poopiewoop

she/her ¡19! in love with love <3

[coconutdays]

JEALOUS TYPE!

s. since when does your university have hot guys and why the fuck is the one you want in a frat

w.c. 25.4k yeah i did my big one on this one ive been ovulating over him bad

w. fem! reader, frat!sukuna! x reader , strangers to lovers! fluff!, smut! minimimal miminal angst like one percent! jealous!sukuna! roughhhhhh sex! lots of sexual encounters that lead up to the big thing!

a/n: this was deadass to fuel a horny fantasy of mine efawefsfdfs but im sharing it with you guys, i tried to proofread but have uni stuff so ill try to fix as day goes on and whatnot, hope u guys like bc i havent written in a while, i will probably go in and make edits once i get the time lol, so bear with me if its not up to par

for a college student, you're not too familiar with the social culture on campus--too focused on your goals and bearing too much disdain for the childish behavior everyone seems to surprise you with all the time because you would have thought by now that everyone grew up out of their high school antics. everyone is also ugly.

by everyone, you mean the guys. you've never come across someone with even a small semblance to your type, lacking in either looks or personality. honestly, you're just waiting to finish uni and see if there's boyfriend material at a work event or something, maybe they'll be mature by then.

you have friends of course though, hang out with them, study with them, go clubbing with them, etc--but its not as often as they would like considering you're not looking for a boyfriend and when you do study or hang out with them, your attention doesn't wander to a cute guy looking at you from the table 5 feet away and you don't get too friendly with people that aren't your friends, even if they know yours or are classmates of them.

and sometimes, you don't speak too much when those other people come over to whatever table you and your friends are at on campus, but this time, for some unbeknownst reason, you feel the need to unmask your presence.

"hold on, you guys are planning on going to a frat party?"

your brows are furrowed and there's a confused look of concern and disgust on your face. the people who don't really know you tilt their heads slightly at your reaction, meanwhile your friends shake their heads and roll their eyes in slight amusement, knowing that you would of course say something like that.

"its literally just a bunch of stds and weird cult shit for freshmen." you comment further, face still twisted in disapproval.

your friend giggles your name, amused exasperation woven into her tone when she smiles, "yeah but we've been telling you since forever that kaisen kapta doesn't throw parties like that."

you're caught off guard for a second before you're about to respond-

"and you always stay in to study or finish something whenever we do go to their parties."

"but-"

"i don't know how either, but it genuinely has happened every time we go. i don't know why you're just less busy on the weekends we go to the club."

you give a knowing look to your friend while you drown the sheepish smile crawling onto your face with a tight lipped one because of her ability to have just predicted your every thought just now.

"people still do stuff there though," another friend of yours laughs, "but its less raunchy. the guys at kaisen kapta are actually clean, the place isn't nasty. so they fuckkkk but they stay wrapped and actually wash their asses."

"satoru gojo also makes sure there's tons of alcohol." one of your friend's classmates interjects, earnestly nodding up and down, "i hear he buys out actual shipments from the suppliers instead of going to the store."

your lips pucker and you look at the classmate with a wide eyed side eye

"oh now you want to go."

"hey we may not pay for drinks at the club, but I still feel weird sometimes drinking my margarita while some fuckboy i led on watches and waits for me to notice him."

"okay yeah that's true-"

"hello there pretty ladies."

your attention--and everyone else's--drifts to satoru gojo, you can only assume by the white hair and glasses. you don't know anything about campus culture, but he's the exception, even a rock has to know who he is. and you know what, yeah you can see the hype, he's very handsome, not your type because he looks like a ragebaiting pain in the ass with that crooked smile, but cute nonetheless. he has a couple of paper slips in his hand, pushing one onto the table, making sure its in the middle for all of you to be able to access, it has a qr code.

"we just wanted to let you wonderful specimens know that we're having our back to school welcoming party at kaisen kapta this friday."

there's another cute guy behind him, he's very pretty, you note, graceful features lining his face, long black hair tied up in a half bun, and a not so sleeper but somehow slumbering sleeper build packed under the white tee he's wearing.

and oh

that's crazy. you're not even moving, you're sitting, yet you feel so out of breath. you're genuinely so taken aback with yourself. is it the fact that he looks the way he looks and he's frat boy or is it just because of the way he looks?

he's more perfect than perfect.

the third guy is taller than satoru and the guy with the long hair, way more muscular than both of them too. his face is so solemnly and morbidly handsome, it makes him look ruggedly older than his pretty friends when you think he's more than likely the same age as you since satoru gojo was known to be in his senior year as well. how is he even making an undercut with pink hair hot? he has tattoos too. where in the fuck does a frat guy have hot tattoos like these that actually work for him instead of receding hair line lobster burnt kyle with 999 on his forearm.

you have to contain the starstruck feeling overwhelming you because fuck how does someone like this exist, are you dreaming right now?

"and for planning services we'd love it if you guys used the rsvp on the qr code there." satoru smoothly interjects, completely aware and comfortable, even basking, in the fact that the girls with you are oogling over him. his voice had cut a bit through your daze, it had barely three seconds, yet it felt like you had been checking out the scarily hot guy next to gojo for a millenia.

"it also has our address in case you miss the manor."

and his voice sounds like that. okay great where has this been the entire fucking time you've been at this stupid university? the possible figment of your imagination juts his chin slightly towards the paper when he adds that comment. he doesn't look mad or happy, not even bored or serious, well yeah actually he's serious but its not a complete dickhead thing, more so just inherently private about his energy, he honestly kinda reminds you of-

you don't know anything, really you don't know anything. all you know is you share a split second of eye contact with him and its fleeting. but fleeting isnt a sufficient word to describe how you felt as if someone had ran a knife up your spine the moment his pupils touched your own.

unbeknownst to you, two of your friends share a quick knowing glance at each other. yet you're too focused on seeming normal and nonchalant, as if the very image of hercules wasnt just casually standing in front of you, you don't read or catch anything worthy of analysis from the handsome guy--if there even was anything to observe. you're quite confident and don't think he's out of your league, thirsty guys of his build have tried to ask for your number at the club, but he's absolutely perfect and mind blowingly attractive. you feel like fucking jacob when he imprinted on nessie, his mere existence and his existence right fucking now near you has completely caught you off guard. fuck you're too freaked out right now to be that secure and think "i've got this in the bag". you just can't think. period.

satoru shrugs his shoulders in an obviously pretend nonchalant way when he adds, "anddddddd there's an optional answer box for you guys to maybe add your instagram handles too~"

your newfound crush's face contorts into a small disapproving scowl, slightly elbowing the unabashed playboy, a tch making the right side of his face twitch ever so slightly, his sharp canine making a quick appearance the cherry on top, "thought i told not to add that shit fuck face." he bites at him in annoyance

"owowow kuna that hurt!" gojo whines, twisting around to rub his side, shirt lifting just a bit as he does, revealing what seems to be a vline and abs. yeah like that hurt when he's got those to protect him lol.

but now you know his name is kuna, its a bit shorter than you expected, well frankly you didnt know what to expect, but it somehow did feel a bit mismatched.

the calmer of the three, it seems now at least, moves to the front and starts to some how clean up after them, hands splayed out while he says, "we'd really love if you guys came, please invite your friends and ask them to use the qr code if possible." he tries to block what looks like kuna and satoru bickering, side eyeing them when he rushes the rest of what he has to say so peacefully. "and keep this between us but a select few of us are going to pregame at around eight pm before people start arriving, so do feel welcome to come earlier."

then hes ushering his friends away, shoving them both a bit to get them back to their senses and saying what you can only imagine to be chastising words. but its not like you care to hear what he's saying when you're only focused on taking in kuna's overwhelmingly large and ripped back being suffocated by the fitted black shirt he has on while he walks away with his friends to another table to promote the party.

a casual call of your name draws you out of your trance. one of your friends has her phone out, already scanning the qr code while she innocently asks, "do you wanna go too?"

its uncharacteristically calm and casual, the way you softly nod and pick up your phone to scan the paper let behind, paying no mind to the conversation surrounding what just happened and seemingly having no sarcastic or snarky comment to make like you always do when it comes to things of this nature, "yeah"

you're glad your friends remembered the last words of the calm pretty guy later that friday. truth be told, you hadn't said anything about your crush, if you could even call your attraction for him that, his beauty is so astonishing that you can't even giggle about it to yourself. but you really wanted to go to the pregame and see him again without bringing it up yourself so as to not bring any suspicion.

"how does this look?" you give a quick 360 of your outfit to your friends. it's one of your most "casual" dresses, considering its tight and red, but its short. you wanted to look pretty, but not dress out of place with one of your more attention seeking club dresses. the back also swoops down a little, almost almost making the dress seem backless somewhat.

you give yourself a once over through the mirror across the room when you finish turning, unable to catch the way your friends slightly raise their eyebrows in a knowing and excited glance between each other.

"really really pretty." "mhmmmmm" "id get you pregnant"

"okay, thank you," you smile softly, moving to your spot in front of the mirror to finish doing your hair.

then like a stupid fucking loser, you're sitting on a couch with your friends among other random people invited to this pregame, and the frat brothers--all except the one you fucking came here for. masking your irritation, you drink from the tequila/grapefruit soda combo in your cup, hearing the commotion between everybody chatting, but not really listening.

"you were in my marketing class right?"

the guy with the manbun is looking at you now, earnestly waiting for your answer. but fuck you, you really can't recall seeing him.

"uh-" you open your mouth to respond, but fail to know what to say out of shame that you really can't recall him. sheepishly, you avert your gaze a little and say, "im really sorry, i don't." adding quickly to help your case you say, "i don't pay attention too much to other people in my classes, its just a me thing."

he softly smiles, eyes creasing a bit when he nods, "it's not a problem, my friend is like that as well." he speaks again shortly after, "was your final project presentation about upcycling services for heritage brands to keep ethical consumer attention?"

the fact that he remembers so well catches you off guard, your brows knitting a little

"yeah actually, okay wow we did have class together." you say in wide-eyed surprise, moving your cup to clink his in approval

"hey suguru!" a roudy noise calls from the back patio, looking at the guy you were just talking to. its satoru, poking his head out the glass door so he's heard better, "can you bring me some bottles of titos!"

suguru nods, saying a firm 'yeah' back and raising his cup in acknowledgement. he then looks at you before getting up and says, "satoru was also in our class but he never went, saved yourself the stress of him existing in your memory."

naturally you laugh...but then the whole owala of water you drank before coming over and the largeeeeee serving of tequila and grapefruit soda you already drank suddenly swell in your bladder. quickly, you get up, mildly catching suguru by surprise, but it fades when you say, "hey can i use the restroom?"

having leaned down just a little to hear you, suguru nods then further enters your space to look at the house from your perspective, hand gravitating over the small of your back as his other hand points to the side, "go all the way down that hallway angel." oh?

you may be severely into his friend (who isn't fucking here yet by the way), but you know suguru is annoyingly hot, you're not an idiot. and you don't know if he called you angel on purpose, but it did a little something to you. and you pretend to be unphased as you listen to him continue

"at the end, the garage is right there, the door to it is open already. the door next to the garage is the restroom."

had his face already been next to yours? he looks at you softly, but his eyes make you feel pinned as he waits for you to confirm that you understood his directions. nonetheless, you nod in understanding and pull a little smile, "thank you suguru."

"no problem." he straightens up, eyes glinting with something you're too unfocused on to identify when he sports the casual grin he always has on his face

when he turns to go to the kitchen, you put your now empty cup on the floor and head over to the opposite direction to go to the restroom. the hallway is dimly lit, the light from upstairs staircase in the middle of it being the only reason you can see a bit down the end of it.

their place is cold, you forgot to bring a jacket, still dubious whether the place would be murky and sweaty. but as you were told, these guys are actually clean, the ac was cranked all the way down to what felt like the north pole and the place wasn't messy. relieved to see the garage door open with the restroom door next to it like suguru instructed, you continue walking to grab the handle when your eyes flicker quickly to the garage. you're overcome with bewilderment at how large it is. theres only one white light shining over it and you can make out how huge it fucking is. there's gym equipment stacked in it, enough for them to run their own and have people pay for memberships and the other side has a few cars.

closing the door behind you and beginning to pull your panties down to pee, you roll your eyes at yourself when a realization dawns over you. you forgot you go into this university on a much needed full ride scholarship. much needed due to how expensive the school was considering the fact that its the most prestigious university in the country and top 5 in the world. hell you forgot satoru is so well known because his family basically runs at least half of the world's sweets production along with other branch companies like your favorite iced tea and lemonade fusion drink. yeah no wonder they're stacked like this. your friends are so down to earth that you forget they're rich as well, no wonder the garage gave you culture shock.

when you're done, looking at yourself in the mirror while you wash your hands, you allow yourself to graze the fingertips of your mind across the thought that if kuna was in kaisen kapta, in the top university in the country, he had to be stacked as well.

ignoring the fact that you were pondering over that, you took a step back to look in the mirror and tug your dress into place, making sure it was where it needed to be, fixing your boobs to pop out more, running your hands through your hair to make sure it looked good.

"okayokayokay" you breathed to yourself, nodding in approval as you opened the door to the restroom

every hair on your body stands

kuna's eyes widen a little, angry brows furrowed while he towers over you. it looks like he was just coming from the garage. he's wearing a red shirt and some dark washed jeans. how did you not notice last time that he had black studs in his ears?!

"you good?" he asks, quirking a brow up and you're scared he thinks its because you're weird, that is until you notice him peering into the slightly ajar door of the restroom, concerned brows furrowing together while his eyes dart for any sign of someone else.

"yes-sorry" you exhale quickly, shaking your head back to reality, "you just caught me off guard is all."

you hadn't noticed that his body had been tensed and hunched over your space slightly until he straightened up, visibly relaxed at your clarification as the corner of his lip rose. and he's visibly way more relaxed as his eyes drag across your face and figure. honestly its the first time you've not felt creeped out by a guy doing that. you're not sure if its because you're into him or because he doesn't seem creepy.

"suguru already hit on you?" he snarks and immediately your eyes widen and you can't even form a thought, much less a sentence to respond to-

"he has a thing for inexperienced girls," he smiles, its annoying that its still devilishly handsome when the words coming out of his mouth slap you into reacting to the absolute douchebag thing he just said

"excuse me?" you squint at him

"you're acting like you've never been closer than 50 feet away from a guy," he leers, tilting his head teasingly at you, enjoying the scrunch in your nose and subconsciously scrunching his own for a nano second as a reflexive response. your is mouth so minimally agape at the gall of him and annoyed that the guy you're attracted to thinks you're nervous because he's a guy. you start to sputter out, "you are so-"

his canines unsheathe as he crosses his arms to smile down at you. its maddening how he makes your heart beat rapidly in frustration and annoyance. and never in your life did you think you would say the most ugly and forbidden pick me girl sentence to such a hunk of a guy, but

"for your information kuna," you squint your eyes at him and shake your head in disdain before stilling to spit out, "i can fuck pretty well, so both of you are sorely mistaken." too fed up to wait for a response or see any response from him, you whip your head in the other direction and walk back to the common area with everyone else.

the fuck kinda loser do you look like if both of them think you're inexperienced? releasing a small huff and rolling your eyes to yourself, you plop back onto the couch next to your friends, putting your elbow on the arm of the couch so you can prop your head on your hand.

smiling but also confused at your frustrated pout and furrowed brows, your friend holds out a cup for you and says your name, "suguru made one for you and told me to give it to you."

your lips are pursed as you take the cup with your free hand and peer into it. its another tequila and grapefruit soda mix. your friend gives you the same look again, knowing that you weren't going to talk about it right now but amused at the fact that something in the house got you so worked up. yet, you pretend you don't notice her looking at you, choosing to keep looking straight ahead, which gives you the perfect and untimely view of kuna's hot stupid face as he emerges from the hallway.

he has a wild smile on his face as he scans the area avidly, its so quick that you get flustered by the fact that he caught you looking at him and even more annoyed by his snarky nature. fuck ass red eyes burning crazily as he stares you down and grins at you so infuriatingly. but you fight the urge to roll your eyes when you look away and force yourself to listen to whatever bullshit your friends were yapping about, taking a biggggg swig from your cup so it would cover your eyes.

the fact that you can still feel him staring at you so shamelessly makes your skin burn. this is not how you wanted his attention.

a couple seconds in, out of the corner of your eye, you see the other idiot, suguru, walk up to kuna to dap him up. god no, if they talk about you or look at you, you really don't want to fucking know or else you WILL die from embarrassment, so you force yourself to only look at your friends, leaning forward so you can turn your head in their direction. and much to your luck, the pregame is starting to end quickly because all of a sudden, numerous groups of people start filling the house in a matter of minutes

coping with the fact that the interaction you had with kuna wasn't the end of the world but did trigger your intense fight or flight response to weird ass encounters like that, you eagerly jump to join your friend's classmates to take tequila shots. you really fucking need the happy juice to get rid of the embarassed churn in your stomach if you want to party, like now.

"oh that's really strong." a girl sticks her tongue out in distaste after taking a sip from her shot glass, well she didn't even take a sip, she stuck her tongue in it quickly like a lizard. having already taken your own shot, your eyes lock on the fact that she places the shot glass on the table as if she doesn't want it.

"you're not gonna drink it?" you ask, having to raise your voice now because the music has suddenly been cranked up

she makes a face and shakes her head, pushing it towards you, "nuh uh, drink it if you want."

so you take it

what you can only assume to be a pledge from the frat holds the tequila bottle up for all of you and asks, "any one of you girls want another shot?"

"me please!" you shout

when you turn to head back to your friends, you blink to ground yourself, becoming aware of the now burn in your stomach and taking a second to shake it out. and just as you planned, you no sooner find yourself shamelessly dancing with your friends unaware of kuna or suguru's existence. you're so smiley and giggly and happy, beaming when a banger comes on and dancing sexily, embracing the peak human experience that is strobe lights, rihanna, and alcohol.

"OIKAWA!" you shriek gleefully as you hug your friend, unbelievably happy because of his appearance to an already perfect experience.

"hi sweetiekins~" he responds with a diva like roll of his eyes, as if to express, 'of course all of you were waiting for me, i know, i know'

you drop your head against his chest in relief at his presence before moving your arms from around his waist to hook behind his neck, tiptoeing to reach his ears, "i literally wanna slutty dance so bad!"

"well i'm right here diva!" he winks at you and bites his lip so raunchily

a long longggg drunk fit of giggles leave you as you turn around in hold and start to sway against him, letting him 'feel' you up. oikawa's gay by the way lol. he doesn't look it from the outsider point of view, more like a guy's perspective actually. the moment you saw him, your spidey senses tingled and you just knew. in fact, a lot of people didn't know because his boyfriend was attending uni all the way across the country. and because of the fact that he was a ridiculously built 6'1 player from the volleyball team. to the normal, untrained, man brained mind, it would be hard to catch.

your friend firmly grinds on you and you unto him as the ridiculously loud but enthralling music booms across the house. you feel so cunty, grateful for oikawa and his ability to offer you the chance to dance sexily with a guy without a creepy boner poking your ass. you're not sure how long you guys keep this up for, could have been five minutes hell even an hour before you feel oikawa bring you closer to him, leaning down to brush your hair away from your neck to speak into your ear, "now since when have you been fucking kaisen kapta's pres cutie"

dory brained, but still focused on moving to the music, your eyes blink blankly in thought while you bring one hand up and place it on the back of oikawa's head to better listen to him. "what?" you ask blankly, brain too filled with booze and doja cat

oikawa's tone becomes extra mischievous and you can feel him smirking. "ryomen sukuna," he leans forward a bit so you can look towards where he motions his head, "since when have you been sitting on that handsome face?"

your throat runs a little dry, knowing you're supposed to feel a bit more alarmed at the fact that kuna is standing across the room, staring you down with a mean scowl. his bulging arms crossed while one hand holds a beer. fuck his arms are so huge, its so sexy. you wanna fuck him so bad-

oikawa pinches your waist a little to get your attention

"uuuh wait who are you talking about?" you mindlessly play with oikawa's hair as you keep listening to him

"sexy god over there with the red shirt-"

"wait his name is ryomen sukuna!?" you weakly gasp like a dumb blonde, clearly inebriated

oikawa's smirk becomes evil when the words escape your lips and he does it, the thing. his demeanor changes and he modifies the way he's dancing and holding onto you. on natural instinct your body reacts, feeling a chill run up your spine. and you can't suppress a giggle-like squeal when he cups his hand over your ear, as if he's going to say something he doesn't want anybody else to decipher, but softly blows into it instead. and since he's behind you, your eyes easily fall on sukuna again.

he looks so mad, you don't know why, but it looks really hot on him. the glass beer bottle in his hand is being viscerally gripped by him, you can see his veins protruding and he's so obviously biting the inside of his cheek

but all of a sudden, oikawa is leading you off somewhere with one hand on the small of your back while the other holds your hand to make sure you don't lose each other, "let's get you another drink cutie."

"oooh okay." you nod, empty brained as you walk by and make eye contact with sukuna, who's not ashamed to crane his head and glare at both you and your good friend. oikawa doesn't even look in his direction or seem like he's noticed him, but he does snicker to himself.

"you think there's any blue smirnoffs?" you ask innocently, wondering which cooler could have them as you enter the massive kitchen with oikawa, "i've never had one, i wanna try,"

there's some people in there too, some flirting, some chatting, some arguing and oikawa's awfully aware of how long it would take you to find a smirnoff considering that you can't see why the president of kaisen kapta is utterly furious, so to save himself some time and keep you put, he easily picks you up and places you on the edge of the kitchen island.

"there's not a lot of space for both of us to look through the coolers," he says, already trying to gauge which cooler has the drink you want and which one has the one he wants. so you bop your head to the music while he looks through the coolers, he's rather fast about it, like he somewhat already has in idea of the organization. he plucks a strawberry daiquiri and places it next to you before he crouches again to get your drink. but suddenly his phone starts vibrating, you can see it light up a bit through the fabric of his back pocket, it makes him stand up and feel around for his phone to look at who's calling him.

"oh shit its iwa," his eyes widen and quickly looks at you, " i have to answer this in the garage or something, iwa is gonna kill me, he'sso jealousitsnotfair" the last part comes out in a childish wine as he stalks off and flees to safety

you realize there's no blue smirnoff in your hand when you look down at the strawberry daiquiri next to you. do you just drink it and get another one for oikawa? aw fuck but you think its not a twist to open one.

you hold it up to try and-

someone takes the daiquiri out of your hands rather harshly and shoves a water bottle into your hands. you're insanely bewildered when you see its sukuna in front of you, giving you a death stare while he sets the stolen drink on the countertop behind him.

you stare at him, then the water bottle, repeating the sequency a few times before sticking to staring at him, waiting for him to say something because you're so confused, you don't know what to say or ask.

"you're drunk as shit."

your head jerks back a little, puzzled, "i can still drink more?"

"douche face just ditched you and your friends are all the way across the house, who's gonna help your ass if it hits too much" the last part didnt even sound like a question, more so a statement.

"oikawa did not just ditch me." you press your lips into a line, not fond of how mean he sounds right now

you swore you could have just seen sukuna's eye twitch at the mention of oikawa's name. "he walks like fuck ass satoru targaryen over there," he juts his chin to the back patio, where satoru gojo is kissing two girls at the same time, "fuckers are cut from the same cloth. he ditched you."

you tilt your head while blinking up at the unreasonably angry frat president, a bit off put by what he's saying. although they're raging red with irritation, his eyes soften ever so quickly at a particularly slow blink of yours for a practically nonexistent moment before returning back to their hard stare at you

"he's on the phone with his boyfriend though?"

you know sukuna just heard you because he there was a change in his anger, which is the most you can say because he was angry 100% percent just a few seconds ago, and he's angry 100% right now too, but it feels different. his breathing changed too, you can see his chest rise and fall like he's trying to calm himself down (his face doesn't seem like he's trying to calm down though)

his chest is so huge...he probably has an insane set of abs too...and a sharp vline

"the fuck you lookin at me like that for?"

a hard blink brings you back to the present, "huh?"

sukuna doesn't answer, his eyebrows aren't as knitted and the fire in his eyes have turned from a wildfire to a small housefire. he's biting the inside of his cheek a little, and it seems as if he's trying to read you for an answer that he doesn't even know he's asking for. he grimaces slightly when his eyes keep flickering between your eyes and lips.

"why are you so mad?" you ask gently, letting out a worried exhale as you put the back your hand against his forehead to feel for a fever, little care for the way he flutters his eyes closed at your touch. he doesn't feel like he's burning up, so you bring your hand back down but you're still waiting for him to answer, staring at him expectantly. oh its like a stove fire now

sukuna kisses his teeth and looks off to the side as he fixes his posture. wow he had been really close to you-

"drink your water."

he doesn't look at you when he says it, shaking his head subtly as if he was getting upset at something in his mind. deciding to listen to him, you open the water bottle and take a sip, staring at him in the process hoping for any other words from him.

"you tell suguru?"

sukuna's eyes flicker immediately towards you, eyes blank and looking at you as if to say 'come again?"

"suguru hasn't come up to me again..." you awkwardly start, doing your best to keep eye contact with him, "so i was just wondering if you told him..."

he's obviously not a fan of what you're asking, but he's still calm when he says, "you like him or something?"

"no"

"then why are you asking?"

"why are you here then?"

sukuna's eye twitches and he leans away from you, crossing his arms in front of his chest to ignore you

"you're being really confusing and im inebriated and i dont know even know you" you huff, pouting as you hunch over with both of your hands holding the edge of the kitchen island and look off to the side while you wait for whatever, you don't even know what's going on at this point

and like sukuna said, you actually are drunk as shit, so it doesn't even take 2 seconds for you to forget what you were pouting about before you start to run your eyes across sukuna's body. he looks so good when he's upset, you think, he'd probably be such a turn on when he's jealous and trying to lecture you about some lame. he's just so huge, you want all of his weight on top of you, god you'd probably die. you almost roll your eyes back at the thought of how small you'd look on top riding him, how he could easily move you like a toy if your knees gave out-

you're biting your lip and your eyes are glazed over when he notices the way you're eating him alive. his lips contort as if he's going to snarl at you, but he doesn't get the chance to and instead he goes blank when you say

"come here."

sukuna can't help the way he listens to you, even if he is looking down at you with some form of confused annoyance. you open your legs and slip one of your hands into his, trying to get him to stand between them. and he doesn't have the change to be taken aback by what you're doing when he's aware that anyone could just be at the right angle at the right time with how short your dress is and the lack of shorts under. he hurriedly presses himself against you in between your legs and looks around in a sort of panic for your honor, completely unaware of how he's rubbing circles on your hand.

when he finally looks at you, you giggle at the way his eyes widen, shocked at how close your face is to his and how intensely you're staring up at him

"do you still think im inexperienced?"

sukuna's jaw clenches and his eyes darken. "the fuck you get so much experience from then?" he mutters back, on the verge between hissing at you and snarling at you

"hearing my friends talk about what they do," you sigh at how pretty his nose is, "and i read twitter threads about sex cause im scared of being shit."

"hearing about it isnt-"

"im not a complete prude sukuna, ive kissed before." you use your free hand to tug him closer by the belt, "i haven't kissed anyone since forever though."

"do you wanna help me remember how to?"

"forever a fuckin month ago or some shit-"

"sukuna i haven't kissed anyone in nearly two years" you breathe and whine at the same time. and as a way to conserve strength under your maddening approaches, sukuna bites his teeth down and swallows down his own saliva

"yeah fuck that, you hung up on some lame-"

"ugh!" you grip his belt in annoyance and almost make him lose balance with the way you tug him closer out of annoyance, "i'm really fucking picky douche that's why i haven't kissed anyone in that long." and immediately you get even more frustrated when you exhale in exasperation, and weaken your hold on him, "nevermind you're not interested, im just being-"

"when did i tell you i wasn't interested?" he looks at you like he's severely offended by what you said

oh there's a little campfire

you like his attitude

"you seriously haven't kissed anyone in that long?" he asks so spitefully, yet the fact that he's staring down at your lips when he does cancels it out.

"i haven't," you look up at him with a pained expression,

the hand he had perched behind you on the kitchen island comes up and raises your chin, swiping your bottom lip tenderly. and he just stares at you like this for what feels like an eternity, but you wouldn't rather be anywhere else

you breathe him in gladly, basking in the airy feeling on his exhales so close to your mouth. he's gotten you riled up too, so you can't help the heavy lidded drag of your eyes all the way up from his crotch to-

he's kissing you

it's been so long and you're so drunk, you genuinely can't help the moan that leaves your lips within two seconds of him taking your bottom lip between his own and letting you fight for the rest, because he's a dominanttttttttt kisser if there ever was one

the sound you let out makes sukuna's eyes roll to the back of his head, a groan rumbling in his chest, driving him crazy enough to put a rough hand on your ass, the other under the softness of your thigh to bring your center closer to him. you follow suit, wrapping your arms around his neck, the fingers from your right hand lightly scratching down at the nape of his neck

and he may be dominant, but he hasn't done it, so you will

you lick a swipe at his teeth and sukuna immediately understands, tongue quick to lap at the roof of your mouth before he grips you hard out of sexual frustration and bites your lip to alleviate some of it. your mouths are far more inviting now that your tongues are involved, so you lick at his with the tip of yours, like youre beckoning him to fill your mouth up. it only has to happen one, two, three times before his tongue slots into your mouth and you let it lap at your own, waiting for him to recoil it back when you gently suck on it to keep him there for an instant, letting your teeth graze it teasingly

"fuck" he rumbles, breathing so ragged before going back to his attack on your mouth

that one word from him has you preening in desperation, unable to control the way you grind against him in an effort to feel his crotch against yours

"stop that shit." he growls so rudely

and then sukuna can't help but rub you against his hard on manually at the high pitched whine he manages to swallow from your mouth

REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK

both you and sukuna cringe at the deafening noise that cuts through the stereos

then there's two tap sounds

you and sukuna squint to be able to make out what everyone seems to be looking at, which is satoru, with a microphone in hand in front of the door to the back patio

"ladiesssssss," he smiles, "and gentlemen of course."

sukuna drops his head in annoyance, catching his breath, "what the hell is this imbecile up to now"

"i've brought in a special surprise for all of you today!"

a random pledge yells, "which is!"

"thank you underling!" satoru shouts back as if he were a king before placing a hand on his chest, "because this is the first party of the year...ive brought in a mechanical bull and whoever stays on it the longest....is going to get a chance to ride in my lambooooooo!"

it's like a stampede the way everyone, and you mean everyone, rushes outside. sukuna covets you out of safety, hand on the back of your head, bewildered at the way some people near you guys were roughly moving to go outside

the music's gone save for one stereo allowing music to dimly linger in the house and there's basically one percent of the party's population still in the house

you and sukuna both look at each other again, both about to speak-

"where's-"

"oh?"

sukuna's head is lifted up and you've turned your head to look at a snarky oikawa

"jealous type much?" he sticks his tongue out at sukuna, throwing up a peace sign to ragebait him

sukuna's jugular is about to burst and his neck is so strained in preparation of whatever wild thing he's going to bark at oikawa, but you shut him up unintentionally when you say, "jealous?"

sukuna abruptly turns back to look at you and oikawa stands there with a blank look on his face meanwhile you look between both of them for an answer...but they don't answer you

sukuna lifts a brow when he gets a look at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall

"shit its late," he pulls his body away from you just to take a full look at you, trying to gauge you dont know what. "you're gonna have a shit hangover tomorrow, you have to go to bed now."

"what?" you quirk your head in stupefaction at his so factually said statement, "I didn't drink that much."

you can hear oikawa fail to keep in a laugh

sukuna's eyes flicker at him for a nanosecond as if to shut him up, then he strokes some of the hair framing your face away to hold your cheek in his hand. "angel i saw you take six shots of tequila, three mixers, and i know you had already been one drink down before i got here."

"you wanna take her home mister pres~" oikawa giggles, winking at the man in front of you, "i'll give you permission to handle my sweet delicate flower"

sukuna glares at him in pure annoyance, not a fan of being teased over a girl, it makes him feel vulnerable and-

"can you?"

your back is turned to oikawa and sukuna is too flustered by your question to acknowledge him either, but oikawa actually turns to bite and giggle into his fist at the mischief he's caused, never would he have thought to see mean kaisen kapta president wrapped around the finger of a girl.

"do you have a car?" "uh yeah"

and you blink up at him so innocently, waiting for him to say that he can take you back home, which is actually sending sukuna into a short-circuit. he's insanely scared of you. he can't be left alone with you. not because he's a danger to you, but because you're a danger to him. you're drunk, he's not sleeping with you like that. but dear god he's scared that if you just lick his neck, you're gonna wind up sliding your pussy up and down his dick like its a toy and he'd gladly submit.

rigid, sukuna gulps, "i'll take you home."

your eyes light up in an instant

lord your smile. fuck. please don't even ask him for a kiss because he will let you use him until he's shooting blanks.

your head is pounding when you wake up, the buzzing on your phone not helping at all as you let your head drop back onto your pillow

and your phone keeps buzzing

you think its probably an alarm, so you hit the volume button without looking at it to shut it up. but it keeps fucking buzzing

near tears from the pain, you look at your phone

holy shit

the groupchat with your friends is blowing up and everybody's pinging your fucking name to respond to the videos of you making out with kaisen kapta's untouchable president so passionately in front of so many other people

fuck. what the fuck. you grinded your pussy on him, you remember that. wait-

you notice you're home and in your own bed and changed...you remember getting into sukuna's car...

for a moment, you concentrate to get a sense of whether your pussy was sore or not.

sukuna

i know you're awake, instagram says you're active

"what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck"

he had also been sending you messages

you wake up yet? no fucking way you can sleep this much i swear if you're fucking stringing me along you better not be dead from fuckass alcohol poisoning either oh my fucking days answer the phone so i know your dumb ass is alive i will drive over to your fuckin place if you don't answer in thirty minutes

and a new one right now of

im right fucking outside

you forget all about your hangover at the heavy knocking on your apartment door, adrenaline at the fact that he's here running all over your entire body. and in order to prevent any complaints from your neighbors about his loud knocking, you zoom to open the front door, cringing at the fact that you haven't even brushed your teeth or brushed your hair yet.

you're sheepish when you open the door, bearing a slight semblance to the one stuart little meme. all the meanwhile sukuna's looking down at you with a scowl

"i just woke up im sorry..."you look off to the side to regain some composure, "and i was active because the first notification i saw was my friends pinging me again and again on instagram..."

you don't even know if he's listening because yeah he's still giving you a mean stare down, but you see his eyes drift to your legs, like he's reminiscing on something

"alright, i'll leave then." he says, already turning to leave

completely thrown off guard, you read a hand out to anchor him back to you, "but you came all this way?"

"and?"

"what do you mean 'and' ?" you huff, "i really am sorry i slept for so long, i've never drank that much."

"you drink the ibuprofen yet?" "huh?"

sukuna's nose twitches in annoyance, "the ibuprofen i left on your nightstand."

you don't even get a chance to say no because the lost look on your face says it all. you didn't even look at your nightstand earlier...

sukuna is scoffing when he barges past you and into your apartment, leaving you to awkwardly close the door and wait for him to do whatever he's about to do. considering how tall he was, it didn't take him long to walk in and out of your room with a glass of water and two ibuprofen. he sets them on your small kitchen countertop, giving you a tight lipped fake smile as he waves his hand to motion towards the medicine.

you look everywhere as you walk towards the pills--and him--unsure of where to set your eyes on. they land on your couch, the sink, your napkin dispenser, him, your coffee machine, your stove, his eyes, your rug, the ceiling-

he refuses to look at you, even while you're taking the pills. well, when you place the glass back down on the table, he's looking at you from the corner of his eye when he says, "finish it."

there's like half of the water he brought you left, so you groan at his demand

"you wanna fuck up your liver and kidneys?" he bites back at you, eyeing you incredulously

and you can't really say he's wrong, you should finish the water. you also don't want to hear him make comments about the fact that you don't wanna drink more water, but you can sure drink more tequila that you can't stomach

he's fully turned to look at you when you finish chugging all of it, and you bear the swishy swoshy feeling you hate so much when you set it down again

"thank you for checking on me," you say softly, gulping out of shyness at the fact that you really are super into him and he's here standing in your kitchen, forcing you to take medicine.

"and for bringing me home, i hope i wasn't a hassle..."

"huh?"

sukuna's face looks as if someone just told him world war three just started

"well after we left the party," you earnestly begin, "i hope i didn't complicate things for you."

"fuck you mean by that?"

"well i don't know, i think i fell asleep in your car no?"

he's squinting now at you, "you did."

"well yeah im sorry, you probably had to carry me here too, since you left the medicine and everything."

"yeah and everything." his jaw clenches, and he looks so frustrated? a little hurt?

"did something else happen?" you tilt your head at him, blinking at him softly

"do you not remember?"

"uhhhhh" you look around, trying to think, "did you help me wash my face? i dunno my friends' boyfriends have helped them do that when they get shitfaced."

a certain word of yours makes sukuna grow rigid, but he ignores it for now when he kisses his teeth and shakes his head, "you handled all of that in the restroom by yourself."

"oh," your eyes drift off to the side, "okay then."

"you seriously don't fucking remember?"

"no, im sorry." you sigh, feeling bad that you can't seem to remember. it really irks you that you can't because he can and its clearly bothering him that you don't recall anything about it. you wonder just how bad it was or why it was reaching this degree of importance. sukuna paces around the room, eventually bringing himself around to drag a stressed hand on your kitchen island when he regards you again

"you-" "oh my god." "yeah oh."

you've only got an oversized t-shirt and panties on when you open the door to your restroom after showering. sukuna's pensively staring off into your bedroom wall while he sits on your bed, well he was until he heard the door open and saw you.

"whos fuckass shirt is that?"

you yawn meekly and look down at the t-shirt, "mine?"

its from your orientation for the university, your class year in bold letters on the back. you have a smaller that was originally handed to you but a good amount of oversized ones were left at the end of it and you took the chance to get one as a spare for your pjs

"fuck you mean yours."

you huff a little, crawling onto your bed to sit on your knees next to sukuna. "there was tons of extra big ones when orientation was over, so i asked for one," you breathe, hazy eyed when you let out an exhale and start to lock eyes on his lips

sukuna panics and gets up abruptly, "no."

"what?" you pout, giving him the most pained and pleading expression of the night

"i'm not doing more shit with you while you're drunk." he lets out in a gruff, pointing an accusing finger at you

you glare at him. sukuna raises an entrapped brow at the expression on your face, you hadn't looked at him like that ever in the hours he's known you. its hard not to notice the look on his face, so you side eye him, annoyed, "what?"

"nothing idiot."

"you're actually so mean" you drone, turning to plop over onto your stomach

because of the large size of your shirt, it gathers and swarms around you easily with every movement, including this one. your shirt had bunched some under you and was lifted at your back, meaning-

"sit. back. up. i can see your ass." sukuna hisses

you don't but you turn your head back to look at him and wiggle your ass for him, "wanna touch it?"

"im leaving." he scoffs, so infuriated at you as he takes a step to start leaving your room

"waitwaitwait-" you sit back up in a panic, back to giving that pleading look that angers him so much

"what?" he barks, unable to deal with your presence

"stay the night please."

sukuna seriously looks like he's going to faint out of physical exhaustion, but you fear the exhaustion is just resisting you. he rolls his eyes, but its not annoyance at you this time, just annoyance at how cruel life is right now

"if i touch you again, i wont be able to deny you anymore," he grits out, left eye spasming when he sees you change positions so you're leaned back on your forearms, knees pointing outwards.

"you don't have to touch me."

"what the fuck are you on-" "i wanna cum with you."

sukuna's head is about to explode, "HUH-"

"you can watch me and i can watch you." you bite your lip, legs shifting as you squirm a little in your own lust

he's blinking slowly, like he can't believe those words just left your mouth. you're actually panting as you writhe even more from your spot on your bed, "please, you don't have to touch me."

there's a wet patch on your panties, he realizes, biting down on nothing as he tries to breathe

"take a seat." you say so sweetly and smiley

and like an idiot, sukuna stares you down as he takes your desk chair out without even looking back and sits on it, manspreading so obviously aroused you dont even think he knows he's telling you everything with his body language. one of his hands is opening and closing over his thigh in a fist, while the other grips the arm of your chair. and you start to open your legs even wider.

"you wanna see what's under my panties?" you giggle

sukuna doesn't answer, it almost looks like he didnt hear what you said with the way he's just darkly fixated on what's between your legs

"sukunaaaaaaaa," you sing out his name softly and hook a finger under your panties as if to pull them to the side, "do you wanna seeee-"

"yes. fuck."

when you pull them to the side for him, you whimper a little at the air hitting your messy hole, connected in wet strings to your panties. the object of your ire can't help but raise his hips as a natural reaction to what he's seeing. and he's looking at you as if he wanted to kill you, something you find unbearably provocative.

"take it out." you urge him, now fixing your gaze on his bulge

again, like before, he doesn't seem to hear you

"sukuna," you whine, nose scrunching in vexation, "take your dick out."

he doesn't say anything, but his breathing grows intensely labored as he lifts his shirt off his head so that the front is tucked behind his neck while the short sleeves squeeze against his arms and shoulders. dear lord he has jagged line work tattoos across his abs and pecs, all the way to his shoulders. and you can basically hear him growling when he aggressively unbuckles his belt, unzips his pants, and shoves his boxers down just enough so that-

he hasn't even fucked you with it, but looking at the size of it makes you whine out like you're being pounded by it. its a monster, you're not joking. he's actually at least nine inches of veiny thickness. sure you can say some guys are at least six, a little less than seven, for sureeee four inches, but never did you underestimate a guy at such a big number until today. you always thought you'd be scared of a guy this large, maybe subconsciously those failed talking stages warped your brain with the constant 'oh no at a certain point its too big, i wouldnt wanna take that' you used when reassuring them.

he's shampoo bottle thick too. he could actually balance your shampoo bottle on it right now

"please let's just fuck right now," you start to beg, "i can take it."

"nuh uh," he shakes his head, wrapping a hand around the base, "im gonna watch and you're gonna watch."

"but-" you grow small at the look he gives you, it strikes fear into you--and makes you leak more but that's a topic for later.

"spit on it." he orders, gritting his teeth in ecstasy when he strokes himself languidly to the sight of your drooling cunt

being a girl with a love for being told what to do considering how much you have to be accountable for yourself in every other aspect of your life, you lean up a little and pull your panties further to the side, puckering your lips as you gather saliva in your mouth

"spread it open while you do it too," he grumbles, heaving a bit with his mouth slightly ajar, you can see the tip of his tongue press harshly against one of his upper canines

a frustrated and horny expression contorts on your face as you make a v with your fingers to spread yourself open and begin to let saliva fall off your tongue and onto your twitching pussy

"atta girl." he groans, starting to jerk himself off, "play with yourself baby."

too desperate for anything that could help you orgasm, you get right to it, no need to spread your wetness around to help you rub your fingers around your clit when you're so wet that its already made a complete mess on your inner thighs and ass. and its embarrassing, but it sounds so sticky already. your eyes are honed in on the sight before you as you rub yourself so hastily. the tips of sukuna's ears are red as he jerks himself off to the sight and sound of your messy hole being toyed with and his abs flex instinctively with every heave that leaves his body

you're about to slip a finger in, but

"rub it all messy a bit more baby," he grunts, giving you a hard look when you look like you're about to complain and saying your name so weakly, "be a good girl."

if you would do anything for him before, you don't know what you'd be capable of now with the words that just slipped his handsome lips

"okay," you breathe and go back to rubbing yourself haphazardly, feeble to his commands

he doesn't have you do it for long before he makes another demand

"put those fingers in your mouth."

too drunk and too horny to get flustered, you only look at him as you do as he says and bring your fingers up to your lips, licking at it first until you bring them into your mouth to suck on them and lap at them. its the way you're dying to get his dick messy and slobbery from your saliva.

"don't stop."

you hum, lacking the self control to stop your hips from shifting in an effort to seek out any relief for how much this is getting you going

"put them in now," sukuna urges suddenly, licking his lips in desperation while he messily jerks off his tip only, you can almost make out the sloppy sound of it. but you never saw him spit on it or his hand

oh is that from the precum?

a rough call of your name snaps you out of your daze

"sorry." you gulp, blinking quickly

you don't even struggle to slide your fingers in at all, it makes sukuna's eyes roll to the back of his head followed by a breathy and deep moan

and it pisses you off. you finger still finger yourself, pistoning your fingers in and out of the wet mess between your legs, but its not him. so you start to whine again, "sukuna, its not you, its not the same."

"fuck it faster."

you obey him but you're not happy that he just ignored you and you're definitely not happy that he's jerking himself off with his hand and not your pussy

your breathing picks up at the increase in speed, "sukuna, please."

nothing again

"sukuna, please!" you're practically throwing a tantrum now, "you're so fucking huge and its so wet for you, need you to fuck it open."

he gets up. and you're so ready to get dicked down, so fucking ready

but he pulls the chair closer against the bed and pulls you to the edge of it as he sits back down. and just this once, he means to touch you when he uses one hand to press one of your knees open for a better view of your sex

"fuck that pussy's so fucking slutty," he grunts out, eyebrows knitted and mouth open as he tries to imagine his cock instead of your fingers.

"yeah?" you can a feel a knot forming in your stomach

"shit," he curses, and snarls when he says, "don't talk like that."

fighting through the warm sensation growing hotter and hotter all over your skin, you moan out, "just-hmmmmm just wanted to ask if you- mmmm fuck- if you like watching this slutty fucking pussy?"

his reaction makes him look so handsome, with the way his nostrils flare and his pupils dilate so much you can't even see that his eyes are red anymore.

it catches you by surprise that his reaction to your dirty words were enough to send you into a life-altering bliss. your whole body starts twitching and you can barely finger yourself through the high, finding it too stimulating and you're not sure your brain can communicate to the nerves in your hand properly either. and you're about to instinctively close your legs together at the sensation washing over you when two mean hands now keep your legs pried open.

sometime before or during your orgasm, sukuna stopped stroking himself to just watch the way all of you looked when you let go. you're spent, whimpering as you finger yourself through the last few remnants of your euphoria, which leaves space for some clarity and sobriety in your mind. as a result, you're unbelievably flustered at how sukuna's breathing sounds so animalistic while he continues to pin you down both physically and mentally with his gaze.

you've just absentmindedly wiped your fingers off on your thigh when you lean back again on your elbows and look off to the side, nervously gnawing on your bottom lip

he lets go of your knees just to sit back in the chair again, cock bobbing up so angrily while he runs both of his palms against his thighs, "you're gonna keep going, im not done."

"mm?!" you lean up quickly, still taking somewhat shallow breaths and shaking from your orgasm

"fucking said you wanted me to cum with you, make me cum with you," mean red irises boring into yours when he scowls and wraps both hands around his dick, "keep playing with my fuckin pussy"

"i-" "you gonna do it or do i have to make you?"

meekly, you shake your head and you bring yourself up a bit, about to do something you hope will get him to cum faster. you slip off your panties and toss them over to him, making sure they land on his lap.

"since i dont have tissues for you to clean up with..."

"fuck" sukuna groans, gaze becoming insidious as he holds the delicate pair in front of him, fist closing tightly around it in desire before he holds it around his tip

then, using your core strength to keep your upper body still while you use both hands to part yourself open for him, you spit on yourself, letting a large glob land and run down your pussy lips obscenely. his brows furrow, watching you spread your spit around with your fingers darkly whilst he spits on his own length and by default your panties

you can't even bring yourself to complain about this when he starts to stroke and twist both of his hands around his dick so lewdly, slick noises vibrating throughout the room and definitely vibrating into your core. but its so flustering all of a sudden, you've never done something like this with someone like him.

"stop looking at me and I’ll leave right now, don’t care if I don’t get to cum, ill just finish myself off at home."

and you think he just might because he has the look of a madman when you force yourself to face him again. it makes your skin tingle, so much so that you say his name in a pretty and needy exhale.

"say my first name."

he doesn't even let you form an inquisitive face before he repeats himself

"fucking say my first name."

you're so nervous at the thought of it, stomach flipping from your ministrations and embarrassment as you bring yourself to say, "ry-ah ah ah" you can't help but whine when you catch your clit at just the right angle

he's still waiting for you to give him what he wants, one hand twisting around his base, while the other palms at his weeping tip with your panties.

"ryomen" you moan, entranced with the way a glob of spit runs down his shaft and onto his balls

if he needs both hands, god so do you. one of your hands works on your clit and the other juts in and out of you, overworking your already sensitive pussy, but this is exactly how you need it when he looks so maliciously sexy right now.

you're struggling to keep your upper body lifted without the help of your other arm though, starting to lean back and weakly exerting yourself to move up again so you could look at him

"wha-"

sukuna's above you suddenly, a hand outstretched next to you for balance as he leans over to grab your pillows?

when he starts to move back you let out a small noise of surprise because he drags you further to the edge of the bed by your ankle, your butt almost hanging off and places your pillows behind your back so you can sit up. then he sits back down and plants both of your feet on either knee of his, which are both pretty spread out when you consider the fact that he's a giant

god you can't help the way your heart starts beating out of your chest

"you make me nervous." you half heartedly complain, sexually frustrated and timid at the same time

"the fuck you think you do to me then?" sukuna's giving you a dirty glare as he holds one of your ankles delicately, thumb rubbing soft circles into it as he goes to grab his member again with the other hand, panties wrapped around his shaft.

"i-"

you're horny, flustered, spent, drunk, everything. you can barely muster the energy to start playing with your folds again, the small pause letting you feel how truly sensitive you are right now, so you don't know what to say. especially when you can see his dick much better now, fuck, its so veiny. the wide mushroom tip an angry red that you know could make you cum easily just by slipping in and out of your hole teasingly.

a gentle squeeze on your ankle reminds you of what you wanted to say

"i don't know what i do to you." you let out almost robotically, too focused on the dirty thoughts about his tip

"we'll talk about it tomorrow," he grunts, then gestures for you to look down.

he aggressively strokes himself from the base up and squeezes harshly just beneath the tip, precum oozing out as a result, precum that he purposely wipes off with the pussy slick ruined part of your panties, "just know that right now, this is what you do to me."

"oh fuck." you moan needily, mouth in an o shape

and even though you enjoy the pleasure and overstimulation, your own body is rejecting the ability to continue this self infliction

"sukuna" you wriggle, hips lifting and twitching at the searing feeling of your fingers curling up

he releases a gravely hum in recognition, but you want him to acknowledge you better than that

"sukuna!" you whine, bratty pout and all

"what." he bites, firmly squeezing your ankle

"it hurts, im so sensitive, i don't think i can-"

"don’t care if it’s fucking sensitive, tiny ass fingers aren’t even close to my fat cock splitting you open. so if you keep crying ill give you this dick and ill let you see what hurts more."

he shuts you up and you genuinely have no idea if its because you were scared of his threat or because it turned you on. honestly, you might just outright say that you like being scared into submission like this.

"fuck, you like that shit," he groans, watching the way your cute hole pulses and leaks, "cute ass slut"

"keep fucking it baby. go faster, make it messy."

pushing yourself past your limits, ignoring the way your body just wants to shut down, you listen to his orders, forcing your hand to vigorously move back and forth on your sloppy lips

"there you go," he groans, and you can feel his leg twitch, "fuck, such a pretty little thing."

a squeal makes it way past your throat and your leg starts to twitch

"yeah you like that?" he brings you even closer to him, the hand on your ankle now holding onto the back of your knee while your calf rests on his thigh, your foot dangerously near his dick

its too much

"ryo-" you can't even say his name fully because the intensity of your toying with yourself is starting to cause your brain to give out

"yeah you're close to fucking cumming aren't you" he smiles rabidly all of a sudden

"mhm mhm mhm mhm!"

"come on baby, cum for me," he mutters aggressively, smirking malevolently as he leans forward to place a kiss on the knee you still have up and perched on his leg, "give it to me princess, fuckin want it bad."

his eyes glaze over from where he's landing fluttering kisses on your knee when you make eye contact with him on the cusp of releasing

"there you go, comeoncomeon, let me see you cum so i can blow this load into your panties slutty baby." "shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit!"

your back arches off the bed, hips lifting again and again, yet only so much since sukuna's visceral grip on the back of your calf keeps you in place, and he's just bitten the soft skin where your thigh meets your knee.

"ohmygod ryomen!"

he's cumming already, you can see his body jerk forward the same way yours is right now, and he's a bit more hunched over, his hand that he was using to pleasure himself unmoving as he thrusts into it, well more so into the panties in them.

"fuck fuck-"

you squeal a little when he bites your leg again, softer than the first one, but you could register it more now that you were riding down the peak of your high. he has his forehead against your knee, breathing in and out deeply as he catches his breath.

meanwhile, you shakily raise yourself on one arm, and lean forward to play with the hair on the back of his head. sukuna visibly shivers at the action, even releasing a subtle groan

tired, you giggle, "thought you weren't gonna touch me?"

still using your knee as support for his head, a clearly fuming sukuna turns to look at you a bit sideways, still catching his breath, "piss off."

you let go of his head and lean back on both arms more comfortably

"can i see?" you motion your head towards the cock filled panties he's gripping against himself still

his lips press into a begrudging line when he swallows around nothing and leans back so you can see the mess he made

he cums a lot. like a lot. like, you wouldn't even be able to keep it in you if you even tried because of how much it would overfill you.

your panties are basically drowning in his essence, not one part of the cloth is uncovered. and he's still super hard too, extremely hard.

"fuckkk." you oggle, entranced as your hips start to wriggle again

"no, no." sukuna pushes you away with one hand while he stands up and uses one hand to keep his pants up, the other still holding onto your panties and the rest of the mess leftover on his palm, dick, and abs.

"what do you mean no?!" you whine in offense, moving to sit up as you watch sukuna clean himself up with your toilet paper in front of the mirror

"that's enough out of you," he suddenly rebukes, shaking his head in aggravated disbelief, "you're not safe."

"what does that mean?" you cross your arms, "i've only had sex twice like two years ago and we used protection."

sukuna pauses and looks up from his cleaning to look in the mirror, jaw clenching and nostrils flaring as he tries to not crash out on you.

"i'm going to ignore what you just told me."

"but-"

"im. going. to-"

"it was the same guy! and i didn't even feel it! it doesn't count!" you start to ramble, hoping to clarify something that sukuna didn't care about, "i never finished either! that's like so little compared to other people, so it shouldn't matter!"

meanwhile your recent sexual companion finishes wiping himself off, tossing the toilet paper away, and starts fixing his pants and buckling his belt back on.

"i'm not a fan of slut shaming as a feminist, but me personally i haven't been a slut! and i would also hate knowing that you even touched fingertips with another girl so i get it, but i also don't wanna be slut shamed for sleeping with that guy. and it was the one time so i shouldn't even have to-"

in that time, sukuna had also put his shirt back on properly before he walked back to you and suddenly put a hand on your mouth, the other behind your head

"im jealous as fuck." he starts with a snare, "but i told you to stop talking because the thought of popping your cherry on what real sex is like makes me want to eat you alive."

"and i especially can't take knowing that you couldn't feel that fuck ass lame's microshit because now my jealous ass is thinking about how much i wanna stretch that pussy open to the brim on my fat fucking dick."

your eyes flutter to the back of your head and you can feel wetness pooling between your legs again

"and i want you to be completely sober when i do that to you, especially because your drunk ass would probably take me on a spin instead, pervert." he lets you go and glowers as he steps back away from you, like you're gonna pounce on him any second. then he walks to one of your drawers to-

"why the fuck is it just thongs!?" he turns to look at you incredulously, nostrils flaring

you wink and stick your tongue out at him, "why? you wanna take another pair for another round?"

"no." he says through clenched teeth, flaming red eyes widening in annoyance, "for you to put on idiot. didn't answer my fucking question either."

"i have a couple normal ones in the bottom drawer." you sigh, bummed out, "and i just like feeling cute all the time in a thong."

he starts to look through the bottom drawer, trying very hard not to look at the bras next to your normal panties. "isn't that shit uncomfortable?" he huffs out, back still to you

"i've gotten used to it," you shrug, "besides it makes me feel like an undercover agent wherever i go. like you'd think i look normal, but no im actually wearing a stringy thong under this skirt, and bam im a cool girl like that"

sukuna picks up a pretty red lacy pair of cheeky panties and tosses it to you, "put that on"

"oooooh red." you smile, biting your lip, "you like red don't you?"

"leave me the fuck alone." he kisses his teeth, but is all of a sudden jumping across the room when you start to get up and walk, "what are you-"

you're look at him, innocently dumbfounded, holding out the underwear in your hand and pointing towards the restroom, "gonna put them on?"

he squints at you, body starting turn a little to block himself from you

you squint back at him, a bit annoyed, "my pussy is a mess, i need to wipe it off before i put these on."

"ugh," you groan, stomping off to the restroom and shutting the door behind you

when you come back out he's standing with his back to your door, head leaned against it as he looks up, pondering god knows what until his eyes land on you after hearing the door creak open

he juts his head to your nightstand, "there's a glass of water and ibuprofen there for when you wake up."

"thank you." you yawn, rubbing your eyes for a moment before getting on your bed

sukuna observes you, cautious, but not as alarmed as he was before considering you yawned and went straight to your bed instead of attempting to seduce him

when he sees you start to get under the covers, he decides to get closer to you, hoping you don't pull any sudden movements

"oof." you let the back of your head plop on your pillow, slow blinking as the night starts to bring you down with it

"you're a fucking brat." he tsks in distaste above you

"am not." you yawn again

"go to sleep." "okay" "alright."

"you sure you don't wanna cuddle? i came pretty hard both times and i wanna hug."

"no."

"pleaseeeeeeeeeee."

"I’m not fucking staying you’re gonna try to get me to do shit again because you know I won’t be able to stop you."

"im literally so tired."

"not taking any chances." sukuna glowers, right eye twitching at the sight of you nestled in your sheets so peacefully. "you better fucking text me when you wake up," he starts to walk out of your room and glances over his shoulder as he's about to close the door to your room, "goodnight."

and now you're here, jaw dropped in shock at yourself, at him, at everything

"you just forget finger fucking yourself in front of guys like its normal?" he presses, both hands on your kitchen island as he looks at you menacingly

"i-"

"ohmygod no i dont and i dont even do that!" you panic, knowing how this looks

"how do you know if you can just forget shit like that?"

you run both of your hands down your face, rapidly blinking in disbelief at the situation you've found yourself in. but you take a second to collect your thoughts and breathe deeply, then you walk up to sukuna trying not to faint at his beauty now that you're sober and know exactly what is was that you were up to with him last night

"listen to what im about to say please?"

sukuna quirks a brow at you and crosses his arms in front of him. he is such a crash out dear lord.

"for one, i have never been that drunk in my entire life until last night. i normally stop when i feel queasy and that usually stops me from getting to the point i was at last night, so i don't know why that didn't hit me at any point."

his arms are right smack in front of your face you realize, fuck you're sober now and its actually making you really shy now instead of just horny and flirty.

"and? that all? if that's every-"

"oh my god! i have a big fat crush on you! jeez!" you practically yell. "the reason i got so weird when i bumped into you at the restroom was because before that when you guys were handing out the qr codes for the party, right? that was the first time i had ever seen you and i was into you in an instant."

you feel like this is a humiliation ritual, "you're exactly my type, i think you're the most handsome guy i've ever seen." and by that point you look off to everywhere else except him even though you're planted right in front of him

your crush's mean face is calmer now, and he's actually at a loss for words as well, squinting at you a little until he snaps back, "yeah thats a fuckin lie cause you already knew my name when you met me."

"cause that's what i heard satoru call you when you got mad at him for asking us to put our instagram handles in the rsvp!"

he processes for a second, sizing you up to see if you're lying or not and when he decides that are telling the truth, something else contorts on his face, "that was the first time you saw me?"

he looks offended when you look up at him

"uh-"

sukuna's eyes contort widely as if to say 'really?!' then his arms drop in incredulity and he lets out a groan of your name. "we had almost every single class together last semester and the one before that." he grits out

your mouth opens and closes

oh my god. you're not shit. "um okay so-"

sukuna storms away and sits on your couch, arms crossed in front of him again, refusing to look at you

for such a big bad mean guy, he's such a crash out, what the fuck?

you sit on your knees next to him on the couch, bypassing your awe of him to invade his personal space and place both of your hands on one of his arms

"im not the most social person sometimes okay?"

he side eyes you for a second then he looks away

"come on, how much did you notice me, it probably wasn't that much."

"you always sit in the fuck ass middle left of the lecture hall so you don't get called on as often, but also so you can get noticed by the professor if you need to participate or ask a question."

you did in fact do that for those reasons

"you like that grass tasting shit, you start texting during class on your mac if the lecture is boring as shit, or you start shopping for clothes. you're always one of the first ten to finish a test, you hate using pencils, and you keep that fuck ass rabbit everywhere."

"huh?" "the white ass bunny or whatever fucking-"

"OH! Miffy!"

"miffy." he rolls his eyes as he spits the name out, going back to looking away and attempting to turn from you on the couch even though he cant go any further since he's against the armrest

you really have no idea what to say, you're flattered more than anything that he noticed those things about you, but you feel bad for not having noticed him meanwhile he obviously noticed you. and its really tough to gauge what to do since you guys technically only met and spoke for the first time yesterday

but a lot has happened since then

"but when i did see you, i immediately got the hots for you." you squeeze his arm in reassurance

"ryomen." you say firmly, leaning forward so he cant avoid your face

he looks down instead. you laugh

"what's so fucking funny?"

he is so offended that you're laughing, and is he pouting a little???

"what's worse ryo, me taking a little more than a year to notice you after you notice me or noticing you and not forming a crush on you until a year later?"

he knows you're actually being reasonable, you can see it in the way bites his cheek and starts looking to the side then to you again and again.

grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

both of you look down at your stomach

"when was the last time you ate?" sukuna glares daggers at you

instead of answering you press your lips together and slowly start looking away

"nah tell me right now." he pushes, starting to get frustrated at your lack of response

"maybe like some eight hours before the pregame..."

he shakes his head in disapproval at you, and points to your bedroom door, "yeah go get fucking dressed so i can get your ass food before you drop dead."

you sit there a little shocked, debating whether to say something

"you deaf now instead of blind?"

"ugh oh my god you're so sassy!" you get up from the couch and whip your head around to go to your room

you try to look cute for him when you get ready, opting for a red shirt since you have a feeling its his favorite color and also because this one in specific was very booby. but that was the most you'd try in terms of your outfit, wearing jeans instead of a skirt because he didn't explicitly say this was a date either.

when you walk out of your room, he's leaning against the kitchen island, scrolling through his phone. he's seriously so handsome, tan skin giving him this succinctly sexy edge, his sharp nose so manly with the way its curved so so so elegantly. he could be a god in another life looking this way, there's something so eternally rugged about him. and his eyes, his eyes, his eyes, his eyes, you love them so much, they're so expressive and telling of his feelings. he can boss you around with one look.

the way he did last night

your eyes widen and you remember what happened less than 24 hours ago, in the room you were just in. oh god he wiped his precum off on the wet patch from your used panties. this hot and beefy 6'4 guy wants to fuck you. he's already seen you cum. and he's just right there.

"you ready?"

you step back, nervous and feeling heat rise incredibly quickly to your face, "uh-"

sukuna is about to get annoyed but then he notices how sheepish you look and tilts his head in curiosity

"what's wrong?"

your heart is starting to beat out of its chest and it honestly feels like its going to come out through your throat with the way its causing you to start taking deep breaths

interest piqued and frankly a little worried, he starts to walk towards you after setting his phone down on the island surface. something glints in his blood red orbs at the way you take another subtle step back, you probably don't even notice you've done that either

"fucks gotten into you?" he smirks, finding it extremely attractive the way you nervously gulp and refuse to make eye contact with him for more than two seconds at a time

"nothing," you answer quickly, looking the other way when he leans in to be face to face with you, "i think im just starting to get woozy since i haven't eaten."

"doesn't fuckin look like that" he teases, "tell me."

"it is that," you look at him sternly in defiance

he stares at you still with that stupid smirk on his face. and it pisses you off so much, so you try to push past him and head towards the door, but he grabs you by the arm to keep you in place

"i told you already-" "we're not fucking leaving until you tell me."

"fine then i just wont say anything." you sass back

sukuna's smirks slips into an evil, but sexy smile as he drags you closer to him

"then we're staying here."

"well i have to eat," you glare at him, "and there's nothing to eat or use to cook in my fridge so its either we go or i drop dead."

sukuna is so riled up when he teasingy shakes his head at you, "pretty baby i could just order food here, i dont give a fuck."

he's ragebaiting you so hard

"christ, you already know, you're just trying to embarrass me by making me say it out loud." you try to tug your arm away from him

he crouches down to be face to face with you, face swerving with yours as you try to get away from him. "i can't read your mind beautiful," he bites, "what's so embarrassing about what you're thinking?"

"last. night." you grit out, still trying to pull your arm away from him

"what about it?" he grins

"you. know."

"oh i know a lot of things about last night," he gently pushes you so that you're trapped between him and the wall, "but you're going to have to be specific."

"this has got to be some form of torture." you mutter

"aw don't fucking talk to me about torture," he tuts, leaning down so his breath kisses your lips, "forcing me to watch you play with your pussy knowing i wanted to do so much more than that."

"yeah real fucking nervous now without all that booze in your system aren't you?" he sneers, letting go of your arm so that he can plant it against the wall while the other holds onto your waist

you can't help but feel aroused when you look at him, a need starting to stir in your stomach. fuck, he's humiliating you and it turns you on like the freak you are

"you're such an ass." you shake your head, shifting your sight between his lips and his eyes

he doesn't care, actually enjoying the sound of those words from you. his nose is barely grazing yours and he's starting to try to get as close to your lips as possible without touching them.

"thought we were gonna get food." you breathe, attempting to tease him back

it seems like he's forgotten his mission to torture you, because he doesn't care to bother you about what you were thinking

"you wanna go," he licks his lips, "or do you wanna order in."

"why would we need to order in?" you feign innocence

sukuna puts his other hand on your waist now, holding you close so he can dip his head intot he crook of your neck

"fuck, what perfume do you use."

you laugh lightly, careful not to moan at the ticklish feeling of his breath against your neck

"let's order in." he says, licking a stripe up your neck

a lewd moan vibrates from the back of your throat, mouth agape when he leans back to get a look at you, "what'd you say?"

you raise a hand to his chest, bunching the material of his shirt into your fist and bring him close to your mouth. when he leans forward to try and get a touch, you lean back.

you place a fleeting sensual kiss on his jaw instead

"let's go get food, okay?"

you and sukuna keep this dynamic for a week. nothing below the belt has happened since that night and quite frankly, you like the wait, its hot, especially since sukuna gets so needy with you and grinds you against him so often to alleviate some of the sexual frustration in his pants. you love it too, considering the monster in his pants and how easy it is to feel it against your clit.

you also kinda wanna know what this is

since that morning after, you guys just act like a couple. he's been waiting for you after class if he's free, asking you to wait for him in the library if he's in a lecture, in fact sitting with you in the one class both of you have together. you haven't cooked anything either, he's either just been buying the both of you food or bringing you over to the kaisen kapta manor to cook for you. he's slept the night at your place and you've slept the night at his. you're sending each other raunchy reels on instagram for gods sake.

but you haven't talked about it, so are you?

you just wanna have sex with someone that's yours and you kinda do get upset that he's been acting this way and hasn't said a word to you about being a couple

sukuna

you still with your friends?

so you dont feel like answering much when he sends this at 10:30 pm, while you take a very much needed bubble bath

sukuna

??????

talk about stirring the pot because you actually had just been with your friends an hour ago, you didn't post the videos or photos you took with them at the bar, so you have the choice to post one as if you're still there

sukuna

the fucks with posting your shit but airing my ass you got a problem or smth? i know what bar youre fucking at, answer me or im going

your phone starts buzzing

and you just stare at it for a while from your spot on the tub, head perched on the edge while your hands paw at it

he's on his fourth call right now

you pick up the phone and stare at his contact picture, its a really handsome pic of his side profile you took while he was looking at a menu. okay maybe you'll answer.

"hello?"

"where the fuck are you."

"mmmmmm," you look off to the side, pretending to be pensive, "why do you wanna know?"

"shits not funny," he barks, adding your name at the end

"um im not trying to be funny," you say matter of factly, running your fingers across the edge of the tub, "just don't know why you wanna know so bad."

"where the fuck are you."

"ughhhh why do you wanna know." you drag at the end like some valley girl

"are you drunk?!"

truth be told, you did get a little in your feels about the fact that you didn't know what you and sukuna were

so you drank like two shots of tequila and three pornstar martinis

"maybe." you giggle

"send me your location right now, im picking you up."

"im literally at my apartment." you sigh, focused on the way your feet pick up the bubbles from the surface

"well stay there, im coming over."

"why?" "the fuck you mean why ? "

"its not like you're my boyfriend, so why do you wanna come over so bad?"

and he laughs. he deadass laughs. and then he hangs up.

if you were sober your stomach would drop, but annoyingly so, intoxicated you just loves that life, so you don't think much of it, wondering what he's going to do tomorrow at the party instead

you hear your apartment door open not even five minutes later.

you try your best to peer out the open door of your restroom, attempting to listen as sukuna calls out your name...yeah he also knew your apartment building code and you gave him the code to your unit.

you're blinking at him when he walks into your room and appears at the door frame. your arms folded over the edge of the tub with your head against them, "hi"

sukuna scoffs, a toxic annoyed smile on his face

since he didn't say anything back, you just zone out and look at him

he shifts his weight onto one leg, and drags a stressed right hand over his mouth and chin while the other hand hold it up by the elbow. he's wearing that black shirt you like, the one you saw him in for the first time

"who else is fucking buying you food." he infuriatingly asks through clenched teeth and a strained neck

"mmm nobody." you quip back

"who have you been fucking sleeping with at night."

you roll your eyes a little and answer his obvious question, "you."

"and who's mouth have you been tongue fucking this entire time."

"justtt yours." you smile

"and you wanna do this shit with somebody else or what?"

"nuh uh." you pout

"so," he fake smiles at you, motioning towards his chest with his hands, "im your fucking boyfriend, ive been your fucking boyfriend, and if i text you, you better fucking respond, and if i ask where you are, you tell me within the next five fucking seconds."

"why're you so mad ryo?" you sigh, lifting yourself a bit more so your tits sit atop the edge of the tub

"you only do this fuckin shit when you're drunk y/n, fucks wrong with you." he painfully rebukes you, shaking his head as if he can't believe this is happening again. its his first time seeing them actually. when you guys got up to no good the night of the party, the only show had been your pussy since your shirt stayed on.

"'s not cause im drunk," you shake your head, "i haven't had sex with you because i wasn't sure what we were and now that i knowwwwwwww i just wanna be dicked down so bad."

"i didn't know you thought we weren't together" he looks at you crazed, torn between the malicious lust building up in his body at the sight of his soapy and slippery girlfriend and her soapy tits taunting him, and the fact that you just pissed him off earlier and now you're pissing him off even more because he doesn't want the first time you fuck to be when you're not all the way present in the moment.

"i thought you were just waiting for the right time when you were comfortable." he hisses when you stand up, eye twitching uncontrollably at the sight before him

"okay well whatever," you say as you step out of the tub, "let's fuck now."

"no."

you damn near stomp your foot at the rejection, "why don't you want me?"

sukuna absentmindedly shakes his head as his eyes glaze over, pants growing tighter at the sight of your slippery tits right smack in front of him, "you have no idea how bad i fuckin want you."

he's actually in another dimension, unable to move as you come closer and closer. until you're wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your very very naked and wet body against him.

"well then?" you pout

his hands ball into painful fists, using every ounce of willpower to stop himself from bending you over the sink and jackhammering into you. but he pries you off of him and escapes into your room

"im not fucking touching you until that shit's out of your system."

out of the corner of his eyes, he sees that you're still standing there naked and says your name.

he sounds so utterly destroyed

"put this on," he snaps gruffly, tossing you the first thing he found in your pj drawer in order to just make this easier on himself

which he should have been more careful about because he actually tossed you a racy short and almost translucent night gown, which you're now wearing and smiling knowingly at him while you let your hair fall from the updo you had it in for your bubble bath

you're drunk, but you're not as drunk as last week

"okay i'll wait," you smile softly, softened by how much he wants to make your first time with him special

you walk past him and get on your bed with an oomf, hair spread across your pillow while your hands clasp over your stomach. one of his sharp eyebrows quirks up as he stays standing where he is and looks at you, dubious over your words

"i'm not that drunk ryo," you extend your hands outs to make a grabby expression for him to get on the bed with you, "i told you that my behavior and excess drinking from last week was a very isolated incident."

he doesn't move for about 20 seconds, letting silence fill the air meanwhile he debates whether to believe you or not

"scout's honor." you nod

your boyfriend presses his lips together and makes a begrudging sigh as he moves to the other side of the bed to lay next to you with his back to the pillows. in turn, you shift onto your stomach and prop your head up in yours hands in order to look at him properly

"hi boyfriend."

he scoffs and rolls his eyes, as if to say, 'girl please'

you get closer to him, hugging his chest and dropping your cheek onto it when you say, "i said hi."

neither of you had noticed, but his breathing started calming down significantly at the action.

still upset with you, sukuna micro-shakes his head

"you wanna cuddle and watch a movie?"

"..."

"we can watch The Menu."

now he looks at you

"and i can order that really spicy ramen you like."

self aware to know that he's already agreed, sukuna tries to play it off a little non-chalantly by avoiding your line of sight when he responds, "just use my card when you order."

"good boy." you beam, leaning forward to press a wet smooch on his lips before you hop off the bed and head to your living room to get the movie ready, blissfully ignoring the ticked off look he gives you at the pet name

you're slouched into sukuna's side later, his arm wrapped around you and your own arms around the one holding you. the movie you proposed finishing up as the entire restaurant blows up into flames.

"hate that fuck ass ending." sukuna comments

"but yet its still one of your favorite movies." you yap back, "and yes i know murder and food in a movie, that's why you like it so much."

"yeah and the writings not completely shit." he corrects you, making a face at the smart ass remark you added then he grabs the controller to the tv and starts looking through something else the both of you could watch

"tch"

"hm?" you look up at him, wide eyed

"you watch this shit?" he gestures towards the tv with the controller

you're halfway through your rewatch of bridgerton on your most recent continue watching

"bridgerton?"

he nods

"yes?"

"you not happy with me or something?"

"WHAT?"

sukuna jerks back at your exclamation, eyeing you up and down harshly, "the fuck you mean 'what'?"

you look at him incredulously, smiling in disbelief and scampering up so you can face him properly, "why would you assume im not happy with you?"

"why do you need to watch that shit if we're together?" he says like its obvious

you're really struggling to connect the concept he's got going on in his head

"ryo," you breathe, trying to make yourself not the enemy, "what does it mean to you when i watch bridgerton?"

"that you gotta watch something romantic because there isn't any in your life."

you raise a finger up, unsure of the association he has going on, "okay so-"

"why do you watch it?" he's grumpy and squinting at you

"because im a girl and i like seeing romance unfold ryo," you sigh, trying to hide the amazed yet amused expression in your eyes, "i don't imagine myself as the lead female."

now he looks like what you're saying doesn't make sense, so you grab his free hand and bring it onto your lap so you can caress it while you try to get somewhere with him on this

"babe who else do you even know that watches these things for you to think that this is how these things work?"

"satoru."

a hand flies up to your face

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

"what?"

the wide smile on your face is impossible to wipe off, not even biting your lip down can help

"satoru gojo watches bridgerton?"

"yeah?" sukuna confirms, confused as to why this is so funny for you, "watches those fuck ass movies too, the one with the bitch that doesn't know what she wants, dont fucking know."

"THE NOTEBOOK?"

"yeah think thats it..." he eyes you up and down again

you're laughing into his shoulder now, incapable of handling the information he just handed over to you and astounded by the reason why satoru gojo watches those films in the first place

"first of all," you've calmed down a little now, still in euphoria from the laughing fit you just had when you lean back and grab his hand again, "you are my very own bridgerton show on its own." and then you place a sweet kiss on each of his knuckles

"and i wasn't going to tell you because i thought it was very middle schooler of me, but when i watch, imagine us as the main leads. especially in season two."

"you being for real? dont try to fuckin lie to me so i feel better."

"im being very for real." you nod, moving in close to give him a quick peck, "look, if you want, we can watch like the first thirty minutes of season one and then if you don't wanna keep watching we can find something else. just so you can see what i mean."

he's silent, but he holds out the controller for you to take, a small sneer on the edge of his nose

"there's also leftovers from the pizza we had the other day, i know you didn't get full from the ramen."

"i'll go heat-"

you've just pressed play on the first episode and set the controller down when you get up and start heading to the kitchen, "i'll do it handsome, you watch."

so he slumps down on the couch, cheek resting on his fist and bored as the the girly music starts to play on the screen. meanwhile you open the fridge and try to see where you left the pizza stored away.

five minutes have passed since the show started and sukuna's just noticed your lack of presence because of a question he wanted to make about the historical accuracy of the show. he doesn't think he heard you go to the restroom so where-

you're bent over, rummaging through the fridge and apparently you don't have any panties on

he can't help but stare, feeling his pants grow tight immediately. why in the the lords name do you not have panties on? in an effort of self control, he taps his foot rapidly on the floor, biting his lip so he doesn't lunge forward and start licking you clean

"oh there it is!"

you get back up, hair slightly tussled and nightgown a little crooked from reaching all the way into the back of your fridge. and you move to put the pizza in the microwave, completely unaware to the fact that he doesn't want pizza anymore

the microwave in your place takes a while together to heat things up too, so after you shut it closed, you saunter over to sukuna

"how's the show so far?" you ask, eyes on the screen as you're about to sit on the armrest of your couch

but sukuna swoops your hands into his, bringing you to stand in front of him between his legs while he sits forwards, elbows on his knees while he gently sways your clasped palms.

"oh?"

"you're not wearing panties." he says factually, peering up at you from below, and he's actually calm when he says it

"oh..." you look down, "well you didn't toss me any earlier and i got distracted trying to calm you down..."

"mm"

he's still swinging your hands in his as he takes in the details of your appearance, eyes lingering on your shoulders, neck, ears, lips-

"come here." he speaks serenely, leaning back and guiding you onto his lap so you're straddling him

"ryo what-oh."

you moan softly, shivering at the sudden feeling of his mouth interchanging between tender languid licks and kisses on your neck your body relaxes in his hold and all you can do is stabilize yourself on his shoulders while he continues to worship you

you try to be the voice of reason, struggling more than anything when you exhale, "you're making me wet, it's gonna make a mess on your pants-mmmmm fuck."

he ignores you, unphased when he brings his head up to stare at you dead on, heavy lidded eyes on your lips before he brings a hand up to hold your chin between his pointer finger and thumb gingerly. and he starts to kiss you, in an insanity inducing lustful but delicate pace.

this actually turns you on more than a rough makeout session and its really dangerous. its actually so dangerous, because the moment the tip of sukuna's tongue swipes at yours, you're compelled to grind against him. shit, but you try squeeze out some sanity since he's clearly not thinking, and attempt to push yourself up so you can get yourself and your pussy off of him

but, no surprise, its impossible when your captor wraps both of his thick arms around you, the hand on one of them holding onto the back of your neck to push you against him, body and mouth.

"pussy can drool all over me baby." he nips lustfully at your bottom lip, adding in before he continues the sensual corruption of your lips, "be good for me yeah?"

screw him for being like this

weak for him, you do what he wants, and well what you want too. so you wrap your arms around his neck, running a hand onto his scalp to get a better hold of him while you take a swipe at the roof of his mouth with your tongue then pull his bottom lip between your own, shivering when he retaliates by biting down on your bottom one.

and you start to slide your pussy on him, eyes rolling back at the contrasting feeling between your slick lips and the rough material of his jeans. your hands move to the sides of his face, cupping just under his jaw and clawing at his undercut when he swallows a moan of yours.

he pulls back

your hole flutters like crazy at the way he bears such a terrifyingly hungry expression on his face.

he dips down again to your neck, holding you in place as he starts sucking a hickey. it has you keening, moaning loudly while he lets out a groan of his own and raises his hips up to bounce you on top of him for friction, almost like the way he does hip thrusts at the gym, but this time much more eager and faster.

"babe-"

he slides the strap of your nightgown off, biting into your shoulder

"fuckohmygod." and you don't even know where you get the instinct to do it. your nightgown is basically hanging off by the nipple on the side he slipped the strap off of. you saw him glance at it for a moment after he bit your shoulder too. as if its natural for the both of you, as if you've been in this same situation before, you press yourself against and push his head where you need him.

to think he was the one trying to avoid your advances earlier, sukuna doesn't hesitate, keeping his eyes on you when he tugs the fabric of the nightgown down just enough to let your breast pop out and then really staring you down hard when he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly

"yes-pleasefuck-righttherebaby."

your mouth is open so sluttily as you watch him pleasure you, mouth growing dry at how dilated his pupils are. goodness, you need more. so you grind against him more, trying to land exactly across where his hard is tucked under his pants, trying to imagine what he would feel like if he were naked underneath you.

and when you find the angle that actually spreads your lips across his thick length through his jeans, you desperately rock your hips back and forth against it, chasing the very near orgasm you're about to have.

your boyfriend can read minds after all, you're convinced, because he no sooner releases your nipple with a pop, just to accumulate saliva on the tip of his tongue and letting the glob drop onto your nipple, transitioning into a dirty and spit filled french kiss with it. it makes you start twitching against him as you drop off

"holyshit-mmmmm-ryo-ryo-ah-ohmygod."

and then he pulls back on it softly by letting his teeth graze it. your feet kick a little at the sublime sensation he just added to your orgasm, whining as you start to cling onto him in exhaustion, catching your breath

sukuna litters your exposed chest with kisses while you're slumped over him, paying no mind to how dirty his crotch is and instead cupping your ass so he can rub you against him even more

you twitch at the contact, pussy rubbed raw by the thick material of his jeans.

"mmm-it hurts."

"i know baby."

you and sukuna don't have sex that night either

sadly

he slept over, so he got off in the shower much to your dismay, and frankly was a bit mean when he forced you to be little spoon with his mean boner basically sliding between your ass the entire night.

and you guys woke up late too since he actually did find bridgerton interesting and asked to watch another three episodes before bed on your laptop. which wasn't the most intelligent choice since there was a another party at Kaisen Kapta today and he had to be there for some of the preparation as president, meaning he had to leave almost immediately after waking up. he didn't even bother to brush his teeth or tidy himself save for putting on the gym shorts he left at your place since his jeans had a certain stain on the front--all because he made the most of the time he had to edge you in your opinion. you made out very hard for twenty minutes.

"come on you know you wanna fuck it so bad." you whined from below him, pulling your panties to the side for him to just get on with it

he looked down at the way his boxers got wet from grinding himself against your pussy

"fuck." "just stretch it out baby, you know you wanna."

he put his forehead against yours, and shook his head, pecking your lips in the process, "nah princess, gonna need more than ten minutes to destroy this messy fuckin hole."

so now you're horny and frustrated at the frat house's door with your friends, waiting to go in.

sukuna told you not to come to the pregame because he was going to be driving to and from the house for different errands for the party and he didn't want you near suguru. or liquor because he had certain plans for the both of you tonight. that part doesn't really annoy you...

"this is so annoying." oikawa groaned as you guys tried to filter through the crowd outside the outside trying to make their way inside, "i wish there were real bouncers at these things."

one of your friends says your name, "ask your boyfriend to get a bouncer next time!"

"at this point im gonna ask him to make a secret door." you groan

oikawa looks like he's suddenly been blessed with an idea when he stills

"oika-"

"silence my pretty ladybug." he pats your head, malicious grin decorating his features before his mouth opens wide to say, "HELLO! RYOMEN SUKUNA'S GIRLFRIEND TRYING TO GET INSIDE! MOVE PEOPLE! YOU DON'T WANT HIM TO GET MAD WHEN HIS PRECIOUS PRINCESS CAN'T GET INSIDEEEEE!"

and he basically uses you as a shield for him and your friends as he maneuvers you in front of him and leads all of you inside as the crowds part almost instantly

you don't even have time to get thrown off because just as fast as he said it, is how suddenly you're inside the house already, strobe lights flashing and music blasting at an insane amount of decibels

you feel your phone buzz

sukuna

you here?

you

mhm mhm am close to the dj setup

sukuna

stay there ill go get you

your friends are already clinking shot glasses next to you when you put your phone down. you're actually pretty sure you heard oikawa tell a pledge with a bottle of vodka that the president's girlfriend wanted shots. loser.

you don't think it should take long for sukuna to come and get you. you're looking around to the left side of the house, thinking he had been near the kitchen. it's why you don't notice oikawa spit out his vodka in reaction to the person coming up to you.

"hey baby."

oh you hear saxophones, but right now its in the form of the stereos blaring the intro to house of balloons. you can't even step back, you feel like a deer in headlights. this can't be happening. he can't be here. why is he here, why is he-

"aw what's wrong?" toji zenin coos, smug grin on his annoying fuck ass face as he looks down at you, "thought you'd be more excited to see me after all this time. i missed you y'know."

"what are you doing here." you hiss out, taking a step back when your senses slowly start coming back to you

"i told you angel, i missed-" "cut. the. bullshit."

you and toji zenin have history...well something like that, you don't even know what counts at this point. he was a year older than you and you had him for class during the spring semester of your freshman year of uni, even exchanged instagrams for a group project. it's how you guys started flirting during the summer and eventually started doing certain...things...over the phone. it was the first and only time you ever went through whatever he was. he treated you like his girlfriend and you were so naive you thought that it meant you were his girlfriend. he strung you along on some bullshit about how he wanted to wait for uni start back up again before calling it official so he could make sure you had that chemistry in person. said some bullshit about how he had a similar experience with another girl before and didn't wanna go through it again. but then he went to australia on an exchange for two years instead of coming back to your university. he was supposed to have graduated by now. and he's the reason the reason you hate frat boys.

he's in your boyfriends frat

"took less classes over there, so i have to do another year for my hours." he tilts his head at you, "and i wanted to see my girl."

"oh i am not your girl." you back away when he leers closer to you

"im sorry i made you cry sweetheart," he purrs, reaching a hand out to move a stray hair from your cheek, "but i can make it up to you. i can do all the things we talked about doing. remember how much you squirted when i talked about tongue fucking that cute pussy from the back?"

you almost give yourself whiplash with how hard you turn your face away from him.

"the fucks going on here?"

you thought you had seen sukuna crash out before, after all that's happened especially last night when you almost gave him a heart attack. but right now he's absolutely livid, his eyes are genuinely burning like a thousand suns and you swear you can see smoke coming from his nose and mouth with every breath he takes. the veins on his neck and arms are bulging excessively too, causing you to jump a little when he drags you to him

"don't tell me you guys are a thing." one of toji's eyes spasms as some sort of toxic jealousy overcomes him, a cocky malicious grin forming on his lips

"yeah we're a fucking thing." sukuna sneers, starting to push you behind him as he starts to gets closer to toji

toji snickers, looking over sukuna's figure to get a glimpse of you, "oh pretty baby you have a type."

"don't fuckin talk to her, the fuck are you talking about shit face."

"you guys fucking?" toji looks back at sukuna, unwavering as sukuna almost stands near to chest with him, "maybe you should thank me for the way she can take a mean eight inches, you know, since i taught her to keep going even when she starts whining about how sensitive she is after the first round."

you wince, thinking your boyfriend's surely about to punch him now, but instead he turns a furious gaze to you. fuck toji zenin, fuck toji zenin, fuck toji zenin.

"babe its not what you think," you grab his arm in a panic, the way you've noticed that somehow manages to subdue him, "we never touched each other, it was all over the phone and it was during freshman year."

sukuna whips his head back to loom over the evil man tormenting you, "stay fifty fucking feet away from her at all times."

"or what?" toji snickers again, "can't help it if she comes to me to finally feel what its like to choke on my dick with that cute pussy on my face. hey, tell me 'kuna, does she still kick her feet a little when she cums? cause i always wanted to keep them still when i was watching her fuck hers-"

a fight starts, an legit scary and 'we need to call the cops' type of fight. and you're pretty sure none of these rich kids are used to it because all of them start freaking the fuck out. and you curse the fact that you just had to have had a thing with toji zenin, because out of all the fucking losers you could have been haunted by, it had to be the only other guy as ripped as sukuna. they're just exchanging blows, terrible blows. you remembered that toji did jiu jitsu and you curse at yourself internally, because sukuna can box and knows some mixed martial arts, but its still so fucking stupid because you just had to have fooled around with the only other guy who could actually beat the shit out of someone.

toji's on top of your boyfriend and throws two nasty punches in his face before sukuna leans over and headbutts him so bad, you're pretty sure you hear their skulls crack. then they both get up at the same time, running circles around each other with their fists pulled up, ready to strike at any moment

sukuna's mouth is bleeding and so is his nose, you just now notice. but you don't get to inspect the wounds for much longer when he quickly leans in to land a kick up toji's stomach, whilst the other manages to knock his face in again

you don't realize that you had been standing there in shock like an idiot until nanami, gojo, and suguru rush in. gojo, being the closest to sukuna's height, manages to pull him back by his arms, the same happens to toji with nanami. they're both still rabid, almost escaping the hold their friends have on them. suguru tries to stand in the middle in case one of them does manage to get loose, putting out his arms cautiously.

satoru laughs maniacally, "don't let him ragebait you 'kuna, he's only been back a day."

and you should be worried, but you kinda wish you were toji right now, not because you wanna get beaten up, but sukuna looks...really good like this. he's like a wild animal, licking off the blood from his lips and even spitting it out, crazed eyes making the perfect cherry on top

suguru may have hit on you last week, but he looks at you with a sense of urgency, motioning his head towards sukuna, signaling for you to try and take him away. so you do, trying your best to ignore all the onlooking stares as you go up to your very rabid lover and grab his face.

"ryo, dont let him get to your head," you urge, embarrassed "let's go to my apartment."

he smiles through bloody teeth, eyes pinned on the evil man behind you, "nah im not fucking leaving my own-"

"ryomen," you take his head into your hands harshly, since that's the only thing getting through his stupid thick skull, "let's. go. upstairs."

"come on pres," gojo strains, tired of holding onto him, "don't make your girl mad."

you can see the exact moment sukuna realizes how you're looking at him, his rabid grin falls gradually with the forced eye contact. by then he doesn't struggle as much in his gojo's grip, who carefully starts letting him go. and he doesn't say anything, only huffing as he looms over you menacingly.

"come on." you boss him around, grabbing ahold of his hand and dragging him with you to his room all the way upstairs.

you're pulling him down to kiss you the moment the door to his room closes shut, no care in the world for the blood all over his nose and mouth, in fact getting more spurred by how carnal it is, biting him back more now and looking to lick him clean with your tongue from the inside. he almost topples the both of you over with how much he crouches down to meet you and grab onto your ass harshly, pushing you back until your knees meet his bed.

he pulls away to tug your dress down roughly, so much so that it drags down your bra and panties with it too, and lets you unbuckle his belt and push down his pants while he takes his shirt off.

"you can take a mean eight inches?" he snarls, angry at you as he pushes you onto the bed and crawls on top, wiping off his nose and mouth with his shirt and tossing it away.

"he was talking about a stupid dildo i had," you huff, pulling him back in to kiss you

sukuna pulls away, placing a mean hand on one of your legs and pushes it back, so he can spit on your pussy so vulgarly. "keep your leg up," he says, moving your hands so that they wrap around your thigh and keep your leg back, then puts his hands on either side of your pussy, hands cupped under your ass so he can spread it open with his thumbs.

you said you wanted to be toji earlier? there you go, he's staring at your sticky pussy exactly like that.

"ryo-" slap!

he landed a mean mean spank across your pussy and was now looking back at you again as he harshly ran his middle and ring fingers across your slit vertically, relishing in the way your lips spread open so cutely around them.

"fucking pissed at you."

a mix of desire for him and remorse for your past form a pout on your lips, shaking a little because of how badly you want to touch him instead of being forced to hold yourself open for him, "i'm really sorry ryo, im so sorry, please, i didn't know he was still here, i wouldnt have come if i knew-"

"the fuck kinda shit you do for him?" he's ruthlessly picking up the speed of his ministrations, its overwhelming, especially when your brain can only process the need for him to just fill you up. so he spanks you again to get an answer out of you, no regard for how exactly you're going to muster the words when he goes back to sliding his cruel digits across your slick, "i said, the fuck kinda shit did you do for him."

"please don't make me-" "fucking answer."

you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to not let the feeling of him torturing you disrupt your thinking, "just phone sex ryo. mmmm fuck. i used a dildo that's all."

"doesn't fuckin sound like just phone sex if he's bragging in my fuck ass ear about making you go more than round." he cant control the way his chest rises and falls with such a vehement hatred for the idea of toji having seen you this way, making you feel good, even if he never touched you.

"i thought he liked me okay." you're sniffling a little, guilt pressed onto your brows and practically jumping out of your eyes, actually starting to feel horrible over the fact that something like this came back to bite you in the ass

"oh pretty baby," he leans over your body, still toying with you while his other hand slips to the side of your neck, hooking just under your ear so he can caress your chin with his thumb. he's still fuming, you can tell by his tone when he coddles you, "you're not gonna think i just like you when we're done."

the lust sweeping over your consciousness as a result of his words makes you look down at the way his dick hangs so closely your core. if he would just move his hand he could put it in right now.

"you want it?" he asks, grunting at the way you try to list your hips a little in hopes of feeling it graze you. and you can only nod in response because as soon as he says that, he's slipped his thumb into your mouth. he concentrates a little too hard on the feeling of your tongue rolling around his thumb in circles, like-

"you're so fucking dirty." he snarls through bared teeth, attempting to reject the way you were about to make him melt by finally slipping his fingers into you. your teeth graze his thumb, making the most of your bodily autonomy so you don't bite into it at the feeling of sukuna hooking his fingers up, thrush against your walls and rapidly pressing against it again and again.

"yeah never been fingered this fucking deep have you?"

you haphazardly shake your head, his thumb is barely even in your mouth now, tongue just barely lolling out as noisy lewd moans escape you. his movements against you so intense that your lower body starts to instinctively try to escape his sinful attack on you. but its barely an issue for him, he easily presses his body against you more, adjusting his thigh just a little against your own so you stay still and spread open

"fuck, you're being so good for me baby," he groans, eyes heavy-lidden when he presses his lips against yours, hoping he can taste how sweet you sound when you're keening on the pads of his fingers. his breath is hot and heavy when he says between sloppy kisses, "cum just like this, shit, just like this, need that fucking tight pussy to know who owns it."

and he's so close to getting what he wants, but something about the way he's fingering you is starting to feel familiar. you've only felt this around your dildo, the penetration from something so big and thick being the perfect catalyst for this type of orgasm. even though you've finished that way before, you've never gotten like that from fingering. his hands are genuinely that big, you want to faint.

he's chasing your lips while you heave, "ryo this feels like am gonna squirt, i-"

"fuck," he murmurs desperately firmly into your mouth, uncaring for the fact that he's dragging his cock up and doing against the crease between your thigh and your pussy, "holy shit, fucking squirt all over me princess."

"but-"

"doesn't fucking matter," he starts jackhammering his digits into you, "just fucking do it, get these fingers fucking filthy for me baby, its all i want." it spurs him on even more that you're starting to scream now, like this is some form of torture even though your walls flutter and squeeze around him viscerally, "let them know who's fucking you on his fingers, who's fucking you on them?"

"mmm-!"

"who's finger fucking you this good baby?" he asks again, managing to go even faster than he was before

"you-its you!"

"nah," he pushes deeper into you so hard it pushes you up the pillow your head was on, "say my fucking name."

only expletives leave your mouth, it seems impossible to do what he says when you're moaning and screaming bloody murder

"yeahyeahyeah atta girl fuck, you can do it baby."

"ryomen!" you squeal, hands no longer holding yourself open for him, instead they're clawing at his chest, trying to grasp onto something because you're trapped under him with no where else to go

"yeah," he growls, "fuck you're gonna make me cream your pussy just like this."

the vulgar sentences is what makes you release all over. all over your boyfriend's fingers, his bed, his dick, his thighs, everywhere. your legs have never reacted to this degree either, the calf of the leg he pushed into you swinging forward a bit and landing over his shoulder with a smack. if it hurt or affected him in any way, you wouldn't have known, especially with the way he turns his head over to litter a few kisses on it, eyes closed as he continues finger fucking you through your orgasm, basking in the fact that you just screamed his name for the entire house to hear, even through the music. he has to eat you out now, its killing him, there's no way he can't make you squirt just on his tongue.

sukuna grits his teeth when he finally looks down again. you've actually soaked through the sheets, its like someone just poked a hole in a water bed. his dick twitches when he takes out his fingers and sees your slick hole contract at the loss, and he grabs your chin so you can watch while he sticks his fingers in his mouth and sucks them off clean with a resounding pop! when he takes them out.

"he ever make you cum like that?"

"no." you shake your head weakly, already fucked into submission by his hand

he looks down at his chest, you cut him a little, small red open wounds all over his chest.

"im so-" "taking you to get your nails done tomorrow."

the surprise from his statement wake you up a little from your post-orgasm daze, "why would you want that?"

"think i didn't notice you get turned on with the fuck ass nose bleed on my face?" he questions you, arms casually taking your legs so he can split them wide open as he starts to lower himself on the bed, closer to your pussy. "we're both fucked up angel face."

the tip of his nose is already so close to nuzzling against your clit, "and if i have to live in the same house as that shit face, he's gonna need to see how good im tearing into you every night."

he doesn't lick a stripe or make out with your pussy lips. sukuna pushes his tongue into your pussy, eyes rolling back in ecstasy over just how wet and sticky you are, darting his tongue in as deep as he can in order to catch the slick on his tongue before it drools out of you.

"oh fuck, you're so gooddd." you moan, mouth parting whilst your hand flies to his head and scratches the hair at the top to get his attention, "wait-wait ryo mmfuckshit holyshitfuck."

he's smirking up at you, christ.

you bite your lip, and move slip your other hand on his head so you can draw his attention better, he's still lapping you up while you try to speak, "ryo i wanna try something."

he hums in recognition, refusing to part from you unless there's an emergency

"i wanna suck you off."

he nods, thinking that its just needy dirty talk or something he should let you try after he's done eating you out, but you tug again so he can actually listen to what you're trying to say, "...while i sit on your face."

he stops, finally.

"say that shit again." he says, as if he can't believe what you've just suggested

"i wanna suck you off and sit on your face."

"oh baby."

in a matter of seconds you're being flipped over, losing track of where up and down is before you look down and see yourself straddled over sukuna's face. he's hooked his arms around your thighs and you can see his pretty tan dick eagerly waiting for you across the rocky territory of his abs.

"it's all yours sweet thing," you can't see him, but you can feel the grin against your core when he says, "don't hurt yourself too much."

he doesn't care to wait for you to start, going back to having his own fun between your legs, this time sucking on your lips and licking them languidly. you shiver and squeal, but you lean forward, feeling yourself somehow leak more at the feeling of your nipples against his abs.

he's heavy, really heavy in your palm and the vibration of sukuna groaning against your heat at the softness of your touch makes you delirious. you remember how toji would make you give him a show on the eight inch dildo you owned all the time, he was bossy and sadistic about it and sometimes even if you were horny, you'd be so over it. but right now, you sure hope the practice and twitter threads weren't in vain.

you accumulate as much spit as you can in your mouth before letting drip onto sukuna's tip, immediately bringing a hand up to use it as lubrication to twist your palm around it sloppily, all the meanwhile you dip your head down to mouth and lick messily over the rest of his inches. you giggle lustfully at the way his hips jut at your tampering. but it doesn't last long because you've been fantasizing about his tip for a while, so you spit more on him again, spitting thrice so your hand can move across his shaft easily, and then flick your tongue across his tip, catching some of the precum that was oozing out of him. it was a quick, because you're soon suckling on tip, bobbing your head up and down while also swirling your tongue around it.

"fuckareyou-shitfuck-fuck are you doing down there?"sukuna hisses, frustrated that you're distracting him from his own fun and making him look like an amateur with the way his hips keep pushing up.

maybe you should ignore him like he does with you when you guys do this kinda stuff...yeah you should.

you put both of your hands on his thighs and brace yourself to let all of him feel your mouth. after taking a deep breath and reminding yourself that you're going to have to breathe through your nose, you suck on his tip again, bobbing your head up and down, but begin take to more and more of length into your mouth every time you go back down.

your boyfriend is obviously upset with you, his grip on your thighs hurts and you're pretty sure its unironically going to leave bruises tomorrow, hell maybe even in the next hour. when you squeeze one eye open to look, you see one of his legs shaking, its cute you think. and it's motivation enough for you to ignore the tears forming on your waterline and the burning in your throat for you to take that final stretch. for the fun of it, too, you softly scratch down his thighs when you fully deepthroat him, concentrating on that movement instead of the nine thick inches stretching your mouth and throat wide open.

you lift your head up, gasping, cock hungry with the way you're struggling to breathe but still insistent on kissing and sucking across his tip and shaft, relishing in the strings of spit connecting your mouth to his length. from this angle, you can kinda see his balls twitching. you need him to finish in your mouth, you wanna know what he tastes like so bad. there's no hesitation when you spit into your hand and reach over a little to hold them in your-

he's flipped you over again, his hands pinning yours on either side of your head. there's a spiteful expression on his face, but it doesn't scare you from faking innocence

"what? was it not go-"

"yeah shits not gonna be funny you're screaming in thirty seconds."

"try me." your hips raise, hoping to feel his fat length on your folds

sukuna snickers in disbelief, knowing that he's just giving you what you want either way, "you're fuckin spoiled, needy slut."

the degradation heightens your need for him, but what sukuna likes about you is that you're so sweet and clingy more than you are a brat, as much as you are one, in love with how quickly your features soften when you start to plead, "just let me touch you, i wanna hold you."

a smug grin decorates his mouth, "only if-"

"i'll be good for you okay? want you to fuck me so good i cry."

an eye twitches, he remembers the fact that you aren't even drunk and you're pulling this shit on him again.

"i'll fuck you so good baby, so fucking good." he mutters, finding it hard to contain the need to just destroy you

sukuna lets go of your hands promptly, large palms soon smoothing over the backs of your thighs and pushing them back while your arms loop around his neck. he positions himself so that his cock bobs over your pussy and stomach, trying to make out how deep he's going to be in you. he sees you looking too, balls twitching as a reaction to the way you lick your lips so ravenously. fuck he wonders if that's how you looked sucking the soul out of him.

then your gaze shifts, peering up at him through your pretty eyelashes, "just do the tip first, in and out, wanna feel it like that."

he's gonna throw up, you're going to kill him, this isn't fair

but he listens, nodding instead of saying anything because he's afraid of giving you any more fuel. he doesn't even need to use a hand to guide himself in because the lubrication from your slick oozing out lets him easily catch his tip onto your entrance. he's not gonna survive, just the tip like this is pure torture, it's going to make him cum quickly.

but he has to follow through, heavily concentrated on where the two of you meet instead of looking at your face because he's pretty sure you're going to make him bust with one look in this predicament. with one thrust of his hips forwards, you're sucking his tip in, sultry sweet moans already filling the room. he's so thick and the way he feels teasing you, in and out, is heaven on earth for you. but-

he starts to push in more every time he goes back in, and its not a feeling you dislike, you love it more than anything, its addictive even, just how much you're genuinely being stretched open. how can something so girthy disappear inside a small hole?

"you feel that?" he leans down, face tilted while he examines every movement your face makes with every drag

"mhm," you nod your head, pout on your face already so quickly

there's no resistance from your pussy, so he keeps pushing more and more in easily, how wet do you have to be to take a cock this big so easily. he doesn't even have to give you time to adjust because you just perfectly mold around him, sticky slick walls hugging him in invitation.

he remembers what toji said

"maybe you should thank me for the way she can take a mean eight inches..."

"ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck oh my god ryomen!"

he's all the way in you, completely bottomed out after a ruthless hard thrust, taking no time to pull out and thrust back in exactly how he just did the first time just to start a punishing pace on you. quickly shifting the both of you so that he's further up and your knees basically touch the bed, ass lifted off the bed. his weight punctuating every thrust into you like you're some toy.

"yeah these aren't just eight inches are they baby?"

you feel like you're going to stop breathing, its so deep, you thought it was a metaphor when people said that someone was rearranging their guts, but sukuna's actually doing it. continuous high pitched squeals and a slobbery pap pap sound filling the room, probably even all of upstairs.

"mm-mm" you shake your head, chest tight, frustrated with the fact that you're eager to escape but he's legitimately so much bigger and stronger than you that you just have to exist and take it.

" 's what i thought" he huffs through gritted teeth, eyebrows furrowed at how good your pussy is to him, how good you are, your pretty face in an endearing pout. he can't help but reward you for it. so he starts jackhammering into you like he hates you.

"OH MY GOD FUCK!"

its like a hardcore porno is going on in sukuna's room. you're violently clawing at his arms, actually drawing a decent amount of blood and staining your nails

"that's my girl, there you go baby," sukuna heaves, sweat beads building up on his forehead, "god-fuckyes take this fat fucking dick, fuckfuckfuck shit fuck."

he needs you closer, he need more than this

in a rush, sukuna pulls out and stands up, dragging you off the bed and into his arms so he can lift you up and start fucking into you aggressively, his nails stinging on your ass from how brutishly he's holding onto you to use you like a fucktoy. he starts to lick and suck vulgarly all over your neck, spit being spread everywhere, and his teeth sink in whenever he jackhammers just a little more into you

"ohmygod shit iloveyouiloveiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou!" you squeal, too fucked out to realize what exactly it is you just said

"i fucking love you too pretty baby fuck sogoodforme sloppy little hole can't stop sucking me in."

words have always been your weakness

so its no surprise when you cum again soon after he says that, squirting all over, the pressure from your pussy clamping down driving sukuna to the brink of insanity as he pushes past it and feels like he's about to burst

"look at me pretty girl, fuck, look at me, let me see that pretty fucking face cumming from my cock."

both of you bear the same expression of scrunched eyebrows and parted mouths while he keeps fucking you onto him, lewdly leaning into to lick the other's mouth when the other gasps for more breath. and you're both significantly sweatier now, bearing a semblance to two people who just got water dumped all over them. it makes your tits slide and squish against his chest crudely, the feeling of your slippery nipples against him causing his stomach to drop

"shityesyesyesyesyesyesyes fuck come here."

he throws you onto the bed again, this time propping you onto your side and lifting up your leg so he can slip in from the back. his other hand reaches out from under you to squeeze your chest, pinching your nipple between his thumb and middle finger while he moves you a bit further up so he can suck greedily on your other nipple.

already accustomed to just having him inside you even if it was breaking you apart, you hug him closer with one hand reaching up to scrape and tug at the hair on the back of his head

"ryo-ryo," you squeal, "its too much aw fuckfuck!"

"i know baby, i know, just keep taking it" he heaves

the position takes your breath away, but it lets you think just a little more. just enough to babble whatever's the first thing to come to mind, instead of moaning and screaming.

"you're so big ryo, can feel you stretch my pussy all the way to the brim. fuck you're gonna make me cum again"

"gonna need you forever, need your dick stretching out my pussy forever, nothing's ever gonna compare, pussy's all yours ryo, your little toy, use it anytime you want"

can you shut up can you shut up

"stop fucking talking im gonna cum," he grunts, squeezing his eyes shut so he can control himself

"yes! please cum with me please please please," you tug his hair harder in an attempt to bring him closer to you, "need your load filling me up please."

"fuck fuck."

and then you bring a hand down to rub your clit, which makes you grip around him even tighter

"please baby," you whine, "need it so bad wanna feel your big fat load leak out of me just so you can fuck it back in again."

"awfuckohmygod ryo im cumming" "fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck."

you don't even care too much about that fact that you're cumming, you're too absorbed in the feeling of how he spurts hot warm cum into you with every stutter of his hips, eyes rolling back when you manage to catch a view of the way you can physically see his shaft tense and release as he releases into you.

sukuna's holding onto you for support in the aftermath of his own orgasm, letting go of your leg and still inside you when he pulls you flush against him, the way you were sleeping last night actually.

one of your shaky hands holds onto his bicep

"i lov-"

you realized what you were about to say.

how did that even make it past the security check in your brain

and you just realized you said it during

a lot

sukuna kisses your shoulder tenderly

"still think i just like you?"

[kaccharine]

your bf's soccer match

🪼 — bkg. k x f!reader | quirkless-college au | fluff | one shot

Synopsis: Katsuki as your boyfriend, who invited you to one of his soccer matches, where girls from other schools thought you were just another delusional fan pretending to be his girlfriend.

from the head canons ; ⤷ katsuki as your college boyfriend

It’s the first game of the season and the university stadium is packed with students from different schools, all dressed in their respective team colors while carrying banners in support of their players. Cheers and murmurs echo through the crowd, blending in with the announcer’s voice over the speakers before the match officially begins.

It took a few minutes of weaving through the crowd before you finally spotted your section, scanning the rows one last time until your eyes landed on the three empty seats at the front.

“Over there—” You pointed towards the front row.

Mina looked at the direction of your finger before replying enthusiastically. “And we got the best seat in the house!”

“I know, right?!” You laughed, hurrying down the steps. 

“We’re near the team too.” Kyoka said in awe, glancing towards the players’ bench just a few meters away.

“I should thank your boyfriend for this.” Mina said, giving your shoulder a playful shove.

You couldn’t help smiling as you settled down into your seat. A few days ago, Katsuki had casually shoved the tickets into your hands, telling you to bring your friends if you wanted. Although, you hadn’t expected to get seats this close to the field— especially to your team’s players. So here you were, sitting alongside Mina and Kyoka at some of the best seats in the stadium.

“Your boyfriend’s ridiculously popular.” Kyoka said.

You glanced around the stadium, noticing a lot of girls wearing Yuuei University’s team jersey, with its signature navy blue and white accents scattered throughout the crowd. Some had different players’ names printed on their backs, most likely jerseys they’d bought from the university store— unlike yours.

Yours had been given by Katsuki himself.

Just this morning, before he went to university to prepare for the match, he’d insisted for you to wear his away-jersey instead. And unlike the team’s usual navy blue uniform, the away jersey was predominantly white with navy blue accents— a design the team rarely wore. So it stood out effortlessly in the crowd of navy blues filling the stadium, and across your back were the words:

BAKUGOU       10

“Wear this.”

“Your away-jersey?”

“People should know who you’re cheerin’ for.”

“Maybe I should scream your name while I’m at it.”

“Good. I should hear it when I’m on the other side.”

“I’m joking—”

“And I’m not.”

Your train of thought was interrupted by the sudden thunderous cheers of the crowd. Your eyes drifted towards the left stadium entrance just as the Yuuei soccer team jogged onto the field and towards the bench area.

At the very front of the group was Katsuki. The captain’s armband clung to his beefy left arm, while a black headband pushed his ash-blond hair away from his face— and he looked insanely hot. Unfortunately, you weren’t the only one who noticed.

“Bakugou looks so hot!”

“I’d let him yell at me.”

“I heard he has a girlfriend.”

“That’s right— it’s me.”

“You wish!”

“Sorry girls, but I'm the girlfriend.”

The group burst into laughter, joking among themselves, and the three of you heard every word.

“Oh… if only they knew.” Mina murmured while you simply smiled to yourself.

As the team gathered near the bench for the coach’s final instructions, Katsuki’s eyes drifted towards the stands, sweeping across countless faces looking for someone. And when his eyes landed on you, he smiled— clearly satisfied with you wearing his jersey.

“Did you see that?”

“Oh my god!”

“He smiled at me!”

“No! He smiled at me.”

“He was totally looking at me.”

“I literally made eye contact with him.”

“I told you I’m the girlfriend!”

Mina and Kyoka beside you snickered while you bit the inside of your cheek just to keep yourself from laughing. 

As the match started, a sharp whistle echoed throughout the stadium, and the crowd erupted into cheers as both teams rushed into action. The ball moved swiftly from one player to another, then a clean pass found its way to Katsuki.

And without thinking— you stood up from your seat.

“GO KATSUKI!”

Several nearby students glanced your way, especially the group of girls sitting behind you.

“Did she just call him Katsuki?”

“How dare she!”

“Who is she to use his given name like that?”

Mina slowly turned her head just enough to glare at them before looking back at you.

“Don’t mind them.”

“They’re just gonna embarrass themselves.” Kyoka said, already looking annoyed by the group of girls.

If only they knew.

You ignored them simply because they had no idea you were the actual girlfriend. After all, this was the first game of the season— first official match with Katsuki as the team captain. It’s also the first match you attended as his girlfriend. Not a lot of people knew about your relationship yet.

Unfortunately, just because you ignored them, doesn’t mean the comments were going to stop.

“The audacity to wear an away-jersey too.”

“I bet she had that customized.”

“Exactly! Since the university only sells navy-blue ones.”

“That’s so delulu of her.”

Kyoka, sitting beside you, looked like she was seconds away from standing up.

“Just say the word, I’ll punch them.”

“Kyoka, it’s fine—”

You simply smiled to yourself and kept your eyes on the field. No amount of whispering from strangers was going to ruin your excitement over watching Katsuki. If anything, it only made you cheer louder.

“GO ON DARLING!”

After more than 90 minutes of the match, the final whistle rang across the stadium, followed by the explosion of cheers from the home crowd. 

Yuuei had won. 

Students cheered loudly while waving their banners in celebration. The Yuuei team players gathered near the bench, patting one another on the back and pulling each other for a hug. Katsuki joined in the celebration, accepting the congratulations with his signature smug smirk, clearly satisfied with the way their team won— in pure dominance.

Without a hint of embarrassment, you shouted as loudly as you could.

“THAT’S MY HONEY!”

Mina immediately burst into laughter while Kyoka just snickered beside you. They both knew you shouted just to rile up the girls who have been talking shit about you the whole game.

“She’s never gonna stop, is she?”

“I’m so embarrassed for her.”

“She really thinks she’s Bakugou’s girlfriend.”

“Even I could never.”

You ignored them for the hundredth time, too busy being happy with Yuuei’s victory to care.

As the team finished celebrating together, the players turned towards the crowd and thanked everyone who supported them before making their way back to their locker room.

And instead of following his team, Katsuki broke away and jogged towards your direction.

“Hold on…”

“He’s coming over here.”

“Oh my god!”

Within seconds, the group of girls frantically reached out for their make up kits, reapplying their blushes and lipsticks while hurriedly fixing their hair, desperate to look their very best for Katsuki.

Your Katsuki.

“How do I look?”

“Is my collar crooked?”

“Fix my stray hairs please!”

“I told you he was smiling at us!”

“He totally saw how pretty we are.”

The moment Katsuki reached your section, you stepped away from your seat and walked towards the railing. Katsuki waited for you on the other side of the barrier, one hand casually resting on the railing as he slightly looked up to you.

“So…” A faint smile tugged at his lips, “Did you enjoy the game?”

“Of course!” You nodded excitedly while smiling at him. “You were so cool out there.”

His signature smug smirk only grew.

“Yeah?” He tilted his head slightly while raising a brow at you. “Where’s my congratulations kiss?”

“In here?!”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Haah… seriously.” 

You sighed and rolled your eyes at him. 

Despite your initial embarrassment, you leaned over the railing anyway, gently cupped his cheek before giving a quick kiss to his lips.

When you pulled away, you saw Katsuki with his grin even wider than before. Not giving a single care to anyone who watched him kiss his girlfriend.. In fact, it only inflated his ego knowing everyone had witnessed it.

Behind you, the group of girls stood frozen in shock, their eyes wide and mouths hanging open. Mina and Kyoka, on the other hand, are exchanging amused glances with each other, just watching everything unfold.

“...No way.”

“No fucking way.”

“Did she just…”

“Kissed Bakugou?!”

“That should have been me.”

“Do you think she heard all of that?”

Kyoka just burst into laughter, finally giving up trying to hold it in while Mina looked back at the girls with a grin.

“You bet we did!

All that endless chatter, Katsuki heard every single one of it. He glanced past your shoulder towards the group behind you. A smirk painted his face as he pieced together what had been happening all game.

Then he drifted his attention back to you and without sparing a moment, pulled you closer over the railing.

“Wait, Katsu—”

Before you could finish, Katsuki kissed you again, much longer than the first kiss you gave him. Long enough for your blood to rise up to your cheeks, and especially long enough for those girls behind you to finally realize how wrong they had been.

And when he was fully satisfied, Katsuki pulled away.

“Maybe that’ll shut them up.”

爆豪 勝己 — back to the main masterlist ⊹ ࣪ ˖🫧

(⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡ taglist for anything katsuki: @moritas-tiny-theatre @yoloforlifeee

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © my hero academia, horikoshi. © middle artwork, oroshi_mi from twitter. KACCHARINE — anything in here is written by me. do not copy, feed to ai, or repost anywhere.

[hueningchai]

part 2 here.

. . . you’ve heard of him before. sukuna. you knew that apparently, he loved to fuck around with girls, mostly at parties, and got in trouble most of the time because he was a typical fratboy.

he never noticed you, and you never noticed him despite hearing about him from your friend after they spent a night with him.

the first time he actually saw you, was in his English Comp class, where you always raised your hand to answer the professor’s questions. Sukuna noticed how you seemed nothing like the girls he was used to, both personality wise and looks.

didn’t mean you weren’t cute to him.

the first time he tried to charm you (because he was just built like that, of course), it failed miserably.

you were walking down the hallway, talking to the same friend who hooked up with sukuna, when he tapped your shoulder.

you turned around, looking up at him.

“. . . yes?”

he looked down at you, seeing how your cheeks were just so naturally chubby, how you looked so cute—

“wanna go out with me? the ladies say I’m pretty good.” he noticed the girl beside you, looking smug.

a few awkward, slient seconds passed before you responded.

“thanks but uh, I’ll pass. I don’t know you, try another day.” you suppressed a chuckle, glancing at your friend, giving her that look.

so much for a first impression. he’ll just have to try harder.

[kaccharine]

katsuki as your college bf

🪼 — bkg. k x f!reader | quirkless-college au | fluff | headcanons

★ College bf!Katsuki who is in his third year of college, taking up engineering. He’s also been part of the soccer team since his freshman year, and now that he’s a junior, he has become the team’s captain.

★ College bf!Katsuki who is two years older than you. He’s also your neighbor, so you’ve known each other for years. And since you’re younger than him, his friends— aside from Izuku, don’t know much about you and your relationship with Katsuki. They only get to know you once you start attending the same university as them, finally putting a face to the person Katsuki had been talking about sometimes.

★ College bf!Katsuki who has been insanely popular with the ladies from different departments since his freshman year. They’d slip love letters into his locker or sometimes personally hand him an energy drink after practice. Unfortunately for them, Katsuki flatly rejected every confession, saying there was already someone else.

★ College bf!Katsuki who somehow created a rumor during his second year, about him having a girlfriend because he kept rejecting everyone who confessed to him. What they don’t know is that he wanted you to become his girlfriend so badly— he just never had the courage to ask you out.

★ College bf!Katsuki who finally got the courage to ask you out on a date right before you entered college. So when the first day of classes came— with him as a junior and you as a freshman, people were surprised to see Katsuki walking around campus with a girl without his usual grumpy expression.

★ College bf!Katsuki who never actually tells anyone he has a girlfriend. People figure it out by watching how he interacts with you— they just connect the dots. They finally understand why Katsuki has been rejecting those girls all this time. And whenever his friends or classmates ask him if the two of you are dating, he just answers with a casual “yeah.”

★ College bf!Katsuki who insists on walking you to your class while carrying your bag if it gets too heavy with your laptop and books. Sometimes, he’s even seen holding a small paper bag from a nearby cafe with your favorite pastry inside. Him walking you to class would occasionally make him late by three minutes, but none of his teachers care since he’s always at the top of the class anyway.

★ College bf!Katsuki who intimidates any guy who gets too close or flirty with you. He quietly hovers behind you whenever someone is taking too much of your time, making them know you’re taken by subtly resting a hand on your lower back or around your waist.

★ College bf!Katsuki who isn’t a big fan of PDA but gladly holds your hand or rests an arm over your shoulders when you walk together. And if the hallway is getting too crowded, he’ll walk in front of you, holding your hand as he guides you through the crowd.

★ College bf!Katsuki who knows all the quiet spots around campus. He’ll take you there whenever you both have an hour or two between classes just to relax together. It’s also where he can hug you, hold you, or steal a kiss without a lot of people watching,

★ College bf!Katsuki who waits for your classes to end every day. Since he has a soccer practice after his own classes, he can’t walk you home, so he waits until you’re dismissed just to say goodbye properly before heading to practice.

★ College bf!Katsuki who sometimes asks you to wait for him until practice is over. Usually, you’ll sit on a nearby bench doing your school or watching the team scrimmage. And during water breaks, he’ll jog over and sit beside you under the excuse of taking a drink— where he purposely left his water bottle with you just so he could come over.

★ College bf!Katsuki who tutors you in the subjects you’re not good at. It’s common knowledge that Katsuki is incredibly smart, constantly ranking in the top three of the engineering department. Although, what’s surprising is how good he is at teaching. He’ll take you back to his dorm and patiently teach you through every problem until you understand it. He’ll then leave you completely flustered when he compliments you every now and then— “good girl.”

★ College bf!Katsuki who takes you out to your favorite diners whenever you ace a major quiz or an exam, saying it’s a celebration for surviving and studying hard. And if you try to tell him he doesn’t have to “reward” you every time, he’ll just brush it off and say you earned it.

★ College bf!Katsuki who sometimes sits in on your classes whenever he has free time. He’s not there to disrupt the class or distract you from learning— he just sits beside you, quietly working on his own assignments or projects.

★ College bf!Katsuki who knows your entire schedule by heart even though you never gave him a copy of it. He just memorized it after walking you to class so many times. So whenever he hears that one of your professors canceled a lecture, he’ll immediately text you to ‘meet me at the spot.’

★ College bf!Katsuki who takes you to every one of his soccer matches. He insists that you wear his away-jersey and makes sure you sit near his team’s bench. And before every match officially begins, he’ll come over to collect what he calls his “good luck kiss.”

★ College bf!Katsuki who also takes you to every after-party whenever his team wins. He stays by your side most of the night, but if you insist on him having fun with his friends, he’ll make sure you’re always within his line of sight, making sure you’re safe and enjoying with your girl friends.

★ College bf!Katsuki who always has a black hair tie around his left wrist because you kept forgetting yours. He knows how annoyed you get whenever strands of hair fall into your face while you’re trying to take notes, or when the heat and sweat makes your hair stick to the back of your neck. And just when you start looking for your hair tie, you remember you forgot it again for the nth time. Without fail, Katsuki will give you the one from his wrist.

★ College bf!Katsuki who makes bento boxes for the both of you. The two of you always eat together at your favorite lunch spot. 80% of the time, Katsuki cooks something spicy. At first, you could only handle the milder version of his cooking, but now your spice tolerance is waaay higher. What you don’t know is that he’s been increasing the spice level just a little everyday.

爆豪 勝己 — back to the main masterlist ⊹ ࣪ ˖🫧

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © my hero academia, horikoshi. © left artwork, cherrybombexe on instagram. © middle artwork, weenizzzz on twitter. KACCHARINE — anything in here is written by me. do not copy, feed to ai, or repost anywhere.

[paetalks]

noise complaint

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ in which sukuna ryomen is in a band, has an intimidating aura, and a crush on his nephew’s babysitter. who hates him. deeply.

cursed frequency / the sisterhood of the traveling vape

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track #20 - the end

enemies to lovers kind of (i’m trying), curse words, cigarettes, man hating, mdni </3 disregard timestamps

[kaiiswrld]

texts w dilf toji as his kids teacher

minors dni

[crunchypizabread]

ExHusband!Toji headcanon in which he wants his wife back (sfw, fluff)

ExHusband!Toji was a stark contrast from the man you married six years ago. He had a steady job now, light in his eyes, and was always the first to spoil baby Megumi rotten.

ExHusband!Toji shared custody, but somehow found reasons to show up 5 to 6 times a week, always "just to see Megumi," never mentioning the way his eyes lingered concerningly on your limp leg first.

ExHusband!Toji had a habit of dragging up university, talking about the apartment you shared, the awful cheap ramen you both survived on. And he always ended with the same line of “I miss the simple version of life with just us two.”

ExHusband!Toji was too afraid to voice out his reconciliation attempts outright, so he'd send 6 y/o Megumi home with a peony bouquet "for mama" instead.

ExHusband!Toji tucked a blanket over you when you fell asleep on the couch, pressing a kiss to your forehead like muscle memory, only to disappear into the guest room right next door to sleep alone.

ExHusband!Toji would go quiet and tight-jawed, painfully watching your neighbor flirt with you at your front door, fists clenched like he wanted to punch the guy for wanting to be with his (ex) wife.

ExHusband!Toji started using his evenings to stock your fridge and scrub your house clean before your night shifts ended, baby Megumi trailing behind him and scattering a mess of Legos he’d keep having to clean up.

ExHusband!Toji would release the tension from your shoulders with his calloused hands, lingering a minute too long during what was supposed to be a ‘quick’ massage. Neither of you would move, both of you secretly wanting more.

ExHusband!Toji would panic at a single undelivered text, certain that you blocked him and finally closed the door on him for good.

ExHusband!Toji left a new jacket in your closet the day after he noticed a hole in your old one, not realizing that you liked the old one because it had memories of you both when you wore it as a cover-up during your dates with him. 

ExHusband!Toji's hand stayed wrapped around yours a little longer than needed after you'd already found your balance on the crutches as he helped you out of your car.

ExHusband!Toji kept replaying you finally hugging him first, years after the divorce. It was unprompted and he’dd frozen in your embrace, as your murmured how much you missed him. 

ExHusband!Toji would make baby Megumi the same quiet promise every night, that one day he'd bring his mama home for good (meanwhile Megumi only cared about his dad being a new playmate for his Legos).

a/n: since y'all liked the husband kuna one so much, i figured i'd feed the toji girls right this time 🤭 +1 my freaky aah would be the one running back to toji after the divorce let's be sooo fr

glitter divider by: @pixopix

[kora-kiroshi]

Art from to00fu! ✦.cw : stalking, toxic dynamics, sex

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna seeing you for the first time at that trashy frat party. His eyes are locked on you from across the room, his knuckles white as he grips his red solo cup, completely losing his mind the second he clocks you.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna walking up to you with that cocky, arrogant smirk that usually works every damn time. He tries to pressure you into going upstairs to his room right then and there, but you hit him with such an ice-cold, disgusted look that his ego practically shatters. You just turn your back on him, leaving him standing there looking like a fucking clown.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna trying to save face by circling back with a fresh drink for you, but you don’t even spare him a glance. You step around him like he’s just another piece of trash in the hallway, and he’s left feeling like a total loser, watching your back as you walk away.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna spending the rest of the night pretending to listen to his bros bragging about football, but in reality, he’s tracking your every move. He doesn’t even realize how much of a creep he looks, neck craned awkwardly just to keep you in sight.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna watching you laugh at some other guy’s joke. A sick, stinging envy curls in his chest, making him want to howl.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna waking up the next morning with a pounding head, but he doesn't give a shit about the hangover. You’re the only thing consuming his thoughts.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna grilling everyone on campus—from RAs to terrified freshmen—until he finds out your major and what classes you like, typing every detail into the Notes app like a total stalker.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna digging up your socials in one night, scouring your TikTok likes to see what kind of guys you’re into. When he finds a video of some guy who is his total opposite, he lets out a pathetic, guttural groan and buries his face in his pillow.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna liking every single one of your posts, praying you’ll notice his pathetic efforts and follow him back. When you don't, he just ends up getting blackout drunk with Toji again.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna trying a new approach by kissing up to your friends to get any scrap of info on you. He grumbles under his breath—mentally sulking like a kicked puppy—when you spot his desperate attempts and shoo him away. He drops his head and slinks off, feeling like a beaten dog.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna refusing to give up, finally changing his entire class schedule just so he can sit next to you. Now, he gets to stare at you every single day.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna haunting you twelve hours a day. He’s in the library, the dining hall, outside your dorm. He notices your eye twitching, the way you keep looking over your shoulder, growing more and more paranoid. But he can’t stop. He’s fucking obsessed.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna sitting in his room at night, jerking off to your photos. His hand tightens around his cock to the rhythm of his ragged breathing, his lips silently forming your name, terrified to actually say it out loud.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna overhauling his wardrobe to match the aesthetic of the guys you post on TikTok, desperate for a shred of your attention.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna refusing to quit. At the next party, he approaches you again, fully expecting to get shut down. He cracks a stupid, nervous joke, and then—you smile. His heart skips a beat, and he breaks into an idiotic, lovesick grin.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna feeling his jeans grow painfully tight when you casually take a drag of his cigarette, your lips brushing against his fingers.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna blushing to the tips of his ears when you’re wasted and press into him for warmth by the bonfire. He’s too scared to even put an arm around you, so he just stands there, stiff as a board, inhaling the scent of your hair and praying this moment lasts forever.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna trying to play the gentleman while walking you to your dorm. He keeps his hand on your waist, but his fingers are burning with the urge to slip lower, to the panties he’s dying to pull off. He holds back because you’re drunk, and he wants you to remember him as something more than just another horny prick.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna falling asleep with a massive, dopey smile on his face after seeing that you finally followed him back on everything.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna getting off to your simple text, "You were sweet," his cock throbbing in his hand as he texts back, "Did you like it?" When you send a drunk voice note whining about how much you love it when he acts like a pathetic simp for you, he cums so hard his body jerks off the bed.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna stalking you across campus the next day. When you finally reach out and touch his shoulder, he craves nothing more than for you to never let go.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna becoming your personal pack mule, carrying your books, waiting outside every single one of your classes to walk you home. You smile at him, and his entire world starts and ends with you.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna barely holding it together when you send him spicy photos. His hand goes straight to his pants, but he forces himself to reply with something witty, even though his skin is crawling with the need to rip your clothes off and pin you to the wall.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna sending you a video of him jerking off and whining for you when you ask for proof. When you reply with a photo of your dripping pussy, he drowns his phone screen in his own cum.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna refusing to leave your side at the next frat party. His eyes are practically begging you to stay when you mention wanting to talk to your friends. (His bros roast him for it. He couldn't care less.)

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna feeling his heart soar when you lean into his ear and whisper that you want to fuck. His breath hitches and his hands shake with pure anticipation as he drags you to his room, already picturing you beneath him.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna waiting for your permission, hovering over you, tugging at the hem of your shirt. He’s breathing hard, inhaling your scent, terrified of messing up. The second you nod, he’s tearing your clothes off.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna worshipping your pussy, licking you with pure, feral reverence. His cock is so hard he’s ready to blow his load just from the sound of your first moan.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna damn near coming the second he slides inside you. His eyes roll back, his hips moving on instinct. He hears your scream, and it drives him faster, deeper, his nails digging into your back.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna begging you to let him go faster, his voice cracking as you scratch his back in time with his rough thrusts. He’s pounding into you so hard the bed frame is practically screaming against the wall.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna bending you over, lips pressed against your ear as he whines about how long he’s wanted you, how he’s obsessed over you every single night. His voice trembles as he asks if he’s doing it right, if you like the way he’s fucking you, scared to death that you’ll tell him to stop.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna letting out a quiet, wrecked moan when you squeeze his cock too tight, his hips bucking into your hands, desperate for release.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna finishing with a loud, guttural groan, spilling himself deep inside you. He watches you, broken and satisfied, before collapsing on top of you, gasping for air.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna holding you tight afterward, arms wrapped around you so you can’t leave. He pretends to be asleep, terrified that if he opens his eyes, you’ll have disappeared.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna grinning like the biggest simp on earth when you kiss him in the morning, leaving your panties on his pillow with a promise that you’ll do it again. He grabs your hips, begging you not to go, his eyes shining with pure, unadulterated hope.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna, who is obviously going to ask you on a date tomorrow and spend the entire time begging you to let him bury his face back between your thighs and lick your dripping pussy until you’re coming all over his face.

Do not repost, copy, plagiarize, translate, or feed my work into AI in any form!)

[minayans]

Damn sure I’ll never let you know where you stand.

Frat AU Hockey!Gojo who is the captain of the hockey team—and insufferably handsome—is wrapped around the campus shy girl’s finger, unintentionally so, he was intending on having her clinging onto him. But oh how the tables have turned when she's the one playing with him. Inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's: Don't worry, I'll make you worry.

Tags: [MDNI] porn with plot, hate sex, missionary, fucking against a locker, exhibionism (?), breeding, p in v raw, praise kink if you look hard enough for it, oral (f receiving).

You do and will do just about anything BUT put up with the hockey captain’s bullshit.

Six months ago you became the victim of your college’s biggest star, Gojo Satoru.

You don’t really know why or how it even started. Just that one day, you entered your typical high-school playboy’s radar who hasn’t grown out of being immature and insufferable

He’s a Tokyo prodigy, grew up rich like they all apparently do and unfortunately for you, with enough looks to put up with his cocky attitude.

And somehow that’s the worst part. The idiot can flaunt left and right his greatness because the world just works in his favor. Despite his riches too, he’s on a full ride at JJKU for hockey just to rub salt into the wound even deeper.

So when he approached you half a year ago on a random day in October back in the library, catching you in an all nighter, knee deep in some math homework, you smelled lt the fishiness from miles away.

What was he doing talking to you?

You, who does not study anything that has to do with sports or his world or who doesn’t even want to do anything with his side of paradise.

You, who has never had a boyfriend and never peaked in high-school, who surely isn’t interested right now in getting to know anyone that isn’t the response to your math sheet exercises.

And you who most definitely was not about to get played by the school’s pretty boy.

Gojo was clad in a dark blue sweatshirt with the school’s logo slapped on the front, messy white hair under the pulled up hood, glasses sliding off his nose bridge despite it being three in the morning and matching sweatpants.

Looking entirely too good—objectively so—when you know he doesn’t even have to try to look that way.

You had moved onto a rathole for a research essay, something professor Gakuganji swore he could not leave class before assigning when Gojo finally stopped beating around the bush.

He strolled over, smacking his chewing gum against his molars over and over again—way too loudly for someone in a library—and rooted himself by your messy desk where papers were scattered all over and your face was illuminated by the artificial light of your laptop.

With your earbuds plugged in, of course you didn’t take notice of the towering 6 foot 3 menace looming over you from behind.

But one poke on your shoulder and your soul almost left your body. Instantly your face reddened, a fresh tomato shade spreading across your cheeks, ears and neck.

And Satoru, laughed. Like he wasn’t in your personal space—a stranger’s personal space.

You remember how your first encounter went with him.

Plucking out one of your earbuds just in time to hear him say:

“What’cha doin?”

Just what was he doing?

You hesitated before replying. “Um, studying?”

His eyes rolled back over his glasses. “Duh, what else do you do at a library?” Not liking his response, or whatever this conversation was, you slightly nodded at the time and began to turn back around.

“Hey! Don’t turn around! We haven’t finished, tell me your name.” Embarrassment, pure and unfiltered embarrassment ran down your spine at the loudness of his voice. Squirming in your seat from the looks he’s attracted, you whisper back. “Why should I tell you my name?”

His lip caught in between his teeth as he pondered a reason, a second later a smile came on his face.

“Because I want us to get to know eachother-”

You cut him off. “Can you quiet down-”

“Gojo. Gojo Satoru.” He finished for you, wide smile plastered on his face. All pearly whites showing.

You sighed, realizing he wouldn’t let you go so easily. “Nice to meet you Gojo, I’m L/N Y/N.”

At the time, you assumed that if you gave him what he wanted now, he would disappear with it and then you’d lay low enough for him to completely forget about you.

Oh how you were wrong.

Monday morning, October 27th, not even a week after the encounter you see a tall figure that has never been inside of your statistics class walk in.

Oh no.

Said figure walked up right to where you were sitting, row seven at the far back to be invisible, and plopped down right next to you instead of the thirteen other chairs.

The backpack that was slung over his shoulder unceremoniously fell down on the chair, a plop noise reaching your ear before his lanky body turned to face you.

“Good morning, Y/N!”

That was when the rumours started.

Gojo Satoru knows the quiet girl at the back? Has our time finally come? What is going on?

You tried to physically disappear. He kept showing up.

Tuesday 28. Laptop open infront of you, essay halfway done, a freshly brewed warm cup of coffee by your notes, perfect cinnamon roll sitting by it.

It was the perfect evening. The perfect balance between studying and relaxing.

Then the door chime rung, a figure ducked under the door, and before you could even catch up to his face, you knew your evening was ruined.

He didn’t even try to act like he came for a drink, aiming for your table at the back immediately when he recognised you amidst the faces.

“Y/N! What a coincidence, saw you from outside and came to say hi.”

“Hi.” You quietly muttered back.

A frown came from him. “Have you forgotten my name already?” His lips turned downwards like you personally hurt him.

Taking a sip of your coffee, you licked your upper lip to get rid of the foam that clung onto them and slowly shook your head no.

“Good evening, Gojo.”

Satisfied, he smiled. Doing a quick once-over, he then began itching closer to you and angling himself to see what was on your computer.

“Still working on that essay?”

“Yeah.” You breathed out, feeling the ends of his pale hair brush against your shoulder from how hunched over he is.

Picking at your cinnamon roll with your fork caught his eye. And he ended up eating your cinnamon roll while pestering your occupied mind with topics that left you with no idea what he was talking about.

Wednesday. He coincidentally shops at the same grocery store you do. One peek at his shopping cart—candy, candy, donuts, condoms—and you know his excuse of “What a coincidence, you shop here too?” Is bullshit.

And your decision to not fall for his tricks tenfold.

A few awkward interactions from your sides here and there, you mainly brushed him off until Thursday.

Thursday morning you saw him in statistics again. Green hoodie swallowing his torso, loose fit jeans, same bag thrown over his shoulder—seemingly empty.

It was empty. He asked you for a pen and you gave him one. Where was the harm in lending a classmate a pen when in need?

Except, you lent a pen to Gojo.

It shouldn’t have surprised you when he showed up that same evening at 11 P.M. at your door when you were in your tiny pyjamas , lounging around—not thinking about anyone coming to bother you.

Wrong, one look through the peephole and your world came crashing down. You answered the door with a blanket covering your body.

“Gojo… What are you doing here at this hour..?” You asked, looked around the corridor to see if anyone else caught sight of him.

The campus pretty boy cannot be caught at the girls dorms especially not after 6 P.M. so you were mortified some para social fangirl would find him here and ruin your life.

He shrugged and pulled out a pencil from his back pocket. “I came to bring you your pen!” Exclaiming way too loudly for the time it was.

“And I have to ask you something.” Suddenly he turned serious.

After a second of chewing on your inner lip and pondering whether you should let him in, you do.

You kindly asked him “Do you want something to drink?”

“Anything is fine.” So you opted to make him some tea, figuring that whatever he was about to say would take some time.

He dramatically fell down on the couch, you sat on the other keeping your legs tucked under yourself.

You both sat in silence for a minute while he took a look around your apartment. Observing the fairy lights hung around the ceiling, the portraits you have of who he assumes is your family, the simple trinkets you have around the apartment.

Finally, the silence broke when he said “So, I wanted to invite you to my party Friday.” He simply said, as if you were someone who went to those functions.

So you ask him, “Do I look like someone who would go to parties? Much less your parties, Gojo?”

His face comically scrunched up, as if your words had winced him. Though you knew they didn’t when his facial muscles fell into a frown.

“Ouch. What’s wrong with my parties?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “They have a reputation.”

A grin jumped onto his face. “Of being the best, I’m aware.”

Eerily smiling, he took a sip of his chamomile tea and cringed, “Jesus, do you have sugar? This tastes like grass.” while you thought about your next words.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Seems like you had hit a nerve with that because his eyes jumped out of their sockets at that. “What the hell do you mean whatever helps me sleep at night? My parties are the best-”

“The answer is no, Gojo-”

Apparently he didn’t like the sound of his name spilling from your lips either. “Satoru.”

You grimaced, “I’ve known you for a week max.”

His head fell sideways, “So?”

Internally, you groaned. “So, I’m not going.”

“Oh come onnn, leave this place for a while will ya? My party is going to be-”

“Gojo—

“Satoru.” He corrects.

“—you don’t even know me-”

“I will! Come to my party.”

It’s late, almost midnight. You’re not dressed to host but there’s a 6 foot 3 playboy on your couch begging you to come to his party when the most he probably knows about you is your apartment complex and living room.

A heavy sigh presses past your lips. “Fine.”

Almost as if your words were the on button to disneyland, Satoru lights up. “You’ll come?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s a yes.”

“Maybe is a maybe.”

Maybe turned out to be a yes.

“Girl, why are you even doing this?”

Mei mei is the most superficial, materialistic, bratty, unloyal—the list unfortunately could go on—friend you have. But she's actually the only social butterfly from your acquaintances that actually goes to parties.

So she's the only one you can go to for these kinds of functions. It's needless to say that you are dreading spending the night attached to her hip, which leads you to the same question she's actually asking you.

Why are you doing this?

You don't owe Gojo Satoru a single minute of your time. For fucks sake, you don't know the man. Parties aren't even your thing. So why are you dressed in Sally from Toy story's costume while Mei Mei readjusts her tiny—leaving little to the imagination—scandalously short euphoria-themed dress that has you swallowing bundles of nervousness at her possibly flashing someone with any minor movement?

Deciding that no matter how long you ponder the question, you won't find an answer and it's already too late to change your mind as you're in your costume—adding the finishing touches: freckles and curling the ends of your hair in a ponytail—you simply shrug Mei Mei off.

Half an hour later, Mei's boyfriend of the week—some guy from her economics class you swear has to just have popped into the school because you have never seen him—drops both of you in front of Satoru's mansion while he parks out back.

And fuck.

He really does have the money and privilege to be so full of himself.

Tall structured while walls, french style architecture—balanced, symmetrical sides—a huge as wooden door pried open where bodies storm in and out of the building.

The party has been going on for around two hours when your feet drag themselves forward and past a multitude of buzzed, drunk and high people who sway left and right to the DJ's mix who you could see working from the second floor balcony once you reached the back yard.

It's electric, people are having fun. At least that's what it looks like.

There's fog around Gojo's unnecessary huge pool where the guests are around—and if this is some cliché movie, they'll all jump inside and skinny dip at some point when the alcohol has really got to them.

You didn't even realize Mei Mei has already ran off from your side when you stopped scanning the place.

Panic quickly starts to grow under your skin. This isn't your kind of space, and you surely didn't want to be here alone. Anxiety latches onto your breathing, making it go shallow—breaths too short, not bringing enough oxygen to your blood.

Your head starts to spin, the smell of marijuana and vodka starting to be the only thing invading your nostrils—and white musk? What?

A hand finds it's way around your waist and your heart aggressively slams itself against your chest from the scare.

Soon enough, Satoru's cheeky smile comes into view, and then his whole face once you crane your head upwards to meet his eyes.

Just a bit, you relax. Breathing evening out, heartbeat steadying from seeing a familiar face. You're not particularly happy to see him, but he is the one who called you here after all.

"Oh, the princess came?" He muses. "Welcome to my party."

Gojo is... dressed in a fucking woody costume.

Woody. From Toy Story. As in the Toy Story your own costume is from. What are the odds.

How is it that every person in this room is wearing a costume not even remotely close to Toy Story—which, last time you checked was the most overused idea hence why it was so easy to find at the Halloween store—but Gojo is coincidentally wearing the one character that yours is shipped with.

And god help you does he look good.

Too good.

His broad frame—jacked arms, bulky legs, veiny forearms revealed from his sleeves being pushed up, bundled around his elbows—pressing against the cotton yellow and red striped checkered shirt under his cow print vest. Matching your flare pants.

A cowgirl and a cowboy.

Great.

Just great.

His fan girls will have your head by tomorrow morning.

You roll your eyes at his cheesy welcome.

"Look at that, we're matching!" He brightens up once his eyes finish raking over your every curve, dip of skin under the clothes, costume.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes even further this time. Growing uncomfortable under his dangerous stare, his large hands on your waist keeping you grounded in a way they shouldn't and the people pushing around you.

He notices. "Hey? You okay?"

Recieving no reply from you and only a doe-eyed look that spoke without you needing to part your pretty lips (and that made his pants grow a bit too tight for his liking), his hands leave your waist and grab one of your wrists before pulling you away and off to somewhere else.

Climbing a hidden pair of polished marble stairs in the kitchen, you reached a room tucked away in the giant lively mansion.

It's a sanctuary so different from everything else. The room is cozy, galaxy projector in the corner painting the roof in stars and material dreams are made of. A blue bean bag in the corner, one red next to it.

A TV screen in the middle with a PS5 under it. A couch pressed against a wall where he leads you to. The heels of your cowboy boots dig into the rug underneath you silently.

He plops down first onto the brown leather, man spreading as he gets comfortable and while his hand still on your wrist brings you down to sit next to him.

You sit, half uncomfortable from the proximity, half relived you're away from the chaos.

Satoru wastes no time in shattering the short-lived silence you were in.

From behind the closed door, you can hear the faint sound of "The Color Violet" by Tory Lanez play, typical party song, over his smooth voice.

"So, why'd you end up coming?"

Your eyes narrow to him, back peeling off the couch to lean closer to him, a faint but purposeful frown wedged between your features. "Are you not happy to see me?"

His lower lip catches between his teeth as he bites is, tension building as you see his eyes locked on your lips and your mock pout.

"No, I am glad you came." He says.

You sink back onto the couch, shrugging. "You talked so much about this party and I got curious."

There's a smile on his face now, amused. "And?"

"Curiosity kills the cat."

He winces. "Ouch, seriously?"

"Yes." You deadpan.

Now it's his turn to pout, though he can't hold it as his entertained smile keeps breaking through. "Aw come on Y/N, It's not bad."

You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest and admitting. "It's not. Just not my kinda place."

"I can make it your place." He coyly says as an arm of his finds the headrest behind your head. Body turned sideways to you now.

Your head spins to him. "How?"

His eyes, hungry and with a dangerous glint behind them, trail up from your neck to your lips, to your eyes and you feel your pulse picking up.

"You look good in that costume, you know?" The tip of his tongue sticks out as it pokes his canine.

"That's not what I asked." You shoot back, feeling something weird pool in your stomach.

He continues nonetheless, "People might think we are dating."

The scoff you let you is accidental, but it lands. "As if I'd ever date you."

He laughs. Propping his head on his now bent arm that was draped behind your frame. "They all say that."

And the tension grows while you stay quiet. Eyes locked onto his. His heat reaching your skin without even touching you, his minty breath fanning your cheek as he looks down at you.

While there's fire, annoyance and defiance behind your irises. Lust, passion and amusement cloud his.

You smirk because his tricks may work on many girls but you have no intention of being his bitch.

A manicured hand of yours finds the center of his chest, right on the sternum as you push him back. The hand his head was on stretches out again as he's put into his original position.

The couch makes squeaky noises as his body sinks back on it. His legs open again, manspreading and pressing against your thigh. Pants clinging to his thigh and making a sinful sight.

Not letting him react, you take the chance to throw your thigh over his before he's fully settled in. You straddle him as he grows red, face twisted into surprise.

The grin on your face softens around the corners as you peer down at him now. Feeling the hardness under his jeans grow and press at you. Satoru is shocked out of his words.

Arms open by his sides onto the couches top while your hands settle on his shoulders. You push the cowboy hat off of his head, leaving only yours on. His soft bundles of impossibly white hair stick up.

You brush them down with your fingernails at an excruciatingly slow pace. Making sure to shift the slightest bit, unnoticeable if someone were to see you both, but enough to make electricity shock Gojo's body over and over as his hard cock receives the stimulation.

His breath hitches, a pathetic little sound that snaps him out of it. Out of the haze you had momentarily caught him in. His hands fly to your waist, stilling you on his lap and locking you over his boner in place. Eyes darkening as you zero on the fact that you've lost the upper hand.

Satoru's voice rings close to your ear from how close your faces are. "Oh? What are you doing, angel?"

Swallowing the anxiety in your throat, you wet your lips and watch how his eyes flicker to them. You smile down at him, "Satoru, I'm not them."

You feel his chest vibrate when he chuckles. "Yeah?"

Your hands run over his collarbones, deliberately slow. Watching every fiber of his body betray him as his muscles tense under your touch.

"Yeah."

Sky blue eyes looking up at you, trying to find what you're intending to do.

You kiss his cheek.

And slide off.

Fix your hat on your head.

Don't look back.

And leave.

"See you."

Satoru knows you’ll crack sooner or later.

He’ll be buried to the hilt inside your pussy and leave you dry the next day.

He just needs to test a friend’s theory.

That’s all.

Monday mercilessly came once more.

Satoru had practice like always. From the start of the week till Friday they train, train and train. Off-ice conditioning and on-ice mechanics. Brutal drills.

Loads and loads of cardio resulting in him and Suguru leaving the rink with a parched throat, adrenaline pumping high and their clothes sticking underneath to their skin.

Not to mention the explosive, hard workouts their coach has them do for lower-body strengths. Most hockey players don't dare to sign up for the gym because of them.

Yaga keeps them fit. Diets, core power workout, high-intensity stuff that would have a normal college student fainting on round one.

Suguru is boasting about his new stick, 345 grams. The lightest one he's found by now. Probably going to allow him to be faster and more efficient on the ice—and last less.

Well, it would be breaking on the first match with Satoru. He's not really known for being calm when he gets played.

But as his best friend rambles to Choso, and apparently him, Suguru notices Satoru is uncharacteristically silent. Mind somewhere else. Eyes glued to the ceiling.

He hisses at him. "Yo, idiot. What are you looking at?"

Satoru's head snaps back into place, head spinning from the sudden movement.

"What?" He asks at the two men looking at him like he has a third head.

"What's up with you?" Suguru questions, eyebrow lifted.

Choso nods, his helmet bouncing against his leg. "Where were you Friday?" He asks out of the blue.

Gojo shrugs like it's obvious. "At my party, duh?" Uncertain of what they're trying to paint here.

The other long haired, pierced raven haired man groans. Choso continues. "No shit, bro."

Suguru sweeps in. "You disappeared for a while. Couldn't find you anywhere."

His throat goes dry. This has never happened before.

Come on, Satoru. Shrug it off. Smirk and say you snuck off with some girl.

While he struggles to find an answer, making him look suspicious in front of his friends, an insufferable green haired man skates over to crash their conversation.

"Gojo."

He snaps out of his thoughts to be met with the unpleasant face of Naoya Zenin. "What do you want, Zenin?"

The three men stare at the newcomer with serious expressions, clearly unamused by his arrival.

"When did you start inviting losers to your parties?"

"I don't know, when did you start coming?"

Naoya shrugged it off. Grew the shit-eating grin on his face and continued "Care to explain what Y/N L/N was doing at your party Friday?"

Satoru tensed under the layers of clothes he was wearing.

But he deflected quick. "Fuck am I supposed to know? Mei Mei came with her."

The Zenin hummed, shooting him a strange look before leaving unconvinced.

Suguru and Choso were turned to Satoru by the time Naoya's figure disappeared.

"Y/N? The Sally girl?" Tries Choso.

"Apparently." Replies the white haired center.

The week flies by abnormally quick with Satoru catching no sight of you. Not even in stats.

Till Saturday.

November caught up to you after the cursed Halloween party. A cold knocking on your door on the first and leaving you bedridden to miss your classes.

Saturday you felt well enough and to celebrate studying so much while sick, trying your best to keep up with your classes—and totally not doing to keep your mind off sitting on Satoru's lap—you went out for coffee.

The off-campus coffee shop is the best local one. Tucked away at a five minute walk from your apartment, Mimi's cafe always greets you with the same atmosphere.

The sound of coffee grinding in the background, slow jazz spilling from the vintage record player in the corner, perfectly chosen wooden tables with mug stains that make it all the more cozier.

It's heaven on earth.

But you get your cappuccino to go today, needing to stop by the post office and pick up an order in a few minutes.

"Hey, chlo. One cappuccino please—" You start, smiling up at Chloe, a barista you'd become a regular to.

"I know, Y/N." She smiles, typing down the order.

"—And one hot chocolate with extra whip cream, chocolate flakes on top for me please. By card."

Satoru's smooth voice sends a chill down your spine as his chest presses against your frozen figure and taps his card while Chloe silently complies.

You look at him from your peripheral vision. Catching the cream wool scarf around his neck, his heavy dark blue coat and the pink tip of his nose.

"What are you doing here?" You whisper as you move to the waiting zone, him following with his hands shoved in his pockets by your side.

"Buying you a drink, pretty."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I know." He grins.

You suspiciously eye him. "What do you want?"

"Where have you been all week? Haven't seen you since.." Satoru trails off.

You internally wince. "Way to dodge my question."

A deep sigh leaves his chest. "Fine you caught me."

"Spill." You urge.

"Come to my game tomorrow."

Uh.

What is it with this dude inviting you everywhere?

He continues, a colly smirk on his handsome face you wish you could slap. "Cheer for me."

Ding!

An idea comes into mind. You pretend to ponder for a second.

Then you hum. "Sure."

He brights up.

He has no idea.

No idea that the very next day, Sunday, you will in fact attend his game.

However, not in blue.

Not in dark blue and white stripes with JJKU's logo printed in the middle.

But in red.

Red and white stripes.

With the number 19 on the back.

Sukuna Ryomen.

Rival team's center.

Sukuna motherfucking Ryomen.

Also nationally known as Satoru, star of JJKU'S hockey team's enemy.

They're the kind of rivals that drive each other up the wall. Bodies slamming against the boards. Sticks constantly clashing in fight for the puck.

Yelled insults, shoved bodies, bleeding lips and bruised skin in result.

They have history and tension.

You're there to play Satoru.

He said to come.

You did.

But you're not obedient enough to cheer him on.

Yorozu eyes you from her seat on the bleachers next to you, arms wrapped around herself and trying to heat her cold arms up under her cardigan by rubbing her hands over them.

You're not cold as you swim under Sukuna's jersey. 19 stitched onto your back, Ryomen in big white letters as his school's emblem sits on your chest.

"Last time I checked you study at JJKU and they wear blue." She points out, trying to riddle whatever you were doing.

"Correct!" You applaud. The red flag in your hand shaking as you do so.

She doesn't try to question you again.

Only glues her eyes to the rink once the speakers boom and the players spill onto the ice.

Satoru comes out last.

Hands in the air, stick shaking as he waves it to the many figures on the bleachers, secretly searching for a certain someone.

And then his eyes find you under his helmet.

And he stops moving.

His figure stills.

Halfway to the center.

He's shooting daggers at you.

You're smiling sweetly like you're buzzing with excitement for the game to start.

Sukuna shouts something that makes him lock into place.

Jaw tight under the protection, mouth guard in place as his teeth dig holes into it, hands tightly grasping his stick. Back hunched, blood boiling.

You cheer for the reds.

Jump with Yorozu when they score.

Groan when Toji misses a goal like it pains you and like you actually care about sports.

Satoru's eyes fly to you when he scores to find you blankly looking back at him. Unimpressed face in place.

He slams bodies onto the the boards, he yells. Throws the puck, his stick, glares at you with something you can't understand behind his eyes while he drinks water on the halftime.

He breaks a new record. 12 goals in a game at 21 fueled by pure rage.

By you.

The game ends.

Yorozu runs off when she sees Uraume at the rink's entry ready to pick her up.

You sit on the bleachers a little longer, watching Satoru's frustrated figure retreat. Throw his helmet on the padded floor behind the gate to the ice.

Then you get up.

Start to move out of your row, heading for the door when a loud banging sound startles you.

From behind your back, you hear Satoru's voice booming through the empty arena.

"Y/N! GET DOWN HERE!"

His fist harshly colliding with the plastic board he smashes rivals against.

Your heart frantically jumpstarts into irregular beats.

Your knees go weak.

But you slowly step down the bleachers, circle the rink and find him coming to you—meeting you halfway.

He's still in his skates.

Well over his normal height now, towering over you so much your neck hurts when you crane your head to look up at him.

The rink is to your right, the sturdy wall of plastic that separates the public from the chaos in the games being the only thing between you and the actual ice.

Satoru's looming figure is tense.

He's still in his uniform.

Blue and white suiting him criminally well while your red contrasts. It clashes.

Helmet gone, you see his half-lidded azure eyes piercing into yours. Gaze heavy. Tension about to snap at any second.

You can't breathe with how thick it is.

You blink one and you're pressed up against the board, his hands pressed against the plastic and you trapped under him.

"What are you doing Y/N?" He asks, voice hoarse.

Throat painfully dry. You swallow.

His body presses against yours, heat transferring like glue onto you. Hard muscles of his chest carving themselves against your chest.

Face close.

Too close.

Mere inches between the two of you.

Mint fills your mostrils again.

The familiar scent of him making your head go haywire.

Sweat, musk, something clean.

Something so him.

Your thoughts shatter at his voice reaching your ears again. "Cat got your tongue?"

Yes.

You hadn't through your plan this through.

What now?

"I told you to cheer for me, baby."

Butterflies explode in your stomach.

His face drops even more, lips ghosting up the side of your neck.

And when he reaches your temple.

He whispers lowly. "I'll show you what happens when you're screaming another man's name."

⁠❥

"Oh!—Satoru!"

How did you end up like this?

With your back against the cold metal of the hockey team's changing room. Sukuna's shirt thrown on the floor, your hair messy and drool spilling from the corners of your mouth—and Satoru's cock stretching you out like he wants his shape to be the only one your needy pussy remembers.

You're liquid in his hands as he bounces you on his cock against the wall. Raw. The sound of skin meeting skin and your mixed mewls and whimpers the only thing echoing through the empty zone.

Satoru's eyes are shining, blue orbs full of lust and hearts as he watches himself disappear in your wetness. A filthy pace ruining you in his arms.

There's a frothy white ring at the base of his cock where your juices mix while he rams and rams onto you. His mouth explores the exposed surface on your neck.

Marking with bites and hickeys you won't be able to cover. On your collarbone, neck, nipples, waist. He has a strong grip that's surely going to bruise on your hip as he dives in relentlessly.

Your brain is all mush so all you can say is his name.

"Satoru—'

He's feral. "Yeah, keep moaning my name like that. Told you what would happen."

"—It's-too much!" There are tears running down your eyes from the overstimulation, you've lost track of how many times you've cummed.

"You can take it."

And you really can't because Satoru is huge. He's bruising your cervix as he hits it with every plunge in your pussy but you love it.

In one sharp movement you're back on the bench, back pressed against old wood. Satoru inside of you—pushing your legs up and changing the position before delivering that first toe-curling thrust.

A choked sound escapes your throat as he hits your g-spot. Spots of white clouding your vision.

Your nails finding his shoulders, scratching sensitive skin. Flushed cheeks and hot bodies meshing he unravels you in the locker room with the risk of being caught.

Which makes it all the more thrilling.

His large hand leaves your hip and trails up your side till it lands on your face. Delicately catching a stray tear from falling.

"Aw, look at you, babe." He muses.

You clench around him, pulling him back in stronger.

He continues. "You were right when you said you weren't like the others."

Another involuntary cry rips free from your chest.

"You like that?"

He sees the fucked out face you're wearing. Your eyes rhythmically rolling back to your skull when he finds that hidden point. Your back arching when he blows past your cervix.

Placing slow, open mouthed kisses that are way too gentle with how his thick cock is tearing you apart, he hums against your warm skin.

"Answer me, honey."

You snap. "Mhm! Mh—It's so good, 'toru."

His dick twitches inside of you at the nickname. "Yeah? I can feel you're close."

A high pitched whimper escapes you when his thumb presses your clit. Drawing slow and increasingly fast circles that melt your whole existence as the coil in your stomach thins out.

"I'm so close, imsoclose, Satoru. Please—"

You're not even sure what you're begging for, but you want him to continue.

Satoru groans and whispers a trail of curses you can't understand before he shoves his tongue down your throat and starts absorbing your moans.

He picks up the pace one more time, balls meeting the soft globes of your ass hardly until you break and come undone on him.

Burying himself to the hilt and losing to your warmth, Satoru spills his cum deep inside of you as you shake under him.

Now slowly kissing each other to bring you down from the high, Satoru gently pulls out and parts from your lips.

Your breathing is heavy as you look up at him in between your legs.

You feel him spilling out of you.

Before his cum can leave any more of you, his finger picks it up and shoves it back inside. You hiss at the sting.

He chuckles deeply, finger still inside of you.

"You're criminal, Y/N."

You drive him insane with that sweet and shy girl facade to everyone.

And act like a honey covered devil with him.

But he’s crazy for it.

He’s barely known you for two weeks but you’re so magnetic he physically can’t forget you.

A beat passes.

"Round two in my car?"

So he carries your trembling figure on his back with his gear in his other hand to his car while you wear his jersey and Sukuna's shirt stays wet on the floor.

Brings you over his lap on the driver's seat, has you straddling his thick thighs. Bunches his your shirt over your tits.

Bounces you on his cock

You ride him.

Sweat glazing his body, a hard-on that won't go down no matter how much you ride him with your weak legs and his palms helping you bounce.

White locks cling to his forehead, brushing over those drowsy, lust clouded cerulean eyes of his.

Satoru's mind starts to crash as you mewl and grind on him. The sound of your slick sticking to his lap as your ass meets his balls over and over sending his consciousness out the window.

Wet plop, plop, plop is all that resonates through the car.

His head is tipped back, jaw slack, mouth open as you kiss down his throat. Nails scratching his shoulders. He'll probably feel the sting of the sensitive skin tomorrow underneath his uniform.

It will all be worth it though.

A low rumble climbs out of his chest as you lean back away from his chest and continue lifting and dropping your hips hard on him.

Satoru is groaning with no control.

"Oh god—Y/N-"

The cocky, hot hockey captain moaning under you, cute.

Your irregular breathing mixed with salty tears rings in his ear. The cars foggy windows do little to hide your figure over his, and somehow the risk of being caught drives him even more insane.

The familiar knot in your stomach churns. Looking down you're met with how your greedy pussy swallows Satoru's 8 inches with ease now that his own previous release and your juices serve as a lubricant and since your walls know his shape.

Quicky sensing you grow tighter around his length, Satoru's hands wrap around your waist—pulling you flush against him and tucking your head in his neck as he starts thrusting up.

You shatter, moaning loudly in his shoulder. He delivers the last few home runs and covers your insides in white again. New and old release mixing inside of you.

And you don't ever dare to wear red again.

Or you do..

Either way, Satoru doesn't expect you to shrug him off Monday.

With his hickeys peeking out from underneath your shirt.

You may have gotten your back blown out by the school's hockey center.

But he isn't anywhere close to getting you wrapped around his finger.

Which is why Suguru and Choso watch with their jaws dropped as their friend trails behind you like a desperate virgin in attempt to get you to tag along with their celebration dinner.

Because Gojo won twice that day.

Now he can't get enough.

What’s he going to do now so you end up dating him?

He tries to get you to attend something he throws or he’s involved in again—Tuesday he innocently appears in front of your apartment with a cup of coffee in hand and the words “My sister is getting married this week and I need a date.”

He doesn’t have a sister.

“Gojo, you have no sister.”

And that stops him dead in his tracks.

“I meant my aunt.”

You grabbed the drink from his hand, surprisingly the same order you’d gotten the last time he popped up behind you at a coffee shop.

Smiled sweetly at him.

Thanked him, and said: “I’m a busy woman, Satoru. Maybe some other time.”

Did he need to know you had no other plans but to read and eat banana bread on your weekends? Absolutely not.

That was your personal you time.

But when Wednesday rolled around and you got your grade back for your last math exam—a depressing 31/100 that could have you ending up retaking first year statistics, you turned to straight A math student Satoru.

Having nowhere to go and desperately needing help if you didn’t want to fail the subject, he was unfortunately the only one around you with grades that were too good for how little he studied.

You remember the chill going down your spine at the thought of trading your cozy Saturday for a tutoring session with…him.

When you shyly asked him for help though, he lit up like a Christmas tree on December 25th. All big smiles and frantic nods with questions about when? Why? What should he bring?

“Um, yourself? I have my material at home, Satoru.”

He happily agreed with no complaints.

So here you are now.

Cross-legged on the floor.

Three huge math textbooks he brought when you’d told him there was no need but he insisted that this was the guide to math 101.

Whom the numbers inside meshed into Chinese at some point for you.

And made a headache slowly start to brew instead of understanding whatever he was explaining.

“Are you listening?”

That snaps you out of your head. Guilty, you slowly look back up at his face, gaze abandoning the rubber residue on the paper you’d been drilling holes into with your eyes and finding a playful pout on his face.

“Sorry, I can’t focus.” You confess, fingers picking at the ends of your skirt.

You’re not even sure why you wore a skirt.

But you refuse to admit it was for him even for a fleeting second.

He softly smiles.

“I can help you with that.”

Curiosity crawls under your skin.

You peek up at him. “You can?”

He grins.

Seriously, how do you get in these situations?

Satoru had hooked an arm behind your back, another under your legs and in one swift motion lifted both you and him off the floor then plopped you on your bed.

Pushed you back gently till your head met your pillow. Crawled over you painfully slow. Traced the bare skin of your right thigh till it met the beginning of your skirt.

Watched your face till you shyly nodded.

Allowed his hands to go further up and meet the thin lace of your panties which made his boner harden more.

Press a thumb to your clit, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. Shocking every nerve in your system into consciousness.

And dipped his head in between your legs where he is now.

One big hand pressing against your twitching hips as his tongue relentlessly moves in unclear directions—from side to side, up and down.

Flattening it, drinking every single drop of sweet nectar you offer him. Earning a low grumble from him whenever he feels you flutter and clench around nothing.

He inserts a finger and grows jealous of it disappearing when it should be him inside of you.

But he continues watching your chest raise and fall, your breathing hitch at his every moment. The leaking of his saliva mixed with your slick onto your white bedsheets.

“You’re doing so well for me, baby.”

You feel the tears start to sting your waterline as your orgasm approaches. Your view of the ceiling and Satoru’s pale hair between your legs growing blurry.

The outside start to fade and your body tingles when it crashes over you.

“Come on, pretty. Come on my tongue.”

And you do.

Satoru feels your essence spill onto his tongue and he wastes no time in enjoying it. Tongue nipping at your sensitive bud and making you jolt under every reverent lick.

You’re panting once he rises from beneath you.

Not thinking straight yet and on cloud 9 when he grabs your hips and turns you over. Now having you on top of his chest.

“Ride my face.”

You learn that Gojo Satoru is an insatiable monster in bed that rewires your brain every time he gets in your pants.

Satoru finds out that the shy girl in his class has him wrapped around her pretty fingers after he gives her his all during sex and still can’t get her to even so much as look at him after the night bleeds into morning.

But he finds out that he’s more than willing to be your little toy until you’re ready to let him stay in the morning.

And make love to you instead.

He just has to wait some time till you warm up to him.

Maybe an eternity.

He thanks Choso for telling him that the shyest ones are the freakiest.

You may not even consider him a friend now.

But Gojo knows he’s going to be the one waiting at the end of the altar in a few years.

You just wait.

Woah what in the freak. Thank you to my useless ridiculous ex for teaching me hockey shit. Like and subscribe!

[hestiayoon]

nerd!gojo turned frat!gojo encounters his high school sweetheart at his party 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 pt. 2

gojo satoru was the golden boy of jujutsu university.

president of the biggest frat on campus, the most gorgeous face and blue orbs you could set your eye on, packing muscles, and a height that just matches perfectly. plus, his parties were the best.

everyone wanted satoru, to say the least.

people like to call him a "playboy", or a "heavyweight", and he loves to drown his ego in those compliments and rumors.

cause in contrast to gojo satoru in high school, his reputation was way better than he could ever expect.

almost half his face covered in his thick glasses, constantly wearing the same hoodies and sweaters, hair unkempt and messy, nose buried in books half of the time— it was a total 360!

but, there was one thing satoru missed the most from his high school days... and that was you.

the only girl he kept longer than 6 months. hell, you two even lasted three years, sophomore till senior. you were his first love, first girlfriend, first kiss, first fuck, first everything. god, if only you didn't pick a college so far away.

but satoru thinks it's for the best. if you were still with him, he would know he'd still stay as that nerdy boy that everyone hated. so, he does his best to forget about you. who needs a girlfriend when he can have fun without a label?

... is what he thought until he saw you again.

he hasn't felt lovestruck in a long while. everything went silent around him. everything was going in slow motion. lights probed around the house slowly, music low-pitched, laughter on reverb. and funnily, there was a spotlight on you.

heart eyes bore into you from across the room, but you haven't noticed yet. you were talking to your friend, utahime who studied at the sister school of your high school, who brought you here.

"oh, i totally forgot to tell you. remember gojo?" she asks, taking a sip from her red cup.

your heart drops slightly at the mention of him. you haven't heard of satoru since he blocked you unexpectedly. you heard about his 'glow up' but for your mental health, you couldn't be bothered to dig deeper into it. but you digress, forcing a smile. "yeah, of course i do. why would i forget?" you laugh, crossing your arms.

"he goes to jujutsu university too, right? same as you..." you awkwardly say, drinking the beer in your hand.

utahime nods, "yeah, he's the host of this party." she bluntly spoke. and before you knew it, you spat out your drink.

"girl, what the hell?!" utahime exclaims, stepping back. you wipe your mouth, eyes wide, "i am so sorry— i'm going to get tissues,"

but before you could act, someone stood right beside you, kitchen towels in hand. "you alright?" he talks directly to utahime, a flirty grin evident in his voice, and he rips some tissue to help her wipe her shirt.

if physically possible, your eyes widen even more. you find yourself speechless.

"i'm fine— and i don't need your help dude," she says, grabbing the tissues and wiping her shirt. utahime then sighs, "i'm going to the bathroom, excuse me." she clicks her tongue. "i'm so so sorry, iori," you mumble, "it's fine, i'm sure you were shocked..." your friend says before walking away, eyes darting between the two of you.

you force yourself to keep an eye on your friend, crossing your arms once more as you attempt to save yourself from humiliation. you needed to avoid this man at all costs.

gojo fucking satoru. nerd or not, you're not looking forward to seeing him.

but no, of course not. as talkative as satoru is (which hasn't changed since high school), he just had to say something!

clearing his throat, "well... long time no see." he speaks, voice unusually deep. gosh, is he trying to be cool?

you take a deep breath to compose yourself before you turn— and lo and behold, the 6'3 alien-looking dude is in front of you. "hey," you mutter, eyes darting left and right.

"what brings you here?" he asks awkwardly, and his demeanor suggests the nerd in him resurfaced after years. "utahime invited me," you answer quickly, suddenly finding that lamp beside the couch interesting, squinting your eyes.

"i see..." satoru mutters, and you finally look at him properly for the first time tonight. god, he looked so different yet as breathtaking as you remember.

no more fat glasses or bangs that framed his face perfectly— but replaced with a slicked back look with a cap worn backwards that looked like a cherry on top. gojo satoru always had muscles but never showed them to anyone but you. yet now, he's bigger, beefier, you might say— and he's flaunting it like a 5-course meal.

"you here for long?" he then asks, snapping you out of your thoughts and nonchalantly putting his hands in his pockets. you clear your throat, trying to find the words to say without exposing too much information. "i'm on vacation," you respond, looking down. satoru just bites his lip nervously.

a beat of awkward silence lingers in the air, seemingly both of you at a loss for words. but satoru speaks up: "hey... if ever you're free after all of this, would you consider going out—" however, he gets cut off by a bunch of girls screaming his name, asking for him to join them in the pool.

the white-haired man turns around, flashing them a wide smile. "i'll be right there gorgeous," and he waves.

but when he swerves to talk to you again, you were nowhere to be found. the fratboy sighs. "god, someone just fuck me in the ass already," he mutters to himself, scratching the back of his head before darting off to look for you.

you were already heading out of the house, regretting your decision to even come here in the first place. you should've flipped him off the moment he approached you and went home. that would've saved you from seeing that horrendous sight of your man flirting with some girls who can't even get a 2.5 gpa.

you briskly walk over to the sidewalk, taking a deep breath as the cool night air hit your drunk ass.

wait. but he isn't even your man? what right do you have to get jealous?

taking a few steps forward, your heels click against the pavement. until you abruptly stop, sighing loudly before screaming bloody murder in total embarrassment. you grip your bag, before crouching in humiliation, eyes shut as you force yourself to forget about everything that just happened.

what were you even thinking— why and how would you ever get the chance to get back with the new and improved gojo satoru?

he's the type of guy who plays beer pong and kisses people for fun during truth or dare games now. he's no longer that shy, anti-party, anti-alcohol, study-prioritizing nerd you've known since grade 8. he does billiards with a girl around his arm feeding him his drink— no, he doesn't play chess and beg you to watch his tournaments or go on a chess park date. you bet he doesn't even like digimon anymore! he probably sold all his limited edition cards and used the money for his fraternity's party funds.

but most of all, he's not yours anymore. and that really fucking stung.

messing up your hair with another scream, you find yourself wasted on countless "what ifs" that contradict "he blocked me first, it's not worth it" thoughts. you let out a low sob, tired and yearning to go home.

"i'm so stupid," you mutter to yourself, but you're met with a response. "no, i am." a deep voice rumbles from behind you.

your brain freezes for a second, before you're darting back up again, giving yourself whiplash as you face your one and only ex-boyfriend once again.

"did you freaking follow me out?" you exclaim, furrowing your eyebrows as you took a few steps away from him.

"y-yeah, but not in a creepy way— i just wanted to talk to you," he says, rubbing the bicep pressed tightly against his compression shirt nervously.

"i'm not interested." you say, straightforward. "not anymore," you then mumble, sighing under your breath as you look away from him.

"i'm not here to get you back," he softly speaks, "well, maybe, if you'd let me. but i was just really happy to see you again." he rocks himself on his heels, shoving his hands in his pockets again.

you hug yourself to go against that random coldness that swifts through you. maybe it's because of your adrenaline. "you've got tons of other girls lined up, just leave me alone." you scoff. "plus, you're the one who blocked me in the first place, didn't you?"

he pouts. cute, but no.

"i know that," he sighs, rubbing his nape, "and i'm sorry, okay? i fucked up a lot during our breakup period even though we could've stayed friends." he looks down, clearly guilty. but you won't buy it. you force yourself not to.

"at least you're self-aware." you mutter bitterly.

"look, i get it if you want to go— if you don't want to talk to me. i'm sure it's a shock to see me, especially like... this." your ex explains, adjusting his cap habitually.

"point is?" you raise an eyebrow.

he bites his lip apprehensively, hands on his hips as he gathered the courage to ask: "i want to make it up to you. maybe when you're feeling better too." he says, taking a few steps forward.

you freeze. you should seriously move. run a marathon for a cause— cause being getting away from gojo satoru.

"so... would it hurt so much to rekindle? be friends?" he asks, looking at you with those overbearing blue eyes, like his life depended on it.

friends? yeah, right. but you think about it.

"fine." you mutter.

yo. that's not how it was supposed to go?

but your heart is stubborn. and your heart won't let go of you stupid nerd turned fratboy ex. it's fucking stupid.

so there you have it. you're friends with gojo satoru again. unbelievable. three weeks in with talking to him again, you now find yourself laying on your bed, giggling at one of his corny ass jokes, staring at your phone as you waited for those three dots to become a message.

but while waiting for his response, your good friend utahime gives you a call. sitting up, you answer. "hello?"

her end starts with a loud sigh. "warning before i speak, just know i'll be blunt like last time. god, i hate men!" she exclaims, and you show concern.

"iori what happened?" you ask, and she replies. "you've been betted on, that's what happened!" your heart drops.

"i got the info from shoko, remember her? it's crazy! i swear that gojo guy is such an asshole thank god i went to a different campus during high school, he's the most disrespectful nuisance i've ever met—" utahime rambles, but you cut her off, staring blankly at the notification you got from satoru.

toru g: i'm gonna visit your dorm, surprise! ( ˙꒳​˙ ) i'm otw,,, don't yell at me for coming unexpectedly pls. ♡♡♡

"hey... iori? i'll call you back, okay? tell me everything later." you say into the phone before ending the call.

just then, you hear your doorbell ring. just perfect.

you walk to the door in anger, steps heavy as you swing it open.

"SURPRISE!" slap!

yeah, fuck fratboy gojo satoru.

𐙚────ᝰ.ᐟ₊ ⊹

a/n: hi guys! hope u liked this one. took me a few days to write but finally, it's out!

thank u so so much for reading. please do consider reblogging and giving me a follow cuties <3 reqs are open anytime too! thanks again :P

[tonycries]

Pretty Lil' Baby - R.S.

Synopsis. Five times the elders of the Sukuna household are sure their fearsome clan leader is impotent, and the one times he makes them realize - Ryomen Sukuna is feraI. For you.

Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, clan leader!Sukuna, 5 + 1 things, arranged marriages, Itadori family shenanigans, wingmanning, the elders, helping Sukuna get laid, Sukuna is down BAD, true form, second mouth, oraI (fem rec.), fíngering, spítting, cervíx kíssing, pússydrúnk Sukuna, dp, DÚMBlFlCATION, tummy buIges, he’s big, rough s, riding, manhandIing, p talking, bréeding, creampíes, cúmplay, getting together, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 11.8k

A/N. Missed their chaos omg-

“Buckle up, boys. This might be the most important event of our lives.” Itadori Jin has never taken his role as older brother so seriously. 

Locked in a team huddle with his father, the elders, and a very reluctant, recently-married Ryomen Sukuna. “Dad- you’re on the romantic music. Council- you’re on the rose petals. I’ll be outside on the phone with the fire department, the exorcist, the-”

“It’s my wedding night?”

“Exactly.”

With a final clap of determination, the group shoves their clan leader towards the bed chambers. Ignoring his grumbles of- “But the ladies love me.”

“Ryo, you’ve been single your entire life.”

“…” Okay, perhaps Jin was right. It’d been a traditional arranged wedding, yours being the only proposal that the infamously cold Sukuna had even looked at, let alone agreed to. 

But he clasps the polished doorknob, “I’ll give ya an heir.” Opening. “Just you watch, I’ll give ya four heirs, maybe five, maybe six—oh.”

Until he saw his pretty wife.

Even more gorgeous than you’d been during those brief formal interviews, between clans and council members who nudged each other at the fact that he had finally chosen a bride. 

You’d swapped out your wedding robes for an actual robe that was much…riskier. Stuck to your skin, glistening in the faint candlelight. You were semi-sprawled comfortably across the bed, having patiently waited for their ‘team meeting’ to have finished. 

And Sukuna would’ve yelled at any of them for gaping stupidly from the doorway, he should have - if he wasn’t gaping stupidly himself, that is. Lips parted, crimson eyes bulging. 

This was the clan leader rumored by some to be a monster, and rumored by others to fight like a monster: now fully frozen at the sight of you. 

It takes about seven different council members and Itadori Wasuke poking Sukuna’s muscular back with his wooden cane to make him move. “Ryo-” Jin hisses in slight concern, fingers starting to itch towards his phone, namely in the sequence of the emergency number he’d memorized for tonight. “Ryo move- you- oaf-” 

Respect for the head of the household be damned, they were deadset on bullying him inside the romantically-decorated room. Finally making him move one foot. Two. 

As soon as he staggers through the entrance, the towering mahogany doors then slam shut behind him. Somewhat snapping Sukuna out of his little reverie - somewhat. He shakes his head free of that vision of you, gaze dropping to the floor- anywhere but where you were sitting, so beautiful and unbothered. 

An heir.

Right, an heir. What was that nonsense about six heirs? Right now, he felt he’d be lucky to get to not faint.

“I uh-” You lean closer with a smile when he starts to sputter out, and the act itself nearly makes him take a step back. Heart rushing to the surface of his tattooed skin, “Ah, I mean-”

He gulps. And almost as if they were sensing the tension inside the bedroom, the group outside abruptly starts up the distant saxophone of a George Michael. It filters through the slight gaps of the doorway and into the thick silence inside. 

You were looking at him with a raised brow, clearly waiting for him to speak first with his interesting reaction.

Which is exactly what Ryomen Sukuna does - exactly why he clears his throat gravely. All seven feet of his figure straightening, toned chest puffing out. Jin had told him to smile before he smoldered, and right now Sukuna does neither. Only asking in grim seriousness-

“So are you uh…open-minded?”

“What?”

“What?”

BANG!

He’d removed himself from the honeymoon suite before you could even blink. 

And as you sat up on the bed in genuine confusion, the clan leader outside - your husband - was crouched against the now-closed bedroom doors. Knees to his pecs, all four palms coming up to cover his face- though, they do nothing to hide the scorching red flushed at the tips of his ears. 

The elders can only gawk; they’d known Sukuna since birth, and never had he acted in this manner. Never had he been so flustered, blushed so bright that it looked like he was steaming from his very skin. Flinching at the touch of his brother, he groans once the older one starts punting him with questions.

Jin squawks, “Is your wife okay- are you okay?”

“Yes- no.”

“Do I need to call the fire department?”

“No.”

“The exorcist-”

“No no no- fuck! She was just so…” Sukuna finally manages to string together more than one coherent syllable, running his hefty fingers down his features, like he wanted to scrub the embarrassment off of him. And the tail end of his response rings out as nothing but a whisper. So small, so shy. “…beautiful.”

He looks up at the circle surrounding him like he was pleading, “So, so beautiful.” Baritone dropping into an even lower volume, he scratches the back of his head like a child recounting a crush. “And she- she smiled at me, heh. What’d I do to end up with a wife like her?”

The elders and family members look at each other. 

Silence.

At least, as much silence as you could get in the Itadori Estate. Because, before long, Wasuke clutches his aged heart and gasps, “No!” Only once every pair of eyes has turned to look at him- “My son has no game.”

The emergency services were called that night. 

Though, it’s more for a health check on his father’s heart than for anything gone wrong with your honeymoon. And Jin thinks that’s pointedly to do with the fact that you don’t have a wedding night - at least, not in the sense of the word. 

After he’d offered Sukuna a general health check-up too (he’d vehemently denied) and a heart check-up in particular (he’d considered) you’d finally ended up walking out of the bedroom. Barely getting through one word of their overlapping explanations before you’d held up a hand. 

“It…actually might be better if I don’t know.” You’d sagely remarked, and quite smartly. Before turning to your new husband, who’d all but cowered at your gaze, “But you need to get some sleep, mister. Don’t think I don’t know about how cranky you get otherwise.”

“Hell yeah, ma’am. So true, ma’am.”

And Sukuna had sauntered back into the marital suite of his own accord, for a night of sleep. Nothing but sleep - though, Jin thinks he caught Sukuna fist pumping in celebration when you insisted he didn’t have to sleep on the couch.

There seemed to be no hope for an heir that night. Or, ever, at this rate.

And the trusty council of elders that were present would later retell the story in the morning after, with varying degrees of humor - some cackling about the fearsome head’s one weakness, others grieving the lack of heirs that the Itadori clan shall now have.

But most had been left with quite a different impression. They eyed each other during breakfast, when you’d come down with no marks, no signs of lost sleep. Surely, there was no other explanation - Ryomen Sukuna was impotent. 

He might not be the sweetest clan leader, or the most empathetic, or clearly the most savvy with the ladies, but he was their leader nonetheless. 

And they had to do everything in their power to help.

.

.

.

“-and then the ol’ man starts playing fuckin- I mean, freaking ‘Careless Whisper’ and then I make a fool of myself-”

“Mhm.”

“-but she was oh-so-sweet about it. Which makes no sense, how can one be beautiful and sweet? I mean, look at me- I’m a right bastard-”

“Mhm.”

“-not that I’m complaining. And then when we shared the bed, heh, she told me ‘goodnight.’ Can you believe that? Goodnight? Obviously, she’s into me.”

“Mhm.” Five-year-old Itadori Yuji looks up from where he’d been playing with blocks on the archery dojo, “Uncle Kuna, can we go play hide-and-seek now?”

But the older man lets go the taut, tough string of his bow- hitting the bullseye of his target dead-on. “You’re right! She’s totally into me- heh, ten points for Sukuna.” It was already nearing sundown, and he’d been cooped up in the Estate’s dojo for hours after the fiasco that was his wedding night a few days ago. 

Nothing else had occurred between the two of you since. For which he was equally as grateful as he was disappointed - obviously you didn’t want to spook him. And obviously he wanted you.

But it wasn’t his fault he’d been trained in the arts of commandeering rather than communication. 

Which is how he found himself with that lil’ nephew of his as a therapist, shooting away arrows with the specialized bow designed for Sukuna’s four beefy arms, and fourfold strength. As if that would help ease the tension.

The clan leader opens his mouth again and it’s enough to make Itadori throw himself back onto the polished wooden floor. Starting off- “And did I tell you that when she told me ‘goodnight’ it was in a tone of like-”

“Ahem.”

If there was anything that could make big, bad Sukuna quieten down, then it certainly wasn’t his advisors, or his older brother, or anything else but you. 

And all you had to do was clear your throat once to signal your intrusion, having wandered your way through the massively sprawling Estate. You’d somehow led yourself straight to him.

You bow politely, “I hope I’m not disrupting.”

“C-course not.” To your surprise, your husband speaks first. “We were just-”

“Talking about you-” You giggle as Itadori instantly runs to cling onto your arms. Excitedly squealing at a mile a minute, “Uncle Kuna says that- that he has a huuuuge crush on you and-”

“No!” Sukuna interjects in panic- that traitor. 

“And- and he liked the way you say ‘goodnight’ and-” 

“Itadori Yuji, I will pay you to stop talking.” 

You’re watching the situation like a tennis match, and Yuji does stop - for about three seconds, that is. Until his voice drops into a conspiratorially low whisper, hands cupping his mouth- “Did you know he also called an exorcist-”

“What the f- I did not?” Husky bass damn near cracking, he rips the little boy away from you. “Scram, gremlin.”

Pushing at his back to make the toddler waddle away and give the two of you some space, Sukuna hastens to straighten up and puff his chest out. Making sure that the loose fabrics of his training yukata would slip aside to flash you with a sliver of his toned pecs, glistened with a thin layer of sweat. 

And when - only when - he catches your eyes dipping downwards, he clears his throat—smooth, Ryomen Sukuna. You’ve made people disappear, you can do smooth- “H-hi.”

His vocals crack.

Nearly passing out from the shame - but you don’t seem to mind. “Hi to you, too. I see you’re working hard?”

“Yeah- I mean no.” As you raise a brow, “Who needs ta work hard when you’re just good?”

“Is that so?” It’s a blatant brag, but one that didn’t go unsubstantiated. Your eyes drift to the side to where targets had been lined along the distant wall, each of them punctured right through the middle with a sharp arrow. “Oh, that’s impressive. I don’t think I could ever-”

“Would ya like to try?”

You’re nearly as shocked as Sukuna at the words that escape his mouth, before he can mull and chew over them first. But that swiftly melts into a look of eagerness once you nod- being handed his hefty bow.

“It’s heavier than normal.” Before you know it, he’s sidled up behind you. Leaned down so close that his warm breath blankets your neck- pointed chin hitting somewhere by your temple, tense core pushed up against you. 

So close. Easily, two of Sukuna’s hands help you hold the weight of his massive bow, and another two fall down to your waist to guide you. “Easy there, mama.”

“Th-thank you-” You’re find yourself stammering from the pure intimacy. And it was just so unfair how pliable he found you - heart racing, mind spinning at the thought - angling you bodily to face the targets. “So I just pull and release, then?”

“Mhm. You pull reeeal hard.” Deep, throaty. You’re noticing just how warm his hands were when they’re on yours, helping you pull, pull, pull back on the feathery edge. “Breathe in reeeeal slow.” You do, and you feel him match yours. “Position it.”

His honed strength helps you find the target, and his hands- oh, but his hands were nearly making you lose sight of the bullseye. “Aaand-” Two of his rough palms draaaagging down your sides for stability for him to tower over you, and then two more gently rubbing over your hands for reassurance as you- “-shoot.”

Schwing–!

It lands dead-center in the bullseye.

He grins, “Hell yeah.” 

“Yes!” You’re hissing, bow still in your arms as you leap into Sukuna’s. It was a brief embrace, just the quickest few seconds - but your husband nearly melts.

With your face tucked into the crook of his neck- his eyes nearly bulge out of his sockets, four massive palms hovering in the air like he didn’t know what to do with himself. In a flash, you’re reaching ‘round your body to let him rest them on your back, and he gasps, “O-oh-”

“Oh?” With a slight chuckle, you pull back, and he nearly whines in agony. But this was the Ryomen Sukuna, of course he can hold it back…to merely a slight grunt of pain. “Thank you for teaching me.”

“Thank you for being my wife-”

“Pardon?”

“Nevermind- I uh-” All four palms come up to cover his face in utter horror- it had been going so well if it wasn’t for the clan leader’s big mouth. Everyday was seemingly an unfortunate reminder that he was related to the blabbermouths that were Jin, Yuji, and…

Speaking of, where was Yuji?

Little did he know that a certain pink-haired toddler was holding a certain group of elders hostage behind the screens that led to the dojo’s entrance. Their bodies, formerly leaned over the doorway to spy on the couple, were now crouched on the floor. 

Disappointed- how could their revered clan leader not take the bait? Impotency strikes again.

But, right now, the masterminds were slightly more occupied with something else. Fingers to mouths, voices in whispers- begging the little boy standing in front of them to remain quiet.

But Yuji only smiles, standing proudly in front of them. He whispers, “Do you wanna play hide and seek?”

The council of the greatest minds in the household look at each other, “Uh…no?” Unsure of what else to say to the boy.

Before their ears are pierced by the most noisy child-like shriek of Sukuna’s name—“Uncle Kunaaaaa—it’s the exorcists!”

An arrow shoots their way. And by the way it strikes precisely into the wooden panels between the elders’ heads, precisely where it didn’t harm anything but their motivations, their egos, and perhaps slightly their heart conditions - they’re guessing it was their loving clan leader that shot it.

.

.

.

Sukuna always did hate stuffy clan meetings.

The ones where documents were piled into columns taller than himself, council men and women spoke over each other to try and earn his attention, and he had to act for hours like he actually tolerated the guest invited that day. All in the name of ah- politics, or whatever. 

And today was much the same - except for one shocking, sudden surprise. You. 

You, seated directly opposite him on the large round table now that you were officially part of the clan. You, perfectly positioned for him to take in every pretty inch of you. You, who he’d give anything just to have beside him and chatting his ear off, or helping with his papers.

And, honestly, with a view like that he wouldn’t even complain about being forced to discuss- what was it again-

“The socioeconomic impacts of clan bonding activities and how they-” Choso - who’d recently started attending for education on the clan - drones in such tired monotone, shrugging at their two-toned guest, Zenin Naoya, without looking up from where he was doodling on some contract. “-could really benefit from those.”

“Tch- don’t talk like I didn’t know that, brat.” Sukuna narrows his eyes down at his eldest nephew.

Only to get a withering eyebrow raise in return, “Well, did you?”

“Yes…” No-

And almost as if he could read the pure lie on his uncle’s face, the middle-schooler has the audacity to put his pencil down and grin. More interested in the happenings of the meeting than he had been in four hours now. “Oh really? Well then, dear uncle of mine, would you care to explain to your nephew who comes up with these bonding activities?”

“The fuck do I look like? Stupid? It’s…Jin.” It was a guess, no one else would do something like that. He turns his face away from Choso and towards you. Politely laughing at something that the person next to you had said-

“And why is it important?”

He grumbles, this damn kid. Absent-mindedly- because oh, how was he expected to focus when your lips move to talk so prettily. As if in slow motion, like in those sappy movies Jin loved. “Uh, socio-something or the other-”

“And what do we hope to get out of today?”

“Erm-” Furrowing his brows, laser-focused on wracking his brain when- you turn his way. All you have to do is look at him for Sukuna to blurt- “Six kids, a summer house, and pets of her choice.” 

In stunned silence, Choso only gravely draws a tally count. 

You: 3

Sukuna: -478

“Oi- I’m at least in the double digits-”

“I think you have bigger things to worry about.” He muters, jabbing a pencil in your direction. “Your wife’s about to get stolen.”

And oh.

Ryomen Sukuna didn’t take kindly to snapping his head over and recognizing that slight glint in Naoya’s eyes; the way his mouth curled up meanly, body leaning just a tad closer to yours whenever you pulled back. Not kindly at all. 

Worst of all, he’d just been hit with the realization that it was that rat bastard who’d been making you laugh while he’d been stuck with duties. 

Simply on opposite ends of the room, and yet, it feels like an eternity until the hulking clan leader rises from his seat. Feet pounding their way over to where you were, your eyes raise instantly-

“Oh, there you are.” You start to smile - only for it to falter, coldly, at the shadowed expression on Sukuna’s face. He looked like he’d just seen a raging ghost, and his expression was downturned as such. 

You couldn’t pinpoint whether it had been the stress or the fact that the future heir to the Zenin clan couldn’t take a hint. But you’re trying to soothe him, “You looked quite busy-”

“I was, ah-” He was always weak to anything you said, “-bonding…activities…socioeconomics.”

Sarcastically, “How riveting.”

“No need to worry, I kept her company, though.” An annoying, grating voice bursts through your bubble. And before you can do anything to stop him, Naoya has his arm thrown ‘round the back of your seat. Around the room, one by one, the elders were starting to turn in their own chairs. Discussions dropping to whisper- “And my father always does commend my networking skills, clan leader Sukuna.”

And you think Sukuna might burst. You think he might just rip into him-

But, no. Instead, he breaks out into a smile, “Ah, young master Zenin, huh? Didn’t notice ya there.” A smile that was just slightly jarring, slightly…dangerous. “I see you have met my wife. Quite charming, isn’t she?”

“Yes yes, quite beautiful.” Naoya waves off with a chuckle, elbowing the taller man where he could reach. Huffing, “Though, I must say, it’s quite smart to let the wife inside a clan meeting. Gives you something to look at, at least.”

You seethe, brows furrowing, “Pardon-” But your husband already has a hand signalling you to seat yourself back down comfortably. A commotion was starting to stir by now, and if anyone was going to make a mess of clan politics and reap the consequences, it would be him.

He could and would take the fall for you.

“Young master Naoya.” He declares in a booming voice, “The Itadori clan has decided that we would so ah- love to indulge you in a practical example of our very own bonding activities.”

As you tilt your head in slight confusion - this certainly wasn’t part of the meeting agenda, and the council seemed to notice it, too, Naoya hums. “Oh?”

“Right now. You’re welcome.”

“What? Now? But-” 

As the lanky man scrambles in his seat, Sukuna grasps the very back and topples Naoya right out of it. “No no, let me.” And all it takes is one hand to lift their guest straight into midair and march him out of the room. 

The door slams shut behind the duo.

And you didn’t need to hear the yelps, or the punches, or the begs for mercy to know exactly what your husband had in mind as a ‘bonding activity.’ 

It seemed the member of the Zenin clan would be leaving here bruised for his words, and it seemed that the elders were strangely…excited at the notion? Buzzing impatiently, tittering to each other. 

It only increases twofold as Sukuna re-enters the meeting hall - knuckles suspiciously bruised, and notably without a pompous heir behind him - and you find yourself fighting back a smile. Muttering some half-hearted lecture about treating guests well, which he seems to lap every word of, you end it off by reaching upwards and kissing the side of Sukuna’s cheek. 

Fleeting and innocent.

But the elders gasp-

“Oh my god- oh my god, it’s happening—”

“My money’s on a girl child being the firstborn-”

“-maybe he’s only half-impotent-”

Keen eardrums catching the whispers and congratulations, you only have the time to catch the tips of his cheekbones smearing bright red - before the clan leader stumbles back out of the meeting room.

“Oh, I think I jinxed it-”

Choso, meanwhile, crinkles his nose and reaches for his eraser and pencil once more. 

Sukuna: -477

“Gnarly.”

.

.

.

“Uncle Kuna—-!” It was inevitable that every single person inside of Yuji’s cute lil’ kindergarten would end up knowing when his father wouldn’t be able to pick him up, and his uncle would arrive instead.

For one, it was all he would talk about the day beforehand. And two, they’d all hear his shrill squeal- except, most students and teachers used to this little ritual were probably shocked at the scream that followed after. “Mama—!”

And you were just as caught off-guard. 

Somewhere, in the distant bushes at the very end of the kindergarten playground, a few elders and Itadori Jin fistbump one another. All those lessons, not gone to waste!

“Ah- Yuji?” You’re fighting the way your voice wobbles in surprise, and it felt like a tiny cannonball had been shot at you with the way he runs straight to you. “What did you say, baby?”

Somewhat confused, two large eyes peak up at you. And his voice is tiny, “Mama?”

Ruffling the curly pink locks of Yuji’s hair, you just-so-happen to glance at the boy’s uncle. Your husband. Who was currently steaming from his ears and flushed bright crimson, veins bulging at his forehead, mouth opening and closing stupidly. “I- you- who-”

He was speechless.

Barely even breathing- honestly, you’re hit with the slight urge to reach forwards and feel for Sukuna’s pulse before a calm voice breaks through. “Ah! I see Yuji’s favorite uncle is here today.” A soft, bowl-cut man claps his hands as he walks up. Your eyes drop down to his nametag and read ‘Haibara.’ “And you must be-”

“My wife-” Sukuna spits out, before another word can leave Haibara’s mouth. “My wife, Jin could never pull anyone like-”

“Excuse my husband.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With yourself properly introduced - this time with names - you find yourself laughing along to one of Haibara’s anecdotes of Yuji, something to do with a dare and attempting to eat a terribly finger-shaped stick. He smiles breezily at you and hums, “He’s a good kid, and seems to be very fond of you. You should come visit more often.”

“Well, I hope to.” Grinning right back, you squeeze Yuji’s squirming body as Sukuna takes off his tiny back-pack. And you can’t help but think that it all felt so…domestic. 

Evidently, the cozy atmosphere had been obvious. Haibara ponders out loud, “Forgive me for asking, but do the two of you plan on having children soon? You seem like you’d be wonderful parents.”

Oh, you look at Sukuna. And Sukuna doesn’t meet your eyes, though, with his face turned straight ahead- what you could see was the way the tips of his ears were slowly starting to redden.

It seems like ages, it seems like he was waiting for your answer just as Haibara innocently was. And your mouth opens-

“Mister Haibawa, Yuji’s uncle can’t be a parent, he’s already an exorcist.” What the f—the trio of adults snapped their heads down to see that a black-haired boy - another Zenin, confound it - had just tugged on his teacher’s sweater. Butting into the conversation- Sukuna thinks he could recall this boy’s name, something Gummy? Megumi?

“Oh?” Then it wasn’t an orange-haired girl on his other side, “My mommy says he’s unemployed.”

“That, too.”

Somewhere, in the distant bushes at the very end of the kindergarten playground, a few elders and Itadori Jin facepalm. All those lessons, gone to waste!

“Well I don’t think he can be a parent because he looks stupid.” This time, one burly boy with a buzzcut enters the scene. And he was sparing no punches, both metaphorically and literally - he knocks out a good few backhands against Sukuna’s core. 

“That, too.”

“He doesn’t look stupid, Todo.” His nephew whines at him- that’s his boy! 

Sukuna could almost shed a tear, oh, how proud he was. So proud, in fact, that he’s hoisting the babbling boy over his shoulders without a second thought. 

Maybe Jin hadn’t completely failed as a father, after all. Maybe the boy wasn’t a hopeless case and had actually come to appreciate the strong, kind parental figure that was his uncle- “He just looks sorta stupid when he thinks he’ll embarrass himself in front of his wife. Because he does that a lot. That’s all.”

“Like the time with the exorcist.” Megumi nods, sagely.

“Like the time with the exorcist.” Yuji agrees, smacking the top of Sukuna’s head. 

“There- there was no time with the exorcist.” The clan leader tries to clarify to an extremely confused Haibara. 

And the girl - Nobara, according to the nametag on her glittery back-pack - points up at him, accusing. “I like his hair. He also can’t be a parent because he wears wigs.”

Sukuna growls, “You’re just jealous, bob-cut-”

You furrow your brows, “Do you wear wigs?”

“No.”

Yuji giggles, “Will you wear wigs?”

“No-”

“When will you wear wigs?” 

“Never!” Honestly, children these days. He damn near pounces on Haibara, who’d asked that last question.

Megumi - honestly what was this kid’s problem - seems to pipe up for the sake of piping up, “And he steals candy from babies.”

“That was one time-”

“Hey hey-” Without warning, Todo was tugging on Sukuna’s trousers to gain his attention. Snickering as the older man looks down with the most weary face in existence, “You wanna learn how to actually impress fine shyt?”

“What is…fine sh-”

“That’s enough for today. I think.” Their teacher claps his hands, “And Todo Aoi what have I told you about using certain words? Don’t think I won’t have a talk with your guardian again, young man.” Flustered, he throws an apologetic look your way before corralling his tiny students inside. “Now- inside!”

You can finally breathe a sigh of relief - finally, finally. 

Though, you don’t know what bewilders you more - the fact that they listen, or the fact that Todo was the only one that didn’t. And it was all because of the fact that he had Ryomen Sukuna kneeled down to match his height, mouth snarling, but head nodding intently to whatever Todo was whispering in his ear. You look at Haibara, and he shrugs just as helplessly.

“Umm…mister Haibara?” Another one. The pink-haired man’s soul damn near leaves his body as another teeny, toddling monster starts pulling on the teacher’s sweater. 

Likely expecting an encore of the chaos just prior, his smile stretches thin. “Yes, Toge?” And you, too, start praying that it wasn’t any more love advice, or choice words about Sukuna’s character.

Pale hair cut into severe bangs, the boy mumbles in a small voice, “There’s some old men in the bushes.”

Ryomen Sukuna has never run up to a bush to kick it so fast. 

And, later, with Jin left explaining to the teachers and the elders still walking off their bruises, he found himself walking down a softly sunlit road with you. Yuji now fast asleep on his shoulders, and you by his side.

It was a perfect day. Made only more perfect by the gentle tugging of your husband’s fingers towards yours, in midair. In all his years, it’s perhaps the scariest thing he’s done. They hesitate, and then they reach - the slow curves of his digits gliding down your wrist, before interlocking with yours. Warm. Firm. And yet, softer than his palms have ever felt. 

He thinks he catches you smiling, and Sukuna thinks Todo’s advice might not have been so bad after all. 

And from a nearby bush, Itadori Jin pumps his fist in success. Impotency or not, not a complete waste, then.

.

.

.

One night a week later, the elders decide, push should come to shove.

Literally; cold towels were thrust into your hands before you’d been shoved through the damp wooden gates of the Itadori household’s bathroom. It was the largest one, special in the way a large portion of the room was occupied by a steaming hot spring.

And from your position at the very edge of the humid chamber, you could see the toned shoulders of Ryomen Sukuna. Back turned to the door, just the upper half of his body was peaking out of the water. Glistened with dampness, deltoids flexed as he leans his elbows back against the floor.

You’re semi-glancing behind you at the members of the council that had all but thrown you inside- something about ‘marital bonding.’ Which was really just a way for them to take care of their head’s little ah…rumored problem. 

To them, it was perfect - your gorgeous wife comes up to you in a hot spring and…helps. What more could he want? After all, there’s nothing wrong with impotency - there was just something wrong with their clan leader.

You’re game either way.

And you gently knock against the wall to denote your entrance, before walking up to where Sukuna was gawking from now. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“Helping.” You reply simply, wringing the towels before folding them over his heated forehead. “Do you wish for me to leave-”

“N-no!”

It comes out faster than he’d have liked, more hitched than he would have liked. Honestly, the sentence barely even leaves your lips before Sukuna sits up straighter. Letting sploshes of scalding water drip down his abs, he leans further back against your touch. “I mean- stay.”

“Mhm, I heard you had a long day.”

“The worst, mama.” And part of his response is half-grunted with the way you’ve now situated yourself properly behind him. With your lap now a bed for his damp head, fingers weaving through those coral pink locks. “Had to refurbish the dojo, then take care of the problem with that damn Zenin brat…then donate to Yuji’s…kindergarten, then…promote a few elders… and one I had to…” Heavier and heavier, he was sinking into you with each nimble movement of your fingertips. “-fuck.”

“You fucked an elder before you fucked me?” You raise a brow in humor.

“Huh- no!” He’s growling, steam curling from the water. And as you’d briefly halted your ministrations to tease him, he guides your hands back to move. “I would never…eugh. Shit, can’t even imagine doing somethin’ like that with anyone but you.”

Suddenly, it’s silent. Except for the slow curdle of the water, and the soft grunts that Sukuna was oh-so-desperately trying to bite back. 

Fuck, he was so handsome.

Such naturally chiselled muscles, and dark circular tattoos on just about every joint he had. 

You massage his burning temples, slipping down into the longish length of his hair. “Oh, is that so? And do you imagine it often with me, clan leader Sukuna?”

“Stop being such a fuckin’ tease.” Hissing, Sukuna’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs as he practically begs. And he looked so pretty when he was begging; brows upturned, mouth unintentionally pouty. “How can I help myself?”

“And am I doing anything to stop that?”

“Yes-” Forgoing the massage, Sukuna now stops your right hand. Holding it tightly as he turns his head and presses a kiss to the tender inside of your wrist, hot with water and his blush. “Just existing is enough.”

“Sukuna…”

Your mouth parts, and it’s like a string being drawn- your lips are on his. It’s messy, with the way he’d angled himself from upside down, tilted up just to sliiide the plushness of his mouth across yours. It’s light, like he was holding himself back.

And you knew what he was capable of.

Which was likely what made you reach for the back of his head, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. Gasping, your mouth just barely parts for his hungry maw to clasp ‘round your sugary tongue. Sucking—before-

Before a button clicks, and suddenly the bathroom walls are trembling with lyrics singing ‘I just had sex—’

You could’ve caught whiplash with how fast you’re both staring at the entrance: meeting with the sight of the several elders, Wasuke, and a ridiculously large boombox. Piled onto an embarrassing heap on the floor, they’d seemingly fallen over- likely from their spying over one corner of the door. 

‘And it felt so good—’

“Wrong one dammit- this is what Wasuke was on music.” You’re catching one of them murmur. Just about the only thing they have time for before scurrying away - leaving the boombox very, very behind. And you don’t have to look behind you to know that Ryomen Sukuna was likely seething enough to make the spring water itself bubble. 

Sukuna growls, “Fucking George Michael.”

“Actually I think that’s Akon.”

Sukuna slams his open palm against the edge of the pool, and you have to open up your palms to stop yourself from being splashed. He murmurs, more to himself, “All because I didn’t wanna fuckin’ scare you- not that they’d-”

“Wait, why’d you think you’d scare me?” You ask in confusion.

To which he looks at you in genuine bewilderment, as if that wasn’t even worthy to be a question. “You’re beautiful.” He states, like there were no truer words. 

Before gesturing at himself- those naturally rosy locks, the four arms, the faint slash across his abs where they said his second mouth was to be. Cursed with strength, cursed with power, cursed with looks that defined him as something more than human. “Look at me- just fuckin’ look at me. And that’s not all- how shall I be expected to live a normal marriage when I’ve been cursed from birth? I only ask for forgiveness that I’d been selfish with my choice of you, my wife-”

“Well, I don’t forgive you.” 

It’s silence, and he looks torn between hanging his head in understanding, and taking your words head on.

“Because I think you’re beautiful, too.” You say it honestly. “My beautiful husband.”

And, for not the last time that night, the big, bad cursed Sukuna blushes.

‘Felt so good~’

.

.

.

“Sh-shit—” Your back arches lewdly, allll the way back until your naked, puffy core could reach as much of Sukuna’s mouth as possible. “Think I like it better when you’re like- ngh, this.”

Just a few minutes and one rapid trip to your bedroom later found you with your previous clothes in a heap across Sukuna’s bedroom floor. Your thighs shakin’, hips bucking wildly as you straddled his mouth—no, not his first. 

You were riding his second mouth.

The wildly monstrous one slashed across the middle of his stomach, large and hungry. He’d gaped it open immediately once you’d clamored up his washboard abs, letting the curled tip of his second tongue slide deftly between your inner thighs.

Playfully flickering in patterns straight up to the target of your cunt-

“Haaah, so you’ve decided you like- mmm, this mouth more than me?” One of his four hands teasingly dips downwards to grace your pussy with a solid spank. 

So loud, so wet that it makes his cursed mouth lick its lips in greed. “Really not gonna talk t’me now then? Not even through these lips?” Another one. And it’s letting off the rawest slurp that muffles your own squeal- “Though, I think she disagrees, huh, baby?”

Through gritted teeth, you somehow manage to force out, “Shut up-”

“Alright alriiiight.” Sukuna trails off, seemingly back to focusing on the ministrations of his tongue. 

Your eyes are dangerously on the verge of criss-crossing as he glissades it up every bead of slick escaping you. Laid flat n’ draaaaagging across every inch of skin he could reach, the flexible tip of his tastebuds were just barely touching your treacly folds when-

Spank!

Even harder this time. And your mind whirls stupidly at the stinging sensation that just felt so good- “N-ngh, fuck–”

You were bending so cutely on top of him, and Sukuna can’t help but lean his hulking figure further down the king-sized mattress. “Atta girl.” Bucking up so that you’re fully seated on top of his second mouth now, slick dribbling all down his obliques, his cursed tongue glued to your clit. 

Sticking between your folds, his pinkish tastebuds rover ‘round and ‘round that fat nub where you were most sensitive. Just barely gurgling out, “And here I th-thought you were shy-” 

“And here I thought you were dumbified, hmpf.” With a roll of his eyes, your husband chuckles. “Guess not yet.”

It was as much a warning as he would give you - and it wasn’t a warning at all.

Before the fat girth of his finger is rudely pryin’ apart your pussylips and shoving the first few inches inside. Until you’re being spearheaded by him, he’s trying to scope every inch of you. He’s trying to snake his muscle in until he’s probed into every nook n’ cranny.

“F-fuuuuuck—” Sukuna groans out, watching through half-lidded peripherals at the way your tight hole was trying to suck him up. So thick, he can count every throb of your walls around him, one-two-three-four- “Are we sure yer not dumbified- hah, already? Look how fucking wet ya are, mama.”

“N-ngh, Kuna—”

Your whines are botched with pants, after each time his finger is swabbing its way inside. Fitting in two- moving in the slightest half-ruts just to fit inside- again. And again and again.

Each passing second had him probin’ into a new corner of your pussy - and yet, it still wasn’t enough for the clan leader. Which is why Sukuna finds his tongue slithering back and forth your folds, pushing them apart until he was given a front row seat to your depravity. “See? A damn- fuck- waterpark. Are ya always like this or m’I just special, huh?”

“You’re not gonna be special if you- mmpf, talk so- ngh, much-” The stretch is so incredible that you’re forced to bite down on the gummy insides of your cheek. A necessity if you didn’t want to wake the entire house up tonight.

But Sukuna had other plans.

Rose brows raising in slight surprise, “Ohhhh? That good, huh?” The edges of his sleazy grin twitch once he’s tuggin’ on your dripping wet entrance even further, pumping in the expanse of a third lengthy finger. “M’just gonna take that as a sign m’special~”

“Kuna-”

Oh, you were just so pretty huffin’ and puffin’ atop him like this. It’s enough to make his second mouth slobber with greed, edging dangerously towards the circle of your stuffed hole. “Alright alriiight. Brace yourself, baby.”

“Brace m- wha- oh.”

Before you know it, his fat fingerpads are pushed oh-so-deeply inside. So deep that you think he’s filling out every drivelling orifice, pumping furiously. 

Sukuna fucks you with his fingers like he’s trying to make you remember. Like he’s trying to hook into all of your sweetest spots, the ridges of his joints brush up slightly against your g-spot. You mewl, “It’s so- oh, I’ve never felt so full-”

“Yeahhhh- those fingers of yours can’t do this, huh? Poor thing.” Fauxly cooing, he’s rovering you so open. Your husband’s fingers were so big that he didn’t even have to try to leave you trembling- to leave you whimpering as he pulls out in a quick split-second.

Wordlessly despite your disappointed cries, you crack your teary eyelids open to find that Sukuna was slipping off the silver metal wedding ring off of one of his left hands. And pushing it down onto his slick-glazed right hand- before thoroughly thrusting. “S’gonna be a stretch- gonna be a biiig stretch. You can take it, mama.”

“C-can I?” Your thighs twitch stupidly at the frigid feeling of his ring scraping your soft insides. 

This way, you could pinpoint the exact way he was moving inside of you: in and out in and out, curling to hit your g-spot. 

And Sukuna can tell the exact moment his stirrin’ fingers target your most sensitive spot- because you’re panting, you’re bucking. You’re throwing your head back once he plunges his slick-glazed fingers out to do it all over again and again, until his knuckles hit your pussylips raw. “Hell yeah, ya can. How’re you gonna, mmm, take all of me if you can’t even- oh, take these, hm?”

You’re pouting, “I-I can…”

“What’s that?”

In an effort to prove it to him, you bounce your hips right back into his sloppy cadence. “I can-” And it only makes your cunt squelch even louder the closer you are to his slippery tongue. 

“You can?”

“Y-”

His hips jerk upwards roughly, grazing that ridged texture of his tastebuds from the very bottom of your pussy, up, up, up to the tip of your slope. And it’s loud. “You can?” Your heart races, it’s only then that you realize he wasn’t talking to you - he was talking to your other pair of lips. “Then take it- take- ngh.”

Harder and harder. His probin’ mess was reaching a fever point and you’re rubbing yourself pathetically on the prolonged muscle of his tongue. 

And the more ravenous his cursed mouth became - edging his globular tip nearer n’ nearer to your stretched-out hole - the more ruined he was becoming. Bucking himself up animalistically, two hands of his control the grindin’ of your hips- manhandling you down just enough so that the wetness of your cunt just barely touches his rock-hard cocks. 

“F-fuck!” You’re whining at the feeling of two thick mushroomy tips touching your skin. 

And Sukuna doesn’t touch himself- no matter how many hands he has. Having you on top of him like this would be a sure-fire way to cream himself in his pants before he even started. His pretty lips wobbling, eyes scrunching closer the harder his aching erections throbbed. 

He was so sexy. And you can’t stop yourself from staring- something he notices even when he’s in this state. “Wh-what?” Flinching at the sheer intensity, “The fuck are ya looking at, huh?”

“I’m just th-thinking…” And you have to stop yourself from moaning as he pulls out his plump fingers in punishment. They were glistening, dripping with so much of your juicy sap that Sukuna sucks clean in front of you. 

Before slipping back in—“That I’d- oh- love to make you, mmm, shut up.”

Rolling his crimson eyes, “Oh, you’d love to make me shut up, huh?” And he was so smug. So sure of himself…until the leader catches onto the way you’d been rutting against his second mouth. Riding. And, slowly, those hazy peripherals of his widen- “Fuck…don’t tell me-”

You only nod.

“-you seriously wanna be fucked by my cursed mouth?”

Nodding drunkenly again-

“O-oh.” His head falls back into the satin pillows as you’re slipping it in, the slimy tendril of his tongue finally scouring into where he’d wanted to for so long now. 

It feels incredible. 

Finally hooking ‘round your tight entrance to push in, in, in—he’s just so big that once Sukuna’s unfurling his greedy tongue, it feels damn near never-ending. And you felt so tight pulsing around him, squeezing him inside once, twice, thrice. “Ya- ya really are gonna be the death of me- fuck!”

You start to ride him and it makes the big, bad Ryomen Sukuna mooooan, twitching his way inside of you. Since you were already softened up by his fingers, it was easy work for him to pull out and immediately replace himself with those rude tastebuds of his. 

Straightened out so he can probe around your walls, the length of his cursed tongue was pumping n’ pumping.

You’d never felt anything like this before. And you swear you see the mouth on his belly chuckle darkly as he fucks you like he would with his cocks. Salivating. Sploshing your poor insides until you have him memorized. 

Sukuna’s tongue swerves along your walls until he brushes the very back of your cervix, softly mushing it in. Again. And again. And again—“Fuh-fuuuuck—” You’re gurgling out, wet wads of saliva dribbling down each side of your lips. “Who’s the one dumbified now?”

“Wh-what- ngh-” His eardrums were popped from the pure pressure, barely able to make out your words.

And through the constant rams of his tongue, you manage to string together- “I-I said, who’s the- oh, dumbified one n- oh!”

“You.” In that very moment, he has his bumpy tastebuds glued to your g-spot, his hips arching right off the tense bedsprings, core tensed. Sukuna slashes his cursed mouth into your favorite area and grooooans, “Still you.”

Mouth prattling nonsensically, “Th-that’s cheating-”

“Nuh uh.”

He squeezes your perked clit with the tips of his rude fingers, still with the ring on one of them. And the backs of your eyes explode with white-hot pleasure at the dual pleasure - his tongue fucking you ferally, his digits teasing your clit. “Yes it is- hngh, because it’s gonna make me…”

Cum.

You were so close, you could feel it in each swab of his tongue. Gaped open even wider for the most maximum movements, each thrash is angled just right against your g-spot.

Just right to stretch out your glistening walls until they’re taking the shape of him. And he hums, “Yeahhhhh— all over.” Your clingy slick is drenching his abs by now, like a waterfall that he’s scooping up with a fourth hand. 

One on your clit, two on your hips to move you pliably up n’ down his length, and his final one getting absolutely soaked. Sukuna brings them up to his primary mouth to suck off the layers of candied slick, smearing it all over his lips like some delicacy. “Yeah, allll over now, mama. Make a hah- mess of me.”

Your jaw unfastens as you watch him clean himself off, every single drop. “Oh my…hngh.”

“What? Mmm, jealous?” Ruder, harder. It was just so sloppy how his mouth rovered all over your cunt, slippin’ and slidin’ back and forth at a constant pace. “Maybe if you were, hah, patient, you could’ve gotten that.”

“As if I’d want that…” You’re huffing, stubborn.

“My wife, you’re just- about- to cum- on me.” The space between each word is slashed with a push of his rovering fat tip, and a thorough squeeze on your clit.

To which you’re shooting back- “And you were about to cum- ngh, untouched.”

And you think he’ll tease you back. You think he’ll bully you until you’re driven mad - but Ryomen Sukuna was moaning in agreement.

Speeding up the pace of his velvety tongue, he’s slithering it with a deep bash against your g-spot. Grunting, “Can you blame me?” Harder. Something at the back of his throat cracks. He begs, “Such a pretty, oh, fuckin’ wife like you and- and I’m expected to stay calm?”

Hiccuping, “I- I don’t- Kuna, I’m not gonna last-”

Faster. “M’expected not to get pussydrunk? Expected to not fucking- lose it. F-fuck-” Sloppier. 

And you don’t get to hear what the tail end of his sentence might have been. Because with a few more vulgar strokes, you’re breaking apart—cumming. 

Lids cracking with tears, lips wobbling out whines.

His name, over and over again. Your cute noises are so loud that he has half the mind to wonder whether those damn elders will hear, “Cum—ing-” You announce, belatedly. Body shaking with each peak of your high, “Feels so- so good, oh.”

“Does it, now?” He babbles away, drunk on your honeyed pussy. The sheer primal clench of your walls almost made it hard for him to fuck you through your wave of bliss. “Good- good, atta girl, cream all down my t-tongue now.”

The curvaceous tip of his tongue was constantly pricking your g-spot, and it only drags out your orgasm even further. Until you were nothing but a sobbing mess, “Am- oh, I am.”

“Mhmmm— go ahead.” Your thighs twitch, head dropping backwards as the last few dredges of your high are pounded away. “Go ahead- take it. Take it all out on me.” With a few twinges of electricity that zap down your spine, you can finally manage to crack open your eyes. 

But you notice that just as you’ve reached your high, Sukuna did, too. 

Or, at least, he was trying oh-so-desperately not to.

As your pace lazes, his two hands on your waist glide down to his plump, aching erections. Both sets of thumbs rover on top of his leaking orifices, squeezing just so he won’t leak out in cum. Stopping himself from cumming untouched. 

And that makes you huff, “Kuna…” Your newfound nickname for him makes him flush, and you instantly swat away his hands. “Want it now.”

“Cheh-” Those hazy, blood-red eyes of his narrow, and somewhere in the distance, you can hear the tight snap of his underwear being pulled. “What a spoiled lil’ wife…”

But that wouldn’t stop him from indulging you, of course.

Sukuna breathes in heavy puffs, and you barely even have the time to catch yours before he’s immediately clawing onto the right side of your ass cheek with one hand.

Usin’ that sinful leverage to manhandle you straight down onto one of his plush tips, the thick circumference of his shaft throbs against your hole and you moan. Head snapping down- “Fuck.”

Oh, fuck.

He was so…big.

And that was being humble- you’d come to learn that not only was Sukuna gifted with extra height and limbs, he was gifted with extra size too. 

Two fat, veiny lengths laid between two meaty thighs, they were colored the prettiest tan flush on their tips. Dribbling down heaps of precum that puddled between the two of you. By now, the curly pink hairs at the bottom of his bases were already drenched, and his ballsack was so tight with need. 

 Sukuna was so hard that every throb was visible. So big that it made your thighs squeeze together.

Mentally, you’re calculating just how it might be possible for him to fit inside you. Before his rough tone cuts off your thoughts, “Ah ah- we can count together, mama. Say it w’me now-” 

“Wha- one!” Almost laughable, he’s then bullying in just the thickened front of one cock. They were stacked vertically, and as you get pierced by the lower one, his upper one was rubbin’ primally on your front. 

Sukuna’s mean fingers draw an invisible line from up your treacly slit, measuring. “Mmm- s’more like two inches.”

“Two-” You blabber, “Then how much more-”

“Guess we’ll just have to find out, heh~”

And he meant it.

Before long, Sukuna was fucking up into you furiously. Ferally. Thrust after half-thrusts just to fit his incredible size inside, “Tha’s about four…mmm, more three.” He’s drunk on your pussy, counting away how many solid, sopping inches managed to be squeezed in each time. In a split-second, your poor pussy’s being spanked. “You too, baby.”

“It’s just so- ngh—” Your head throws back for the nth time tonight, singing in synchronization with the creaks of the bed. 

It’s like he was jackhammerin’ you, mazing your slick-filled insides with the globe of his cockhead. Sukuna was so long that it was easy to massage your every sweet spot- again and again. “Whaaaat? Can’t take it? Fuck, wee’re only about-” On your tummy, he measures out how far he’d slid inside by now. “S-six inches, still. About halfway?”

Your eyes bulge—halfway?

It’s a shock so large that the rest of your body loosens up, weakened. Just perfect for him to grab onto your hips, your thighs, one hand on your neck to jostle your cute body up n’ down his cock.

“S’it too much for my, mmm, good wife?” Mercilessly, he’s spitting between your ajar mouth. “Took my tongue but you can’t even take one of my cocks- aw, c’mon now, mama.”

“I-I-”

“I-I-I- whaaaat?” Octaves higher. Your husband leans in until his heated breath burns the shell of your ear, whispering, “Gonna hafta speak up, y’know? Unless ya want me to- fuck- it out- of you-”

And you always did surprise him. Because where the head of the Itadori clan expected to be met with a few sobs, a few pleas, you’re only straddling his toned hips tighter. 

Swervin’ your hips down in a dizzying figure-eight to help him stuff your cunt full of him. And even though it still wasn’t enough to bottom out completely, you look up at him through teary lashes. “I want both, Kuna.”

Sukuna’s pink lashes flutter, his breath catches. “Wh-what?” And he stutters. Oh, you’d made him stutter - just as nervous and awestruck as he was on your wedding night.

“Both.” You can only repeat the word.

Because at that very second– before your response has even graced his very ears, he’s rutting up into you like an animal. Like a dog in heat, Sukuna’s crushing your front to his abs and his cocks to your cunt.

Pap!

“Fuck…” He hisses at the sting of flesh slamming on flesh, “Eleven. What was that?”

And you’re being dumbified by the sheer stretch, not only had he started kissin’ your puckered pussylips with his second cock - he was starting to press inside. No hesitation, no waiting around for you to get used to the stretch. Sukuna was hungry. 

You somehow choke through wads of your own spit, “More- both- oh fuck!”

“What? S-say it again-” He’s like a broken record at this point, and so were his plunging cocks. Deeper n’ deeper. Your drivelling entrance was now stretched out so widely over the circumferences of his bases, sobbing just as much as you were. 

“Bo-”

“Twelve- again.”

It was a damn wonder that he could still spit out coherent words. Stammering. Heaving.

The hand of Sukuna’s that’d been caressing your front was now slithering down to cup both his shafts. Guiding them upwards to press in—“Gonna have ya take it a-all until here-” You snap your head down to see what he was talking about - only to catch a lil’ you’d missed in your observations of his size before. 

Those two ring tattoos at the base ends of his cocks.

The sight itself is so lecherous that it has you moaning- “Oh, yes- both.”

“Yeah? So sit pretty and take it, baby.” They were glistening with your sultry sap, nearly kissing your folds by now. “Allll the way until m’tattoos- got it, girl? Alllll the way until…” Stupidly, you’re nodding. And he can only breathe through clenched teeth, “Fuh-fuck! Thirteen.”

Thirteen.

Thirteen entire inches - each.

You’d finally reached the tattoos. And they were stuffed pretty n’ puffily inside you. Throb-throb-throbbing away against your every tiny orifice, Sukuna didn’t even have to try to mold your gooey cunt to him. 

As you open your mouth to demand him to move, he plunges in two of his thick fingers. Messily dragging himself towards the back of your throat, “Tch- such a dangerous fuckin’ mouth. M’gonna hafta fuck that outta ya.”

You’re whimpering, your jaw dangling agape perfectly for him to spit inside. And then his second mouth—targetting your pussy with a thick glue of spittle.

At least he was nice enough to give you an actual semi-warning this time.

Because before long, two hands are clawing at your sides. Pinning you down so that his two shafts can prick your cervix neatly, bottomed out and yet still trying to go deeper.

When he finds that futile, Sukuna bodily bounces you up n’ down his upright erections. “Oh my god- o-oh my god.” One of his angular shafts was bashing in your sponged cervix, and the other was just below n’ cutely rubbing on your g-spot. “Fuck it just feels so- good!”

“Aaaaatta girl, enjoy it.” With a hand on your throat, he bends you back into an arch. 

The pressure is almost too much - so much. You find your body naturally torn between running away and yearning for more, more, more. Though, luckily, the clan leader’s there to help you make that decision. “Nuh uh, no runnin’, baby. Put your back into it- taaaake it, you see how much she likes it?”

“Can- can hear-”

“Mhm—”

And truly, your overfilling pussy was so loud. Every splatter of precum inside you made the most primal squelches- and the volume? 

The sheer sploshes of his gooey translucent sap was enough to bloat your pussy. But now with two plump, vein-covered cocks of his probin’ your innards, he was fucking a tummy bulge into you. You gasp at the feeling, “I d-didn’t even know that was- hck! possible-”

“Heh, course it is—And y’know how to make that cute lil’ tummy bulge of yours even bigger?” Sukuna beckons you closer, like he’s about to tell you a secret.

Even though, really, he’s manhandling you like a ragdoll. Reeling you in until his scorched hot lips were grazing your own, murmuring. “I just…hafta…fuck a baby into you, my wife.”

Almost on cue - like a little preparation - both of his strawberry-red divots stream out a few beads of precum. Splattered against your walls, they drip n’ cream down the sides of your pussy and make you see stars. “I would like that- oh, I would- I would like that.”

“Mmm— and what about you?”

Evidently, your needy cunt’s in agreement, too. Because the wettest noises suddenly let off from between your legs- and only later do you realize that it wasn’t just because of how damp your pussy was. No, it was because of his second mouth.

Tonguing down the shimmery sheen of slick upon each of your thighs, he licks up every drop of juice you were leaking. Flicking the curly end of his tongue at your clit-

“Ah ah- focus on me.” Sukuna snaps you out of your high with a light spank on your slope, and a literal click of his fingers. 

“B-but how can I when it feels so goood—”

“So goooood, huh?” He drags it out purposefully, pressing his thumping veins against the roof of your channel. 

Sukuna knew the effect he had on you. He knew how to target your favorite spot in strikes so precise that it left your toes curling, vision flashing with white. “Tell me-” Right now, he had one hand smearing apart your folds to better let his tongue slip between them. Another two hands clung onto your waist to help you move, and the fourth and final was grabbing your face. Pushing your cheeks together pathetically, “Can’t focus? Awww, my poor wife. Are that- oh, useless at focusing on anything that isn’t my two c-cocks right now?”

“N-ngh, Kuna—” Cute. How cute. Your dilated pupils were swirlin’ in circles inside the whites of your eyes, comically pounded stupid after each stroke upon stroke.

“S’that the case, huh? Is that why my mouthy girl is so- oh, fuck- quiet now?” He’s almost snickering- it’s so ruthless. 

Heavy hips pressuring up into you. He was pounding you in rough thrusts, all the way from the mazing curve of his cockheads to those tickling tufts of pink at his very bottom. And Sukuna has the audacity to spit—“Fuck, mama. Do you even know your name right now?”

Your brain was too hazy, merely sparking with twitches of pleasure. You’re left blubbering nonsensically for a few seconds, until his tongue slaps your buttony clit. Startling you into answering, “I-I…”

“Heh, do you even know mine?”

“K-Kuna—” You might not remember your own name by now, but screaming Sukuna’s over n’ over had permanently branded his into your mind. 

And so you look up at your husband’s handsome, leering features for any recognition. Only to find him tutting, “Now now, how disa- oh, disappointing. I thought you’d most importantly know who I am, at least.”

“Then…clan leader?”

“Nuh uh.”

Pouting, “B-but ”

“B-b-b-but-” He’s mocking, buttery tongue now rubbin’ your nub raw. You felt overstimulated enough to press your chin between his puffy pecs, like cushions. Sheening out drool all over his skin- “Say my title before you cum, baby.” You listen with bated breath, “M’your husband. And m’always gonna be your husband.”

“M-my husband?” Your mouth drops - and you’re unsure whether it’s because of his words, or the sudden increase of his tempo. Hot and hard.

His twin, rock-hard crowns plummet all the way until you swear you can feel him poke your lungs. Throbbing at a thunderous staccato, he breathes—“Gonna be your husband that fucks you like th-thiiiis—” Punctuated by a few sloppy drags of his vein-decorated lengths, “Gonna be your husband that eats you out like m’starved.” A few hearts that he’s drawin’ on your clit with his extra prolonged tongue.

“Fuck- fuck I’m gonna—”

As your sobs break off, his roughened hand dips from your throat to the slick n’ precum dripping down your thighs. And you faintly notice the way he’s using the moisture to write out his own name—

Ryomen Sukuna. 

Signed off with a little heart on your skin, “And m’gonna be your husband that…” And a second heart right above where your womb was, where he was jackhammering into your womb like no other. Flooding it with copious knots of cum like he was practising for something else soon. 

Sukuna leans down sweetly so that his lips trace your earlobe, whispering. “-breeds this pretty pussy alllll full.” Tapping the front of your pussy, like he was just imagining it.

And that does it for you. That does it.

Before long your head falls into the crook of his neck with a dull thud, so utterly dumbified on your sudden orgasm that you can only blabber. “Kuna- Kuna—!” 

Your thighs were shaking, cunt fluttering with each spasm of pleasure.

And if Sukuna was going to fuck you through your high, he was going to fuck you through your high. Every probe of his rovering cocks increased your bliss tenfold, exact hits to your g-spot. 

Sobbing, “Please-” You can only hold onto his flexed, tattooed deltoids for dear life. Clawing down his skin due to the constant stimulation, you bow your spine backwards and meet his ferocious thrusts. Riding out the euphoria- spark after spark that made your toes curl.

Grunting, he just felt so used right now. And he loved it. “Yes yes yes- let this entire house know. Let that whole council ngh- hear how good of a husband I am to you.”

It lasts until you’re gurgling on your own whines, zaps of electricity still shooting from your cunt. “Let them-” And Sukuna dares to smush your tear-wettened cheeks together to coo, “Fuck, what’s that–? What’s that pretty mouth hafta- hngh, say t’me?”

And you somehow manage out, “I-inside.” A shaky hand of yours snakes down to part your pussylips wider, helping his roverin’ tongue. “My husband…”

Ryomen Sukuna’s eyes widen, his kiss-bitten lips part.

You could almost hear the deep, trembling gasp that he’s inhaling. Letting out only five words—“I l-love you, my wife.”

You aren’t granted the time to formulate a response- before his thick, battered cockheads start spilling out. Flooding your cunt in mere seconds, you’re just dripping down your thighs in thick clumps of his seed.

And his cursed mouth is more than happy to indulge in all the miry ribbons of sap, lickin’ all upwards until a thin, ivory gloss coats its lips. Sukuna looks down and groans, “Oh fuck- oh fuck fuck fuck fuck-”

His flush was scorching, face scrunched in pleasure. You’re purring, “You’re so pretty, baby—”

“Ah, m’so glad I married ya.” He can’t stop the lil’ confession that leaves his mouth. Heart too full- your cunt too full. And if you saw one of the strongest, most vicious clan leaders in existence smile through a fiery blush n’ his pussydrunk tears, then you mercifully don’t comment.

“M’glad I married you too, Kuna—” 

And you’d felt nothing like this before. Having his gluey cum splosh around inside of you, both of his lengths were shoved in so deeply that they were constantly coating your cervix in white. Your womb.

Your deepest orifices that leak out as Sukuna plants a hand on your tummy and presses, watching with bated breath as his seed gushes out of you like a waterfall. “Fuck- didn’t think it would be like th-this, ngh.” He was hypnotized, making an even bigger mess of you. “Didn’t think that it would be s-so…” Addictive.

He doesn’t finish his sentence. For now.

Red eyes teary, Adam’s apple gulping. You’d completely sucked him dry by the time that Sukuna was pulling out of you. The matching mushroom tips of his shafts twitching, reddened and sensitive. 

He hisses as they bob in the air for a few seconds, before-

“Kuna- oh, fuck.”

Before you were flipped over and pressed deep into the mattress. Your legs on his shoulders, your knees near your tits—and his mouth over your overstimulated cunt. 

Letting you cream all down his chin, Sukuna has to swat away his cursed mouth just to get a taste of you himself. And the moment his plush lips touch your glazed folds- you’re trying to run away. Failing. 

“Now now, my wife.” Being draaaaagged back down by all four of his big, beefy arms. Sukuna pecks exactly six open-mouthed kisses on your sloppy hole, his lengthy pinkish tongue coming out to sluuurp—“I remember something about…six heirs?”

Oh. 

.

.

.

“Y’know, there’s really nothing wrong with impotency.”

Wasuke grunts, a few elders nod. “Agreed.”

“But maybe he’s taken a vow of celibacy-”

“Maybe his dicks fell off.”

“Choso Kamo!” It was never too early in the morning for Itadori Jin to squawk at his sons, especially when they were in the middle of what was undoubtedly an exceptionally important subject of conversation - the two of you. 

He wags his butter knife like a weapon, “We do not say those words in front of Yuji, and especially not in front of our toast.” Before reality sets in and he drags a hand down his face, “But yes…that is possible…”

Wasuke deems it to be the perfect time to chime in, “Bah! I don’t care if they fell off or if they multiplied- I just want grandkids.”

“Father, might I remind you that it was you who decided to interrupt their little moment last night?” A vein pops out beside Jin’s temple, and in his periphery can see the other guilty elders shift in their seats. 

The old man does, too, but still in denial. “Slander! That is propaganda that I will not be falling for-”

“Father, we have multiple eye witnesses. I am an eye witness.”

“And what were you doing spying with us?”

“…”

As Itadori Wasuke rests his case, the winding table falls into perhaps the first quiet of the morning. Somewhat tense. Somewhat anticipating. That is, until an oblivious Yuji nearly upturns his bowl of cereal to chime in—“Exorcist-”

“What? Choso, did you let him watch your-” Jin starts- and then stops. Because then he’s seeing exactly what his youngest son was looking at - you and Sukuna.

Well, more like you in Sukuna’s arms. It seemed that you were having some trouble waddling down the Estate’s multiple flights of stairs, painstakingly taking it one at a time to enter the dining room. And he has half the mind to nearly ask what’s wrong, perhaps even get up and help you himself- until he sees it.

Oh, it was hard to miss.

He sees it, and so does everyone else within a five mile radius: the bite marks, the bruises, the slight weariness in both your eyes from lack of sleep. It almost looked as if you two had been thrown to the wolves.

And his younger brother often did forgo a shirt for breakfast, but now he’d haphazardly thrown on a yukata. One that showed off such feral scratches disappearing down his back, his neck, fuck- maybe even his thighs?

Jin drops his butter knife, Choso exits the table, and Wasuke…was he even breathing? Hell, Jin was sure that a few of the surrounding elders had honest-to-heavens fainted right then and there.

Nearly everyone knew what happened.

Except for a beaming Itadori who was the first to gain your dual attentions, squealing out a “G’morning–!” that you both reciprocate in hushed, hoarse voices. Fuck, he even swears he heard Sukuna’s gruff baritone crack.

No one comments, of course, for the dark glint in their clan leader’s eyes promised sure death if they did. Though, Jin does roll his eyes at a few of the whispering council members—

“What a glorious, wonderful day it is. I truly do believe in miracles-”

“My bets are on a girl- but a boy would also be-”

“Akon worked?”

He doesn’t think he can judge, though. Not when he’s immediately pulling out his phone to text Yuji’s teacher, Haibara, about the salacious new updates. Ah, can you blame him? You two would make the prettiest lil’ babies. 

Finally, you and Sukuna finally take your seats at the clan table. Grinning. And by the looks on your faces, Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t impotent. Not at all. 

Though, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

The Itadori family sips their tea.

A/N. *Also sips tea* Hope you have a lovely week!

Plagiarism not authorized.

[tonycries]

JINX - T.F.

Synopsis. Toji Fushiguro: MMA light heavyweight champion, tyrant in the ring, the strongest man in the world. But after a sudden losing streak leaves him without his title, Toji realizes that he suffers from a certain…jinx. The cure: you, his new physical therapist - and what’s between those pretty legs of yours!

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!physical therapist!reader, MMA fighter!Toji, Jinx (the manhwa) AU, he’s mean, matches, slight vioIence (to his opponents), Shiu cameo, jinxes, pússydrunk Toji, oraI (fem rec.), face-sítting, fíngering, spítting, p sIapping, SO MUCH manhandling, HEADLOCKS, slight chokíng, rough s, cervíx kíssing, folding you, p talking, he’s rude, creampíes, cúmplay, tasting it, getting together, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 12.2k

A/N. PHEW-

“Ouch! Huge overhand right—Toji Fushiguro is on his last leg, ladies and gentlemen and everyone in-between. I repeat-”

Toji scowls as the commentator’s voice bellows in his ears, like lightning flashes of derision through the thunder of the crowd. Those bastards, he seethes, they sure were singing his praises last season…

He sways ever-so-slightly, and throws a punch- misses- then gets hit with an uppercut that he really should’ve dodged.

Should’ve.

“That is some damage- wow! A shocking turn of events for the once-champion, it seems like Toji is already down for the count tonight.” 

The hell are they talking about? He tries to glare down at the table of commentators (which would’ve been easier if said table wasn’t so…tilted).

Why was the world spinning? 

Before he knows it, Toji’s on the mat. He feels the referee rush to his side, slamming the ground in countdown. He feels the crowd roar as he’s announced his defeat, yet again. And in that moment, he knows.

It’s a jinx.

.

.

.

“—devastating loss for the man that once ruled the octagon.”

“The latest in his recent losing streak, fans are left wondering when their light heavyweight champion will make his comeback. And what changes have to be made in order to—”

“—almost as if he’s been jinxed, hah!”

You hasten to turn down the volume on your phone. Despite having your earphones connected, all those screams n’ cries n’ protests still melded together into a powerful whirlwind, blaring out from the cheap speakers.

Tinny. The disappointment of the vast audience on-screen was far too much for your device to contain.

And not wishing to draw any more dirty looks from the other passengers on your bus, you muted the video and paused it on a still of Toji Fushiguro.

It was right after his defeat in the preliminaries; his skin glistening in fervent sweat, a cut bleeding from his brow, face scrunched as he rejected the help of someone from his own team. Instead, choosing to get up by himself.

Still silenced, you let the video play on a little longer - and you take in the glump slump of his shoulders. Oh-so-toned. You take in the way he stalks grimly off of the octagon-shaped battleground that the MMA was most famous for.

From here, you could tell that Toji towered above all of the crew- hell, he even towered above his opponent.

So why did he lose?

Alright, so you weren’t an expert in all things mixed-martial arts - but as a physical therapist you think you had some sort of say in the matter!

From here, you determine that this should’ve been an easy win for him. Terribly easy. Practically handed to him: for Toji was built considerably larger, stronger, about 6’3 with a ripped physique that made you understand exactly why the fighter had graced every single sports magazine in existence last season. Every TV show. Every sports exclusive. He’d taken the fighting world by storm at his debut, and he’d held that title ever since.

Infamous.

A wonder to watch on the screen.

A deep v-line. Arms the size of your head.

Those sage, half-lidded eyes of his were intense - especially now, as they blazed with injustice. You could remember feeling them follow your every move, prowling, from the athletics section on every magazine aisle. You think you’d picked up those exact magazines a few times, just to make sure that they weren’t somehow actually following you.

One time, you even remember the shop employee nodding approvingly at your choice.

Everyone knew Toji Fushiguro.

If not from his legendary MMA reputation, then from his irresistible looks. If not from his irresistible looks, then from his reputation as a tyrant in the ring.

If from neither then from his recent streak of losses that shook the fighting world.

It’d come out of nowhere. And no athlete quite expects to lose, but this seemed to have come as a surprise especially to Toji and his team, crew to an athlete that should’ve been at the top of his game.

You ponder - perhaps it was some wear on the joints, or maybe he hasn’t been getting enough electrolytes this season…

You’re pulled out of your little reverie by a cough from the kind ol’ lady seated beside you; the type that was less a necessity of the body, and more a pointed intonation of ‘I don’t know what you’re doing and it seems like neither do you’.

And, suddenly, you realize that you hadn’t just been staring into space as you’d thought- no, you’d been staring (quite passionately) at a paused frame of Toji Fushiguro in all his shirtless, sweaty glory. A close-up of his built figure. A close-up of the tattoo on the side of his toned hip.

Which, you had to admit was quite…attractive- pull yourself together! You turn off the phone that you’d pulled out in the first place for research, lest anyone else on the bus start thinking that you were some kind of pervert (it might already be too late for that, the elderly woman was tittering to herself). Ducking your head in shame, you sigh out in relief as you notice that your stop is near.

“The next stop is Sendagaya Station, Shibuya.” The lilting voice of the conductor rings out, “Please prepare your fares.”

You were glad to finally get off this bus, after a long ride spent toiling to yourself. In no time, you’d paid your fare and was stepping out into the bustling city.

Conveniently, right in front of the gymnasium you were supposed to arrive at: TEAM BLACK, TOKYO MMA GYM. 5F. 

To work for Toji Fushiguro.

You check your watch—five minutes early. Dressed in your crisp scrubs, you adjust the glinting golden badge engraved with your name and your position as physical therapist. 

And then you step in.

The sound of gloves connecting with flesh, of groaning punching bags, and shouts greet you immediately as you enter. There were a multitude of fights that were ongoing in the expansive gym, but there was only one that you couldn’t take your eyes off of - right in the middle, pummeling his bloodied opponent, was Toji Fushiguro.

From around the ring, teammates and coaches were yelling at the dark-haired man to stop. But he doesn’t.

His stone-cold face specks with blood, and he still doesn’t stop. His opponent taps at the mat to halt the match, and he still doesn’t stop. One of the other fighters in the gym runs up to grab him, and he still doesn’t stop.

Ultimately, you watch as it takes about five men to even match Toji’s strength- forget about overpowering.

“What’s wrong with you?!” One of the men cried out, “‘Free sparring’ doesn’t mean you should actually take the guy apart- someone could have gotten injured!”

“You okay? You seemed lost there, man…”

“Is this about the loss from a few weeks ago- eek!” Several of them stumble backwards as Toji glares at them for that particular comment, and suddenly you’re reminded of the match you’d just watched on the way here. That devastating loss.

You look over and can’t help but notice that the man inside the ring right now is much bigger than the one he’d fought during that match. Much stronger, it seems.

And again, you’re wondering - why the hell couldn’t he win?

“The punk wanted to spar, s’not my fuckin’ problem he couldn’t handle it.” Toji grunts, and it’s the first time you’re hearing his low baritone. Slightly husky.

He rolls his eyes as he shoves off the other fighters, and pulls aside the colored ropes ring to step out. Which is when, slowly, magnetically, his eyes meet yours.

“Who’s this?”

Toji’s in front of you in a split-second, his broad shape looming. His twinkling irises staring down. His black t-shirt skin-tight. His scarred lips slightly quirking upwards—

And before you can even think of responding, you hear a call of your name.

From the other side of the gym, a clean-cut man with a slight spattering of scruff was pacing his way over. He was well-built, like the other fighters here, though with an air of authority with which he wielded a clipboard.

In front of you, Toji repeats your name. Like he was tasting it.

“Ah, you must be the new physical therapist!” The man announces once he’s close enough, and you bow politely to which he does the same. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. The name’s Shiu Kong, m’the manager of these animals- so if there’s anything you need to ask, you ask me.”

“Thank you for having me, and for the opportunity.” You smile, seeing Toji’s stunned expression from the edge of your peripheral vision.

He scoffs, “And what do we need a physical therapist for?”

Shiu instantly smacks him with his clipboard, “Have you had one too many blows to the head?” He barks out, in a tone that was the complete opposite of the gentle way he’d spoken to you. “Huh? Have you? Have you forgotten the fact that you’ve done more losing than winning this season-”

“Alright alright-” Toji waves off, “The fuck? They should put you in the ring next.”

And then he turns to you and sweeps his eyes up and down. Deciding to take a chance, you thrust your hand out in the attempt of a handshake- only for him to take it in his much-larger, roughened one. And instead he flips your palm over and bends- almost like he’s bowing, almost like you’re royalty - and grins. “Pleasure.”

He doesn’t introduce himself, he knows he doesn’t have to.

And with only a slight smirk thrown your way, Toji turns on his heel and heads in the direction of one of the clinical-looking rooms in the gymnasium. Away from all the fighting, you assumed that this will be your office going forward.

Toji’s already there when you enter, and he’s-

…shirtless?

His broad back was all on display for you, every curve n’ divot, every one of his eight washboard abs, every flex of his muscles. He was glimmering with a sheen of sweat that brought out just how toned he was- and you think you could see, closer than ever, the inky spirals of a snake on his hip.

“My clothes are soaked in sweat-” Toji turns to look at you, and you feel your heart race at being caught staring. “I can do this in my boxers, right?”

“Ah, yes!” You try to keep your tone even, and help your client - your client - lay down on the examination table. But oh- he really was attractive. Painfully so.

Not even those smokin’ hot magazines and edits on social media (all part of your…research, of course) had done him justice.

But you had a job to do, and you’re getting started right away. “Do you have any specific concerns?” You ask, pulling a thin towel over Toji’s crotch area as he reclines. And he only sighs and rests his head upon his palms, muscles rippling as he does so.

“Just do your thing.”

“Yes, sir.” You nod, “Then, I’ll give you the full body sports oil massage.”

“Mn.”

You start from his broad shoulders, and then down to his pecs.

And he really wasn’t like any of the clients you’d had prior - no one came even close. You could feel the power in his body, the firmness, the training. Any time you glissade your lotionized hands across Toji’s muscles, he grunts- and, oh, you have to squeeze your thighs together to stop from thinking anything stupid.

You kneaded your way down from his bulging biceps, and onto the side of his hips - where you got a really good look at the snake tattoo. You notice that it also had flowers inked around it.

And then onto his thighs…you’re raising them in external rotations. All the while looking up at his ridiculously handsome face to check whether it hurt, you didn’t register the way your hands somewhat struggled to get a proper grasp on his meaty thighs, especially with the sweat.

You didn’t register the way your fingertips slightly scoured downwards-

“Oh, shit!” You hiss, jumping your hand back. In the few seconds that you’d been distracted by his looks, you’d somehow traced the crown head of something long…and hard.

Looking down, you realize that Toji’s erection was throbbing against the thin layer of his boxers. Barely even hidden by the cover of the towel, the lengthy cylindrical outline was there for your eyes to see - and for your hand to accidentally touch.

Your eyes widen.

How was he so big?

“My- my apologies, sir!” You sputter out, resting your treasonous hands against your sides. “It’s a very common physiological response to get hard- ah- an erection during a massage, and it’s completely my mistake for not noticing. Again, my apologies, I completely understand if you wish to-”

“Whaddaya doing just standing there?” Toji cuts you off gruffly, and you look up at his face in surprise. He raises a dark brow, “Aren’t you gonna finish what you started?”

You blink, “Finish what I…”

“The massage.” He cocks his head, though there’s a knowing smile on his lips - how devilish he looked this way. “That damn Shiu’s gonna give me hell if I don’t get it- so hurry it up, will ya?”

That was close. Hastily nodding, you reach over to massage his thigh once more. “Right at once, sir.”

Looking down, you chose not to make eye-contact with him for the rest of the session. Instead, focusing your entire attention on perfectly executing the massage, step by step - you wouldn’t want a repeat of what happened before!

Toji, however, stared at you through his partially-lidded eyes the entire time.

.

.

.

“That wraps up your treatment for today. Thank you for your patience, Mr. Fushiguro.” You step to the side, giving the athlete the space to stretch out his long limbs and feel the effects of your massage- which, you had to admit yourself, was amongst some of the best in the academy.

He takes his time rolling his shoulders, feeling the way the blood vessels on his muscles flow smoothly. Energized.

“Hm, not bad.” Toji muses, more to himself. “Most of the punks here call me ‘sir’ or ‘Mr. Fushiguro’-” He nods at you, “You can just call me Toji.”

“Oh- I’m honored, sir- I mean-” Your veins blister with heat, and you think that the slight quirk of his lips might have something to do with it. “—Toji.” It felt so wrong on your tongue, and yet so right.

And before you can let anything further slip (because, really, you’d never been close enough to a client to address them by their first name, let alone be told to do so after the very first session), you turn away from the handsome man to grab your bag of supplies, your coat, and step to fumble with the door handle. “And now- if that’s all, then I’ll be going now. Have a nice day, sir- I mean-”

As you make your very evident escape, Toji can only watch. Can only stare.

He feels his massive erection still throb furiously between his legs, still ravenous. Like never before. And one of his hands snakes down to squeeze—“How…interesting.”

Before the door swings open once more and in comes Shiu, prattling away something about how you ‘left in such a hurry’ and what a ‘sweet lil’ thing’ you were- Toji casually throws a second hand towel over his lap as his best friend (and manager) comes to slap him on the shoulder. “Feeling refreshed, eh? I can see it in your eyes- with her, we might just have hope about winning that next match.”

“Yeah.” He rasps out, throat dry. Toji watches where you left, he can still feel your soft hands tingling on his skin. “Yeah, we might just.”

.

.

.

“Fuck-” The champion spits between his clenched canines- well, future champion. But it didn’t hurt to be a lil’ optimistic, did it? “Oh, fuck- I’ve never been fuckin’ harder.”

He didn’t fucking care. Not right now, not when he had his strong hand rested against the glistening tile of the stall. His head bent forwards, his back wet with the pouring shower, his right hand slipped below his v-line and furiously pumping his cock.

Up and down. Up and down.

Fuck, he was jerking himself off like he never had before. Until the friction of his roughened palm left his long, hot length all red n’ raw- and yet, he still wasn’t stopping. Still couldn’t. 

He remembers the feeling of your soft hands on his thighs and Toji bucks-

“F-fuck-” The fighter gnaws down on his scarred bottom lip, trying desperately not to make a sound that will echo out in the gym’s empty locker room. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck- s’not supposed to feel this good.” Sure, they had stalls - but right now even the slightest flick of his thumb, right underneath his mushroomy tip, felt so good that he might as well moan out loud.

And the worst part was that he’s sure his very first moan would be your name.

“Fuck, mama, s’not supposed to feel this good.” He snarls, entire body wracking with shivers. The bulging biceps on his arms ripple as he glides his hand down to his base. And all the way back up.

Abs tensing. Veins on his pelvis popping.

With a few more vulgar strokes, he’s hoverin’ his thumb right over the divot on the middle of his cockhead. It was all pink n’ needy, dribbling out in syrupy white cum in absolutely no time- “Look what you’ve done to me.” Toji watches himself through his shaggy black bangs, wet with water and perspiration, cumming all over his hands. “I don’t know what blessing- what c-curse you’ve put on me, but…” Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

He rides out his high on his right hand, fucking his fist like he imagines you might tease him through it- just like the way you’d teasingly grazed his tip. Just grazed.

You’d probably take it like such a good girl. Let him paint his gluey white cum all over your face, and just across your lips - it would probably match your scrubs, heh. Biting back a groan, those lecherous thoughts of his only make him finish even faster.

And once the sparks of his high have finally bated - the fountain of his ivory sap stopping - Toji washes off the remnants of his lewd act. Spurting out some cool body wash and cleaning himself off, he slicks back his hair with clean hands now.

Head throwing back, he knew he had to get his mind in focus for the upcoming match - just in a few hours, actually. The car was supposed to be waiting for him outside the gym by now. It was some sort of rebound match of Legends vs. Rookies that Shiu had managed to scrounge together, and it should be displeased at the fact that he was supposed to fight some no-good, hotshot punk- but, honestly he had a good feeling about this one.

Toji’s thoughts stray back to you, and he finds himself cracking a snicker- “You’ve fuckin’ cursed me, woman. You plague me. But…” A thrill zaps through his strong body, “…I like it.”

.

.

.

Toji Fushiguro won the Legends vs. Rookies event. 

A wipe-out so clean that everyone was sure it’d go down in history. A comeback so strong that it had already gone down in history.

After that, it was a streak of absolute demolition: the preliminaries, the co-main events, the PPV matches, each and every single fight that was thrown his way- Toji Fushiguro was sure to win without even breaking a sweat (metaphorically).

Hell, at one point even some of his past contenders from his losing streak had demanded rematches, perhaps thinking that they could put the legend in his place once more.

He’d won those, too.

After a season-long losing streak, it was months of winning. And you were giving him his massages on the days before every match. 

And Toji was back on the magazine covers, the interviews, the brand deals. Right now you couldn’t even step outside your humble apartment building without being met with at least four different billboards and several commercials featuring him. It was quite strange - seeing the rugged persona in those mediums, and then his still-rugged demeanour in real life.

Though, slightly less so.

There was a faint gentleness to the way that Toji was (when you’d brought this up with some of the other fighters you’d grown close to, they’d fervently denied and showed off their bruises from the pummelings that Toji gave them in the ring). 

But you were sure it was there: in the way that he’d always be first in the office, in the way he’d lightly murmur greetings to you and only you, in the way he’d hold open doors and look away as if he wasn’t, in the way that there was a drink of your favorite preference on your desk every morning. And you’d asked around, wondering if it was perhaps Shiu or any of the rookies that was doing so- but they all denied it.

All but one of them.

Toji.

Even Shiu seemed to have noticed that something had shifted in his best fighter. Hell, he was on a winning streak after so long, so of course there had to have been a change.

The other man couldn’t quite pinpoint it, though he gave most of the credit to you and your massages. ‘They must be some sort of magic work!’ He’d exclaimed to you one day, after a particularly tough opponent that Toji had easily beat.

And you yourself couldn’t quite be sure, though you didn’t want to give yourself all the credit. You were only glad that your favorite fighter (yes, after being around MMA fighters for long enough now, you’d determined that Toji was your favorite) was back to winning again.

Only glad you could help.

Which is why, in the ghost entrails of the early morning, at exactly 2:36AM, when Toji texted you - you answered.

2:36AM - Toji (MMA fighter): I need you. 

2:38AM - Toji (MMA fighter): For another one of those full body massages.

2:42AM - Toji (MMA fighter): Please.

2:42AM - You: On my way!

As you jumped out of your bed to get dressed, you noticed that you had several missed calls from Shiu, as well. After calling him right back, he informed you that just last week, Toji had come up on a draw during his last match, which was yet another co-main event for the #1 Contender spot. 

Of course, you knew of this, you’d watched the match on the gymnasium television. And though it wasn’t the worst of outcomes (especially considering that this was world-class fighting, at a light heavyweight level), considering his winning streak, you were somewhat surprised. And slightly afraid that he’d go back into his rut of losing, just as Shiu was.

Which was why he, too, wanted to reach out to inquire whether you could do one of your ‘magical’ full-body massages on Toji on the night before one of his biggest matches yet. A rematch for the #1 Contender spot - the audiences loved him.

Shiu told you he’d seen Toji moping around after that devastating draw, and knew that the only one who just might have the ability to brighten his mood would be you. So please, if you could go at 2:45AM to the penthouse apartment of a celebrity MMA fighter to give him a massage?

Of course, you said yes.

It seems that Toji’s team had arranged for everything already, and a flashy black car was already waiting outside your apartment building to whisk you off to your destination. You twiddled your thumbs, slightly nervous (for what? You weren’t quite sure) as the car parked in front of a set of gleaming skyscrapers. Apartment buildings of a calibre that you’d only seen in architectural magazines.

Escorted upwards by a few of Toji’s own personal bodyguards past an entrance larger than your entire apartment, and a lobby that practically screamed luxury. 

You didn’t even know that Tokyo had such a place. 

Massive. Concierges that bowed as soon as they saw you. An orchestra that still played in the dead of night. Chandeliers like miniature suns that lined the ceiling.

Damn, maybe you should’ve become a famous fighter, you whistled. It made sense, though, he is one of the highest-paid athletes in the country. Even the elevators were gilded, shining so brightly that you could make out every inch of your face on its reflection. And the bodyguard’s, too- you quickly straightened up and tried to look as casual as possible as he led you to the very top floor.

A large glowing button simply labelled with a ‘P’.

The penthouse floor had a wide carpeted corridor leading up to it, all golds and reds like the rest of the apartment. You walked up to the expensive-looking door at the end of it, and buzzed the doorbell on its touchpad.

Bzzzz—!

The door swings open.

And there stands Toji Fushiguro, in all his sweaty, shirtless glory.

It almost reminded you of the first time you gave him a massage. Chest heaving. Vision bleary. A glittering bead of sweat lines the curve of his jawline, ending at his chin and dripping downwards. Down, down, down the valley of his pecs.

There was a lewd little flush that overtook his tannish skin.

Like he was…sex-flushed.

Spreading out across his tense shoulders, and all the way down his chest. The back of his neck. You don’t think it even ends as it follows the line of his dark happy trail, those curly lil’ hairs at the bottom of his navel, and then even further down—

Toji’s grey sweatpants hung low on his hips.

Dangerously low.

And you have to force yourself to look away. You swallow as he raises one big, beefy arm and rests it on the top of the door frame. Looking at you through the gaps in his damp bangs, “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, mama.”

“O-oh.” You immediately close your mouth, realizing that you’d been gawking at him for far too long now (how unprofessional!) Sheepishly, you raise your bag of supplies and shake it ever-so-slightly. “I uh- got your text! And Shiu also called to tell me that you wanted an extra round of physical therapy before your match, sir-”

“Toji.”

“Toji-” You amend. Before taking on a stern tone, “And it looks to me like you’d already been up working out before your match. Overstressing your joints will wear them out, you know!”

He scratches the back of his head, a sleazy smile overtaking his face. “Working out- right.”

Tutting, “What you need now is a nice massage and some relaxation. I’ll do your usual with some added therapy for your blood pressure, how about that?”

“Perfect.” Toji grins, and he cracks the doorway open. Just slightly open. So that you have to squeeze yourself between the doorway and his chiselled body - not that you were complaining. “Come on in and give me a- hah, real workout then, how about it?”

“Relaxation, Toji.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

Ignoring his teasing, you step inside. It’s a luxurious apartment - one of those stylishly modern types, black and white, with flares of Toji’s MMA career. Boxing gloves on the sprawling couch. A TV that takes up an entire wall, paused on highlights from his last match. A cabinet overspilling with trophies and belts.

Led by him, you stumble past towering artworks that likely cost about five of these penthouses - and that’s about ten thousand of your own apartment.

He walks you through winding hallways, and ultimately into what you guess is the master bedroom.

His bedroom.

The first thing you notice as you step in isn’t the rich furniture, or the king-sized bed, or the draping curtains that were cracked ever-so-slightly to let a sliver of the city seep through. No- it’s the mountain of tissues scattered on the wine-red carpet, the bottle of lotion on his bedside table, the way the dark bedsheets looked like he’d just been thrashing on it.

Toji casually lays back down on his wrinkled bed, and rests his clammy head on two hands. Stretching out. 

You hasten to set out your work, coating your palms in lotion, and beginning your massage. As you start off warming up his obliques, you can’t help but blurt out- “M-my apologies for assuming it was a workout-”

Fuck.

Why would you say that?

You gasp, “I mean-”

“Why?” Toji croons, tilting his head to look at you. Trying to avoid his gaze, you quickly shift to extending his legs instead. “It was a workout, heh.”

Your veins bubble, “Oh…”

“And it’s a workout I need before every match, y’know?” Looking at you closely, still, you’re too aware of the fact that you’re massaging his thigh. “The fact that m’fuckin’ my fist like some lecher before every match, you don’t think that’s strange?”

“I see. I don’t really…” Your throat is drier than the Sahara, you have no idea what to say - though, you admit, a part of you wants to hear more. So that’s what he’d been doing, in this very room, on this very bed, just before you’d arrived.

Another part of you is thrilled. Another part of you is confused why you’re thrilled- which quickly morphs into understanding once your brain conjures up a sizzling image of Toji Fushiguro alone with his sweatpants at his ankles, hands fisting his rock-hard cock. 

Shaking your head free of those lecherous visions, you attempt to lighten the mood- “Is that why you’ve been winning all these matches lately, hah?”

“Exactly.” And Toji sounded dead-fucking-serious. Rising, he looks you squarely in the eyes with his slightly murky ones. “See, the thing is, I have this jinx.”

Your eyes widen.

“That’s why I was on a losing streak- no matter what happens, it turns out I needa have a real good high the night before a match.” Your hands have stopped their movements, yet he shifts to edge them up higher. Closer. “N’ it needs to be truly satisfying for me to win.”

“So- so these past few matches?”

“Mhm, you’re a smart one, mama.” He shifts on the bed, sitting up. Even closer. “You could say it’s my routine, and it’s very important to me.” His verdant gaze shifts from your right eye, to your left, to your lips. A triangle. “And…I’d found my fix. Just fucking my fist to the thought of her was enough- but lately…lately, I dunno if that’s all I want.”

Your breath catches—he was talking about…“I see- th-that must be quite challenging.”

“Heh, it looks like you still don’t get it.”

Before you know it, his hand grasps yours. And he’s bringing it up- to press an innocent peck on the back of your hand, though the burning look in his eyes was anything but.

Scarred lips murmuring against your skin, “Why’d ya think that on the crucial night before a match, I’d go through all the trouble of calling my manager, informing security, and having you come over?” He chuckles, “And if you still don’t get it-”

And that sweet, sweet kiss he was pressing to your hand?

Well, Toji’s canines slip outwards to lightly bite down - just teasingly. He looks at you through his long, Stygian lashes. “I know the way you look at me, ya aren’t slick- hah! If you want - only if you want - you should know.” Sighing out. A confession. “It’s always been you, doll. Always.”

So he really was talking about you earlier.

Your heart stutters, and the only thing you can think to do - let your hand slip up, just the way it had on the first day you’d given him a massage.

And sure as day, there it was, the massive fucking erection that raged beneath his sweatpants. Just as large - if not even larger - than how you’d remembered him. 

Just as needy - if not needier.

You gulp, “Well, I am your physical therapist intended to help you…” You stare at him dead-on in the eyes: they were drunk with lust. Looking as if he was on the very urge of shattering if you just say the word. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think of him in that way, either. “-win.”

.

.

.

“Oh fuck, you taste so good, mama. Just a lil’ wider now—just a little wider.” At Toji’s throaty beckons, you’re stretchin’ your thighs further apart with a whimper. 

Feeling the scorchin’ hot gust of his breath against your core, you arch your back with a yelp once you feel him swat his calloused fingertips against your folds.

Teasingly, he runs his fat thumb right past your pussylips- snagging down on your clit to make you even wetter above him. “Wiiider now- lemme see her properly, mama.” He huffs out, demanding. “No need to be shy with me.” 

“M’already stretching.” You’re rebutting, grabbing onto a few tufts of his raven bangs to balance yourself. You knew you didn’t need to be gentle with him- in fact, Toji groans at the feeling of you pulling on his hair, using it as leverage. 

After all, he’d been the one to insist on making out with your cunt this way: your thighs straddling either side of his face, your cunt hovering above his mouth.

A beaded droplet of slick dribbles into his mouth and he has his tongue out n’ ready to catch it. Pryin’ your swollen folds even further apart with his thumb,  “Atta girl-” As you leak out at his words- “Atta girl, s’exactly how wet I want you.”

“Hmpf- and you haven’t even kissed me yet.” You point out, stubbornly.

To which Toji only grins - oh, how cute you were. “You wan’ me to kiss you? There-” And before you know it, you’re feeling something cold and wet cling onto your pussy. Only later are you realizing that he’d just spat on your cunt, letting the lewd slurp-slurp-sluuuurp ring out for both your ears to hear. “Those lips happy now, or do you want tongue?”

“You’re just so mean- ngh-”

Another probing press of his crowned thumb, once more rolling over your clit perfectly. “Oh, so you do want tongue.”

And Toji says it so casually, as if he’d just stumbled across an epiphany. As if he normally did communicate through the squelching slurps your pussy was giving out-

Because then he’s delving his tongue into you like an animal.

Barely even prepping you, barely even warning you- not before the scourin’ tip of his tongue then enters past your folds. Striking directly against some tender inner part of your walls, before he’s darting it back out and fucking you with his long muscle.

Rutting.

Again and again and again.

You feel your thighs shiver hopelessly at the sheer length of Toji’s tongue - so fucking long that you could feel his ridged tastebuds aim for your very cervix. As if he could reach. “O-oh my god. How are you so big, Toji?”

“Mmm, and I haven’t even put my cock in yet, doll.” He smiles priggishly, his tongue slurping up every wadded ounce of slick that leaves you. “How are you gonna take that then, huh?”

“I don’t know- ngh.” He’s mazing another inch of his tongue in, thoroughly. And it’s enough to leave your body all loose n’ wobbly with pleasure- stupidly, you attempt to hold onto the towering headboard on his bed, but Toji can’t have that, now, can he?

Not when he was the one pounding your pretty pussy with all his tastebuds.

Glued to the slick-filled orifices of your cunt, he’s unhooking your hands from the headboard and bringing it back down to hold onto his scalp. To pull. To rough him up a little. “Don’t even think about it-” He can’t even speak through the rough, open-mouthed kisses he was leaving on your puckered hole. Wetly. Gasping for air- for more tastes of your candied cunt. “In fact…”

Your hips flinch ever-so-slightly once Toji raises his head up - which, with his powerful body, was absolutely nothing even with your weight on top of him. And through his long bangs he takes a gooood, long look at you.

At your cunt.

At the way you were still hovering your hips, and then he’s spanking his familiar hand down on the tip-top of your clit. Making you gasp- “Did you just-”

“Whoops.” Faux-innocently, Toji acts all nice then - pinpointing the top of his tongue into each of those tender spots you loved so much. He unhinges his jaw even further to make sure that he isn’t leaving a single spot unkissed. Long and hard. 

Smack!

And again, you’re finding the most tender outer part of your pussy slapped. “Aww, not again.” Toji has the audacity to pout on your behalf. Meanly, his free hand slides over to grip your ass and pull you down. “Anyways…why don’tcha properly fuckin’ sit, mama. Maybe then my hands will stop- heh, slipping.”

And as if to prove his point, his prolonged tongue skids all the way from your glossy hole to your clit. “I mean…”

“Like- fuck!” Still urging you to sit properly with his hands, on the verge of manhandling you. “Who the fuck do ya think you are, honey?”

You shyly try to listen to what he says, grindin’ your treacly cunt all over his open mouth. And oh- oh, it was like heaven for him. He has his greedy maw unfastened and his tongue slurping all over, stickin’ into every orifice even deeper than he had before. “I worry- hngh! I just worry that I might-” But he still wanted more. Still had his neck craning up n’ down to take in everything you gave him. “-suffocate you if you go on like this.”

And it was a realistic concern- fuck, you were hovering your waist right now and still Toji wasn’t stopping to take a breath. Wasn’t even slowing down.

He’s burying himself nose-deep between your pussylips and letting his mouth do more stirrin’ than talking. And it’s only after a few more vulgar fucking strokes of his tongue, a few more swabs inside your pussy that he can even wrench himself away to answer you. “Ohhhh, I get it.” Tugging on your trembling thighs, “You think I can’t handle it, huh?”

“I didn’t say- oh, fuck-”

Without hesitation, Toji plants a rude slap on your pussy once more. Letting those glittering beads of slick splatter all over, “You think m’fucking weak?” He seethes, half-joking. But half-wanting. “Let me get one thing fuckin’ clear, doll.”

And you’re listening intently - because if he sensed you were becoming too far one on the way his tongue lavishly licks, then Toji would once again swat your cunt. Drawing your attention once more.

The fighter stares deeply into your hazed peripherals as he lets his lengthy tongue flop out. Slitherin’ that honed tip right in- “No matter what you weigh, I can bench press more than five of you.” And he gives your pussylips yet another sinful spank! “Now- fucking- sit.”

You’re being seated with an unceremoniously loud sluuuuurp.

Of his tongue stickin’ deep inside you, his upper lip practically glued to your clit. With you riding his face, Toji fills out every tiny geysering nook and cranny. Grazing every velvety bundle of nerves that makes you see stars.

“Oh- please-” He was just ruthless. As if you didn’t know whether to fuck back or run forwards, you’re jolting your hips sloppily up and down. Slick, needy drags to match his lapping tongue.

Again and again.

Slurp after squelch.

Before you know it, Toji wants more - needs more. Even having you on top of him like this, his mouth was ravenous. Licking. Leaning up from the pillows to let you ride his face; all the way from the curve of his chin n’ up to the tip of his straight nosebridge. 

As you come back down from one of these particular gyrations, Toji holds you still and - before you know it - you’re feeling the sensation of something elongated and thick entering your cunt.

“Sh-shit, that’s not your tongue…” You blink away the tears in your eyes and look downwards, where the protruding edges of his joints were stretching you intensely.

Two of them- even though it felt like four, with how big his fingers were.

As you wail n’ wobble on top of him, Toji crushes you to his mouth ferociously. And you marvel at the stretch that keeps you hostage - you can’t do anything but take it. But let your mouth fall ajar, and your head throw back, at the feeling of his probing thrusts.

Sultry tastebuds flickering over your clit- “Mmm, s’not my tongue- good catch, doll.” He snickers, “Thought that such a goooood pussy deserved a little something m-more-”

You catch the way that his dark brows furrow, a slight flush tinting what little you could see of his ears. “Wait- Toji, did you just stutter-”

“No the fuck I didn’t-” He’s snapping back. 

And in response, you’re having your gummy walls pummeled with some of the rudest jackhammers you’ve ever felt in your entire life. Oh, he’s just swabbing his fingerpads in so deep, mouth pursing to spit against your entrance once more n’ lick it all up. 

Letting himself salivate. 

Toji drools down a waterfall of your slick, his fingers tuggin’ apart your tight hole to squeeze-squeeze-squeeze in a third finger. “Don’t make me lose focus now.” Grumbling from underneath you, the fighter pins you down with a big, beefy arm wrapped ‘round your waist. Tight. You’re in awe of his sheer inhuman strength. “Don’tcha remember? I’ve gotta- ngh- win tomorrow, n’ this pretty pussy is the key to it, mama. So let me focus alllll my attention on h-her…”

You gasp, “So you did stutter-” And soon enough, you feel yourself growing even wetter at the implication that the strong, cocky Toji Fushiguro was so pussydrunk right now that he was slurring his words.

Gone on your cunt. The way you clenched ‘round his rovering fingers- oh. 

And, of course, Toji wasn’t complaining about the fact that you were soaking yourself even more. Only gaping his maw further open, “Mmm, tch-” His fingers pull out with a squelch to spank the front of your core, “-these lips are much nicer t’me.”

“Hey—” You huff, “Just because I got you all ngh- pussydrunk doesn’t mean- oh fuck!”

“What were you saying—?” And then he’d bullied in four fingers - four. Four entire, long digits- he ends off by hitting his mountainous knuckles against your folds with a smack! Smack after smack. Until the skin on his hands were rubbed all raw, Toji probes his fingers inside your cunt. “Oh yes, I think someone was talkin’ all big w’me. Do you know who that, mmm, might be?”

You shake on top of him, his cushy fingertips were glissading oh-so-close to your g-spot. With every rapid thrust, they inched in—“I-I don’t-”

“I see.” And then he’s rolling his tongue ruthlessly against your clit with a few wettened noises. “Do you know then?”

“What do you-”

“Shhh, not you.” Toji rolls his half-lidded eyes. And his vibratin’ words zap through your entire body - he always did make sure to lean in reeeeal close whenever he spoke, but right now, he was tracing his canines over your swollen clit and lightly gnawing. “M’talking to her- aren’t I?”

“F-fuuuck–!” Just then, he’s striking your g-spot. Thunderously. Just then, he’s realizing he did- and repeating the motion in quick, frenzied half-thrusts.

Barely even pulling properly to tease your elastic hole, barely even letting you register the way he bashes your bundle of nerves before he repeats the act. Toji was just vicious with how he batters in your poor cunt, “Yeah? Yeah yeah yeah- ya like that?” He spits, “Who’s stuttering now, mama? Got anythin’ else to say?”

You whimper, “Mm-mm-”

“Mhm, I knew she was chattier anyway.”

Talking to your pussy, Toji nods along like he’s part of the conversation. All those pretty, pretty sounds that he almost wishes he could record and listen to on loop.

So it was only a matter of time before he’s feeling the way your clampin’ walls reach a feverpitch, the way your damp noises only seem to get damper. 

And the fighter looks up at you with a glint of excitement in his partially-lidded eyes, “Oh, she’s close, doll.”

“How did you-” Your breath catches- fuck, he’s only accelerating his thorough pushes. The only thing you could register at this point was the perfect way he knew how to work your pussy, all those deepest, most fragile spots.

Quickly enough, those twinges of pleasure at the pit of your stomach are turning into waves. 

And you can feel your thighs tremor on top of him, struggling to support your body when your orgasm quakes. “Toji, m’close-” You tug on his sweaty hair, “I think m’gonna c-cum soon.”

“So cum on my face, then?” He answers, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Determined, you don’t even need to hold up your own self anymore - he’s doing so with one hand glued to the side of your hips, the other pressing and probin’ until you’re being fucked by both his mouth n’ his fingers- straight into your high.

Crash-landing into your orgasm, it takes you entirely by surprise.

You jerk your cunt against his mouth, and Toji groans with delight. Back arching. Toes curling. You close your eyes and see entirely white as the surge of euphoria takes over your body.

“Oh my- ngh, fuck. M’cumming, m’cumming m’cumming and it feels so good-” He’s just digging his veiny fingers against every sensitive ridge on your walls, just the way you liked. “Right there, keep going just like that, Toji.”

And usually this would be the point where he says something to tease you. The point where he says something to make you whine n’ try to shut him up with your bloated pussylips.

But he was fucking you so thoroughly through your high that he doesn’t even have the time for that anymore, doesn’t have the patience.

With his scarred lips smoochin’ away at your clit, Toji lets his plump fingertips hit your g-spot. Constantly. With those keen senses of his (honestly you blame the reflexes from MMA), he pinpoints the exact tempo of your high.

Every peak- he bashes in with a swat! at your bundle of nerves. Letting his mouth salivate all down your runny slit, drinking up every sip of your sweet, sweet juices. Like honey. “And you called me p-pussydrunk, heh.” Toji titters away, noticing the glazed look in your eyes. “As if you’re not the one gone on my tongue, doll. As if you’re not the one salivating all like that. As if you’re not the one with the pussy that’s fuckin’ ruined me- fuck.”

Both of you register what he’s said at the same time.

Toji with a sudden gasp, and you with a smug smirk. The strongest of your high has bated by now to nothing more than a few tingles, and you have half the mind to look down at him and ask. “So…ruined you, huh?”

“Sh-shut up.”

That pussydrunkness - oh, Toji Fushiguro was fighting against it. Trying not to cave in. But alas, he couldn’t be in denial any longer after your orgasm has ended, and you’re trying to pull off of his mouth- only for Toji to hold onto your thighs and chase after your cunt.

You whimper from overstimulation as he licks at your teary crevice a few more times, before you the pleasure is too much and you really have to push his sweaty crown away.

“Toji- ngh, m’sensitive.” You squeal, to which he grunts in nonchalance. Still addicted to tastin’ you. Realizing this, you finally huff, “If you let me go now, then maybe I wanna take a shot at- hah, paying you back…”

And that finally makes him pull off. With a raised brow, “Cheh, go easy on yerself- you can’t take me that easily.”

“Oh? Scared?”

“You wish.” 

In fact, there was a hint of challenge in Toji’s dazed eyes. In no time, you’re plopped off of his mouth with the most lecherous noise. Seated on the edge of the bed, he got off and tugged down on the flimsy fabric of his sweatpants.

Resting his fist on the dark curls at his base, you’re being introduced to Toji’s proud length.

Tanned. Rock-hard. 

Even larger than you’d imagined from all his…accidental erections during your sessions. Long. And he wasn’t lacking in the girth department, either - the plumpest tip, all covered in a layer of creamy pre. It dripped down the nozzle of his cockhead, n’ allllll the way down his shaft.

Body moving before your mind, you’re reaching out to grab at his tannish cock. The flatness of your thumb easily smears the lines of precum he was leaking out, letting them glide along the veins that decorated either side of his shaft.

So textured, you wondered how it would feel inside-

“So?” Toji grunts out from above you, peering down. You notice that he still has the remnants of your slick plastered all across his chin, mouth, all the way up to his cheekbones. Worn like some medallion. He sinks his fangs into his lower lip to stop from making too many needy noises as you inspected his sheer size, “Not too late to back out now, doll- heh- oh.”

You’re making him swallow that cocky laughter of his back.

Because in a few sultry split-seconds, you have your mouth pointed right above the divot on his shaft. Spitting. You let the dollop of spittle ooze down his shaft for a bit, before immediately taking his tip into your mouth.

Oh, he’s reaching for the roof of your mouth instantly.

So thick. So plump. You shut your eyes and groan at the salty-sweet taste that greets you, it’s surprisingly not unpleasant. 

And Toji lets off a low whistle at the slobbered display, “Oho?” Looking at you through his lashes, you stare up with doey, teary eyes and he feels himself throb at near the back of your throat. “Sh-shit- dooon’t fucking look at me like that. Oh, you know what you’re doing, woman.”

“Mmmpf-” You moan, your lips ‘round his sensitive slit. They send sinful vibrations that makes the larger man hiss.

“Fuck yeah, you do.” With a mean hand, the fighter grips onto the back of your scalp. Manhandling you slightly, “C’mon, doll. C’mon- let’s see if that slutty mouth o’ yours is just talk.”

And then he’s rutting slightly upwards - gently.

At least, for him. But for you, you’re clawing down the lines of his toned pelvis, struggling to catch your breath-

“Oh? Some claws on ya, girl. Don’t tell me you’re tapping out already? I haven’t even fucked ya dumb yet.” And he has the audacity to make that mocking pout again, “Y’know I’ve been fuckin’ my cock to the, mm, thought of you for months now. And- oh, fuck- keep doing that with your tongue—ngh.”

Your jaw aches, and yet you unhinge it even deeper to let the tip of your tastebuds trace patterns all across the line of his slit. All pinkish and slicked with precum.

He continues, “You wanna know a secret?” It was such a heavenly sight, watching you try to nod with Toji’s fat cock stuffed between your lips. Hell, you hadn’t even taken him all yet. “Right before you came here-” Leaning in, whispering. “-I was jerking my cock- oh-”

“Mhmm—?”

“-to your text, doll.”

Oh, fuck.

You’re plucking yourself off of Toji’s thick crown to gasp- but he doesn’t let you get too far before grabbing you with one hand at your throat. Lightly putting pressure at your sides, he’s crashing his lips onto yours.

“Mmm—” He groans against your lips, tasting you, tasting himself, tasting you. “Get on the middle of the bed, all fours. Wanna see if those other lips of yours are just talk, too.”

“They’re not.” You huff, but do as he says anyway.

Those overworked bedsprings creak as you both reposition yourselves: you on your hands and knees, your face pushed into one of the pillows, and Toji right behind you.

His rough hands bend your spine into a cute lil’ curvature, and then proceeds to bang the ends of his fingertips against your weepy pussy. “Easy there, mama.” Toji coos once you buck with a whimper, “Toji’s here n’ you just have to be my good girl and take it, alright?”

You’re nodding, “Just shut up and fuh-fuck me already.”

“Tut tut, greedy girl.”

But he’s doing as you say anyway - oh, he’d do anything you say, to be quite honest. You’re inching your needy cunt closer to where his erection was upright, and Toji holds onto the base of his cock to just slightly eeeeease his way in.

His plump, puckered tip pries apart your folds.

From his honed end, all the way down to where his cockhead swells, you’re feeling him stretch you wiiide open as he enters. “Oh my- fuck! You feel even bigger than you looked-”

“Why, thank you…heh.” And you swear you can feel his red-hot girth throb even bigger. Wider. Since Toji was rock-fucking-hard, you could sense any and every change in his size. “Now don’t run, alright?”

“Why would I-” You’re cutting your own self off, feeling him give the slightest half-thrust from behind. And it’s enough to make you lurch your hand out and grab onto one of the spindles of his headboard. “-oh- oh, I get it now.”

“Mhm—knew you’d wanna run, all talk.” Shaking his head and his shaggy strands, Toji had to have some extra, extra precaution, you see.

Just a warning wasn’t enough. So without further ado, his beefy forearm reaches out to hold tightly onto your neck. Squeezing either side of it, he feels the way your pulse thunders underneath his touch.

Throat strangled with spittle and whines. “Oh my god-” Even more so when he starts rutting his hips like an animal.

“Easy there, eeeeasy there.” He’s reassuring you from behind, as if his achingly hard cock wasn’t splitting you open incredibly. “S’just the tip, doll. You can take it- shhh, you can take it.”

“Whaddaya mean this is just the tip?” You gasp, feeling your body being pulled into his like a ragdoll. He manhandles you as if you’re nothing, constantly grinding your hips back against that scruffy happy trail of his.

“Well, just the tip aaaaand…” You’re quickly learning that whenever Toji elongates his words, he’s dragging out his thrusts, too.

Letting the thick, vein-covered length of his shaft gliiiide all across your walls and then right back. Baaaack and forth. Baaaack and forth. With a sensual pace, he’s inching his way in- the fat, bulbous end of his shaft acting like the headlight. Spearing. He snickers, “-an inch more. Two.”

Tears stream down your cheeks, and Toji’s lavish tongue careens out to lick at them deliciously. “A-and- oh, how much more is there?”

He casually leans his weight back to check, and the fighter’s greedy gaze gets stuck on the sight of your pussy suckin’ him up. Slurping him. 

It’s like your pussylips were stretched apart so widely and struggling to take his merciless pace- yet still clamping down, still glistening with wetness after each one of his rugged strikes. “Oh, just about two inches…three…four-” Toji whispers hotly against your ear, “Y’know what- how about I just tell you after you’ve taken all, mm, nine inches, doll?”

Nine inches?

Oh, you were done for.

You weren’t walking out of this very penthouse.

“Yeah, you’re not.” He confirms your thought- shit, you’d said that out loud. Just so dickmatized by the way his flared ridges were swervin’ all around your tight walls.

The curvaceous line of his cockhead nudges apart your channel, and you feel his hold tighten even further. “But the good news- you’re gonna take- ngh, my entire cock, won’t you?” Breathy. He was speeding up his cadence now. Long, thorough strokes. “Gonna take e-every single inch?”

“Yes-” You claw at the headboard, “Yes yes yes yes-”

And then rings the loudest squeeeelch ever as he’s fitting in a few more inches, “Mhmmm, and you’re gonna- ngh- love it.”

Both you and your sloppy pussy do - and he can tell.

All that arousal. All those cute noises you were making. You’re feeling the exact way the zig-zagged pattern of his veins massages your cunt, just perfectly scratching every carnal inch. And he’s almost bottoming-out, almost feeling his reddened tip hit the back of your pussy-

Before you clench around his rude cock—

And you hear the exact, shattered moment that Toji’s breath catches. “Oh fuck-” He stills, “Oh fuck, this won’t work-”

Blinking over your shoulder, “Toji?”

“Fuck.”

His bass cracks at the tail end of that profanity.

And in a mere instant - so fast that you don’t even have enough time to compute - you’re finding your head trapped in one of Toji’s infamous headlocks.

Sure, he’d often used it in a much less attractive way with his opponents.

But never had he used it like this. And you’re choking at the restraint of his flexing muscles, all bulged and big. His biceps digs perfectly against the front of your throat, and you feel your saliva come out in heaps- “Toji- Toji Toji Toji- oh, I can feel you hit my c-cervix.”

Sure enough, he’d dragged you back to bottom out.

The curvy tip of his shaft cutely bumpin’ your cervix, you feel a sticky layer of his precum drip out at the fact. Pulling back, back, baaaaack - right until his plump crown kisses your hole, and then all the way back in again.

In and out. In and out.

So thoroughly, he’s fucking his rock-hard cock into you. Leaving absolutely no hidden spot unturned, leaving your fuzzy brain in absolute shambles.

“You said- hah, you said I didn’t kiss you, right?” Toji rasps against the shell of your ear, his heated proximity making goosebumps run down your spine. And, honestly, at this point you can barely even remember the conversation that’d led up to him saying this. “Well, here I am now-”

“What you do…oh.”

His cock was hitting your cervix- smooching it. Hard, wettened kisses.

Over and over. Toji smashes you back against his pistoning hips, and with his other hand he’s sliding slithering a hand down to your pussy - spanking. “See? M’kissing her, too, now.” He’s tittering, so thoroughly proud of the way your mouth waters.

“That doesn’t cou-”

Smack!

“What was that—?”

The force of it is so pleasurable that your body automatically holds onto the headboard and tries to heave yourself upwards. Thrashing. To which Toji turns his beady eyes down at the futile escape route-

And immediately slams his hand down on the flat top of the headboard.

“Speak t’me, mama- what was, ngh, that?”

Splitting it straight down in two.

You gape stupidly at the way the bed frame easily cracks underneath his strength, and Toji’s taking the slight distraction as an opportunity to lean back onto his haunches. 

And he’s taking you right with him.

Toji’s sitting back on his heels, his buttocks resting on the balls of his feet. And you’re somewhat seated on his lap, still having him fuck upwards into you- with this position, he’s reaching his globular tip so deeply.

Even further than he ever had before, he wetly glissades his tip to pierce your womb. “Ngh- fuck.” Grunting in your ear, “You can’t tell me that doesn’t count, doll.” So he did know what you were about to say. 

Stirrin’ up your goopy insides, he feels like velvet inside. And you think he’s slowly molding your cunt to his exact size, every line of his vein, every inch. “See? One kiss.” Toji counts out, and immediately you’re feeling his cocktip swipe your cervix. Thudding. “Two kisses.” Another one. “Three kisses-”

Four. 

Five.

Six.

Seven- it’s on this one that his glistening wet tip manages to locate your g-spot. Since his shaft was more right-leaning, it was oh-so-easy for him to constantly glide down that one spot.

“E-eight-” You count out, by yourself.

And if you could see him right now, you’d have noticed the way that Toji’s predatory eyes widened with pleasant surprise. Oh, you were cockdrunk. He holds you down to him, “Oho? You can count it by yourself now, huh? Then- haaaah, how about- this?”

“Nine-” You blurt out, saliva sploshin’ down the entire front of your chin. “Ten- ngh, eleven.”

“That was actually twelve, but close enough.” He rolls his eyes - he couldn’t punish you too much for that, just a few sodden spanks at the forefront of your cunt. And that was it, really. He’d decided to go easy on you this time, really. Now for him to smoothly shovel his shaft into you, until you were idly reaching your second orgasm of the night.

Hah- as if.

After two slaps to your clit, the fighter edges himself close to your ear and mutters out. “If you can’t do that- could you at least, mm, fuck back into me.”

You whine, “Do I have to? But you do it so good…”

“Spoiled brat.” Yet another swat down on your slit, he caresses your clit as if making up for it. And before long, you’re feeling the spearheading tempo of his cock slow down. “C’mon now- up! There we go- get to work, doll.”

“Mmpf- you’re gonna pay for this.” You growl, doing your very best to try and get your legs to work. They’d been taking it for so long, limp at the pressure, that your hamstrings were positively screaming now. “Shit- but I wanna go faster, oh.”

Toji rolls his eyes with a scoff, “So go faster, girl. What’s the hold up?”

“It just feels so- so- oh.” It just felt so good is what you wanted to say - but you don’t sputter out the words right at that moment (you didn’t want to feed his ego too much). 

“So so oh?” He mocks, “Didn’t I say this pretty pussy of yours was- oh, chattier? Think she might just be more articulate, too- heh.”

“Sh-shut up.”

And as if to prove a point, your sloppy drags only made your cunt echo out even louder. The skin on your ass cheeks burned after each slam against his hips, and Toji was just so ripped that every rut left the indentations of his v-line stinging.

“Ngh- fuck.” You arch your back and attempt to slide down his thick cock easier, rubbin’ that part of your g-spot against where his veins were most prominent. 

You hated to admit it, but your limbs were growing all weary. And Toji lets out a huff of breathy laughter as he noticed the way your cadence seemed to be slowing down, “Mmm, feelin’ tired, are we? You’re not tapping out any time soon, m’kay?”

“But- but I’m so-” You whine, your fingers fisting in the silk bedsheets. They seemed to be the expensive type, yet ruined with a damp layer of sweat n’ slick. Soon enough, you’re dropping to the bed with a weary mewl. “-shit, I don’t know if I can go any longer-” 

You don’t even get to finish your sentence.

You don’t even get to finish the lone, sloppy thrust that you were stumblin’ across

Not before Toji’s then taking over. He gets up off his haunches, pushing you rudely onto all fours again. 

And this time? He wasn’t holding back.

“Allll that talk- cheh.” Toji’s spitting down at your pussy, lubricating it once again despite you not even needing it. Before long, you’re being pounded by his long, heavy cock- feeling every single inch in your throat. “But your Toji just has to finish this pretty pussy off, hm?”

“Yes- yes-” You don’t even feel slightly embarrassed in admitting, “Jus’ wanna cum, Toji- ngh, I’m so close.”

“Oh, mama, I know.” Two rugged pads of his fingers come down to slap your clit, smoothing it over with a few gentle rolls. But you’re so far gone at this point that even that makes you see stars- “And you’re gonna cum allll over my- hah, cock, alright? All over.”

Nodding pathetically, you were just drippin’ in spit and sweat. Body shaking with the pangs of pleasure already- “All over b-but you then you have to cum right in here, okay?”

His breath catches, “Wh-where?” Toji stutters.

Blissfully ignorant, you point down the front of your stomach. Drawing a line right where you could feel his rotund tip bottoming out after every thrust, “I don’t think m’gonna last that long.”

“Oh.”

There was something broken in his voice as he registers what you were just telling him with your actions - that you wanted him to finish inside. To pump you so full of cum that it’ll drip out of you. To make sure you feel him from the outside and the inside.

He’s fucking you so hard that the skin ‘round his pelvis had begun to rub raw, slightly overstimulating his tip against the softness of your cunt. Toji pushes down on your body, pinning you down with his weight.

Manhandling you.

So much manhandling.

In this mean doggy position, he leans down and pinches your clit. “Oh, doll, you can’t even imagine what m’gonna do to ya-” Ruined. Shattered baritone. “-don’t even know how far m’gonna fill you up with my cum. You’re gonna be- ngh, overspilling.”

“Yes yes yes- I want it.” And now you’re gyrating your hips back into his- hah, he could almost tease you for it. So you had the desperation now? “Please- give it t’me-”

“Nuh uh, you have to cum first.”

“But- ngh.” A pinch at your clit, a puckering kiss. And Toji hits your g-spot so hard that you swear you see the pearly gates of heaven: you’re cumming.

Wave after wave of your white-hot high.

The pleasure thrums in your veins, and you’re crying out as Toji hits every precious spot with his globular tip. Pinpointed precisely. Your knees weaken- you were mistaken earlier, this was the best orgasm you’ve ever had.

He’s not too far behind.

With a grunt, Toji cums. And after every riveting peak of your high, he’s pourin’ out in sticky wads of cum. It’s like an ivory sap that takes over every inch of your insides, hot and wet.

You squeal as you feel the gluey layer of it stuff you to the brim, ultimately ending up formulating a ring of white around the girth of his hilt. “Cumming-” You blabber tearily, your brain foggy with the feeling of him cumming inside you. Turning around to face him, “I’m c-cumming, Toji.”

“Mmm, you are. So pretty takin’ my- ngh, cum.” Toji’s rough lips kiss down the line of your spine, and his fingers dip from your clit to tease your creamy slit. “I love this view.”

The more he’s swiping away the droplets of cum that pour out of your pussy, the more that keeps sprinkling out - and he honestly doesn’t know whether that’s his fault or yours.

Letting the treacly glaze drip down to his wrist, Toji brings his sticky hand up to your mouth. “Spread those lips f’me, doll- yeahhh, like that.” He murmurs, thickly. And you whimper as he sticks his adhesive-like fingertips into your mouth, making you suck on the salty sap. 

Cleaning it off.

It feels like years - almost like eons - until Toji’s finally finished riding out his high, just as strong as yours. He hunches over as he cums-

“Oh, we’re not done y-yet, doll.” Too soon, you’re being dragged back into his hulking body. And since he was finally done with webbing up your insides, now came the fun part where he was fucking it in. Each n’ every gooey wad seeped into your innards. Those earlier specks that’d leaked out from before? Well he’s using his fingers to push those in, too. “You didn’t think that a world-class fighter had a stamina that low, did ya?”

Gasping, you don’t think you can trust your very eardrums right now. “So you mean to say…”

“Mhm.” Toji’s fucking you into utter stupidity- easily flipping you over, you’re being folded into the sloppiest mating press in existence. He mutters to you as he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending you down. “Y’know…MMA championships have five rounds.”

“Oh- and?”

Toji just grins, drilling out a heavy thrust. “One down, four to go, mama.”

.

.

.

“Wow! That was a mean right hook, I definitely wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that strength.” You bite back a grin at the commentator’s voice—oh, how you knew. “Toji Fushiguro sends Naoya Zenin flying–”

You can’t bring yourself to wince as the two-tone-haired man lands on the other side of the octagon with a shuddering thud.

Too excited from your seat in the cageside area - the closest you could be to the fighters - as part of the team. It was your first time officially accompanying Toji to one of his big fights, as his physical therapist.

And his lover.

Though, that part was a secret (more or less, you swear you’d seen most of the gym giving you knowing looks whenever you clocked into work walking a little funny, or whenever Toji had sauntered into the locker room; hickies, nail marks, and all). But for now you settled into your role as the alert physical therapist, watching out for any points in which Toji showed signs of discomfort or soreness.

“Can you hear the crowd- they’re in uproar!”

“Well, it’s no wonder. Toji Fushiguro’s comeback has been long-awaited- ouch, that’s a nice uppercut from Toji.” Another voice bellows.

And the others hum in agreement. “And after his unfortunate streak last year, the champion found his footing once more. With a winning streak that’s one of the longest recorded in recent years, the man is unstoppable!”

“I guess the million dollar question of the night is - can he win the finals tonight?”

Though your efforts were likely for naught, because your boyfriend was at the top of his game.

Without letting Naoya even get up (some rookie hotshot, according to Toji, who had to be put in his place), the older man is pummeling him with a right hook, left hook, right hook, left hook. Until that cocky face of his looked mangled.

And the referee is rushing to his side- about to crouch on the floor for the countdown. The commentators have their announcement of his win on the tip of their tongue. The crows is already reaching a fever point-

It’s in that moment that Toji looks at you.

Towering, the lone fighter standing in the middle of the cage, he stares.

He smiles.

He points.

“Aaaaand the countdown is over—Naoya Zenin down! Toji Fushiguro has won the title of world light heavyweight champion once more! It’s a historical win for Toji!”

You’re all on your feet. The team claps each other on the back, the commentators are shaking hands. Shiu catches the way that Toji immediately heads for you - barely waiting till the heavy golden belt was draped across his body, barely letting the referee raise his hand in the air. Victory.

And he chuckles, “I already knew.” Taking a celebratory drag of his cigarette, “Guess I’m winning the bet.”

Your eyes bulge, “You guys bet on us?”

“Ever since the first day you walked in, sugar.” He chuffs, and lightly nudges your shoulder with his. “No go to him- before he tears down the cage, that is.”

Shiu was right to be worried. By the time you’re reaching the edge of the octagon, Toji has already jumped down from it- and you’re barely registering his brilliant grin before you’re in his arms. His face crushed into the nook of your neck. Arms looped around your waist.

In the distance, it seems, you can hear reporters and fans alike scream questions about you and your relationship. Something you’re sure will end up on every headline and front page of those sports gossip magazines that you now read. Hell, you can even hear the members of your team catcall and howl from the sidelines. 

But right now, it’s as if Toji’s voice is the only sound in your ears. “We won.”

You smile, “You won.”

He shakes his head, “Come off it, silly girl. We won.” And even in front of everyone else, even in front of the cameras, he nods down at the very obvious bite marks on your neck. The way your knees were slightly weak. Your core was slightly sore. Evidence of last night. “And m’gonna win a whole lot more tonight-”

“Five rounds just like this championship, then?” You tease, squirming in his strong arms. And he only pulls you even tighter to him-

“Actually, I hear the IMMAF is trying to make it six rounds…”

A/N. Listen I don’t condone J*o J*ekyung but Toji?? Gimme.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[applepilvrr]

texts with frat!sukuna except you’re scared of him

note : you were working on a group project with him plus four other people, till you two got assigned to finish the last part together.

masterlist part two here!

[indiewritesxoxo]

pick your player!

choose your route and clear each level!

content: mdni, angst and fluff and smut, modern AU, f! reader(s), established relationships, breakups/makeups, all of these take place in the same au but with diff readers, oral (m! + f! receiving), piv sex, sukuna + naoya are their own warnings lol, gojo + choso being down atrociously for their girls :p

cyberbully!Sukuna x f2p!Reader

one two three four five six seven eight

cutscenes : five stars

ex-bf!Naoya x influencer!Reader

one two three four five six

streamer!Choso x fangirl!Reader

one two three four five six

cutscenes: game over?

chronically online loser loverboy!Gojo x nerdy!Reader

one two three four five six seven

cutscenes: marriage material

pro-gamer!Geto x roommate!Reader

one two three four five six seven

youtuber!Nanami x cosplayer!Reader

one two three four five six seven

bonus:

their valentine's day gift to you + your gift to them

first big fight + making up

wedding bells + honeymoon

horny halloween

dilfs!

[bakugoubaby]

Someone slides up on pro hero Dynamite's live and asks what his skincare routine is.

"What's my skincare routine?" He pauses for a second and looks at you in your tiny pink lace slip dress putting dishes away. It has cute sakura flowers adorning your chest, holding it up nice and pretty.

"My girl sits on my face every morning n night, next question."

"Katsuki!"

[spideyyeet]

NOT SO SECRET ADMIRER — T.F.

[ SUM ] — college soccer coach toji has a secret admirer. but how secret is it when most of the highlights in the school paper are photos of him, instead of the players scoring goals?

[ TAGS ] — MDNI 18+ ONLY. nsfw. piv. raw. unprotected. age gap (mid 30s x early 20s). slight exhibitionism. HEAVY CREAMPIE. FAT BULGE. spanking. CUNNILINGUS. oral f!recieving. dacryphilia. reader kinda freaky. thick dark sexy HAPPY TRAIL. nudity. SHOWER SEX. SCENT KINK. pet names. spitting. wc: 19.1k

[ A/N ] — inspired by coach!toji from my fratkuna series. I was gooning too much whenever I’d mention him soooo

photo-journalism can mean many things. at its core though is documentation and being present. it’s about recording what happens so it doesn’t vanish into the noise of the world. and that’s what you’ve been doing since you started uni.

working for the school newspaper means covering everything that matters to the university. big events, games, and when you attend a school with a division 1 soccer team, that’s ranked the top of the country, it means your weekends are spent on the sidelines of the pitch. floodlights humming overhead, cleats tearing into the turf, and the air sharp with anticipation.

everyone’s eyes are on the match, on the players, the scoreline, and the inevitable victory. everyone’s, except yours.

your lens has a habit of drifting. and it always finds him on the sidelines, the head coach.

standing just outside the white chalk lines. shaggy raven hair that never looks styled, stubble he clearly forgot—or chose not—to shave that morning. his infamous scar pulling at his lips as he shouts. he wears the same black team jacket unzipped, sleeves rolled up his thick forearms. when he folds his arms or gestures sharply toward the field, you always catch his muscles shifting beneath the fabric, veins flexing making it so impossible to ignore.

it’s just a photographer’s eye for striking subjects. for sure….

he beautifully contrasts against the chaos of the game…even if he’s shouting, or breaking his clipboard…. still, you capture him mid-shout, mid-thought, jaw clenched as he’s holding the entire team together.

and then later, when the photos run, and his photos dominate the highlights more than the actual goal, well, you pretend not to notice how often your name sits beneath them in a small, neat printed font.

he doesn’t know you. you’re just another person with a camera on the sidelines. you’re just another face in a sea of professional press badges, not just one of the universities many photographers. but you know him. you know the way his brows pinch when one of his players gets injured, the way his mouth twitches when his team scores, and the way he exhales with relief when the game ends.

and you keep clicking the shutter button—

“again?!” the head editor exclaims. “you didn’t get the goal?”

“I did!” you huff, glaring at the senior grad student who basically runs the entire school newspaper.

“not the first one, the final goal! the one scored by the universities ace! sukuna—“

“god forbid i missed a shot, I basically got everything else, plus I’m not the only one taking photos on the pitch. don’t you have other photographers?” you tsk, arms crossed.

he glares at you behind his desk, clicking through the photos you’d uploaded. “you got every single expression of the damn coach,” he mutters under his breath, clicking through one of toji shouting, then another of him spitting on the grass, then another of him scratching his jaw—

you nibble on your cheek, slouching slightly in the seat.

“you hate when we use someone else’s photos,” he adds, licking his teeth as he finally gets to your photos of the actual players. and they were spectacular. the action shots were perfect, you can see the sweat dribbling down their foreheads.

“because it’s my job,” you mutter, glancing at your editor who frowns when the photos return back to the head coach.

“unbelievable,” he mumbles, exhaling slowly as he sits back in his seat. “you’re killing me.”

your heel kicks the floor. this wasn’t a first. this happens almost every time. your lens just happens to drift away from the ball and fall on the head coach.

even with fans shouting in the stands, and the other cameras flashing in the other direction. your camera can’t help but find coach toji in the chaos. he was just as important as the team. he’s acting like toji isn’t mentioned a million times in the articles! god forbid you want him getting his flowers. but your editor wasn’t very appreciative of your sympathies.

“we’re going with these three, and taking one from the other photographers for the final goal you didn’t get,” he sighs, showing you your three photos, one of the team celebrating, another of satoru gojo sprinting across the field with the ball, and of course, the final — and in your opinion the best — of head coach toji standing with his muscular arms crossed at the start of the second half.

your editor rolls his eyes turning his screen back to him. “if you bring another folder and it’s seventy percent of this damn coach, I’ll drop you and pull noah up.”

the threat has you lowering your head and muttering a hesitate okay, because at the end of the day, you were the only photographer that worked full time for the paper, and you go to every single match. the rest are focused on other stories, or working their way to become editors.

while you liked photo-journalism more. it helped, that on weekends, you got someone to admire. and your editor was not the only one that’s noticed.

“what the hell, you’ve got to be kidding me,” geto huffs, snatching the paper from gojo as he sits on the pitch. “why am I never in these damn fucking articles??” he huffs with anger

“score more goals,” gojo sticks his tongue out, just to get kicked harshly by his friend.

“I fucking scored this game,” geto snaps, grumbling even more as he flips through the paper, seeing the team celebrating.

sukuna chugs his water behind them, “my picture sucks ass,” he grumbles, spitting the water right beside their goalie making him jerk back in annoyance. “you didn’t score, but I get the shit picture?” he snaps lowly at gojo.

geto frowns, “I scored, and at least you get a picture.”

gojo chuckles, pointing at the next photo, making the entire team roll their eyes simultaneously.

“some things never change,” one teammate, yuno, mutters. his hands are on his hips as him and the rest of the team glare at the immaculate, pristine, jaw-dropping photo captured of their strict, grumpy, nicotine addicted head coach, toji.

sukuna snarls as geto looks like he’s going to fucking tear out his luscious black hair. “fucking unbelievable.”

gojo snorts even louder, snatching the paper just to wave it from his place on the ground towards toji, who’d just gotten off the phone. “coach! you’re mogging the cameras again!”

toji’s brows pinch until he notices the photo. and it’s always the same reaction from the head coach. his eyes scan over the photo, then they fall down to the same printed name underneath. “not bad,” he casually says, handing back the newspaper like it’s nothing.

but the entire team is seething, with the exception of gojo laughing his ass off.

“I finally figured out who your secret admirer is,” gojo announces, “it’s definitely the cutie with the charm on her camera and stickers on her flashlight.”

geto raises a brow “how d’ya know that?” the rest of the team immediately huddle in.

gojo clears his throat.

“for the last few games I’ve been purposely fixing my shoes or drinking water on the sidelines where they’re all huddled up. obviously I ruled out all the old farts, then I narrowed it down to the ladies. then i crossed out the outside press, but it’s hard since I can’t see all their press badges—but then i noticed,” gojo holds up the newspaper, slapping his index finger on your name beneath the photo. the entire team have basically memorized your full name by now. “she was the only one still photographing the field, BUT it was pointed at coach,” gojo points to toji.

“AND,” gojo continues, “she had this cute little charm on her camera, and this sticker. and it’s definitely your secret admirer,” gojo confidently smiles.

however, geto scratches his jaw, glancing at gojo then the newspaper. “so which one was her instagram?”

oh right, gojo rubs his neck in disappointment.

your name under a majority of the game’s photos started catching the teams attention a couple months ago. your credentials at the bottom of the article was always signed with your first and last name. however, when the team caught on to your not-so secret admiration for their coach, and neglect of the rest of team, they tried stalking you.

yet, they couldn’t find a single social media handle. not your instagram, twitter, tiktok — even your linkedIn was just the default linkedIn pfp. and the school paper website didn’t have a photo for you. either way, the team was on a mission.

“I don’t think her socials are even under her name,” gojo admits, making the team groan.

toji, silently watching the ordeal transpire, claps his hands, breaking the gossip. “enough, continue your drills unless ya wanna stay till sunset!”

once the team finally finishes practice and began packing their gear. neither one of them notices the students enjoying the nice weather on campus, or the girl that take a detours to walk past the field.

your eyes easily fall on your perfect subject. his hand cracks his neck as he stifles a yawn, kicking the soccer ball towards one of the players as they kick it up, tucking it under their arm.

it was a routine….one that you found yourself subconsciously doing on practice days. you would follow the path down from the quad, until you reach the second soccer field on campus, mainly used for practice and training.

your bag hangs off your shoulder along with your camera — the lens was downsized to your fixed 24mm and the flash wasn’t on — that’s usually how your camera is when you aren’t at events, or games.

it isn’t uncommon to watch the schools infamous soccer team practice. especially when half of them are also part of a fraternity. hell, on the other side of the field were a few girls fawning over the sweaty players.

in other words, you don’t stand out. and you’re unbothered by the hot players that glance your way as they pack their bags. well, until a certain white haired player is squinting across the field, before muttering a quiet “no way…”

geto gives his friend a look, lifting his duffle over his shoulder as sukuna wipes his face with the hem of his jersey, “what?” he grumbles.

gojo’s bag hit the grass. he locks eyes with you. then he does the worst thing imaginable. he shouts your name.

the entire team snap their necks in your direction. gojo suddenly leads the pack of six foot whatever college men across the field — their bags drop, cleats half untied, some bare foot. but all on one mission.

you.

the color immediately drains from your face. your body freezes like a deer in headlights. and when the entire team of sweaty, built, hot men crowd the waist-high fence that separate them from you. you’re ultimately stuck.

“you’re-you’re—“ slightly out of breath and pumped full of adrenaline, gojo heaves out your name. not just a first name, no—your full government name. “right!?”

you eyes lazily drag between the men, fixing the strap of your bag, your camera clinking against the side, drawing every man’s attention to the little charm gojo had just described less than an hour ago.

“yeah,” you manage to exhale, shifting your balance. “did you need something?”

“yeah,” the low voice of the hot headed team captain interrupts. he hadn’t ran with rest of the players, instead he walked up, casual and full of loud confidence. finally making his way across the field, energy drink in hand, glaring right through you as he continues. “why the fuck was my picture the only one not taken by you? it looks like shit.”

you exhale, about to answer when another one cuts in.

“why haven’t you taken one of me? the game last month was my debut and you didn’t get me going on the pitch—“

“I liked that shot you got of me when—“

“can you get my good side next time—“

“why did you—“

“can you—“

“you didn’t get my goal!” geto manages to dogpile. all the men yell complaints and compliments, overwhelming you with critiques. until you’re frowning, glaring harshly at the group of men you’d watched from a distance since your freshman year.

“I don’t work for you guys,” you finally snap. your words are cold making the men frown. “I work for the schools paper, and they choose the photos, not me.”

“and yet coach is in every single one of em?” geto bites back, and that’s when they all catch the slight surprise that crosses your face.

gojo smirks, leaning over the fence, getting close as he tilts his head. “seems like a majority of your photos have our coach. it’s like your editor can’t help but be forced to put him in.”

you feel your stomach churn, glancing between the sharp sapphire eyes. “that’s not how it works,” you mutter.

you did not expect your first interaction with the soccer team to be this. accusing you of favoritism. you can practically feel all their eyes on you, like they knew exactly who you are, even if this is your first time speaking to them.

“sure looks like it,” sukuna drawls, smirking wide when he sees you shift uncomfortably. “you like our coach or somethin?”

“of course she does,” geto’s smooth voice cuts in. “do you get all hot lookin at coach toji?”

you swallow thickly, pushing down the heat crawling up your neck to glare at the men. “you guys are disgusting,” you spit, but the men don’t falter, instead they continue gloating and poking.

“we just wanna get to know you. you’ve been takin’ our pics for months, we can’t have a chat now?” geto cuts.

they were quietly impressed with your composure. your poker face would’ve been perfect if not for the slight fidgeting you’re doing with your bag and camera strap. either way, your glare was mean, unwavering until—

“cut it out.”

the sharp voice slices through the team. then, one strong palm shoves gojo into geto, and the rest of the team topple on each other like dominos. the head coach plants himself between the fence, his team, and you.

“i forget you’re all a couple children,” toji tsks, his arms are crossed standing like a lone knight keeping a pack a wolves from a poor princess.

your heart slams against your rib cage. all your composure evaporates into thin air, struggling to catch your breath. this was the closest you’ve gotten to the head coach. you can practically smell the mixture of his cologne and natural musk. your cheeks grow hotter by the second, completely dazed and loosing all other senses, unaware that practically half the team noticed your sudden shift.

gojo elbows geto eyeing the way your pupils basically turn into bright pink hearts. even your lips look more glossy from the drool collecting in your mouth.

they’d never seen anything like it, and for their coach of all people?!

you’re caught up in gawking at the huge man, eyeing his wide shoulders, the veins straining from his compression shirt, his shirt clinging to every muscle that could break you in a blink of an eye — that you miss his short lecture towards his boys to quit scaring off a young woman, all to end with him shouting—

“ten more laps!”

the team’s eyes bulge, jaws dropping in shock, and quickly follow up with a spew of complaints.

“ya heard coach!” sukuna, the hot-headed captain, interrupts. and if the team wasn’t scared of their coach, they definitely had a reason to be with their captain. they ultimately drop their things and start their laps. however, sukuna hangs back at bit, “I didn’t even say sh—“

“you were late to practice, so you were gonna do the laps anyways,” toji cuts, earning a loud tsk from the tattooed captain. his duffle drops on the floor dramatically, eyes flicking towards yours, which — no surprise — haven’t left the coach’s profile, and with his own groan, his cleats hit the grass starting his lap.

with the entire team running laps….you’re left alone.

coach toji doesn’t move.

instead, he leans against the fence, strong arms crossing. you’re barely a foot behind him, close enough that the scent of grass and dizzy cologne reaches you when he shifts his weight. close enough that your brain short-circuits again.

then he looks over his shoulder.

it’s not rushed or sharp. it was an easy turn of his head, his dark emerald eyes flick to you with calm, assessing. and up close, he’s worse. he’s broader than he looks from the sidelines, his stubble shadowing his jaw feels unfair for a sunday morning. sunlight catches the edge of his cheekbone, and the curve of his mouth makes you stare shamelessly especially when it lifts just slightly. he’s amused by something you’re not aware of yet and you don’t even notice.

your heart stutters.

you practically forget how to stand or how to function like a grown ass adult, instead you feel like someone who’s just had their fantasy materialize directly in front of them.

heat rushes to your face, your chest tightens, and you pray, desperately, that your expression isn’t as transparent as it feels. you focus on keeping your hands still, even as your pulse flutters wildly under your skin.

and toji’s gaze lingers. he takes you in like the way someone experienced does, without staring, without shame, just a brief glance that drifts. from your fidgeting fingers, to your necklace trapped between your pretty cleavage, to the tank top that hugs your chest, to the zip up hoodie falling off your soft shoulder. to your lips, wet from the amount of times you’d lick and bit them.

and you still don’t notice it! you’re too busy trying not to melt into the grass beneath your feet. all you register is how hot the space suddenly feels, how solid he seems standing there.

from the field, a player snickers mid-lap. a majority watching the entire interaction, waiting for someone to make a move. gojo snickers as geto analyzes.

you don’t hear any of it, all you know is that the knights are real, and he’s right in front of you, and your carefully maintained composure never stood a chance. especially when his eyes meet yours and his deep, husky, voice sinks into your bones.

“been wondering who was seein’ me like that, sweetheart.”

you were gone.

s-s-s-sweetheart!?

your heart bursts, veins burning through your skin as your lips part, words falling into the void as your brain struggles to reply.

and he finds it adorable.

college girls are cute, but you, you’re a little pervert. how many photos have you taken of him? and for the past year too? he’s wondered just like his team had, who was behind all those photos. who was oogling him while the best team in the nation was playing right before their eyes?

at first, he was bothered, confused even, how big of a stalker did you have to be to take his photos for months and not introduce yourself?

but now he sees it. the way you’re struggling to find words. the way your eyes flick between his — surprised even that you’re not shying away from eye contact, but instead, struggling to just respond. like the words are right there, but your dumb brain is getting fried just by his presence. cute.

“I’ll try an’ wink next time.”

he just hammers the nail straight into your heart. your face bursts into flames as you let out a strangled hum like whine, face burning even more. unfortunately, your audience isn’t as silent. instead a few had caught your reaction and were bursting with laughter. a few whistling at their coach.

“she’s too young for ya, coach!”

“get someone y’er own age!”

“coach, the shy ones are the freakiest!”

the last one — somehow — snapped you back to reality. your glare cut through the field, immediately hitting one of the players making him burst out laughing along with the others around him. your face pulls into a scowl, heart hammering at the teasing you’re receiving from the team. who even are they? they don’t know anything about you!

shy?! you?!!! you scowl in annoyance, eyes rollin—

“ignore em, sweetheart. they’re just being dicks.”

fuck.

your face burns hot again, heart hammering against your ribs as you stutter out another nod, fingers gripping your bag as you glance at the head coach again. his green eyes were unbelievably dark, just staring at them, you felt like you were getting dizzy.

the scar on his lip twitches up, leaning an elbow on the fence, his eyes flick down to your camera. “what kinda camera is that?”

your eyes widen, looking down like you’re surprised it’s there. but it seems like he flicks a switch in your brain with that question, because now you’re fumbling to hold the delicate thing in your hands. then you hold it out for him.

a small puff of air leaves his nose in amusement. you’re cute. he turns, reaching his hand out, just for your small ones to place the expensive camera in his. the same one you’d deny your friends from even holding, afraid they’ll drop it.

b-but if coach toji holds it…if he wants to hold it…who…who are you to stop him!!!

your blush only breaks out across your body once you feel your hands brush his, eyes so bright and big even he can see the hearts explode from your irises, fuzzy pink flowers glowing around your head like a cartoon.

“looks expensive,” he finally takes his eyes away from you to momentarily examine the camera. it was nice, sony. “bought it yourself?”

you nod, smiling as you rock on your heels. “it was…” oh first words, toji’s eyes flick to you, eyeing your glossy lips as they part. “my first big purchase,” you glance at the camera then back up at toji as you point with your manicured index finger, towards the camera. “it’s nice…right?”

well fuck me.

toji chuckles internally. he really can’t read you. from rude (to the team), to shy, to snappy (to the team), to demure, to charming—all while looking up at him like he’s some shinning knight and not a coach, albeit for the best team in the nation, but still.

his lips curl up, his internal switch already flipped when he shooed the team away, and the smooth voice of his poured out like second nature. “very nice, sweetheart.”

you nod, enthusiastically.

god, you were a cutie.

“and you take such good pictures with it too, you’re a natural,” the sweet words just keep pouring from his mouth like honey, and you’re eating up every drop. your feet manage to carry you closer to the fence…closer to him.

you wet your glossy lips, leaning close to point at the camera, “it also takes video here…I initially wanted to do more videography, but I stuck with photos. but it’s a nice perk with the camera…and I can shoot in raw and jpeg, so I can edit them afterwards if I want, and uh and I have other lenses too. this one is a fixed one, so it can’t zoom, but I have two other ones that zoom, I usually use those ones for work…like during your….games.”

your rambling was one of, if not, the most attractively adorable things you could’ve done at this moment. especially when you’re oblivious to the light flush that settles in the coach’s stomach as he eyes you down.

his gaze flicks between your fingers on the camera, and your profile from his height. your hair lightly brush’s back from the wind exposing your neck, your perfume reaching his nose.

“can I try takin’ a pic?”

your face bursts hot, you feel like it’ll melt off as you gawk up at the head coach, before nodding your head frantically, a wide smile pulling at your lips. you try to clear your throat as you turn the camera on for him and take the lens cap off.

“good?” he asks.

you just nod again, biting your cheek feeling how wide you’re smiling it almost hurts, but you can’t take your eyes off the way his big hands handle your camera. your biggest crush ever is using your camera!

you contain a squeal as he stands straight. he brings the camera to his eye, before lowering it again, confused. your eyes widen momentarily before realizing he’s struggling and quickly stepping up again.

you lean over the fence. and toji purposely avoids coming down to your height. instead, he watches you hold the fence to stand on your tippy toes, the other gently holds his wrist to ask him to lower the camera just a bit from his eye so you can instruct him. fuck, the confidence to touch him when you were just a jittery mess a second ago.

“the shutter button is here. if you half press it, it’ll auto-focus for you—“ you move to the front of the camera flipping some switch, “jus’ turned it on. but just press down all the way and it’ll take the picture,” you say, mistakenly glancing up from where you are, just to realize that coach toji’s face is inches from yours. his warm breath fans against your cheek, his scar so close, his lips right there and his eyes….

you were beyond gone. the steam immediately comes off your face as your eyes turn into big giant hearts. you’re so easy to read it should be illegal.

you fall back on your heels, allowing toji to attempt again. what you weren’t expecting was for him to point the camera at you.

well considering the wider lens, I guess he wants to shoot something closer for more satisfaction. but it caught you slightly off guard, your cheeks flame once more, heart stuttering, but your face immediately lights up.

his lips curve up behind the camera, watching you give him a cute smile, angling your head to tip to the side a bit. people that automatically smile when a camera is pointed at them is definitely a cute trait.

he takes a few quick photos, before pulling the camera back. “how do I see ‘em?”

this time he lowers the camera for you, but keeps it close to his body so you’re still leaning over and up beside him, albeit with the fence between you both.

“ah the sun was behind me,” you realize now looking at the photos. toji hums like he knows what that means (he doesn’t) but he clicks the button to go to the next picture and same thing.

“let’s do it again,” he says, already pulling the camera back, but your finger quickly reaches out, easily flipping it back to view mode before moving back. toji watches you glance up at the sky, before moving yourself in front of the sun. “smile f’er me, sweetheart.”

you were smiling, but now—toji chuckles through his nose at your reaction. he knows exactly what he’s doing. he takes one photo, than another.

your smile turns more pose worthy, not so big, but just as beautiful. “you’re a natural,” he comments, with full honesty.

your cheeks flush, waving your hand in front of you, “don’t glaze me.”

toji snorts, “jus’ saying what I see, not my fault you pose like a model.”

a model?!

toji notices the way you bite your cheek and the way your hands fidget with your bag. “put the bag down, sweetheart.”

your heart skips again, the nickname electing a response from you every time. but you oblige, setting your bag on the ground. now without anything to fidget with, your hands carefully clasp behind your back, your navy hoodie completely off your shoulder, exposing the casual white tank top. his eyes glance at the swell of your tits that your bra pushes up. and the sliver of skin that peaks at the bottom.

the wind was like a perfect accessory, blowing a warm spring breeze in your direction brushing your hair again.

you do your best to pose casually, smiling at the camera, eyes low as you stare into the lens, heart beating erratically as you wait for coach toji to finish.

your breath catches momentarily. cheeks stinging and lips parting like a deer in headlights, because you notice it. just briefly, the way toji lowers the camera from his eye, gaze tracking down your figure, eyeing your thighs, then your hips, then your tits.

he’s definitely checking you out.

you glance away, flustered, unaware that toji was now clicking the library to view the photos he’d just taken.

“I think I’m a pretty good shot,” he compliments his nonexistent skills, but the light hits you so well.

you smile watching him look at the photos. eyes glued to his lazy smirk, stomach hot and heart fluttering at his short comments. he’s so handsome, you glance at the curve of his nose, the stubble on his cheek. he’s so so pretty.

your mind was getting dizzy, all because coach toji is in front of you, but it made you completely forgetful that if he keeps clicking next, it’ll eventually reach—

“oh.”

you first notice the slight raise of his brows, then the scar on his lip twitching wider, then the greens of his eyes darkening.

“did ya’ submit these too, sweetheart?”

your brows furrow for half a second, then it clicks. you lunge forward.

this can’t be happening!

you immediately cover the screen and take the camera as you hear the coach chuckle. of course you’d forgotten that you had these on your sd card.

staring back at you is a photo of toji’s fat bulge from the game. you managed to catch the moment he reached down to itch himself, grabbing it. if he saw this one he definitely saw the three before this of the closeups of his lips, his big biceps, his ass when he was fixing his shoes.

your heart is beating in your ears, skin sizzling with embarrassment as your vision starts to narrow. your eyes flick up to the coach in horror, flustered beyond speech. “it’s not—“ you struggle to explain, “you weren’t supposed to see that. I was just taking one—then I someone bumped so like, the camera went down—“

the rambling was unlike the one before, this one was much more uncoordinated, fueled by your humiliation, anxiety, and desperate attempt at defending yourself to him, so that he doesn’t think you’re some creep.

“I wore that shirt from the match two weeks ago. not this one….” his head tilts, arms folded across his beefy chest. “why do you still have ‘em?”

the older man is quite unbothered. instead, his chest grew hot, and his mind wandered off imagining this hot college girl laying in her bed, staring at pictures of his crotch with her small fingers playing with her wet little pussy. his eyes flick to your chest again.

your eyes are wide, glancing at your camera.

“I just forgot to format the card,” you quickly reply, pretty chest rising and falling. “I always forget, and I realize after when I’m exporting the photos or run out of storage—I delete them, i-i swear!”

he snorts, head tilting, “you swear?”

you nod frantically.

his emerald eyes narrow, tongue poking out to wet his lips, touching his scar. his eyes flick to the camera in your hands. you’re quite the actor…

“okay, I’ll take your word then. you wouldn’t lie to me…?” his gaze was intimidating, the darkness of his pupils felt like a black hole pulling you in. but somehow you manage to shake your head.

“no, sir.”

toji holds eye contact, before tearing it away to reach for his phone, “good girl.”

your heart beats in your throat, threatening to tear out, but you step forward, eyes big and sad. “sorry, coach.” there’s a slight waver in your voice, the man’s eyes widen briefly, chuckling under his breath as he brings a hand up to the crown of your head.

“don’t worry about it, keep taking photos of me. ya’ make me feel important,” his comment is punctuated with a flirtatious wink, shooting another arrow straight into your heart.

you were lovestruck the entire trip home. and so unbelievably grateful.

you talked your way out of such incriminating evidence. because how could coach toji know that in truth, you have an entire album of photos just like the ones he saw, that you pull out almost every night to help you cum.

you really should be an actor, you think, blushing at the way he called you good girl. the way he looked at you, the way his fingers brushed yours on the camera —ahhhh, you bury your hot face in your hands.

you were in shock for days, heart slamming against your chest and face heating up every time you thought back to the moment.

you were so in your head that you hadn’t even noticed the two athletes walking up behind you on your way out of class, crossing the quad.

it’s like that thing that happens. when you’re finally introduced to someone for the first time, then you’re suddenly seeing them everywhere. that’s how geto and gojo felt. you’d been under their noses the entire time.

with a lecture of over two hundred students, of course they’d spot you when you entered today. gojo elbowed his friend, nodding in your direction. geto’s eyes nearly popped.

“what the hell?” geto leans forward, the two men closely watch you enter the lecture hall, walking a few rows down before slipping in. geto’s eyes narrow at the camera you carefully place in your lap as you take out your ipad.

it was like the cards were being dealt out for him perfectly.

“wait, I don’t get it,” gojo huffs catching up to his friend as the lecture hall empties.

geto tsks, “what’s not to get? I’m gonna bribe her into taking photos of me next game. I’m fucking tired of being some fucking blur—“

“you’ve gotten some photos man—“

“well i want more. ones where I’m actually scoring,” geto huffs, brushing his bang back in frustration.

once the two men hit the pavement outside, they spot you. gojo is tagging along for the fun, while geto is set on a mission. one he conjured up mid-lecture the second he saw you. it was perfect. genius—

“what?” your face scrunches in mild disgust. the two men baffle at your reaction, especially at the way you’re looking up at them with narrow, and irritated eyes. your expression isn’t hard to decipher, it’s basically screaming, why tf are you talking to me?

geto licks his teeth, exhaling through his nose, “you heard me fine, sweetheart—“

“don’t call me that.”

his jaw clenches, repeating his line without the pet name. “the next two games are the semifinals and then the finals, so I’ll give you access through our manager to join press during the media window two days before the matches—“

“I already have access to that through the school paper,” you give him a look, immediately ticking him off.

“let me fucking finish will you—“

“you’re taking forever and I’m being cornered,” you snap back, rolling your eyes at the pretentious athlete. geto bites his tongue, as gojo gasps.

“you’re not being cornered!” he states, just to exchange a look with geto as they both see that they’ve steered you off the pavement and against a tree. “no—we’re just talking.”

you exhale, glancing back at geto, “whatever, just finish.”

geto licks his lips, continuing, “you’ll also get access to our locker room strategy meeting or whatever, and behind the scenes access — you only do photos, no video or interviews?”

you shake your head, heart beating just a little quicker because now you’re starting to see the perks. bts access is the one thing university teams can deny since they don’t like any outsiders butting into their strategies or taking them out of “the zone.”

that also means you can see….coach toji.

gojo and geto both notice the realization crossing your face, especially when your lips part, much more glossy than before. unbelievable.

“but,” geto snaps you back, your eyes darting up to meet his, “you better take some good fucking shots of me during the game. if I’m not in the fucking paper and insta page, then no deal.”

you gasp, “dude, you’re literally acting like I’m the one in charge of that?? it’s my editor that picks the photos to put in the articles.”

geto tsks, “yet somehow coach is in every single one.” your jaw clenches, stomach heating up. “take more photos of me so it’s inevitable. got it?”

your lip curls in annoyance, eyeing geto, just for gojo to suddenly but in—

“but also take some of me, i look so hot in them and i like reposting them on my insta,” gojo flashes you a smile.

your frown deepens, “there’s other photographers. you guys know that right?”

“yours are the only ones they choose and they look better than whoever took sukuna’s,” gojo snorts, remembering their captains complaints.

nevertheless, geto and gojo wait for you to agree, both men standing with their arms crossed, blocking the spring sun from hitting you.

then a certain captain happens to pass by, noticing his two teammates, and frat brothers.

“the fuck are you guys doing?”

the men whip their heads as sukuna steps up, bag slung over his shoulder wearing a backwards baseball cap. and with a quick explanation from his friends, sukuna tsks glancing at you and adding.

“coach always showers before or after our games.”

and it was that one bit of information that automatically has you saying: “deal.”

—

you don’t rush setting up. you check your flash, bouncing it once off the ceiling to make sure it won’t wash anyone out. your fingers move with muscle memory, standing in these rooms plenty of times for the school paper, along with other journalists from the school paper especially for media days, post-game scrums, pre-season press.

so this isn’t new territory.

the room is packed, though. there’s national outlets mingling with campus press, and clusters of journalists already talking. you hear familiar phrases float past as you move, many talking about the teams unbeaten streak, their goal differentials, their historic season.

familiar names are easily getting tossed around. captain sukuna coming up first, always, and his leadership, and the way he commands the field. gojo’s speed follows after, and his natural talent and eye for goals, then geto’s consistency, his intelligence and composure. someone mentions scouts again, plural this time, and how a few clubs have been hovering around those three all season.

you barely react because you’ve heard all of this before, and it was impressive of course, you enjoy it. however, what does get you, embarrassingly, is his name.

every time coach toji is mentioned—his tactics, his discipline, the way he rebuilt the program and incorporated new strategies —you feel heat creep up your neck. it’s a soft and traitorous blush that you’re grateful no one’s looking closely enough to notice you smiling.

you keep your eyes on your camera, pretending to fiddle with a setting you don’t actually need to adjust, reminding yourself that he’s just part of the team. a very effective, very respected part of it.

then finally, the noise dips and the conversations fade into an expectant quiet as the side door opens.

the players file in first, with sukuna at the front, expression unreadable, gojo already grinning, geto calm and observant as ever. everyone’s cameras lift, and recorders click on. and then he steps in behind them.

coach toji, in a suit.

your face breaks into a hot mess, heart skipping a beat as you eye him through your lens. it fits him too well. dark, sharp, shoulders filling it out like it was tailored perfectly. no team jacket today, no morning stumble. no, he looked clean, with polished shoes, and authority. he guides the team forward eyes sweeping the room calmly.

your flash fires once, professionalism wavering again. how can it not when your knight is walking into the room and reminding you exactly how out of reach he is.

the entire team easily spots you in the front row for the first time. your charm hangs from your camera strap, along with the little sticker on your godox flash. they all know who you are now, so their wasn’t any hiding the way they’d purposely glance at your camera lens, giving you their best shots.

many of the questions are being directed towards the coach, your eyes focus on his reaction, lens zooming close as he rolls his dress shirt over his forearms. your camera flashes and your cheeks warm. you do this every time. acting like it’s your first time seeing the coach in a suit even though he wears one every semifinals press. but you can’t help it!

journalists throw questions without breath, firing rounds until the set time is up.

“photographers only, please.”

the room clears out fast. chairs scrape back, and laptops snap shut. you step forward instinctively, already lifting your camera. the players shift back into place. sukuna straightens, his expression resetting into something stoic. gojo cracks a joke under his breath that earns him a look. geto adjusts his sleeves, calm as ever.

toji moves standing just off to the side at first, arms crossed, smooth dress shirt crinkling over his taut muscles, and unforgiving across his shoulders.

the manager gestures. “let’s get the team all together first.”

cameras flash as the team pose, all in their uniform. you move easily getting their shots, unaware of the emerald eyes watching your every move.

coach toji noticed you the minute he stepped into the room. however, he remained composed, knowing how many eyes were on him. but now, his eyes sweep over your figure.

your grey dress pants hugging that right ass, and those hips. the tight dress shirt hugged your frame, with the top buttons undone allowing some of your cleavage to be revealed along with your necklace stack. business casual, but he’s sure half the team is looking at your tits. your pretty anklet catching the light as you move in your kitten heels.

“coach with sukuna,” the manager says.

toji steps forward.

you track him without thinking, framing the shot as he places a hand lightly at sukuna’s back, guiding him a half-step to the left. your shutter clicks, noticing how easily he steps into your frame, how naturally he fills it. his height just a hair taller than the hot headed captain, at least in your eyes.

“alright, another group photo,” the manager says.

toji turns, motioning the players in with two fingers. his eyes briefly catch yours making your eyes widen. the team clusters around their coach, heads bowed slightly, listening even though there’s nothing to hear. he speaks low anyway. you circle to the side, careful, capturing the curve of his shoulder, the way his jaw tightens when he focuses.

toji’s gaze lifts again, slow and deliberate, landing on you.

why does he keep doing that?!

it’s brief. just a glance that lingers a fraction longer, his eyes flick from your face to the camera in your hands and back again, like he’s remembering the photos he saw on your camera.

you feel heat blooming under your skin, pulse kicking hard enough to throw you off guard. you steady your hands, inhaling subtly, pretending you don’t feel the way the air shifts when he turns slightly…when he ends up closer than before, just at the edge of your frame.

“okay, we’re good,” the manager calls.

the team breaks, the players disperse, but toji stays put for a beat longer, adjusting his sleeve, posture relaxed again, unreadable.

you lower your camera only when it’s over, breath leaving you in a quiet rush you didn’t realize you were holding. you don’t see him glance at you when you step back to check your photos. you also don’t notice the small, satisfied curve of his mouth.

not until you’re feeling a gentle, firm, hand on your waist, and a low voice right against your ear, “say hi next time. you’re not a stranger anymore.”

your body immediately catches on fire, eyes snapping to the man like a magnet, heart slamming against your ribs as you watch him pull back, emerald eyes meeting yours.

“right, sweetheart?”

your face stings, as you nod quickly, heat pooling deep in your stomach, feeling his thumb caress your hip over your shirt. your lips part, mind dizzy as you glance as his strong forearms, he’s towering over you, slightly leaning down to speak to you in quiet whispers.

“I’ll see c’ya tomorrow, yeah,” he gives your waist a squeeze as he greets you with a kiss to your cheek like some gentleman. then he walks away. and if you weren’t a mess before, the casual glance he shoots over his shoulder has a third arrow piercing your heart.

you couldn’t contain it anymore. you were consumed by this man. every waking thought was spent daydreaming about him— his voice, his eyes, his hands, his demeanor. it was intoxicating.

all for you to show up in the lockerroom, the next day, hours before the match. the team is either dressed in their uniforms, or still shirtless, huddling around the white board as they prep for the game.

geto was the second to notice you, after gojo. both their eyes twinkling as they walk up to you. “they gave you the pass,” geto nods to the press badge around your neck.

you nod, glancing around the lockerroom. it felt tense, the aura suspenseful as the time ticks closer to when they walk onto the pitch.

“get your vip shots, but you better get my photo,” geto hushes in your ear.

“and mine!” gojo blurts, just as a certain coach is stepping out of the steam.

and you feel it. the towel wrapped low around his waist, skin still slick with water that traces unhurried paths down his sculpted torso. his hair is darker when it’s wet, heavier, droplets slide from it and disappear along the hard lines of his shoulders.

your eyes catch his muscles moving when he walks, hard mass, that shifts beneath skin without effort. you swallow thickly, body heating up, stomach fluttering as you catch the trail of dark coarse hair leading down from his navel, and disappearing beneath the towel. your eyes follow it to the bulge you know is under there. your cheeks sting at the thought of it.

you were utterly shameless. as if the two men standing beside aren’t still talking to you. but they immediately recognize the shift in your attitude and notice the steam leaving your face. gojo stifles a laugh, as geto sighs. you’re hopeless.

your eyes follow the scars you’ve never seen before. the old pale marks catch the light, etched across his side, his pecs, and back, proof of some life before this one. then he turns just enough and your heart stutters, and your panties soak.

ink blooms along his ribs where the towel dips. the tattoos are sharp and intimate, black against his skin that’s still flushed from the heat. you’ve photographed him dozens of times, from every angle, but you’ve never seen a peak of a tattoo.

“how wet are you right now?”

the comment snaps you back, glaring straight at the crystal ocean eyes narrowed in amusement.

“don’t talk to me like that,” you huff, “I’m working.” your attitude really is night and day when it comes to anyone else and toji.

gojo blushes, “I love mean girls.”

you roll your eyes.

“what’re you two doing? get the fuck over here,” sukuna snaps.

the team huddles as the fifteen minute timer starts. and that’s what you should be photographing, but instead you glance back. toji is now pulling up his pants, wet hair still dripping down the expanse of his back. his eyes catch yours for a second, gaze flicking to your camera, taunting…

his hand subtly cups his crotch, squeezing his girth just to present you with a size, one that has your lips parting with a shaky exhale, heart pounding as you glance between his emerald eyes and the way his forearms flex when he fixes the waistband of his boxers, pulling the material down just a bit that you catch more of the thick patch of hair at his base seeing a peak of it, before he’s fixing himself again.

and once he zips his pants up, glancing at the team as they huddle for some words from the captain before coach steps in, toji walks to you. just a few feet away, your eyes widen in surprise, heart stuttering as you watch him lean down to greet you with a kiss to your cheek, again!

he’s acting like you’re familiar even though this is just your third interaction with him…but maybe you are…

“thought I told you to say hi next time,” he says against your ear, pulling away.

your face heats up, “you were….changing.”

“so?”

you gulp, eyes flicking between his, heart pounding. he’s so close. your breath catches when his scent hits your nose, sandalwood, oak and something deeper under it. his stubble is darker than yesterday, rougher along his jaw, and you realize you’ve been staring for too long when the heat creeps up your neck.

he doesn’t move away though, he stands beside you, attention forward on sukuna as he speaks. focused, and so aware of you’re attention he has to hold back a smirk. and maybe he doesn’t mind messing with you, so his hand remains at your lower back, light, almost absent, but there.

your stomach flips, attention gone. you try to listen, you do. sukuna is talking about positioning, about discipline, about not getting sloppy or something and the room is locking in around you, everyone leaning in. these would be great photos—but all you can think about is how close he is.

how his hand hasn’t moved, every small shift makes your pulse jump. you keep your eyes forward. you don’t trust yourself to look at him again.

and that gives toji the opportunity to take you in. his pupils dilate just a fraction as his gaze travels down your body. his eyes zero in on the multiple open buttons of your tight dress shirt. you’re not even hiding yourself, and the sliver of skin that peaks between your pants and shirt doesn’t help.

his hand remains over your clothes, heat settling in his stomach when you take a deeper breath and your tits push up, and his eyes shamelessly look down your shirt from his towering height. fuck, he wants a look at that pretty ass too—

“coach! you’re up!” sukuna’s voice cuts through everything, snapping toji back. your gaze whips with it, catching him off guard as you wait for his next move like anything he touches is gold.

he controls himself, giving your waist that same squeeze before his hand leaves you just like that.

you push down the feeling that hits immediately, sharp and cold. but now you can finally breathe properly when he steps away. he moves past the players without rushing — a few of the boys let their eyes roam over you— toji adjusts his sleeve ignoring the feeling bubbling up when he notices them. and then he’s at the front.

he doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t need to now, but he usually gets to that point around the halfway mark. but this was the first time you’re seeing him speak in private…and when he speaks, they all listen—every single one of them.

gojo notices, gossip second nature to him. but the quick glance your way already has a grin tugging at his mouth before he nudges geto. geto follows his gaze, then sukuna does too, just briefly—and it’s obvious. painfully obvious. the way your expression softens, the way your attention doesn’t wavers. it’s written all over you.

“she’s actually really hot,” gojo comments.

though you wish you could stand there forever, the time finally comes for the team to head to the pitch, and that’s when the chaos begins.

not just on the field…but off it.

the press box is packed, bodies press against you shoulder to shoulder. the field below is relentless. everything fast, and aggressive, and loud enough that the noise bleeds through everything. you always forget how overstimulating and exhilarating semifinal matches are. but you remember the deal you made with the three stars.

your camera moves with them, tracking their plays, snapping multiple shots of them without hesitation, and then catching the moment when things go wrong...

sukuna gets taken down hard during a penalty shot—and there’s no whistle. no call.

you’re already shooting when the other team pushes, then scores, and the stadium erupts, but sukuna is on his feet, shouting. the goal should be discounted. the captain was known to be a hot head, but even you could see that the tackle he received was completely brushed off by the ref and he was right.

everyone watches as the team moves forward in defense of sukuna, but also holding him back. the other side meets them just as hard. the crowd shouts as they watch the players shove, yell, and slam into each other—and through it all you keep shooting. you catch toji too, voice cutting through the chaos as he orders his players to pull sukuna back.

the press talk amongst themselves as halftime quickly breaks up the argument. your feet quickly carry you out of the press box, towards the locker room.

“no locker room access.”

your jaw tightens immediately irritation flaring hot and sharp.

“I have a different badge,” you show the security guard your press ID. the one geto gave you.

“no press allowed, do i need to repeat myself?” the man snaps.

your irritation ticks at your side. fine. whatever. the second you step back, your mind is already running, already circling back to geto. you scoff under your breath, shaking your head as you pace along the corridor, camera swinging lightly at your side.

seriously? all that talk, all that stupid ass convincing, and for what? you were supposed to be there. that was the whole point! you roll your eyes, heat building the longer you think about it, every step feeding into this petty irritation instead of cooling it. were you overreacting —yes, but whatever—if he’s not holding up his end, then why should you?

by the time you make it back up, you’re done. done thinking about it, done entertaining it, done with their stupid deal.

the second half starts and you fall back into rhythm. camera up, focus sharp, and attention on only one thing now, the ball….

gojo and geto drift near the press box occasionally, clearly expecting something, acknowledgment, a photo, but you don’t even bat an eye. not a look, not a flicker, hell, they might as well not exist.

it’s almost satisfying. almost.

the final whistle blows and the stadium erupts, the first leg ended in a draw, preparing for next game to see who’ll continue. cameras around you go wild, capturing every second of it. the quiet annoyance of both teams, the noise in the crowd. but you don’t. you lower yours, expression flat, already turning away. it’s petty. a little unfair, but still, you walk.

“you’re not coming to the locker room?” gojo’s voice follows you, footsteps quick behind yours as you head in the opposite direction.

“why would i?” you snap, sharp, not even slowing. “am i even allowed,” there’s an obvious clip in your tone that has gojo confused.

“what’re you talking about?”

“deal’s off.”

huh?!????

gojo barely has time to react, before you’re walking away.

baffled and utterly confused, gojo makes his way back to the locker rooms. the energy is stiff, sukuna is grumbling under his breath about how embarrassing it was to end their first leg in a draw, geto is lounged beside his bag scrolling on his phone, and toji is in the corner talking to the managers. ugh, does no one care that their personal photographer isn’t taking photos of them???

they do care.

especially when the next paper comes out and the article is filled with photos taken by other people, not you!

“WHY THE FUCK DO I LOOK LIKE THAT!??” sukuna shouts, entire body fumming as they all sit outside during practice. sukuna is not the only one pissed, geto is practically seething because there isn’t even a single photo of him or gojo.

“what is this girl’s problem?! i thought you idiots made a deal with her?!” sukuna snaps, already in a foul mood, but now it’s worse.

geto licks his teeth, jaw ticking, “we did.”

“I told you guys she was pissed that she didn’t come in during halftime,” gojo throws, as if anyone was listening to him after their shitty match.

“so she throws a tantrum because she didn’t see coach’s dick during halftime?” sukuna clips.

“she looked super hot when she was all pissed though,” gojo throws, “she’d definitely go for me after she realizes how old coach is.”

“what’s wrong with you?” geto rolls his eyes, confused how gojo can talk about your looks when you screwed them over. even if he maybe also finds you attractive, it doesn’t negate your shitty attitude.

gojo throws his hands up in defensive, “I’m just calling dibs now.”

toji, just a few feet away, strides over after noticing the group no longer doing drills. “what’s the hold up!” he grunts, also in a shit mood because of the embarrassing match and then overheating what gojo had said.

“your stalker fucked us over,” geto snaps, eyes burning into the school paper. “she didn’t even get a pic of you.”

gojo’s eyes light up, “oh shit, yeah—she’s definitely over you!”

the paper then hits toji’s chest, his brows furrowing as he holds it up. his eyes glance over the sports section, and just as geto had stated, there wasn’t a single photo of him, unless you’re counting the wide shot of the field and you see him standing in the corner, but it definitely was a starch contrast from the streak you’d created.

“so?” toji tosses the paper like it’s nothing, “you guys playing for the cameras or because you want to win?!”

the men baffled, gasp and scoff. “we want to win!”

“then get off your fucking asses! I don’t have time to be doing this shit with you all!” he snaps aggressively, uncharacteristically pissed off, whether it’s because of the teams misdirected frustrations, or something else. either way, the school paper is long forgotten beside their bags and the team is splitting into practice teams.

it doesn’t matter…

it doesn’t matter that you made a deal with suguru geto and satoru gojo. and the captain pushed you to seal that deal with the information about coach — and they broke it. none of it matters! you still should’ve taken those photos, especially when you’re receiving an earful from your editor, and then sulking through the week of classes.

“what’s your problem,” your friend, shoko, cuts in, snapping you back to the campus day festival. you were once again sulking on the picnic bench, ice cream melting in the cup as you stare off.

“you’re gonna get annoyed…” you mutter, brows pinched in agony.

for most passing by, they immediately steered clear of you, not only did you carry a lethal rbf, your words of “agony” really translates to, you’ll rip someone’s head off and if looks could kill, everyone would be dead. it was quite funny, considering how you’re pretty sweet when you want to be, shoko quietly thinks. still, most would rather avoid you, thanking the heavens that you stay behind the camera so you don’t interact directly with people.

“don’t start,” shoko groans, piecing together the not so subtle mystery.

you frown, “i didn’t even say anything!” you whine even more, glaring at your ice cream. your pretty camera sits on the table beside you, collecting dust when you should be photographing this event. “I just screwed myself over,” your tongue laps at the dripping ice cream.

“agreed.”

your glare snaps to your friend, to which she brushes off with a shrug.

“you should’ve taken those photos,” she starts.

“I know…”

“then you would’ve made your editor happy,”

“I know…”

“and then you wouldn’t have to do this event.”

“I know.”

“and you’d have more weird pictures of coach toji.”

your heart drops. eyes snapping to shoko. “what?!”

shoko goes mute. suddenly realizing what she said. “nothing.”

“pictures?” you repeat, “I have weird pictures of the coach?? I don’t—why would you even say that??“ you’re not subtle at all. and shoko feels guilty at your horrible lying skills, but still…she confesses…

“you uploaded photos to your drive, when we’d study together,” she tries to hold in her laugh as heat crawls up your neck, “like more than once.”

you glance away, eyes flicking over your camera, “that’s it?”

shoko raises a brow. “yeah…what do you mean?”

you look back, “like that’s how you know, it’s not like you heard from someone else or anything?”

shoko shakes her head, “no, who else would know?”

your cheeks are burning at this point, and it was written all over your face now. the realization hit shoko in seconds. “no…” you’re silent. “does the coach know about your photos?”

you don’t want to make eye contact.

“how?!!”

even though it happened days ago, why is it now starting to feel even more embarrassing. maybe because of your cool headed friends reaction— “it was an accident.”

“how did he find out though?” shoko pushes.

you cringe, “well…” you swallow, “when I first spoke to him, remember…” shoko nods, “I let him use my camera because he was interested.” you pause, reliving the humiliation all over again. “then he kept swiping to see the pics, and just found them…” your hands slap your face, “that’s not bad!”

shoko is getting second hand embarrassment, “dude.”

“STOP IM GONNA KILL MYSELF!!” you cry out, humiliation seeping from your pores.

shoko is trying not to laugh, but it’s quite hard not too, especially when you’re groaning like that. “what was his reaction?”

“I obviously said it was an accident, and he was like whatever and seemed fine,” you explain quickly, trying to cool the situation. “It’s not bad!”

“okay okay!!” shoko laughs, trying to calm your reaction. however, shoko knows about your huge crush, what she didn’t know is about a deal her two friends made with you. heck, she didn’t even know that you interacted with them. not until those two men are standing directly behind you, sweaty and pissed. “what the hell—“

“I guess you don’t know how to keep your word,” geto spits, bag dropping aggressively on the bench beside you.

you jump, then, your eyes flick over your shoulder, immediately rolling them when you see them. you turn back to shoko.

geto snaps. “there wasn’t a single photo of us!”

“not my problem,” you scoff, attitude returning in seconds, shoko completely used to it. but she’s shocked that you know gojo and geto. “not like you guys even played well.”

gojo’s vein bulges, “we played fucking good, we didn’t lose!”

“you didn’t win,” you shrug, cold.

that’s when gojo and geto both glance up at shoko. shock crossing their expressions. “you know her?!” they both point down at you.

shoko raises a brow, “she’s my friend.”

“she’s a bitch—“ geto spits, just to receive the worst glare of his life from you, but he just rolls his eyes. “how the fuck do you know each other?”

“I just told you she’s my friend. you’re the ones that screwed her over.” shoko takes your side.

gojo gasps, “we didn’t screw her over! she screwed us over! you saw the paper this week—not a single highlight!”

you glance at shoko, ignoring the men behind you, “how do you know them?”

“we went to high school together,” shoko throws with a bored wave.

frustrated, geto straddles the bench facing you, his hand falls on top of your camera, immediately making you snap your attention to him.

“hey—“

“listen. our deal was that you get access and then we get photos, you didn’t finish your job,” he keeps a grip on your camera. shoko frowns.

“you guys didn’t give me access—i got like ten minutes before the match, then I couldn’t even go in during halftime where everyone was pissed, so what’s the point?” you snap, getting in his face.

“the point is that has nothing to do with me!” geto shouts, your eyes pierce his in two, but neither of you back down.

“it literally does though!”

“guys,” shoko and gojo attempt at intervening, but neither of you will back down. especially when geto won’t let go of your camera.

“let go,” you seethe, hand on the camera as geto flexes, grip strengthening around it.

your heart pounds against your chest, the hot spring sun beats over the four of you, sweat building on your neck while geto scoffs. “you better take those photos of us this week—“

“or what?” you glare, “are you seriously threatening me?” you were dripping with ego and confidence, except for the fact that your eyes kept darting to your camera, your poor, expensive, beautiful camera—

“is this your first time being threatened—“

“the fuck.”

the deep, intimidating voice breaks the argument in seconds. geto’s eyes widen as he feels the gravity taken away from him and being lifted off the seat. the collar of his jersey tightens around none other than toji’s brutal grip.

your eyes break into hearts, grasping your camera before it clatters back on the table, glancing up to see geto gripping his coach’s forearm.

“since when do you fucking shout at girls. you?!” toji barks, baffled. sukuna sure, gojo maybe, but geto?!

“I wasn’t fucking shouting, we were talking,” geto tsks, neck red from embarrassment.

toji shoves him back. geto slams on the bench. you hadn’t realized it but they all looked like they just finished practice, geto and gojo both still in practice uniforms and duffle bags, and coach toji wearing his usual black cargos, and that compression shirt that left nothing to the imagination.

geto scowls, rubbing his back in pain.

“you were shouting, that’s why i came over—“

“she was shouting at me!”

“so what!?”

the table is quiet. a few passerby’s glance over before quickly walking away. it isn’t a shock to know how unbelievably hot your face is right now. especially when coach toji continues his stern lecture to geto.

“you’re defending some girl that can’t keep her word, mind you,” geto mutters, flashing you a glare—his breath catches. you’re not even looking at him!! shoko stifles another laugh along with gojo, because you really were, truly, unbelievable.

how can you look at someone like that?!? like he’s some idol?! him! a musty ass college coach?!

but none of it mattered, not when toji’s attention shifts to you!!! a warm heat floods between your legs, as your lips part. then suddenly, you glance away…

“I actually did shout too…” you confess, taking accountability. “and kinda screwed them over.”

gojo, geto, and shoko, stare at you in shock.

toji sighs, like some grown ass man (which he is), his hand settles on his hip as the other scratches his hair like he’s surrounded by immature children and figuring out what the fuck to do with you all. so he decides to confess too…

“i told security not to allow any outsiders.”

your heart drops.

“including you.”

oh shit.

the three audience members immediately glance at you, and what none of them, not a single one, expected, is to suddenly see the your eyes tear up.

toji felt a sharp twist in his gut, eyes widening for a moment, before sighing. “it wasn’t personal.”

your throat feels dry, unable to look away until now. a tear hits your camera. “how is that not personal,” you whisper, bottom lip trembling.

shoko’s brows pinch in hurt, at least out of everyone, she knows how much and how long you’ve liked this man. and then sulking and now— she knows you’re absolutely shattered.

“I needed the team to focus, and you’re press,” he states like some cold fact, and that hurt even more.

your grip tightens on the camera. “but…” your not a stranger anymore…. but you can’t get the words out…your heart pounds loudly in your ears, the heat surrounding you felt suffocating, and your head was growing dizzier by the second. and the only thing spinning in your mind was how fucking embarrassing this is.

“don’t be upset.”

you manage a small nod, though another tear falls on the camera, and your body freezes. “how can i not be upset?” your small voice catches toji off guard.

you’re standing up, eyes hot with tears, walking past the esteemed coach.

“wait,” he catches your wrist, “if you have something to say don’t just run away.”

you’re fuming, your pretty chest rises and falls, the disappointment turning into built up anger, “I don’t have anything to say right now, and it’s stupid—“ your hand twists in his grip. “let go.”

he does.

you’re practically heaving, tempted to turn away, especially when the dryness in your throat gets worse. the stinging behind your eyes burns like hell as you try to rip your gaze away from the towering man. you really are stupid…

toji wets his lip, head tilting as if disinterested, but the cooling in his chest says otherwise. why does he have a weak spot for women?

“we can talk.”

his words hang in the air. a silent, open invitation for her. it’s a clear sign of his guilt for making this cute college girl cry. he was too blunt, forgetting she isn’t one of his boys.

your hand comes up to the bridge of your nose, quietly recentering yourself as this older coach watches. your shoulders rise with a deep exhale, then inhale.

pull yourself together…

you nod. cute.

you swallow the embarrassing lump in your throat, clearing your throat. “can we talk while walking…I have to work,” your usual clipped tone used for everyone except him, comes out, but he can hear the slight shakiness.

“sure.”

gojo, geto, and shoko are left in utter shock. it’s not until you and toji completely disappear into the crowd, do they slowly exchange looks.

“what…”

“the fuck,” geto finishes shoko’s sentence.

gojo stares baffled, “did we just set them up?!”

geto’s brow jumps up, “why is he always saving her like some knight?? and he was the one that screwed us all over!!”

gojo shakes his head in agreement, “nah for real, what the hell, blaming us but it’s all him.”

geto slouches back in the picnic table, rolling his eyes. “still,” he tsks, “she didn’t have to be so bitchy and not take our pictures. isn’t it her fucking job—“

“hey!”

“ow!” geto feels a slap upside the head from brunette, her eyes harsh. “what the hell!”

“don’t call girls bitches what’s wrong with you?!” shoko huffs, baffled by geto’s attitude.

gojo snickers beside the man, “he’s been like this since he met her.”

“I haven’t,” he grits, rolling his eyes at the thought of you. “she’s just a—she just gets on my nerves.”

“really because she reminds me of you,” shoko cuts him off. geto’s eyes widen, as gojo breaks into a loud laugh.

“WHAT?!”

“oh god BAHAHA she does!” gojo’s obnoxious laugh sounds like knives stabbing his ears.

shoko hums, “she has that rbf look, intimidating, very blunt, but also so cute with her friends.”

“cute?” geto frowns.

gojo smiles, “it comes out when you’re hanging out with ussss.” gojo and shoko dramatically strike a cute pose. geto tsks.

the campus was packed with students and faculty roaming to booths and small events. it was the university’s 102nd anniversary, and as memorable as it is for the students to enjoy the activities during this nice spring day, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a shit.

not only did your editor scream at you all week, still pissed about the shit photos you took during the match, he also threatened removal if you didn’t take good photos during this event. and now, after sulking with shoko, then procrastinating some more, you decided you’d be able to take such fanatic pictures while your idol and crush trails beside you….sure.

toji lets out another sigh, hands in his pockets as he stands to your left watching you snap some shots of laughing students beside a booth.

“it’s not a big deal,” you mutter, behind the camera. toji notices the twitch in your fingers. “I overreacted, so it’s whatever.”

toji wets his lip, “sukuna and a couple others jus’ get jumpy with cameras.”

you hum, looking at the photos you just took. “I understand.”

“I didn’t know about this deal you did with geto,” toji admits, hand instinctively coming to your waist and guiding you away from some unaware boys shouting and laughing. your cheeks flush, stepping away from his hand. toji notices. “we didn’t have a good game anyways.”

“I know, so it whatever. not a big deal,” you sigh, heat crawling up your neck. this is so embarrassing, so embarrassing! ugh you really don’t know how to keep a cool head at all when it comes to this coach. you overreacted during the match, then blamed geto for screwing you over, then almost cried because the coach locked you out on purpose, and now—

“I feel bad.”

your heart stops.

toji glances at your manicured nails holding your camera, your cute necklaces dangling on your exposed chest, cleavage glistening from the heat. but then his eyes flick up, and you’re staring at him like he’s holding the entire world.

“I didn’t mean to make you upset,” his voice is softer, gentler, nothing like how you’ve heard him for months, shouting, harsh. your stomach heats up, face stinging.

his hand, unexpectedly, comes up, feeling your hair between his fingers. “you work hard, and all your pictures come out so nice…” the compliment hits your heart. “but I couldn’t risk the boys getting distracted.”

your face suddenly twists, lips pursing and jutting out just a bit, your brows pinch. your dewy makeup makes you look like a fucking doll, he thinks. “I was jus’ gonna take photos in the corner, not interview them,” you reply harshly.

“you saw how they are when they talk to you,” he cuts in. your brow quirks, noticing his sharp inhale. “sweetheart, you’re hot.”

your face bursts into flames, pupils turning to literal swirls, and brain getting fried in seconds.

what?!

your reaction was priceless. toji controls his smirk, thumb brushing your adorable cheek, glancing at your glossy lips then your eyes. “I know you’re a professional, but most of those boys aren’t, y’ understand?”

you nod, cheeks sizzling, you’re surprised his thumb isn’t burning.

“so you see why I couldn’t allow you in the locker room then, and i won’t next time,” he watches you nod again. god, you’re fucking precious.

then, your tongue wets your bottom lip before speaking… “are they the only ones that would’ve been distracted?”

shit. can a grown man really pop a boner that fast?

toji’s chest heats up, glancing between your pretty eyes filled with hope. this isn’t the first time a younger girl has crushed on him, and it also isn’t the first time he’s nice to one. but what really got him, is the way you’re maintaining eye contact, almost afraid to look away, and you’re holding your ground against him.

“no,” he admits, “they’re not the only ones.”

oh. your lips curve into a smile toji hasn’t seen before, and his hand flexes in response. you look like you’re going to eat him alive right there, and he’d let you, no questions asked—

“that’s good to hear,” you pull away. you touch your heated cheek with the back of your hand, wetting your lip as you glance over the coach’s flushed face. “your cheeks are red.”

what?! his eyes bulge, catching you off guard as you break into a loud laugh.

“tch,” he looks away, his own hand rubbing down his face. it really is burning out here. but even so, his emerald eyes look through his fingers at this pretty college girl laughing at him and he doesn’t know why his chest warms at the sight.

“I can buy you ice cream. I feel bad now that you had to explain yourself when I was just being the unprofessional one,” you start, already leading him to the nearest ice cream booth.

your camera hangs over your shoulder as you point to your favorite flavor than glance up at him, he points at the cookies n cream. “oh! I love cookies n cream,” you say, reaching for your phone to pay.

ding.

your eyes widen as toji pays instead.

“wha—it was supposed to be my treat, man,” you huff, accepting the cone he gives you, hand on your lower back as he guides you away from the booth. neither of you batting an eye to the multiple people gawking at the renowned coach of their soccer team, walking around with the hot, rude, student photographer.

“as if I’d let you pay,” he snorts.

your brows pinch as you take a lick of your ice cream, the cool sensation leveling your body temperature. your eyes narrow at him as he enjoys his ice cream, grateful to have something that cools the heat building up under his skin. “so not fair,” you mutter.

“how come?”

the two of you walk across the quad, sun still beating down.

“I wanted to use it as an apology,” you say, “I said that.”

“you don’t need to apologize,” he shrugs, casual, unbothered. you huff again. this time toji smiles, scar twitching up. “you can pay next time.”

your heart skips a beat, stomach doing a stupid flip.

“….next time.”

toji catches the smile behind your cone, his eyes trailing over the ice cream coating your tongue, your pretty hand wrapped around the waffle as your bracelets clank around your wrists.

“there’s other things you need to apologize for,” he coolly says, finding a bench and dropping his weight, eyeing you as you sit close beside him. unashamed.

your brow quirks, eyes narrowing, full body facing him, “what other things?”

toji shrugs, “we can talk about it next time.”

“but I can’t just be left in suspense, that’ll give me anxiety?!”

toji snorts, loud. his big tongue is finishing the ice cream so quick he’s already eating the cone. “don’t be anxious,” he says with his mouth full.

you tsk, rolling your eyes, and you don’t notice the twinkle in the older coach’s eyes. he can definitely see geto’s point about your attitude, but if he leans over—

your eyes go wide. stomach flipping.

he takes a bold bite of your ice cream, emerald eyes shut, and thick lashes kissing his flushed cheeks. your heart feels like it’ll break from your ribs, then, he opens his eyes. he doesn’t pull away yet, instead his tongue cleans his lips, humming in low delight. the heat around you wasn’t helping your own body temperature as it skyrockets.

“taste’s sweeter than mine,” his voice his huskier than before, catching you by surprise, and the heat pools between your legs.

“i—“ you can’t even form words! your eyes won’t tear away from his lips, and your chest is moving erratically because he’s so close.

“do you want a taste of mine. I took a bite without asking yo—“

his words cut the minute your lips press against his.

shock prevents him from reacting, eyes going wide. you gave in so quick, sure he was teasing, but still. he could feel the certainty in your kiss, along with the warmth, and anxiety. after a long ten seconds you pull away—

you pant against his lips, chest rising and falling, brain scrambled. “i jus’…” your heart is beating loudly in your ears. mind trying to keep up with what your body just did. you kissed him. you kissed the coach. the one you’ve been idolizing and photographing for months—

“we can do it again.” his free hand tilts your chin up, lips hovering over yours again. his breath is warm. “kiss me.”

you do.

this time you’re a little bolder. your lips connect with his, soft again, sucking his bottom lip, skillfully. slowly. he brushes your jaw with his thumb, humming in delight just like he did with the ice cream. but the sound goes straight to your core. completely unbothered by the rowdiness of the uni day activities around you. your free hand rests on his thigh, leaning more into the kiss.

“open,” you murmur against his lips. you can feel the the shit-eating smirk that breaks his face, groaning just low enough to make the heat furiously spread under your skin.

then, his lips part.

his tongue immediately connects with yours. caressing the wet muscle. he tastes the ice cream, delving a little more. it was just so easy taking control, and your little whines are too sweet for him to stop. his jaw opens wider, taking the lead as you follow. his hand cups the side of your face, unexpectedly possessive, ignoring the alarms sounding off in his head.

you had a crush, you’re fucking adorable, and you kissed him. plus, you make these cute sounds when he shoves his tongue against yours, thumb pressing into your cheek. how could he resist?

your grip against his thigh tightens, his back is pressed fully against the bench, while you were practically leaning over him, trying to swallow him whole.

“breathe,” he mutters, lips hovering close, waiting for you to inhale. his scar quirks up, you’re so cute. his thumb brushes your cheekbone again, eyes glancing between your fluttering lashes. “if we keep kissing, I’ll have a problem.”

your face burns, eyes darting down to the tent pressing up near your hand. and unlike toji, you let your second ice cream of the day melt and fall to the ground. you were a mess. you carefully lean back in your seat, the sudden space between you allowing you to take another deep breath. being near coach toji is intoxicating. it’s not that you didn’t feel like yourself, but you definitely throw all common sense out the door when he’s in front of you.

“are you staying to see the booths and stuff?” you clear your throat, trying to ease your erratic heartbeat.

toji finds it cute. his hand once cupping your face, slides down to brush the hair off your shoulder, fingers brushing the multiple earrings that dangle from your piercings. you’re much more stylish than he is…your accessories, the cute tank top that hugs your breasts, and embroidered low rise flared jeans.

“nah, gotta drive back home so i can take my son to practice.”

toji eases, not a single thing can bother him. it was a routine, the subtle throw away line about having a son that scared off many young women, or had them wanting a one night stand with the older dilf. so his eyes flick over you, the second he finishes his sentence.

your freeze.

your blood runs cold, eyes flicking down to his ring finger.

even if you’re looking, you know he isn’t married. you know. you’ve been photographing him for months, and not a single time have you ever seen him daunt a ring on his finger.

“there’s no one waiting for him at home?” you question, wetting your lip.

toji’s fingers slide from your earrings to the dried ice cream on your chin. “nah, if I’m late he’ll go to his friends house.”

you nod, anxiety slowly dissipating. “how old is he?”

“ten.”

your eyes light up, “my nephew is just a year older, that’s when they get really fun to hang out with,” your voice is so light and sweet, toji has to shove down the weird somersault his stomach does.

“really?” toji is not convinced. “all my son does is give me attitude and bully everything i do.”

you laugh, waving your hand, “yeah they get super opinionated, but it’s funny—trust trust he’s just doing it because you’re an easy target.”

“I’m an easy target.”

you nod, waving a hand again, “your his dad, my brothers and i were the same to our parents.”

brothers? toji doesn’t comment how that peaks his interest, but he naturally asks, “how many siblings do you have?”

“three older brothers,” you nod.

damn….toji hums, that explains your attitude and how you can handle geto’s bitchy moods. what also quietly settles in his mind is how your oldest brother would probably be around his age, considering your nephew is a year older than megumi. is that why you’re easily holding a conversation this long…maybe the age gap isn’t that big then…

“they were so freakin bossy, definitely why i pushed to dorm away from them,” you huff, toji zoning back into your rambling. it was cute watching you talk mindlessly, hands waving making your bracelets clank against each other. the sweat glistened across your skin, making you look eternal, which is amusing since you’re just talking.

but still, toji is the one to lean up this time. his hand settling on your waist as a anchor and he presses a firm kiss to your warm cheek.

your glossy lips part in shock, heart stuttering again. unbothered, toji casually stands up, towering over you as his hand gently settles atop your head. “i have’ta get going, but I’ll see you next week for the match. I’ll also let em know you can come in before and after the game, but not during halftime. okay?”

you nod.

“I’ll see ya’ sweetheart.”

and with a wink, he solidifies the fourth arrow straight through your heart.

—

it was very likely that your entire week looked like sunshine and rainbows, all because you had a full on make out session with your idol on a park bench. you couldn’t bring yourself to care much about anything else—well except for your job. you had to scramble to get photos after toji left, afraid of staying on your editor’s bad side.

luckily you pulled through, and convinced him to keep you on for the semi final match this coming weekend.

which leads you to your current blissful state. watching toji speak to the team in the locker rooms. unlike last time, you grabbed different shots, smiling every time toji glanced at the camera, but frowning any time any of the other boys looked.

“surprise surprise, couldn’t stay away too long,” gojo coo’s after the team breaks to finish changing.

“don’t bother me or I won’t take photos of you,” you throw, eyes flicking up at the tall man.

gojo pouts, “but I’m just talking to you,” his words drag.

geto is scowling a few feet away, jaw tightening and relaxing, until he finally comes up to you. your attitude shifts, eyes narrowing up. geto holds eye contact, chest rising with a subtle inhale. but once he exhales, his shoulders ease, and his eyes close, the fakest smile you’ve ever seen graces his naturally attractive features.

“I’m looking forward to seeing your photos after the game.”

your lips purse, brow quirking. “yeah…”

geto leaves. shortly after, the team gets called out. gojo utters the same line geto had just said, but much more cheerfully, all while toji walks up to you. brow furrowing at the two athletes as they walk towards the exit.

“they still bothering you?”

your eyes light up the moment you see him. “s’ fine,” your pretty lips pull into an easy smile, unexpectedly warming the coach’s heart. is it that easy to smile because of him?

“I’ll tell them to fuck off again,” his voice is naturally deep, hand subconsciously roaming up to the strap of your camera.

you smile, “okay.”

god, you’re really cute. his hand cups your cheek, leaning down and easily locking lips with you.

you’re immediately caught off guard, but his hand is so firm on your cheek, you just melt. your lashes flutter shut, leaning in more. he’s so big and tall. your cheeks sting, humming against his lips, trying to fight off the butterflies in your stomach. but it’s worse when he pulls away, and your heart leaps into your throat as he brushes his rough thumb against your lip, dragging the spit across the plumpness.

“I’ll c’ya after.” he winks.

you barely feel your feet when you step back out onto the field. your camera in hand, strap tight around your neck, everything exactly where it should be, and still, your entire body is giddy.

toji….toji toji toji—

you press your lips together, trying to fight it down, but it’s useless. your mouth keeps twitching, threatening to break into a smile and you can’t help it! he kissed you. twice now! like it was nothing—

you snap a shot.

sukuna’s first goal. the team and stadium erupts, and you’re already capturing it, body moving before your thoughts can catch up. you don’t need your editor screaming at you this time, so you shift angles, crouch lower, shoot through. geto lines up for a penalty shot, and you catch that too. the strike, the follow-through, and the way the net snaps back as the ball hits. you don’t miss a second of it.

but…inevitably…your lens drifts…to him. you can’t help it!

toji’s on the sidelines, where he always is. his sleeves are pushed up again, pacing, shouting, running a hand through his hair. you catch the flex of his arm, his biceps bulge and you feel heat pooling between your legs. you catch the drag of his palm across his broad huge chest, the set of his jaw when gojo almost tackles into another player.

you shouldn’t be taking this many photos of him. you know that, but you take them anyway. your chest feels tight with every picture, cheeks still burning, and your smile impossible to get rid of.

halftime comes and goes, and you don’t even try to get into the locker room this time. instead, you linger with the rest of the press, nodding along to conversations, camera hanging loose in your hands. you don’t care. not really. not when your mind keeps replaying it—his hand on your face, the way he looked at you after, the wink.

the second half starts and you’re back in position immediately. getting more action shots of the players—ugh but you keep stealing other moments too…small unnecessary ones. his biceps when he folds his arms. the scratch of his chest. the tilt of his head as he watches the field.

your thoughts don’t stop. why did he kiss you? why did he kiss you again? what is that supposed to mean? is he going to kiss you again??

the spiral doesn’t fully come to an end until the pitch breaks out into celebration. the team is off to the finals!

managers and the rest of the team flood the pitch as the stadium breaks out. you do your best to get the best shots of the team together, and you stay after to capture them talking to journalists, and press. unaware of the coach that slips away.

you follow the team and a couple managers back to the locker room as they continue celebrating. you can’t help the smile about how happy they are, they played well.

“how was the match?” geto corners you quickly.

“good,” you nod casually, fixing your flash. “you guys played really well.”

geto’s brow quirks. that’s nice….his lips purse. “I scored.” he mutters, glancing at the multiple piercings on your ear as you tuck a hair behind it.

“yeah, it was a nice shot,” your eyes flick over your camera before glancing up to meet his eyes, testing, “you wanna see?”

his eyes narrow again, “no.”

he’s quick to ignore your eye roll, as he points over his shoulder. “coach is calling for you.”

you can’t control the way your head whips to geto, then following the direction he’s pointing at. you don’t hesitate, your legs carry you across the locker room, and into the steamed shower room.

your heart hammers against your chest, putting the lens cap back on your camera and carefully sliding it off your shoulder, afraid to step further in until you put it back in your bag.

a single curtain is closed. shower running.

“coach toji?” your voice echos.

there a beat of silence, then…

“that you, sweetheart?”

you flush. controlling the smile that breaks your face as you hum, “yeah.”

the shower is still running, steam collecting in the room. your heart is beating erratically, you barely register anything aside from the fact that coach toji is definitely one hundred percent fully nude just a few feet away. his clothes are laid on his duffle on the bench beside the door.

“sweetheart?”

you jump. “yeah?”

“you gonna come in?”

you blink. again, then once more. then— “WHAT?”

your screech bounces off the tile floors, making you shrink at how loud you are. but it was a normal reaction. he just asked you if you wanted to come in? how else would you react—

“leave your things by my bag,” he doesn’t even react, like what he’s saying is the most casual kind of flirting. the kissing was one thing, but this…

your camera is zipped back in your bag, and in seconds, you’re peeling your panties off standing completely naked in the middle of a shower room. goosebumps break out, necklace and bracelets still on as your nipples harden.

what’re you doing, seriously?

one, this is highly unprofessional (whatever). two, you haven’t even gone a date with this man. and three, w-why would he even ask you to come in?!?! does he like you?! he does—he has too—

your bare feet pad against the steamed tiles until you reach the curtains. your hands won’t stop shaking, face burning hot, and lips parting as you let out a shaky exhale. then, you slowly pull back the curtains—

“come in before someone sees you,” is what you hear just as you’re being dragged into the steaming water, curtain pulled closed behind you.

the steam wraps around your skin instantly, thick and suffocating. your pretty nipples perk up in seconds. and standing right in front of you is the 6’5 two hundred pound man. water cascading down his body in slow, steady streams. you don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing until your chest tightens, and your hands hover close to his forearm.

you’re so close.

your gaze is eye level with his broad solid chest, rising and falling slow and controlled like none of this affects him. like you standing in front of him naked is something he expected. but your too dazed to care. especially when you follow the droplets sliding over his muscles, catching the shallow lines as you continue going lower, and lower. the heat pools more obviously between your legs as you see the thick patch of dark coarse hair…then you see it.

your face burns hotter, stomach flipping hard making you even dizzier.

his cock twitches under your gaze. your knees almost buckle just at the sight. it’s huge. you have to suppress a whine, lashes fluttering as you feel a strong hand cup your chin.

“say hi first,” his voice is unbelievably deep, tearing your gaze away from the monster between his legs. his dark forest green eyes sink into you.

“hi.”

shit. he bites back a groan, eyes trailing down your naked body. nipples already perky and standing all pretty for him. his hand comes up, cupping the side of your face as he leans down, lips colliding with yours.

you whine immediately. your lips move together, tongues colliding as your hands slide up his muscular chest, feeling the deep ridges of his abs as he holds the side of your face, dominating the kiss.

it was overwhelming, the shower box, his body heat, his cock touching your thigh, it was all making you dizzy in the best ways possible. he pulls away, letting you catch your breath, but he stays close, brushing his lips over yours like it’s not enough. because it isn’t.

“did anyone see you come in?” he husks, hand still cradling your face as the other brushes your naked waist, pulling you closer. your skin is so soft under his palm.

“no,” you shake your head adorably, tongue poking out to wet your lip, “I don’t think so.”

the older coach hums, his hands freely roaming your side as he nudges your nose with his. “good,” is all he adds before he resumes the heated make out.

your tongues collide and caress, jaw falling slack as you moan a little louder when he grips your ass. groaning into your lip when your arms lock around his shoulders, wet chest pressing against his. you were such a sweet tasting girl.

his hand nudges your thigh. “jump.”

you gasp when he easily picks you up, back already pressed against the tiled wall. the hot water cascades down his back as he continues kissing you. “were you mad at me?”

you pull away, breath hot as you glance at his features. he’s so handsome, your hand cups his face, pushing his drenched raven hair back. “why would I mad?”

“because I kept ya out during halftime.”

you shake your head, lips curving as you trace his wet eyebrows, chest rising and falling. “no,” you drawl, wetting your glossy lips again. “I was jus’ confused about how much you kiss me.”

his scar tugs up, biting back a smirk threatening to break free. “you kissed me first.”

“that one time.”

“you started it,” he leans close, lips brushing yours, “so you can’t blame me for getting hooked.” his eyes are lidded. “it’s really hard for me to break bad habits.”

this time you kiss me.

you’re so unbelievably hungry for this man’s affection, you can ignore all the blaring red light going off in your head. he’s so hot, he’s so big, and he’s so fucking sexy! your mind has been completely and utterly fried and you don’t care.

“fuck, you’re dripping,” toji husks, his finger collecting your juices from your pussy, groaning at how turned you are. “kissing me makes ya feel that good? your cunt always dripping like a fountain?”

“yeah-aah—“ your lips part as he shoves a finger inside. he groans against you, chuckling at the choked whines leaving your pretty lips, your nails dig crescents along his shoulder.

his lips trail down your neck, tongue flattening against the wet skin and licking until you squirm a cute whimper. his smirk is impossible to hold back. he sucks a dark bruise as another finger pushes in your fluttering hole.

“c-coach—“ you gasp, lips so wet from spit. you try to look down at his fingers pistoning inside you. every muscle on his body flexing, keeping you up like you weigh nothing, while fingering you against the little shower wall. “fu-fuck, I’m gonna—cu-uhm—“

it really is too much for your obsessed brain.

coach toji’s fingers are inside you. he’s kissing you like he’s hasn’t pleasured a woman in years. and his groans are going straight to your pussy—

“I wan’…coach—“ your whine drawls a little longer, thighs shaking, and arms locking around him, head falling to neck.

the older man chuckles close to your ear, voice deep and husky as you fall apart, in his arms. hugging him like he’s your savior. his fingers curl, slowly pumping you through your orgasm. “that was quick. my baby hasn’t cum in awhile?” he says as a matter of a fact, but you just hug him closer, lips pulling away to trail kisses up his neck. your fingers coarse through the back of his head, grasping them as you kiss the corner of his mouth.

“it’s b’cause of you, toji.” you kiss his scar, panting as he pulls his fingers out and lifts you up suddenly, hooking his arm under your knee.

“you want a good fucking princess?”

you nod frantically, cheeks dewy and stinging, as you glance over his face then his chest, then you feel his cock between your slick folds.

“it’s a big stretch,” he mutters against your lips. “you saw.”

you nod, nervous stirring at the way he’s preparing you. but you don’t break away. you doubt you physically can, when your mind is only screaming his name over and over.

“I can take it, coach,” you nod, determined.

“you’re so fucking cute,” he snorts, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he kisses your lips in quiet reassurance. “ever take a cock this big?”

you shake your head, water droplets falling from the tips of your hair. your pretty necklaces still wrapped around your neck, all wet and glistening between your perky breasts.

“it’ll hurt,” he strokes himself underneath you, thumb running over his tip multiple times before lining it with your pretty clit and teasing you. “then you’re gonna cry.” you gulp, nodding along. “then you’re gonna tell me to stop—“

“I won’t!”

he snorts. “it’s okay if you do.”

you shake your head, “I won’t I’ll be okay. okay coach? I can take it, I wan’ you inside me. please.”

the tug to his heart is immediate. how can it not be when this cute hot girl is begging him to fuck her? but he can’t even formulate this emotional string that’s tying him to you. the only physical response coming out is this fucking erection that feels like the most painful shit he’s experienced, twitching after he first spoke to you and then again when you kissed him. surely it’s disgusting….an older man like him getting that quickly turned on…

but maybe it was the way he’s only felt this tug in his chest one other time in his life, and even if it didn’t end the way he wanted, he never regretted pursuing his baby mama.

so he’s all in right now.

“deep breath, sweetheart.”

you inhale sharply, just as toji pushes his engorged tip past the tight rim of your pussy, and you suddenly clench—

“shit!—“

your eyes widen, “I don’t feel anything,” you mutter, glancing down to see his ears burning a deep shade of red.

“your cunt squeezed me too early and shoved me out,” he wets his lips, as he crashes his lips against you. “relax, baby,” he husks.

you whine against his dominating mouth, lower body relaxing as he lines up again and the moment you ease up, he snaps his hips in.

“angh!—“

your jaw slacks, and he continues kissing, groaning at the unbelievable tightness that’s squeezing every corner of his tip.

“Mmm so warm, took me in good,” he groans, rocking his hips and grabbing a handle of your ass. “you’re gonna make me feel good?”

you nod, lips connecting with his, it’s messy, teeth clashing, spit mixing.

toji’s guttural groan echos through the shower, bouncing off the tiles as he rocks his hips, going in inch by inch, until he’s finally shoving his entire length deep inside your cunt with one mean thrust.

“fhuck—“ he chokes, jaw slacking as you clamp around him again. “full?”

you nod, brain scrambled as you glance at your tummy, cheeks stinging at the obvious bulge. “keep going,” you pant, securing yourself better as he grunts, pulling out and snapping his hips back.

it was mind numbing, toji holding you up with his strong arms hooked under your knees, hands gripping each ass cheek as he ruts into you like a beast in heat. the squelch and clapping was deafening as it bounced off the walls, the steam enveloping you closer as your whines flow right into his ear.

“nghhh—gettin’ me worked up,” thrust. “when you squeeze me,” thrust. “with this tight.” thrust. “fucking.” thrust. “cunt!”

his massive cock is stretching you in ways you never could’ve imagined. his blunt tip slams into your cervix with every thrust. your thighs shake, eyes filling with unshed tears as your nails dig into his tough skin.

“m’ s-sorry—haah ah coa—ahh! it feels s’ fuhh—fuh’me ple-easee—ahh!” your pretty lips were so glossy, drool coming down as water droplets fall from your pretty breasts with each vicious slam of his hips.

he was unforgiving. and his laugh like groan didn’t help your pussy from fluttering and tightening around his chubby cock. you can feel every thick pulsing vein and ridge. it was numbing your brain to mush. your fingers curled into his hair, tugging as he gives your ass a mean, violent, spank!

“angh!” your eyes bulge, a wave of heat crashing into you.

toji laughs, gripping your ass as he quickens his pace. “admit it,” he husks, voice condensing, and eyes dark with lust. “this is what ya’ wanted.” you’re falling apart around his cock, and he’s not slowing down, even as the tears finally break, making you look even more irresistible. you’re gasping like you can’t breathe. “you always wanted the coach to fuck you. taking those dirty photos of my bulge—nghh!” thrust. “imagining how big my dick is.” thrust. “how big is it baby, tell me.” thrust!

you were fucked dumb.

your face is flushed, eyes glossed over, as you whine like a full blown slut. and even with your two orgasms in a matter of minutes. your mind was still screaming one thing: toji.

“c’mon baby, I know you’re still with me,” he snorts, ears red, and body flushed with sweat as he feels his climax edge closer. “tell me—fuck—how big is it?”

your stupid brain catches his words, and your fingers dig into his neck as you gasp and moan, the stimulation of his massive cock slamming into you was ruining you. mentally and physically. it was humiliating. but still…

“haah—fuh its’ it’s so big— i wan’ you to cum in me! please —wan’ your cum so bad, wanna feel your big fat cock cum inside my pussy toji—ahh!”

anothet sharp spank takes your breath away.

toji is at a loss.

his grunts grew louder and thrusts sloppier, until finally, he gave you one final thrust, and stilled. his ass tightens, body pressing you into the tiled walls, face buried in your neck, and teeth sinking into your shoulder. toji completely unravels in the shower, holding up a pretty college girl that whines so beautifully in his ear he thinks he’d never cum this hard again, but sure enough—

your adorable whine has him rutting shallow thrusts into your pussy, like a fucking dog. his cum pumping out as he continued stuffing you full, purposely milking out ever drop as his dark wet pubes rubbed against your puffy clit.

you both catch your breath. your lashes wet from tears, as the water from the shower head fills the silence. after a moment, toji pulls away from your neck, his lidded eyes, hypnotizing as he stares up at yours.

you don’t know why you suddenly feel shy. your cheeks burn as the emerald irises bore into your own. lips parting, and a gentle hand coming up to his cheek. you brush back the raven hair flattening against his features, smiling softly when his full face comes into view.

and he could’ve sworn you looked like an actual angel at this moment.

your eyes twinkled above, face illuminating in the dark shower, and body glistening like you’re an eternal being.

“toji…” the soft call has his heart doing something it hasn’t done in years. and that has his soft cock twitching inside you. “I’m,” you lean closer, arms wrapping around his shoulder, lips hovering near his, breasts smushed against his chest. your confidence comes back the moment you feel the man lean closer..but you continue. “I hope you don’t think…i wanted to have sex…just because i thought your dick was really big.”

toji blinks.

then he does the worst thing ever.

he laughs.

your cheeks sting, watching his head fall back in loud laughter. your hand flys to your face, embarrassed. “I’m being serious!” you yell.

toji laughs louder, body shaking as he lifts you up, his cock slipping out. he carefully sets your shaky feet down on the wet tile. the height difference returns, making you even more ticked off, your little attitude was oozing out, and his slick cock couldn’t help but twitch against his thigh at your pouting.

god, you’re fucking hot.

he brings your attention back to him. hands cupping your face, tilting your head to look up at him. your brows are pinched together, and lips pulled in a subtle scowl.

toji smirks. “don’t worry, I know you also took pictures of my face.”

you flush, rolling your eyes. “those were accidents.”

“so you just wanted pictures of my dick?”

your eyes widen, “no! i told you they were all accidents.”

toji clicks his tongue, leaning down to your level, making your tummy flip “you’re fucking cute, but let’s not lie to adults.”

“I’m an adult though,” you raise a brow, pushing back, and god if that wasn’t the hottest thing ever.

but still, toji’s easygoing smile remains on his playful lips, “it’s embarrassing. i understand,” he softens the blow as your face heats. it was humiliating when he found those pictures, “taking photos of the coach like that. but now’s the time to take some accountability.”

you lick your teeth, eyes boring into him, narrowing. but it’s toji. toji is asking. and you can’t hold back any longer…

you exhale, glancing away, even though he’s still cupping your face. “yeah, obviously I took those photos on purpose,” your eyes meet. “happy?”

water is still running down his shoulders as he keeps your face tucked carefully in his hands like you’re something precious despite the grin threatening to split across his face again.

but then toji smirks. “ecstatic.”

your eyes narrow immediately, “you’re so annoying.”

he huffs another laugh under his breath, quieter this time, thumbs brushing over your heated cheeks. standing this close to him is ridiculous now that the adrenaline’s settling. he’s huge. his broad chest still damp against yours, muscles flexing every time he shifts, towering over you while you stand there completely naked except for the necklaces you’re wearing. the little gold chains glisten under the shower head, delicate against flushed skin, and toji’s eyes flick down to them for a second before returning to your face.

that look in his eyes makes your stomach tighten all over again. he knows he’s not trying to be mocking, or casual like before. it’s fondness.

“those shots were real creative, sweetheart,” he says, voice rougher now. “nice and close too.”

you groan, immediately trying to shove his chest, but he barely moves. “oh my god, can you let it go already?”

“can’t,” he answers easily. “been thinkin’ about it for weeks.”

your face burns hotter. weeks?!

toji watches it happen in real time, watches the attitude crack just enough for embarrassment to slip through, again. and it does something terrible to him. you’re sharp with everyone else—cool, hard to impress. he’s seen it. seen the way you brush off gojo and geto without a second thought. but with him? you melt.

even now, glaring up at him with your brows pulled tight, lips still swollen from kissing, legs trembling from the multiple orgasms, trying so hard to stay irritated while your body keeps betraying you. it’s fucking adorable.

“don’t look at me like that,” you mutter weakly.

“like what?”

“like you know things.”

his grin widens instantly. “but i do know things now.”

what proceeded after was the thirty something year old coach, dropping to his knee and lifting your leg up, burying his face between your legs like a starving man. your lips part in shock.

but still, as toji works your pretty body to another orgasm, tongue shoved inside, cleaning this little pussy up, jaw slack as he gulps down his own cum. your fingers thread through his hair, tugging whenever he’d give your clit a mean rough suck, cheeks hollowing. his hand, grips your ass from behind, squeezing and slapping as he pleased, until you were falling apart.

afterwards, he cleaned you up. this time with some soap. his big hands roamed your body, every crevice and curve, hands massaging your breasts as he had your back pressed to his chest, chuckling when you’d whine. thumbs tugging playfully. hand rubbing between your legs, head tucked in your shoulder as he watches your smaller hands hold his forehead, face hot.

“toji,” you whine, embarrassed, as he teasing a finger against your hole again.

“what,” he smirks, watching your reactions, “I’m jus’ cleaning you up.”

he’s a fucking perv. but still, he teases you through the whole shower, keeping you close to his body and even letting you wash his back, admiring the muscles and ink that decorate his skin.

eventually, he steps out first, keeping you inside so he can grab an extra towel. his own wrapped around his waist.

that was the start of all of it.

three months later….

you and shoko are sitting out in the quad. table covered in assignments and forgotten laptops. all while you explained to shoko how your weekend went.

“no, we definitely got along. megumi is so cute!” you gush about the ten year old, describing how your first meeting went. toji had spoken about you enough to prepare megumi, waiting until the right time to introduce you both.

and now, you’re going to every single one of their soccer games, toji and megumi’s.

and eventually, after another hour passes by. a group of athletes comes walking down the path. covered in sweat, holding their duffles, and behind them is a very hot coach, already breaking into a smile when you jump up.

“toji!”

it was a routine. your arms thrown around his shoulders, as he lifts you up with one hand. zero regard for any pda, as he kisses you deeply. smiling as you hum, pecking him over and over.

“why do you guys look like that?” shoko grimaces, looking at gojo and geto who look far worse than the rest of the team that leave.

geto scowls, glaring at his best friend, “fucking coach overhead him again.”

shoko shakes her head, rolling her eyes, at the white haired idiot. “you need to stop—“

“it’s been three months and she’s not over that old man?!”

“he’s not even that old!” shoko defends.

but gojo scowls harder, glancing over his shoulder at you laughing and talking, hands animated, like the man in front of you was holding the world. “it’s always the mean girls.”

shoko frowns, “you’re messed up in the head.”

but even geto narrows his eyes when toji wraps a possessive arm around you, glaring up at the two players.

it was clear as day.

you’re his.

a/n: this was LOONG overdue, mb guys!!! but i hope you all enjoyed it!!! ahhhh i love coach toji sososososo much—like its a serious problem, i cant make reader behave normally when its toji, like she has to be obsessed with himmm

anyways, the next oneshot will def be the frat gojo fic! possibly thinking of frat geto after this oneshot too bc i put in some little easter eggs about how they both kinda lean into mean girls so stay tuned! — (divider by @/strangergraphics)

[chemicalzromance]

𝟑𝟎 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬

1.433k wc - not my art

Honestly you couldnt believe it. Seriously, the hottest guy— Satoru Gojo. Was asking you out. You’ve heard the stories on how hes the best dick you’ll get in your life, how he’d make you feel things you didnt even know you could feel.

But you also heard other things. How’d he just leave girls with a cold bed and ghost them, only to be seen with another girl on his arm, how’d he manage to leave a girl sobbing and in complete tears, both ways.

So could you blame yourself for saying yes to the date? Yeah, probably. You tell yourself you shouldn’t get too attached, just in case he’d treat you like all the other girls.

but thats the thing, he didn’t.

The first date went surprisingly amazing, he took you out on a basic bookstore date, and you really did try not to geek out on all the different mangas you saw, i mean who would think Satoru Gojo would stay with a girl who was a nerd?

He didn’t force you to hold hands with him, he didn’t insist on kissing you or surprisingly didn’t try to get in your pants.

The second date was actually, great. You invited him out to this place you always go to, whenever something is on your mind. A place close enough to walk from the dorms.

“I always go here whenever something is happening.” You explain as the sand seeps into your shoes.

“I can see why,” Satoru says quietly, subtly grabbing your hand, looking away. “It’s very quiet.”

It was quiet. Gojo wasn’t used to this. He’s used to the loudness of the parties, the dizziness from the alcohol.

You only laugh quietly, “That’s why it’s nice to have someone with you, so you aren’t alone with your thoughts.” You say as you hold his hand a little tighter as you walk along the shade of the palm trees.

He couldn’t help the way his heart skipped a beat at your laugh.

The third date went amazing. He took you out to an arcade where you insisted on winning yourself a Jolteon plush from the claw machine, only for him to shove you aside— gently, and take control of the machine.

“What type of boyfriend would I be if I let my gorgeous girlfriend lift a finger, when I could do it myself?” Satoru stated as he pressed his face against the machines glass, focusing entirely on the plush.

“Gojo—“ “Satoru.” “…”

“Satoru.” You sighed, leaning against his side.

“I could do it myself! Just because I already used half my tokens it’s fine, I can totally do it myself!” You said, a small frown forming on your face.

Satoru only made a small whine as a response as he carefully controlled the machine, finally landing the Jolteon into the chute.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you won’t have to win a single thing when your, handsome and strong boyfriend is with you of course.” Satoru declared, crouching down and grabbing the plush.

You couldn’t help but blush a bit when he called you sweetheart.

30 days. That’s how long Satoru had to complete the bet. 30 days of pining, constantly following you around like a puppy, just to be your boyfriend.

What you don’t know of, is how him and his frat brothers placed a bet on you. To see who can get in their beds first.

But what Satoru didn’t know, was that he was actually starting to fall for you, devoted to you.

I mean, he couldn’t really be himself in front of his frat brothers, who would know that the frat king of the campus was actually a complete nerd?

That’s why it certainly felt like love at first sight when he realized you were actually as much as a geek as him. You were basically his dream girl. You loved the same things as him, so when his frat brothers found out he invited you into his dorm?

“Dude, you actually invited a bet girl into your dorm? You don’t even let your hookups, or even us into your dorm. Who knows what stuff you do in that room?” Sukuna scoffs, flicking some of his rings around his fingers.

“It’s not like I actually like her,” Satoru insisted. A complete lie. “It’s just that it’ll be easier to fuck her when she thinks I trust her.”

“All it took were some sweet words and a bit of some gentle touch and shes all over me— I mean yeah, it was some trouble getting her just to look at me at first, but come on. After that she was so easy.” Satoru said, sighing as he stared at the ceiling of the fraternity.

Toji groans, “Sucks though, havent been able to go to a frat party in a while huh? Better hurry and finish this bet up so you don’t lose that title to someone else, preferably me.” He teases.

“I know, right?!” Satoru shoots up from his seat, “Shes into these more gentle types of dudes, made me swear to not do any frat parties, that’s just some bullshit! Im going crazy not being laid in so long!” Satoru complains, his head falling to his hands.

“She’s just, so unbelievably clingy, constantly texting me, ‘Toru have you eaten? Satoru don’t forget to turn in your homework, god shes actually so frustrating.” Satoru continues.

Sukuna snorts. “Seems like you got yourself a little nerd huh? Better not let Choso find out about her. God knows how much hes a geek, surprised he actually is able to keep up with us.”

a faint, “I heard that!” came from the second floor.

Satoru only whines, “Shes such a nerd! she always geeks out to me about these mangas and anime shit, like it’s actually so annoying, all i hear when we go out is all this anime bullshit. God, I can’t wait for this bet to be over.”

Thats the thing.

He doesn’t want it to be over.

You’re the only person he’d been able to be himself around. Where he doesn’t have to keep up his frat persona. Where he can be vulnerable. Safe.

So how does he react when he hears a small, unnervingly familiar gasp behind him?

Slowly turning his head, Satoru is met with the sight of you standing next to a very guilty looking Suguru.

“Shit, I’m sorry man. Didn’t know you were talking about the.. bet. Let her in because I thought—“ Suguru couldn’t finish his thoughts before Satoru jumped from his seat the very moment you quickly turn around and start walking out.

Satoru didn’t know he would ever be chasing after a girl. Girls and boys chase after him, throw themselves at his feet.

Fuck, shit how could I have let this happen? She wasn’t suppose to find out, she wasn’t supposed to know.

All these thoughts run through his head ss he grabs your wrist, stopping you as you both catch your breath.

“Fuck, baby please listen, don’t run off yet. Just let me explain—“

“No, Gojo I won’t let you explain, 30 days? Im easy?” You interrupt, “I should’ve listened to my friends, you were just using me for my body, but a bet? seriously?”

Your words were breathless, exhausted from running. But that wasn’t enough to distract you from the way your eyes were brimming with unshed tears, tears that refused to flow in front of Satoru Gojo. And the ache in your stomach, like you shouldve know this would’ve happened.

“I really, really liked you Gojo.” You confess. “Really did, I let myself be annoying because I thought you liked me rambling.”

“I do! I love it! I love hearing you talk about what you love and how- how your voice gets a bit higher when it’s about something you really really love!” Satoru says, grabbing your hands and holding them together with his.

“Then why did you say it was annoying?! That hurt Gojo, really hurt.”

Satoru shakes his head, “No, not Gojo, it’s only been Toru, right? I didn’t mean it! I-I was just saying stuff because it was in front of my frat bros!”

You tug your hands back, holding them away as you wipe your eyes, wanting to say more but you knew you couldn’t continue without crying.

So you ran.

And Satoru chased, until his legs gave out and he cant help how he cries. Warm tears falling from his eyes, no one would believe themselves if they saw Satoru Gojo like this. The frat king of the college crying, over a girl.

His girl.

please do not copy write, or feed my work into ai. All credits are to megachickenexplosion. Not my art. Art found on pinterest.

read the original idea here

(pt 2??)

vote here!!