gojo laughs, pushing sukuna further into the house, “yes well,” gojo licks his teeth, his own anger bubbling remembering their recap posts. “that’s with the sororities we have good faith with,” he shrugs dramatically, “and well…yours isn’t one of em.”
geto snorts beside his friend, as yuno takes a step away. definitely not wanting to get mixed up in his teammates fraternity drama.
“but our president is dating your vp—“
“for fucks sake,” sukuna shoves gojo, storming out of the party.
the anger of an entire week curdled in his gut like something spoiled and fermenting. even though finals are over, the relief never came. instead rumors are starting to flood across campus and now these parties only seem to be a big headache, especially because it finally marks the end of the semester and now summer looms. which means facing everything he’s been putting off….his step-mom. choso’s attitude. family ghosts. and conversations he’d rather swallow glass than have.
the warmth in the air feels mocking, like the world was laughing at him as he unravels.
the subway ride is torture in motion. every stop gives him another second to think, and every second sharpens the anger instead of dulling it. the kappa phi pearl recap posts flash in his mind, that unbearable smirk of the sorority president pressed against his mouth in pixels, already pushing the rumors around him like poison. like comments he’s been checking everyday just to see more and more people sexualize your fall, as if he isn’t staring and screen-recording the video.
then the black folder that sits in the back of his brain, heavy. something that could crack his life in half and he hates that it exists. hates that it’s something that’s come now, forcing him to decide.
by the time he emerges from the station, the city feels alive. city lights still humming, late-night cars passing, and people walking in and out of restaurants and bars.
he walks fast, face stern, eyes sharp, his hair is damp from the heat, shirt sticking to him, the picture of masculine calm to anyone who doesn’t know better. but he was burning inside.
his phone is already in hand when he turns the corner. there’s no greeting, no softness, just a single text sent to you reading:
I’m five minutes away.
he wasn’t asking a question, or for a request. he was deciding. you were the one thing that worked, the one thing he could crash into, the only place the anger ever went and came back quieter. and now he needs it again.
needs you again.
even if he’d rather twist it around and torture himself than admit what that churning in his chest really means.
he has tunnel vision. he pays no mind to the couple strapping their daughter in the suv outside your building, or the glances they give him as he buzzes your apartment repeatedly, until the door finally clicks, and he’s whisking himself inside, door slamming behind him.
“did that man buzz her apartment?” jennie looks at her husband, brow raised. sami glances back at the door, sukuna’s figure disappearing further into the building.
he shakes his head, “don’t think so.”
jennie frowns, eyes narrowed, “you sure?”
“yes, cmon we have to get to the airport,” sami ushers his wife into the back of the car, “you were talking to her for awhile,” he adds, a bit agitated at the rushing.
jennie shrugs, door closing behind her husband as she looks out the window. “I don’t think she’s coming home for the break now,” she mutters as sami signals the driver to go.
sukuna doesn’t wait for the elevator. he heads up the stairs. six flights between him and the one place he’s already decided he’s going. his lungs burn from the run, his legs ache from the week, but anger is his only fuel. halfway up, he’s practically jumping steps, taking them two, three at a time, hands barely grazing the rail. and by the sixth floor, he shoves the stairwell door open.
your apartment door appears at the end of the hall like a finish line. he doesn’t stop to breathe. or think. knuckles connect with wood rapid and heavy. the hallway is quiet except for the ringing impact in his ears, until your door finally clicks open.
he sucks in sharp breath once you come into sight. and a sight you were. heat crawls up his chest in seconds.
“thanks for the warning,” you sarcastically huff, unaware of the night he’s had, or him yours.
but he doesn’t care, shoving your bratty attitude aside, “can we talk now?”
“you couldn’t have texted me earlier?” your brows pinch, glancing over him. he was completely out of breath, broad chest heaving under his shirt.
“I texted you,” he cuts, not processing his mistakes at all. you swallow a thick lump, allowing him inside, with a sigh. the door shuts behind him. sukuna kicks his shoes off, following you inside as you pick the toys still on the ground. the tv paused on some cartoon. “did you have someone over?” he picks up a princess sippy cup off the counter.
“yeah. they also came uninvited, like you,” you mutter coldly, tossing the sippy cup into the sink. his jaw ticks, eyes tracking down your figure, eyeing your ass as you bend down to pick up a few more toys. your shorts ride up, hugging that ass of yours so deliciously.
“you said you didn’t wanna talk at the party,” sukuna grumbles, glancing away once you stand again.
“true,” you toss the toys into a bin in the closet.
you clear your throat, chest hot as you glance at the big man. his hard exterior was beyond intimidating, especially when you can see he’s clearly wound up. “you go first,” you say kicking the blankets off the couch allowing him to sit. but you sit on the coffee table in front of him, his eyes briefly glancing at your plush thighs as they push against the surface.
“I asked you a question yesterday and you ditched me, then you fucking hang up on me today,” he huffs, arms crossed and thick thighs spreading.
damn he’s so hot, you avert your gaze, “the first one wasn’t my fault, and the second one was because you were getting angry—“
“of course I’m angry, we were talkin—“
“dude, seriously stop yelling!” you huff, sharp breath escaping your lungs in exasperation.
sukuna couldn’t handle any of it. his emotions are raging inside him like a typhoon, and you were right in front of him. “what do you want?” he cuts, coldly, sitting up. “do you want the sex still? because I do. it’s been pissing me off all week that we’re not fucking.” your cheeks flush, heart thudding quicker. “but you’re the one that’s pissed so do you wanna add another condition or cut the whole thing?”
your jaw tightens, glancing between his crimson eyes. “no kissing other people,” you say, taking a breath to clarify. “like you can, I don’t care about that. It’s more the person. I don’t want any drama with your sororities, especially with some influencer and if you still wanna have sex or whatever with them, then yeah, I wanna end it.”
sukuna nods, jaw ticking, “I didn’t ask her to kiss me, by the way.”
“seriously,” your eyes narrow in annoyance. sukuna tsks, sitting on the edge of the couch, coming closer to you. “I don’t care.”
“you do,” he pokes, “just say it. i know you think i kissed her back—“
“because you did,” you snap, standing up in anger, but, his hand clutches your wrist pulling you back down with a cute yelp.
“it was an accident,” he spits like venom, but his jaw ticks, and he continues. “but yeah, no kissing other people—“
“that’s not—“
“so deal is still on?”
your jaw ticks, eyes flicking over his face, blood flowing loudly in your ears, as you glance at his wet lips, the crease between his thick brows, his narrowed eyes, his face so close to yours—
“yes.”
your lips crash onto his.
his surprised hum easily morphs into a hungry growl. his legs push up to stand, hands immediately pulling your shirt off. your hands quickly shove your pants and panties down as he unbuckles his belt unzipping his jeans. he groans as you distract him, hands peeling his shirt off, shoving him back on the couch climbing on top.
you were fully naked, while he was still half dressed. his calloused palms easily gravitating down your waist to grab your ass squeezing. he swallows your moan as you start rocking on his bulge sticking out of his unzipped jeans.
“fuck, you’re so good,” he husks, voice dropping an octave as he grabs your ass, kneading the flesh, before he sinks a finger inside you from behind. “y’er fuckin’ soaked baby,” his laugh is hoarse against your lips, the carnal sound sends shivers down your spine and another wave of hot arousal pools between your legs. “gonna stretch this pussy out?”
“yeaah,” you moan, the soft sound he’s been yearning to hear for days. “need you so bad, ryo,” you coo into his lips, panting softly as you kiss him. your mind slowly begins to quiet. your only thoughts are of him. his lips, his hands, his touch, his voice—
shit. his jaw slacks, hips bucking as his mouth opens wider for you, tongues messy as they collide.
your vision grows hazy in seconds. choking on whines as he pumps two fingers into your sopping cunt, unbothered by the wetness that stains his pants as you tremble above him. your nails rake through his pink locks, the other flat on his chest panting into his mouth.
“need me so bad?” he repeats, tongue hanging out as you start lapping it like a needy touch-starved puppy. you’re perfect. he curls his fingers inside you, pressing against your gummy walls, arm keeping you firmly against his chest as you arch into him. the aggressive pump of his fingers earns a pitched whimper from your pretty lips. “you’re fallin’ apart and we just got started, ya shouldve texted me first,” there’s a slight clip in his tone, one that has you grabbing his jaw aggressively.
your lips hover over his, brows pressed tight, all the while he’s got his middle and ring finger shoved up your pussy, stretching you open. your quiet aggression pours onto your tongue, “i didn’t wanna kiss you after that bitch shoved her tongue down your throat.” your fingers squeeze his sharp jaw, manicured nails digging into his skin leaving crescent marks. “didn’t want her sloppy seconds.”
his eyes are lidded, pupils dilating as he looks between your heated orbs. you were fully unclothed and completely vulnerable on top of him, and his cock is twitching violently at your attitude. especially one that so easily gets under his skin in the most allusive way imaginable.
“what’re you doin’ now then?” sukuna bounces his thighs making you jump on his lap, tits bouncing at the movement. “lickin’ up her sloppy seconds?”
your spit collects in your mouth as you lean further up. your manicured thumb gently caressing his bitten lips, tugging the bottom lip down. his jaw slacks with ease, a glint in his eyes as he watches you closely.
“I’m cleaning you.”
was all you say then a glob of spit falls directly into his mouth.
fhhuuck…..a throaty groan escapes the man’s chest, fingers sliding out of your pussy. grabbing your ass as he feels your spit slide down his tongue. his hips buck up violently, throat bopping as he swallows.
“more,” he rasps.
your lips curl, smashing your lips again. this time he lets you take control, lets your tongue invade his mouth, lets you rinse him of whatever residue you imagined that bitch left on him.
you were the best drug. some anomaly on his lap, bare skin warm against his, and sukuna is unraveling with a hunger that feels humiliating in how total it is. his hands are everywhere at once, your waist, your spine, the back of your neck. chest hot with how you’re consuming him. he’s gripping you like he’s memorizing your touch again, like you might evaporate if he doesn’t keep contact. his kisses meet yours with just as much fever, teeth grazing your lip just enough to make you inhale sharply against his mouth. the sound goes straight to his cock, bucking up as you hump him quicker, syrupy pussy soaking his boxers through his open fly.
you’re addictive, and now he can’t put you down.
your scent should be calming, but it just felt intoxicating in its gentleness and warmth. he buries his face in the curve of your shoulder for half a second, breathing you in like he’s stealing air as you catch your breath. “you smell so good,” he leaves open mouthed kisses along your neck, dragging his mouth back to yours.
every wet, hungry kiss leaves him more gone than the last, more irritated at himself for the lack of resistance. even when he’s losing it, you’re sitting there completely naked on him like you know exactly what you’re doing.
but you don’t.
the worst part is, you feel the same way.
you hate how easily you fit against him. how right he feels. how little effort it takes for you to want more of him, not realizing how little resistance he’s giving you in return.
the week has shredded both your nerves, but right now none of that exists. not finals, step-moms, futures, grudges, or pride. there’s only your mouth on his. your body pressed into him like a solution he doesn’t deserve, and his restraint finally snapping.
“haah fhuck, keep rocking y’er hips,” he husks kissing you harder, deeper, like he’s drowning and you’re the tide. his palm slides down your spine to hold you flush against him. perky tits pressing into his firm pecs, hips rolling harder up as you hump his bulge, whimper slipping out.
there was no softness from him, no sweetness, just pure masculine desperation. consumption that says more than any confession ever could, and your body was speaking the same language.
your hands drag up and down his arms, hands squeezing his bulging biceps, threading through his hair tugging, until you’re panting erratically, lips parting in an silent moan as you unravel softly from the aggressive humping. sukuna hums in satisfaction, lip curling into a devilish smirk as he cracks a hard spank on your ass as you desperately grind on the wet spot you left until you’re shivering.
you pant directly into his lips, like you’d just run a hundred meters. but really it was just him.
“ryo,” you call, lashes fluttering against your flushed cheeks meeting his eyes.
his arms squeeze your torso, palm splayed on your back and ass, lips hovering over yours, gently kissing the corner of your mouth, “hmm?”
“I really…” your words are breathless, like it takes so much willpower to speak, “really,” you lean up, hand rubbing his shoulder, and neck, “wanna fuck you righ’ now.”
sukuna’s cock shots a small pathetic amount of cum into his boxers. “you—“ he chokes, lips back on yours to mask the humiliating moan that escapes his throat.
you whine, climbing off his lap, just for him to instinctively reach for you as you stand between his legs. his hands grabbing your hips leaning on the edge of the couch, to keep you close, hands grabbing your ass, lips connecting to your lower stomach, kissing up your belly button, licking your skin.
your nails tangle in his hair before you’re pulling his arm from around you, lightly tugging him to stand.
the silence in the apartment would be deafening if neither of your hearts were beating erratically. but he couldn’t help how worked up he was getting when you’re leading him to your bedroom. your hips swaying naturally as you hold his wrist, walking across the apartment completely naked. his eyes rack down every dip and curve. his hand falling to grab his crotch, hand cupping himself through the open fly, squeezing some relief behind your back.
by the time you enter the bedroom, beaded curtains clanking behind you, his lips are back to attacking yours. his thumbs easily hook under his boxers and pants, pushing them down kicking it aside, heavy cock bopping into view. your fingers brush the painfully hard girth, tip flushed a hot red, veins protruding on every inch, and globs pushing out of his slit as he grabs your face, deepening the kiss.
“do i needa prep ya some more?” he husks against your lips, kneeling onto the bed and crawling between your legs. you shake your head, arms locked around his neck pulling him down, hips bucking up and back arching.
“no s’ fine, jus’ want it inside me,” you mutter against his lips, humming as he reaches for the box of condoms, quickly tearing one open.
“whatever ya say, babe,” he doesn’t even look as he rolls the condom on, your arms already grabbing the roots of his hair dragging his lips back down to yours. you couldn’t last a second without his tongue on yours, like every kiss was brining a part of your soul back.
neither of you have fully recovered from the week you’ve had. instead, you’re drowning your shortcomings in sukuna’s body, and his yours.
his cock nudges your entrance, catching your clit before teasing your clenching hole. your lips part as a pitched moan escapes.
“y’er gonna let me in?” he teases, chest heating at the sight of your blown eyes meeting his. “gotta loosen up down there.”
“It is,” you huff, nails scratching his overgrown undercut, “put it in.”
he smirks, pushing his hips down, slipping inside with a stretch. you hum at the first inch filled, and when he’s grinding the rest of his impressive size into your small hole, you’re back to your pathetically hot gasps and moans.
sukuna was a selfish man. of course, he’s good in bed because he satisfies his partners, but he knows exactly when to break them in, using the little strength they have to his full advantage. but it was never as fulfilling as it is when he’s with you.
you’re already in tears, arched back on your hands and knees, your arms stretched out in front of you as he thrusts into you from behind like a wild animal. grunts and swears spewing from his mouth, hand cracking down on your ass like a punishment, spanking each cheek until you’re moaning at the after burn.
“fuckin’ slut, clenching up every time I spank this ass,” he chuckles hoarsely. “everyone lookin’ at that video of you,” he seethes, remembering your soaked shirt with over a thousand likes from the sororities instagram. yes, he was checking the count every day. “flashing these slutty tits to everyone—“ his hand reaches under to grab your breast, cruel fingers pinching your nipples.
you cry out, slamming your hips back into his, hand falling over his on your breast. “i was wearing a bra—ngh ah!” your lips part with another broken moan.
his bulbous tip drags out, before he’s slamming back into, hitting your cervix.
“those comments were fuckin’ disgustin,— pigs haah jerkin off to you—“ he seethes, pushing your lower back into the mattress, hands grabbing at your hips as he picks up the pace.
“mmph—ryo— keep ngh—wanna cu—uh-cum!” you were babbling like a dumb little slut. your brain was mush by the time he’s pressing you into a deeper arch.
“there we go, baby, ya’ missed me handling your little body like this? hmm—fuckin’ ya how i want ngh—better than any of those sh-shit-heads,” he groans, thrusts brutal, carnal grin and glint in his eyes, slamming in knowing you feel every inch, every vein, every pulse.
“y-you missed me, ryo,” you babble, lips covered in drool as you turn your head on the mattress, vision blurry with tears.
fuck you were mess, sukuna cracks a viscous smile, cheeks hot and red from the sight.
“I’m so haah good,” you praise yourself, something that elects a physical reaction from the man as he feels his cock twitch violently inside your clamping hole. “my pussy can h-handle a-all of ryo—ahh!” you cry out as he shoves his entire weight behind one thrust without warning again.
“fuck—you talk too much,” he growls, fucking you fast and hard, just the way you like, his hand covers yours, interlacing it on the mattress, using it as balance. “ya think this pussy can handle me all night?”
“mhmm,” your eyes roll back after another mind numbing thrust, your body shivering as you clench up, creaming around him for the third time that night.
“let’s see about that,” he snorts, already flipping you into another position, taking full advantage of your pliant body and dumb bratty attitude.
you’re in tears by the fifth round, he’d only came twice, condoms tied and tossed on the ground, his face now buried between your legs as you cry out. your hips arch up, lifting off the mattress as you tug his hair, eyes clenching closed as you let out hiccuped moans.
sukuna groans into your pussy, tongue shoved deep into your pussy, swallowing your sweet syrup straight from the source. your arousal bursts on his tastebuds, his hand locking under your hips keeping you arched high as he eats you out like a starved man.
“ryo—haah please— too much!” you’re gasping as he sucks your clit, tongue circling the puffed bud like you aren’t on the brink of passing out.
“thought you said y’can handle this?” he snorts, spitting on your pussy aggressively, hand replacing his mouth with vicious rubs to your clit. you whine loud and hot, hand stretching out to his wrist, but he’s moving quicker than you can process. his condom covered cock is piercing your pussy again, the stretch lethal as your moan pierces the walls of your bedroom. “there we go! haah ah fuck! even tighter than before,” he groans, quick, sharp thrusts hitting your sweet spot. your vision blurs with tears as he pulls out again, mouth shoved back to your pussy, drinking you up. he was filthy….possessed.
“ryo!” you’re sobbing, choked hiccups making his cock throb, shoving his girth back into your pussy. his hips erratically forcing you into another orgasm as your hips raise off the bed. your arm stretches out to him, weakly pushing at his pelvis, while the other grips the sheets beside your head.
“c’mon, gotta let me cum too, brat— pussy still wants more,” he groans, the squelching has grown much more lewd, filling his ears as his thumb falls on your clit.
“I can’t—I can’t—“ tears fill your eyes as your legs start to shake, gasping as he leans down capturing your lips, subtly trying to distract you from the overstimulation, mind guessing when you’ll tap out, begging internally you won’t.
“s’ okay, I got ya baby, fhuck—“ he groans, kisses messy, tongues and teeth clashing as he pulls away. his large palms push your thighs further apart, abs tensing as he drives his cock deeper.
tears cling to your lashes as your hand extends out again, strength weak as you try to push him away. however his hand only pushes your hand down, biting his lip as you scratch his sweaty happy trail, his thumb easily falling on your clit, rubbing tight circles again.
“haah ah—“
his thrusts are so deep the squelching more obscene. “shiit—this pussy is loud as fuck,” he smiles devilishly, face flushed.
you were impressed how well you keep up with sukuna, truly. but i guess there has to be a moment where his athletic capabilities will exceed your own libido, like tonight.
his forehead and chest are covered in a sheer layer of sweat, accentuating the tattoos that mark his skin like sin. his god-like defined abs flex, biceps bulging as he keeps your legs spread for him like some toy, thumb still working your clit like second nature, unbothered by how overstimulated you’re getting. he keeps his ears peeled for the safe word which hasn’t left your lips yet.
your sopping hole sloshes and squelches, embarrassing sounds leaving it with every thrust.
“y’ want the neighbors to hear this pussy don’t ya?” he snorts, thrust sharp. “want em hearing their neighbor getting fucked hard by sum’ guy, right?” his thrusts grow erratic, talking himself into his nearing climax, groaning deep when you cry out, hips raising off the bed trying to squirm away, nails scratching his pelvis. “answer me,” he bites, thick thighs spreading, thrusting up.
you’ve lost practically all words, shaking your head with tears watering your eyes, lips glossy and looking absolutely dumb on cock.
“liar.”
at this point, he’s lost all sanity, chasing his relief as you try to push him away, whining and moaning his name like it’s the only word blasting your mind. chanting a spew of babbled curses as your legs start to shake uncontrollably.
“r-ryo—i—“ your lips part, eyes fluttering as tears slide down the corners.
“m’ fuckin close—ngh—you’re getting so tight righ’ now—fuck, gettin’ so wet you’re sucking me in,” sukuna never realizes how much he talks in bed especially when he’s nearing an orgasm, because he’s always fucked the other person into oblivion.
“b-but this is—haah—“ your incoherent response was the only warning he gets until he’s feeling a gush splash his abdomen. your cry pitches higher as another wave of squirt pulses out of your pussy.
“shiit,” sukuna hisses, pupils are black, hips stilling for a second as he processes what just drenched his abs and pecs. “squirting?” he groans moving inside you, keeping himself lodged inside, even while you’re practically crying arms weak as he pushes his thumb over your overstimulated clit. “didn’t know this fuckin’ pussy can squirt. that’s a new one,” he swears, keeping his thumb on you, rubbing quicker, in pace with his thrusts, getting you to squirm even more, foot managing to press to his pec.
“ryo!”
he growls, pushing your legs back around his torso, and pinning your wrists to the mattress. he’s leaning over you, keeping your legs trapped around his large body, driving his veiny girth into your sopping pussy. he groans into your nape, sharp teeth sinking into the flesh of your neck, marking the soft skin. his hips roll into yours, grinding against your sweet spot, coarse pubes rubbing against your clit.
“p-pleasee!” you gasp, choked squeak escaping your throat and ultimately pushing the selfish man over the edge. the cord snaps just as you squirt again, pushing him out.
“fuck—don’t push me out—“ he groans, peeling the condom off, rubbing his cock head through your gushing hole just as he shoots ropes of hot thick cum all over your pussy and tummy, painting you in his white load.
that was the chance you needed to close your legs, trapping his cock between them, completely out of breath as you gasp.
sukuna groans, head tilting back, throat bopping as he holds your knee, feeling you squeeze his sensitive cock between your plush thighs. he can’t stop himself from bucking into the soft flesh, groaning once more as another load shoots out of his tip, reaching your tits and abdomen.
you whine, hand reaching down touching the cum lazily, legs parting just for him to attack your lips again.
“could y’ always squirt, or was that a first for ya?” he husks against your lips, hands on your hips, clutching you tightly, wanting to go back inside you reaching for a condom—
“ryo, i can’t—“ you exhale, shaking your head, heaving breathlessly. “give me a second, please.”
he stills, mind slowly recalibrating.
“yeah,” he nods, kissing your lips again as he moves beside you, his cock half-hard as he spreads his cum all over your belly, marking his territory. he’s kissing your neck and shoulder as you catch your breath, legs still shaking.
even with your head in cloud nine, and sukuna beside. it was all confusing. his scent filled your head, warmth spreading to you. your body carefully turns to him, arm moving across his shoulders to hug him, lips finding his.
don’t think about it.
everything with him is physical. even with your body telling you it was enough, even with your mind trying to push real thoughts to the forefront of your head, you still lick his bottom lip, slower and lazier than before. “you’re still hard after that?” you say softly.
his hand squeezes your ass, “first time ya squirted one me, course m’ gonna be hard as shit,” his tongue finds yours, humming as you carefully sit up.
you sigh, leg moving across his lap, “i told you…” you lick your lip, “i can take you…and you stupid cock….one more round.”
sukuna’s grin widens, sharp teeth on display as his arm stretches over, “slide on top, princess,” he nudges your hip, as the other hand grabs a condom, tearing it open by the time you’re straddling his lap, lips finding his again.
he lazily kisses you back, tongues caressing as he slides the condom on. he easily slips himself into your hole with a drawn moan. “theeere we go,” he coos, thrusts starting slow, humming against your lips. he slowly and surely builds up his pace, beefy arms holding your ass up. you whine against his lips, squeaking when he has his feet planted flat on the mattress, now using your gushing hole like his personal pocket pussy.
sukuna couldn’t function anymore.
your moans directly flow from your lips to his ear, face buried in his neck as he abuses your limp body feeling you unravel again. his mind completely getting consumed by you, shoving any other thought or uncomfortable twist in his gut, deep deep down.
and as sukuna bathes in the bliss of being in your bed for the first night in days, he was also blissfully unaware of what was unfolding miles away with his fifteen year-old brother.
“are you sure about this, man? didn’t you say your brother didn’t want you talking to her?” ino says, turning in the passenger seat to look at choso in the backseat fixing his hair in the front mirror.
his other friend, mechamaru who’s a few months older and has his license, also glances at his friend from the drivers seat. “yeah—like you can’t tell your brother that we drove you here, o-or mr. toji, so you can’t tell yuuji, he can never keep a secret—“
“i’m not tellin’ em shit,” choso huffs, swallowing the lump in his throat as he glances at the lit diner. “jus’ wait for me here, ‘kay?” mechamaru and ino exchange looks, irritating the boy, a scowl pulling at his lips, “what?”
“well,” mechamura starts, turning to face choso, “you don’t want us going in with you? like we can sit at another table, make sure nothing happens, keep an eye on things.”
ino nods, “for sure for sure— like you don’t know her, like what if…”
“what if what?” choso frowns at his friends, clicking the backdoor open. “she’s just a lady, I’ll be fine.”
mechamura and ino nod, biting back anymore concerned words towards their friend and his decision to do this. choso fixes his backpack on his shoulder, hands shoved in his pockets as he quickly walks up the sidewalk. he can hear his heart pounding against his chest, hands clammy as he grasps the diner’s handle, swinging the door open.
the bell rings overhead.
only a few customers sat around. it was getting late, so there was only one waiter working the tables. choso steps further in, glancing over the booths. his amber eyes scan each table, biting his cheek when he turns to check the other side of the diner— suddenly a woman stands beside a booth.
choso’s breath catches.
her short black hair was the same color as his.
her eyes the same as his.
the shape of her face too…
choso swallows again, glancing over the woman, taking her in for the first time in years. it wasn’t a picture, or video….he barely remembers her, did she look better then or now…he can’t remember.
“choso, honey. come have a seat,” her voice though….that sounded different.
choso quietly walks up to his mom, kaori.
a/n: holy hell— that took an eternity. there was a bunch of plot in this one, so thank u guys for reading through it!! I know u guys had so many guesses on what was going to happen after sukuna and yorozu’s kiss, I def went in a more logical direction since this is a series instead of a one shot, so I feel it’s better to be grounded in reality for more hurt and angst in the future — esp since neither of them take full accountability of their actions & reactions, it’ll cause more issues when their putting bandaids over open wounds, inevitably making them more prone to infections. i hope u guys who wanted reader to kiss gojo/geto/toji/nanami understand tho LOLLL.
anyways, no promises on quicker updates, my job schedule is super random and pretty much changes every week so I don’t have a fixed schedule. but thank u again for sticking w the series and sending ur thoughts/critiques/guesses to me, I love love loveeee hearing how much u guys r thinking ab the series bc sameeee !!
