[kentoruuu]

“DO NOT PUT OFF UNTIL TOMORROW WHAT CAN BE DONE TODAY…”

THIS ACCOUNT IS JUST A HOBBY

THIS IS DARK/CONTENT/ 18+ MULTIFANDOM BUT MAINLY JJK FANDOM. PLEASE READ ALL TAGS BEFORE READING!

PARK BLUEPRINT

PARK MAP:

FUTURE ATTRACTIONS:

LATEST ATTRACTION: imagine

REQUESTS: OPEN…as always ;)

©kentoruu2025- do not plagiarise, repost, modify, translate my works

[koulakoukoula2003]

wanna suck his dick so bad it'll trigger a black hole

[ttakdoll]

꩜ – FRAT PRESIDENT SATORU GOJO (and the shy girl he's obsessed with!)

(18+) HEADCANONS :: – frat!gojo x innocent!reader, college au, smut, dom!gojo, handjobs, praise, corruption kink, manipulative behavior, slight dub-con

frat president!satoru, who’s used to every type of girl at his party except you, all big eyes, wandering around his house like you didn’t know what to do. he’s asked suguru to offer you everything under the sun in the last thirty or so minutes — a drink, a smoke, a joint. you just politely decline, shaking your head so prettily.

frat president!satoru, who swears he’s just got an ego when he decides he’ll be the one to show you all of that and more. he could do it if suguru couldn’t, if no one else could.

he starts off all nice, walking you to all your classes, offering his sweaters in the lectures you had together (which he only started attending for you), buying you lunch and listening to your cute little rants about your worst profs.

frat president!satoru learns that you like being held when he’s the first one to find you after an exam you swear you’d failed. he doesn’t get it ‘til he’d realized your eyes are all glassy, so shiny as you peered up at him with wobbling lips, trying not to cry in front of him.

frat president!satoru loves the way you’d just melted into his arms after that. he calls you easy to his friends for it, but something inside him never wants to let go whenever you’re willing to press yourself into his chest, wherever you’re willing to do it.

frat president!satoru, who asks you what you’re wearing all the time and sends even prettier things to wear to your dorm when he thinks you can do better.

frat president!satoru, who’s spiraling at night, jerking off to your contact photo, wrapping his large hand around his dick and pretending like it’s that sweet mouth of yours engulfing his length. he imagines how shy you’d be, lips parted wide, smearing pre-cum and replacing your candy lip balm. he wants you tasting like him, those soft cheeks drenched in his cum, eyes screwed shut until he’s all you can think about.

frat president!satoru likes making you need him, doting on you and driving you around like a princess, spoiling you until you frown whenever his hand isn’t on your hip, or whenever he dodges your calls for fraternity meetings. he likes the idea that you might become obsessed with him (like he is with you). 

frat president!satoru, who’s grinning cruelly the minute you finally tell him, “you know, you do so much for me, I feel like I’m not doing enough for you.” in that nervous voice of yours one day, while you’re tucked into his side at your apartment.

frat president!satoru, who’s never missed a meeting or a call until that day, when he’s finally got you whimpering shyly in his lap while he gently mouths at your neck, tasting that perfume he’s been searching online for for weeks, whispering about how he’s so grateful you wanna help him out, how sweet you are for making it up to him too even when you didn't have to.

but he’s been waiting for weeks, you’re all soft and impressionable on him, and he’s not letting a moment of your kindness go to waste.

frat president!satoru guides you with a husky voice when he teaches you to spit in your own palm and wrap your hand around his cock, nearly shivering at the contact  — “make me feel good, pretty girl, it’s the least you can do.”

frat president!satoru, who just chuckles at the fact that you’re all nervous, looking up at him as if asking what to do next, just for him to wrap his palm around yours, engulfing it entirely. he groans lowly as he moves your palm up and down on his already-hard length, bottom lip catching between his teeth at how warm your hand feels against his dick.

“shit, just keep it like that, baby, up and down…”

frat president!satoru, who kisses you slow when you gasp at how he bucks up into your hand, keeping his own wrapped around it while desperately attempting not to just use you, jerk himself off with your tiny little fingers, maneuver you down and slam himself deep into your tight cunt. “hah — fuck, gorgeous, y— you’re good at this, huh? so good for me, so fucking cute…”

“i’ve never done this before,” you admit into frat president!satoru’s mouth, hushed and breathy like it’s a secret. he wants to fucking laugh, but he’s cut short by a low hiss as you thumb at his slit without him having to teach you, making him lose his mind piece by piece. shit, you’re just perfect, aren’t you? 

“am — am I doing okay, satoru?” 

frat president!satoru has nearly had enough of patience when you say that. shit, he bites down into your lip without even realizing, hand tightening around yours when you whimper. and it’s barely enough to notice at first, but he pumps your hand around him faster, growling into your mouth at the way your fingertips flex around his length, making a slick! sound that echoes across the room.

“you’re — shit, just like that — doing perfect, baby. so perfect.” frat president!satoru groans into your throat, even though he’s using your hand like a fuck toy now, smearing his own pre-cum mixed with your saliva all over his huge dick, bucking his hips up into your plush skin like a glorified fleshlight.

the only one he’s dreamed of in the past few weeks, at least.

frat president!satoru gets off on how eager you are to match his pace, his other hand cupping your cheeks to purse your pretty mouth open for him as he spits down your throat and relishes in your confused little whine. he doesn’t even realize how tightly he’s gripping your hand now, forcing you to jerk his cock faster.

“that’s it,” he pants into your lips, “just let me have you, okay? hah— so good, shit, you’ve been wanting this too, haven’t you?”

“satoru—” your voice is a wet dream, how it feathers off around the edges and breaks like you’re not sure.

frat president!satoru groans at the sound of your confusion. “been, fuck, thinking about this, baby. want you creaming on my cock next, yeah? or maybe it’s — haah! — too big for your first time. gotta — shit — prep you first.”

frat president!satoru spills into your hand with one last rough stroke of both your hands around his length, gasping low with his tongue down your throat as he finally lets your hand go. he watches the way your palm shakes, eyes dark, lifting your cum-covered fingertips to your mouth without thinking. and he thinks you won’t do it, until—

your sweet fucking tongue darts out to lick experimentally at your own fingers, and satoru thinks he’s gone to heaven.

frat president!satoru, who can’t help himself when he’s grabbing you by the waist now, laying you flat on your back and coming up to slot his knee between your thighs, committing the way your face scrunches up in both confusion and pleasure to memory. he thinks you’re the cutest fucking thing in the world, and he wants you broken in every way possible until you can’t fuck any other guy without imagining his dick. 

“thank you, baby,” he grins against your neck. “can i make you feel good now?”

frat president!satoru, who decided he’d never let you fuck anyone else anyways the moment you'd nodded.

@ ttakdoll, 2026

inspired by an anon request for a shy reader!!

[bigtrashland]

✮⋆˙ satoru cums in you for the first time in front of the city view MDNI

On Friday nights, people either go out partying or stay home and chill, doing what they enjoy. That’s something you liked to do, but that all changed when you ended up in a relationship.

You and Gojo have been on a movie marathon since 5PM, and it’s well past midnight now. Let’s just say the Netflix ‘Are you still watching?’ question has been on your TV screen for the past three hours.

Currently, you were getting fucked so hard, bent before the vast glass window overlooking a city alive with lights. Although your attention wasn’t on anything outside, it was on your boyfriend's girthy dick plunging in and out of your gummy walls.

It was Gojo’s idea to fuck you in front of the window. His words were: “I want everyone to see my pretty girl and how she takes this dick.”, and without a second thought, you agreed.

Your back was against his chest, both hands on the now foggy window. Meanwhile, Gojo couldn’t get enough of you—his hands roaming all over your body. Gripping your waist, while the other moved up toward your tits, giving them a harsh squeeze, which had you whimpering in return.

“Taking this dick so well, you’re so fucking perfect. God, I love you.” He rambled on completely out of his mind. His praises made you look up at him, your head resting on his shoulder.

His eyes were half-lidded, staring directly into your soul. The kind of look that always had your stomach tingling and the wetness between your thighs growing more.

“Please, please. Don’t stop,” you whined, pushing your hips back into him. The tip of his dick kissing your cervix.

Gojo’s eyes rolled back into his skull, his plump lips parted—panting so hard, it sounded as if he just ran a 20-mile marathon. “Ngh- baby, if you do that, I might actually cum inside you.”

You turn your attention back to the city, and then an idea of something completely new to you pops inside your fucked out brain. “Cum inside me, in front of the—Fuck just like that—city.”

After being together for nearly a year, he still hasn’t been able to cum inside you. You both just didn’t want to risk having a kid, but how hot he was looking and the feeling of his thrusts against you had you not caring about anything.

He quickly snapped his eyes open; his hips fluttered for half a second as an eyebrow raised. “You… are you sure?”

“Please.” You nodded immediately, licking your lips. “I need it.”

With that, his dick twitched inside you. One of his hands moved to the back of your spine, bending you down into a biggg arch. Your legs wobbled beneath your weight; the left side of your face squished against the cold windowpane.

He bit his lip at the sight of you, both hands now gripping your waist as his pace began to fuck you harder and faster. You cried out, nails digging into the window. Probably leaving scratches- not like you both cared anyway.

“Yeah? You want my cum inside you?” His gaze dropped down, watching his cock slide in and out of you, then glancing back up. “My needy girl wants my cum dripping from her pussy, huh?”

“Mhm!” You couldn’t mutter a single word. You were starting to feel so overstimulated with how full you felt, plus you both have been fucking like rabbits—without taking a single break.

He leaned over, his chest against your back. He sank his teeth into your neck, leaving yet another mark on your delicate skin. His eyes didn't look away from your face.

You turned your head as far as you could, your lips puckering in a silent invitation for him to kiss you. He met your lips right away; it was a sweet kiss you both shared over the years.

He bit your lip hard enough to draw the slightest amount of blood. You moaned against his lip, your lips parting. He slid his tongue inside your mouth instantly; the feeling made your head dizzy.

It’s surprising to this day how good he can kiss. Even though you were his first girlfriend, his first kiss. First everything in general, but honestly you loved every bit of it.

And as time went on, the kiss became deeper. Tongues fighting for dominance, with each of you refusing to give in. Gojo’s hand traveled up to your neck, his large palm settling against your skin before his fingers squeezed firmly.

He pulled away from the kiss, just enough to speak. Both of your breaths were mixing together as you looked into each other’s eyes.

His eyebrows furrowed up, and you could tell he was trying his hardest not to roll his eyes back into his skull again. You also know he was so close to cumming.

“You gonna cum, baby?” Your voice was in that sweet tone that had him whimpering in response. You lifted your hand from the cool window, moving your arm behind you until your fingers disappeared into his messy white hair.

His thrust grew sloppier with each move, his thighs hitting the back of your ass. Gojo moved his hand down your body, feeling you up before landing between your thighs. His middle finger rubbed against your clit, fast.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes I’m gonna cum.” He grunted, throwing his head back, eyes closing tightly, mouth gapped open. The grip on your waist tightened enough for his knuckles to turn white.

His throat bobbing, hips meeting your ass as his cum spilled all over your walls. Painting your insides white. The new sensation of being filled to the brim made your own release wash over you. Your legs became weak as tears began to form in the corner of your eyes.

“Fuck!” You cried out, slamming your hand back onto the window. The contact made a big bang, which, surprisingly, none of you noticed.

Your mind was absolutely scrambled, lost in the orgasm he just gave you. Probably the best one you've experienced together, and if it wasn’t for his arms holding you up, you would’ve fallen to the ground.

He held you close to his chest, panting into your ear. Overcoming his own release. Then he slowly pulled out of your pussy, watching as his dick fell out. “holy shit.”

You turned your head to face him. “Hm?”

He leaned down, cracking a hand over your plush cheek. You whine out at the contact, but he doesn’t take any of notice of it, his attention stuck on him spreading your ass cheeks apart and watching as his cum drip out of you, “This is the hottest shit I’ve ever seen.”

“Stop! You’re gonna get it on the carpet.” You complained, slapping his shoulder. He shook his head, chuckling—not long before running his finger between your slit, gathering up every drop of the white liquid that slipped out of you.

He stood up to his full height, moving his finger to your lips. “Open.”

You locked eyes with him, slowly opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. With that, he stuck his finger into your mouth. Immediately, you sucked on it, whining at the taste.

His dick got hard right away. He pulled his fingers out, leaning down, meeting your lips in another harsh kiss. The taste of both of you lingering on his tongue drew a low groan from him against your lips before he slowly pulled away.

”Just letting y'know, i'm cumming inside you all the time now.”

sorry if this is ass, i have no clue what i’m doing 😣.

[kentoruuu]

WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE TUMBLR BOT HACKERS INFILTRATING AND FLOODING THE TAGS PLSSSSSS MORE ATTENTION NEEDS TO BE BROUGHT TO THIS

[kentoruuu]

WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE TUMBLR BOT HACKERS INFILTRATING AND FLOODING THE TAGS PLSSSSSS MORE ATTENTION NEEDS TO BE BROUGHT TO THIS

[ouist]

࿁ 𑄹 ˙ . Frat! Sukuna fucking you in your childhood bedroom . . .

゛cw : 18+, afab!fem!reader, mentions of pink/cutesy things, frat au, readers parents are in the house, breeding kink. ་༘ ࿐

Sukuna’s big on respect. For all the loudmouthed, chaotic, frat-boy bullshit Ryomen Sukuna pulls every other day of the week, he treats your parents like royalty. He’s the guy who reaches the top shelf for your mom, clears his plate and asks for seconds with a charming grin, and spends his Saturdays helping your dad patch the drywall or weed the yard. They made you. His girl. The only person in the world who actually commands his attention. In his mind, he owes them an unpayable debt for just letting you exist.

But then there’s also a flip side. The edge of him that doesn't give a fuck about decorum.

Like right now. In your childhood bedroom—clean white walls, soft pink curtains framing the windows, shelves lined with plushies and those weirdly detailed anime figurines you collect that he secretly finds hilarious.

It’s completely your fault. You couldn’t just sit still and watch the movie; you had to keep shifting, pressing your tits against his arm, driving him out of his mind. So now you’re on top.

His heavy, tattooed hands are locked onto your hips, physically lifting and slamming you down onto his dick, anchoring you while your parents are literally in the next room over.

“This shit get you off, baby?” he whispers, his voice a gravelly rasp. He’s grinning, watching your eyes roll back, your walls squeezing him so tight it’s turning him feral. “Getting absolutely ruined while your mom and dad are right through that wall?”

“Shut—fuck—shut up, ‘Kuna,” you gasp out, hands gripping his shoulders for dear life as he hitches his hips up, driving his curved and leaky tip straight to the hilt, burying it into the deepest part of you. “They’ll hear you.”

“Let ‘em hear,” he chuckles, a cocky, breathless sound as he guides your rhythm, forcing you to bounce like a rabbit in heat. “They’re gonna find out anyway when we graduate, get hitched, and I keep you pregnant every nine months. I’m putting at least six kids in you. Gonna have you stuffed full of my cum every single night.”

The dirty promise of it sends a violent shudder straight down your spine, your thighs trembling as the friction pushes you over the edge. The tight coil in your lower stomach snaps. You completely lose control, a hot, dripping wave of pleasure washing through you as you come all over him.

Sukuna groans, his grip on your waist tightening until it bruises, his entire body going rigid as he pumps his seed into the condom. You hear a a frustrated hiss from under you. He hates the latex barrier, in fact, you’re sure he’s already craving the day he can cum inside of your pretty pussy for real.

© Ouist ༉‧₊˚ — Thank you for reading!

[t0jisbunny]

olderbf!toji makes you squirt for the first time ♡

toji has you right where he wants you — pinned beneath him, cunt fluttering around his thick cock as he snaps his hips against yours, one of his large hands firm on your hip to keep you from squirming.

because with what he’s about to do, he knows you’ll try to run.

your older boyfriend has had you on the edge of squirting countless times — not that you knew that. every time you get close, you run from the feeling, squirming away from him nervously. the feeling was so familiar, yet so foreign. you just couldn’t allow yourself to let go.

toji won’t allow that tonight. if there’s one thing he desperately wants, it’s to see his pretty girlfriend squirting all over his dick, to watch you make a mess.

“aahhhnnn! — toji! — feels s’good,” you babble, both of your legs draped over his broad shoulders, cock buried deep inside of you as he hits every sensitive spot. spots only he could reach.

toji leans in, almost pressing his chest to yours, folding you into a filthy mating press — cock angled upwards to hit your g-spot with devastating skill. “that’s my girl, doin’ so good." he knew he had to praise you, relax you, convince you not to run.

then, the familiar pressure builds, legs beginning to shake as you draw closer to the edge. "baby, wait — mnghh — feels weird," you whine, pushing his chest with your palm, yet he doesn’t budge. not even an inch.

"don’t run from it, just trust me, atta girl,” he rasps, balls slapping against your skin, fucking you with fast, shallow thrusts. "y’can do it, doll."

you furrow your brows, desperately trying to fight the feeling. "toji, i’m serious! mnnn — feels like i’m gonna pee, please j-just — ahhh!" you whimper.

he takes both of your wrists in one of his large hands, pinning them above your head. “you ain’t gonna piss, — hah — just let it happen, baby,” he encourages, a knowing grin on his face.

his other hand snakes between your bodies, down to your clit, rubbing it side to side. your eyes widen as you feel it, that final push, that weird sensation that you desperately want to run from. but you don’t. it happens too fast, too soon.

a gush of clear fluid spurts out of you, spraying toji’s abs, his dick, and especially the sheets below you. your cheeks burn as you moan his name shamelessly, legs shaking on his shoulders. "that’s it, baby — shit — make a mess."

toji was almost possessed by the sight, pounding you faster, harder, determined to draw out every drop, to fuck you through every pulse. "o-oh my god, toji!" you pant, pressing your forehead to his, trembling from overstimulation.

he slows his pace just a little, leaning back to admire the mess you’d made, abs glistening with fluid and sweat. it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

"got no idea how fuckin’ hot that is," he pants lightly, removing his hand from between your legs, using it to rub your thigh soothingly instead.

"gonna do it again f’me, yeah?" he rasps, beginning to thrust into you again — mean, deep, hard.

you knew the entire bed would be drenched before he’s finished with you.

a/n; thank you for 4.2k MWAH 🖤 (sorry this one’s a little short i wrote it on my break)

more like this !

[mrsblaileen]

dom!Sukuna who’s fine with you touching yourself, so long as you don’t put anything inside... nsfw 18+ mdni.

──── ୨୧ ────

“You’re soaked. Really gave her a workout, hm?”

His thumb swiped between your legs slowly, lazily. Just enough to graze over your clit, still perked and twitching with residual little sizzles of pleasure.

He paused a moment just to watch you clench around nothing, to indulge in the feeling of your clit pulsing beneath his thumb before his touch dipped lower. Calloused fingertips traced around your entrance, smearing the slick left drooling there in the wake of your nth orgasm.

“But not here, right?” He questioned, voice nothing but a deep rumble as he teased at your rim.

You shook your head slowly, feeling dizzy and a little breathless. Brain fuzzy now with the delicate brush of his fingers tracing your neglected entrance, and the way his voice felt over your ears - silky and utterly decadent.

“Of course not,” he soothed, voice still low, painfully intimate, “because only I’m allowed inside, isn’t that right, pet?”

As the last word left him, his wrist finally moved. Two thick fingers slipping inside with an ease that made your stomach drop and your pulse leap to a frenzied thrum. Your body welcomed the contact, sucked the length of him inside greedily until you felt the heel of his palm grind against you.

“Yes sir…” you breathed, nothing but a whisper as you watched the muscle in his forearm jump from beneath half-lidded lashes. Listening to the slurry of wet noises he was beginning to draw from you, and huffing out a choked little gasp each time his palm kissed your sticky clit.

His fingers curled with an obscene ‘squelch!’, petting somewhere deep and tender that had your lashes fluttering closed and a shaky breath escaping from between your parted, raw-bitten lips.

“That’s a good girl,” he purred, savouring the sight of your chin hitting your chest as you began to melt into the mattress, the feeling of your pussy clenching desperately around his digits - blindly chasing a pleasure only he could provide.

[heartkaji]

ⵌ XO, EX HOE ! ft. fratkuna

AITA FOR SABOTAGING MY EX-GF’S NEW RELATIONSHIP ?

18+. sum 𓏲 you and fratkuna are the kind of couple who break up & make up every other week. but when you swear you’re done with him and go off to date his rival, the new football team captain, can his frat brothers help him get you back ?

cast: nerdjo (‘toru’ gojo) + frat! jjk men (‘sigma chi’) : fratjo (‘sato’ gojo) ◞ geto ◞ toji ◞ sukuna ◞ nanami 𓏲 gallery here !

EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #1: GET YOUR GIRL BACK !

taught by: toru gojo

‘sabotaging your ex girlfriend’s new relationship to get her back? this can’t be a good idea.’

ΣΧ “‘high value woman’ but your new man’s a misogynist?!”

ryomen sukuna’s time of irritation is approximately 9:17 PM.

toru gojo’s bedroom floor is velvet carpet with half-empty beer bottles rotting on the rug. his center table is littered with poker cards & sato’s candy wrappers, and geto suguru & sato gojo are avoiding eye contact so they don’t burst out in laughter as sukuna glares daggers at toru’s screen.

toru’s hands shake under sukuna’s glare but he holds the phone steady. the instagram post on screen is a slap to sukuna’s face.

HOT NEW CAMPUS COUPLE : FOOTBALL CAPTAIN NAOYA ZENIN & Y/N L/N !

and the photo is you. swollen lips & pretty gaze & a dress so short it makes sukuna’s jaw ache—but not as much as naoya’s arm around you does. beside you toji’s cousin naoya zenin is there, grin cocky, eyes glinting in the camera light and arm around your waist because his fugly ass doesn’t know you like to be held around the hips instead. sukuna’s jaw ticks.

“i’m gonna get her back.”

sato, suguru and toru all glance towards each other. they know what that voice means. there’s no talking him out of it.

but toru lowers his phone, tries regardless. “are you sure? y/n’s always been strong headed. she might hate you even more if—“

sukuna grabs his crotch aggressively. “keep talking and i’ll jizz on your face.”

toru squeaks. sukuna continues. “i know my own girl. know she’s a fucking brat, doing this shit to get on my nerves,” he growls. “she’s bored. testing me. probably doing this shit to see if i’ll show up at practice ‘n break his jaw for touching her.”

suguru is biting back a grin. “calling her your girl when she broke up with you last week? and the week before that?”

sukuna takes a swig of his beer but his jaw is ticking behind the can. “exactly. she knows where home is.”

sato’s grin is clumsy. “i dunno, man. seems like she’s got a new address,” he elbows suguru’s side. “naoya’s pants, wellesley street east.”

“M-4-Y, 1-H-5,” suguru snickers.

“glad you two have the energy to joke,” sukuna sets down his beer with a thud. “means you’ll have energy to help me out tomorrow night.

tomorrow? tomorrow can only mean one thing.

naoya zenin’s one million snap score party. and also, the party that the college football team throws every year before the start of a new season. the party that sukuna hasn’t been to since he quit the role of captain. the party where sukuna first found you drunk & dizzy in an alley just out back, perfume strong & heels clicky, stumbling into his chest with a clumsy grin & flushed cheeks as he held your hips against him to keep you from falling. you reeked of vodka & you kept slurring his name & ryomen sukuna thought you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

and now his pretty thing is somewhere curled into naoya’s side, and the thought makes sukuna’s throat itch.

suguru cocks his head. “so i’m guessing you have a plan?”

sukuna chugs his beer. “you know the plan.”

they do—they all do. sato is already grinning. suguru is shaking his head. toru is watching the fratboys with worried eyes.

sato, suguru and sukuna’s lips curl.

the plan?

sabotage.

# SHOW TIME !

at naoya zenin’s one million snapscore party, the air is heavy with the smell of drunken bodies / athlete sweat / something alcoholic dripping off a countertop. geto’s piercings glimmer in the evening dim. ryomen sukuna has his jaw tight. and sato gojo is already drunk and somewhere dancing, legworking with ease as rema’s azaman blares through the speakers.

sukuna and suguru are still scanning the scene when naoya saunters up to them.

naoya zenin is badly dyed hair, bright green eyes and a cocky lilt to his shoulders. he’s got the team’s varsity jacket around him—GO PANDAS!—and a grin too cruel to be kind. he raises his hands in faux welcome.

“suguru, sukuna,” naoya smiles. “didn’t think you’d make it.”

sukuna eyes him. “congratulations on your snapscore.”

“and my new position as captain,” naoya bites so hard his teeth show. “how’s retirement treating you, ryomen? enjoying life off the pitch?”

suguru slings an arm around sukuna, quick to come to his defence. “he’s doing great, thank you. how about you, captain? have you found confidence in your buck teeth?”

naoya’s smile dissolves.

“nice engagement bait,” naoya recovers. he’s grinning again but his lips only stretch, teeth hidden. “you always did bite like a bitch, suguru.”

“i try.”

“enjoy the booze,” naoya lets out a jagged breath, turning away. “try not to cry in your cups too much.”

sukuna has his arms crossed over his chest, suguru’s arm still slung around him. but he’s not watching naoya walk away. his eyes have drifted to you.

you across the party and perched on a seat at the bar, a glass of something pink in your hands and a dress so short he can trace the swell of your ass. and you’re laughing—oh god, you’re laughing, tucking hair behind your ear with flushed cheeks and a carefree smile. sukuna’s mouth dries. god, you’re so pretty. you’re always so pretty, and sukuna wants to tell you that; wants to curl up beside you and wipe away the red dribbling down your chin and maybe tug your dress down over your ass. you’d swat at him and tell him he’s ruining your outfit. and then you’d kiss him because you like when he gets territorial anyways.

you laugh again, and ryomen sukuna is already moving.

that is, until naoya curls up behind you.

sukuna stops in his tracks. naoya snakes an arm around your waist from behind—your waist again, not your hips, fucking idiot—and sukuna’s jaw goes slack. he watches naoya press his parched, un-vaselined lips to your shoulder blades, and he doesn’t miss the slight tense of your shoulders before you ease into his chest.

sukuna’s jaw ticks. “suguru.”

“hm?”

“get sato. it’s time.”

suguru grins. “yes, boss.”

suguru disappears into the crowd. sukuna’s eyes shift back to you, back to naoya, back to the way his hands slide up your side and the way he whispers something in your ear. you laugh again and sukuna’s jaw twitches, because the sound itself comes out strained.

you’re uncomfortable. and he’d be a fool to miss it.

suguru reappears with sato in tow.

sato is drunk. swaying. red-bruised lips & booze in his breath. his cheeks are flushed pink & his hair sweat-sticky and he’s slung over suguru’s back like his life depends on it. he nuzzles into suguru’s neck. “mmh—you called?”

sukuna’s eyes are still on you. he nods towards the bar, “you see naoya?”

sato squints. “so ugly,”

“he’s got his hands on my girl.”

sato frowns. “that won’t do.”

“yeah,” sukuna murmurs, lifting a cup of punch off a passing tray. suguru is wiping rum off sato’s lip. sukuna passes the cup to sato. “you remember the plan?”

sato gives a drunken nod. and then he’s off.

the plan is simple: red punch, ugly naoya, combination. sato gojo is supposed to be a ninja, an image of stealth and diligence. instead he’s a wobbly drunken mess, giggling boyishly as he stumbles towards the bar.

he’s so close, sukuna’s eyes narrow. just a few more steps and then naoya will be drenched—

but sato trips. and as he falls, he pulls naoya’s pants down with him.

the situation is a whole mess.

punch everywhere. sticky on naoya’s shocked face, on sato’s fallen figure, on the party’s hardwood floor. and everyone is watching—staring—at naoya zenin covered in punch, pants on the floor. those boxers—is that undertale?

naoya’s face is blood drenched. “you drunken fucking idiot—”

“m’sorry,” sato cries, face down, hands still gripping naoya’s pants. “was tryna—hic—spill the punch, hnghh—suguru—“

“get the fuck off me!” naoya kicks at him, pants rippling around his ankles. someone is pulling out their phone to record. another is already recording. everyone’s laughing, including you, and even ryomen sukuna is struggling to bite back the chuckle on his lips.

naoya scrambles out of the party, shuffling out in his sans undertale boxers with his pants around his feet. suguru has already made his way to sato’s side.

sato’s eyes are teary, and his forehead is bruised red from naoya’s kick. suguru cups his face, brows knit. “hey man. you alright?”

sato groans. “i spilled the punch and the pants.”

“mhm,” geto snorts, smushing sato’s cheeks between his palms. “good job, buddy.”

“i did good?”

“so good,” geto smiles down at him. “come on, up you go.”

suguru helps sato up to his feet. sukuna is already moving.

towards you, you at the bar with your palm over your mouth to muffle your laugh as you watch naoya flee into the night. sukuna steps into your space. your eyes are still on the door before you slowly, slowly, turn your head around to him.

your pupils are blown. cheeks flushed and chest heaving from the alcohol, and your eyes focus for a minute before you grin.

“aww, look,” you beam. “if it isn’t my ex-boyfriend.”

sukuna shouldn’t take advantage.

he knows if you were sober, it’d be a different story. he knows you’d kick and hit at him, maybe snarl about his audacity to show his face around you. but you’re too many drinks too deep and as drunk and dizzy as the day he met you in that alleyway, so instead of kicking at him you lean forward to cup his cheeks.

sukuna tilts his head to kiss your palm. “Hi, baby. you’re drunk.”

“noo,” you slur. “i’m tipsy.”

“mhm,” sukuna grunts, stepping forward to slide his arms around your hips before you can lean off the chair. he tugs your dress down over your ass, then strokes your thigh. “third glass?”

“so close!” you squeeze his neck happily. “i’m on my sixth.”

sukuna hugs you back. but his face is scowling.

naoya zenin—that fucking idiot. sukuna knows your limit is four. he knows that any more than that and you’ll be sick for days, groggy and weak and unable to get out of bed. he squeezes your hips. “s’too much, sweetheart.”

“i know,” you pout into his neck. “i couldn’t resist.”

oh, his poor girl. sukuna kisses your hair. just once—just because he missed the warmth of your skin—but then he does it again and again and you giggle into his chest. fuck. he’s missed the sound bad.

“i’m sorry.”

sukuna’s heart stops. “what?”

“for going past my limit.”

sukuna can feel you pouting in his neck. he sighs, because of course that’s what you meant. not that you were sorry for leaving him or whatever his delusions had him hearing in that moment. after all, he should be the one apologizing anyway. right?

“you’re okay,” he hugs you closer, pressing your head into his chest. god, you’re gonna be so sick tomorrow; and the day after, and the day after. “i’m not mad, pretty. don’t apologize.”

you nod against him. “are you gonna take care of me?”

sukuna wishes drunk you didn’t talk so much.

because it hurts to have to say no, no but i want to, no but i would if i knew you wouldn’t hate me for it when you’re sober, so he doesn’t say it at all. instead he traces circles on your hips. “gimme your phone.”

you rest your chin on his chest and beam up at him drunkenly instead.

sukuna lets out a sigh, shifting just enough to reach for your purse without jerking you off his chest. he slips your phone into his palm and tries for the passcode. it unlocks in one go. the passcode is still his birthday, and sukuna sighs again.

“i’m gonna call shoko,” he murmurs into your ear. “she’ll take care of you, yeah?”

he could take care of you too, you know. if you’d let him. but you wouldn’t, so he bites his lip.

“shoko?” you coo into his neck. “i love shoko.”

“i know,” sukuna squeezes your thigh. “i know you do.”

TORU’S REMARK: I HAVE A BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS…

EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #2: GO BIG OR GO HOME !

taught by: geto suguru

“like the great oikawa tooru said, if you’re gonna hit it? hit it until it breaks.”

ΣΧ

ryomen sukuna is itch itch itching.

itching to know if you’re okay. itching to know if shoko—or, ugh, naoya—let you have those crackers you like to help you settle your stomach, kept your room slightly warm, and for christ’s sake, kept you away from the advil. you love to reach for them after a night of drinking. sukuna knows it only makes your headaches worse.

you haven’t posted on instagram in days.

not that he should know since you have him blocked. but luckily your account is public and sato’s allowed him to log in on his fake instagram hair page. SlayedBySato. hit them up on IG.

sukuna is lying on the couch, nose buried in a cushion. he watches your highlights with bleary eyes. in the one he’s viewing, you’re in a tight black dress, red and blue hues lighting up your face. you’re dancing the night away, cheeks flushed, lashes fluttering. his pretty party girl. god.

“look at my girl,” he mumbles into the pillow. “so fucking hot. i’ll slap the shit out of naoya zenin.”

geto laughs. “shouldn’t have let her get away, then.”

on the floor, sato has his head in suguru’s lap, pouting as geto presses an iced cloth to his forehead. he flinches. “sugu, how much longer?”

“shh,” geto hisses, even though the swelling went down ages ago.

sukuna rolls so his body lays upright, setting his phone down on his chest. “it’s not enough.” he glares at the ceiling. “that stunt with his boxers? did nothing but make a bunch of people laugh.”

suguru and sato look at each other. geto’s voice goes low.

“what are you saying?”

“i’m saying he’s a fraud and i want everyone to fucking know it.” sukuna sits up, tossing his phone unto the coffee table. “he’s still captain of the football team. but i have a video that could change that.”

“the season’s first game, naoya’s first official game as captain…” sato thinks. “are you saying you wanna pull something?”

“i’m thinking of playing it in the locker room TV. make the other boys lose respect for him.”

sato and suguru look at each other again.

“boring.” sato says.

“huh?”

“toru has access to the AV booth,” a slow grin curls its way onto suguru’s lips. “would be a fucking shame if he and i were to mess with the feed on game day.”

sato sits up from suguru’s lap. “locker room TV? boring as fuck, man. the sukuna i know? he’d play whatever video he has in front of the whole fucking stadium.”

sukuna looks at his frat brothers. at their wicked grins and stupid pride and willingness to follow him to the ends of the earth. it’s foolish, honestly. going to such lengths to destroy naoya zenin because he dared to look twice at his girl. but he’s a stupid man, and his frat brothers are even stupider, and this is what the sigma-chi brotherhood is really about.

sukuna’s lip twitches. “i fucking love you guys.”

“we know,” suguru says. “and don’t ever say that shit again.”

# GAME DAY !

LET’S GO PANDAS !

the chanting in the stadium sounds more like a roar.

the air is electric—buzzing, vibrating. cheerleaders on the sidelines with cheeks smeared in blue & red paint. there’s the scent of hot dogs & fried food grilling. a crowd in jerseys with flags in their hands. in the kaisen campus stadium, the midsummer air is thick with anticipation. it’s game day.

sukuna sucks the air into his lungs. he hasn’t been to the stadium in a minute.

sato has run off to get some hot dogs. suguru and toru should already be in the AV room. the pitch has no football players but marching band members instead, drums and trombones blaring music across the grass. sukuna should go over to his and sato’s seats. instead he’s on the stairs, staring down at you.

is it fair for you to look this happy with him away from you?

he shakes the thought away. he always wants you to be happy—he thinks. but happiness with naoya? naoya zenin? he’s not quite sure about that. actually, he is. sukuna knows he’s fucking furious. he knows he doesn’t like the fact that you have naoya’s number on your back, or the fact that you’re jumping and cheering his name when the players haven’t even walked out yet. his jaw ticks. something ugly curls in his throat. he swallows it away.

he stares a little longer. watches your skirt swish around your thighs, watches your arms wave in the air, watches your hips sway to the music. you’ve clearly recovered and your dancing is out of tune as always, and sukuna bites back a smile.

he’s still smiling when you look up at him.

his face falls.

your head lifts towards him, and he doesn’t miss the way your body tenses. your arms drop to your sides. your palms curl into fists.

uh oh.

you look away, pausing for a moment. and then you trudge between bodies and make your way over to what sukuna can only assume is the concession stand.

sukuna follows. he doesn’t give himself time to think any better of it.

——

caramel popcorn and half-burnt sugar. the concession stand smells like caramel popcorn and half-burnt sugar.

and vanilla, but not the syrupy sweet kind. it’s the kind that sukuna smells whenever he kisses that spot below your ear, or presses his lips to the dip of your waist. at the concession stand, sukuna stands behind you with his hands in his pockets, pretending he doesn’t see the frown on your face as you stand in line in front of him.

“go away.” you deadpan.

“i’m here to eat.”

“You will choke on your food and die.”

harsh.

sukuna’s used to it though. so when it’s your turn to get a donut, he slips out his wallet and drops some cash before you can even protest. the stand worker takes the excess money with a grin. you turn to sukuna with a frown.

“what are you doing?”

your tone is mean but ryomen sukuna can’t take you seriously. your hair has ribbons tangled throughout it. you look so fucking cute.

he looks you in the eyes. “let me check your temperature. feeling feverish? at all?”

you only eye him in response. “stop caring about me.”

“can’t,” he mutters. “let me check it.”

he pads closer, and you’re still glaring daggers at him, but you don’t bite his palm as it cups your face. he pats the back of his hand against your neck, then your forehead, then your chest—and then his palm’s on your cheek again.

“you had six drinks that night,” he murmurs, thumb stroking your cheek. “was so worried. don’t like when you go over your limit.”

“i’m fine,” your voice is sharp—or trying to be. “don’t touch me.”

he shifts his hand into his pocket. “okay.” he says. “i’m gonna get you back.”

that sets you off. “i’m done with you, asshole!” you stab your finger into his chest. “i’m serious—no more on and off bullshit. i’ve moved on. i’m with naoya, for fuck’s sake. you just can’t accept that cuz of your stupid little ego!”

you’re still stabbing his chest. sukuna only watches you patiently, letting you yell to your heart’s content.

“and i hate you!” you tug his collar just to shove him away again. “i’m moving on. i’m happy now. so don’t try to act like you’re still my boyfriend!”

“sorry,” he trails off. he’s still watching you poke him with half-lidded eyes.

“i like your ribbons,” he murmurs. “you look pretty.”

“ugh!”

you storm off, and sukuna bites his cheek as your ribbons swing behind you. his hand finds the spot where you hit his chest and he sighs.

ryomen sukuna needs to get you back. and the sooner he does? the better.

———-

sato gojo has five bomboclat hotdogs in his lap.

how humongous! and worst of all, he refuses to share them with sukuna, who left his own food at the concession stand while his mind fixated on your face. you looked so pretty yelling at him. fuck. has he gone mad?

he shakes the thought away. he has his phone in his hands, facetime call with suguru on screen. toru gojo is setting up a monitor in the background with shaky hands. suguru has his phone at a poor angle and he’s humming into its mic with glee.

sato hooks his mustard-sticky chin over sukuna’s shoulder. “yo, sugu.” he says to the call.

“yo,”

“i have five hotdogs,” sato says humbly. “i’m saving a quarter for you.”

“love your generosity.”

“thank you, brother.”

sukuna shoves sato’s face away, ignoring the pout on his face as he rubs his still-bruised forehead. “suguru. how’s the prep going?”

“we’re all good here,” suguru says, turning the call camera to face toru and the set-up. “toru, you’re on video. say hi.”

“uh—hi!”

“hey, twin!” sato’s chin is back on sukuna’s shoulder. he frowns. “i didn’t save you any hotdogs.”

“that’s okay,” toru pushes up his glasses. “i don’t like hotdogs much anyways.”

suguru laughs behind the camera. “aww. i’ll get you a hotdog, buddy.”

“guys, focus.” sukuna pinches his nose. “the footage. is it ready?”

“yup,” suguru pops the p. just waiting for your signal.”

down on the pitch, the teams are lively.

the stadium is roaring. confetti everywhere, cheers and screams from fangirls and fanboys alike. the campus team jogs out in high spirits. and naoya zenin is there, golden boy of the season, arms in the air and waving like he’s the best thing since sliced bread. sukuna tries not to roll his eyes.

it’s a new season, and this one begins with a speech.

and who else to deliver it but the new captain, naoya? he has his helmet in his arm, grin wide, eyes gleaming. he stands on the podium with a mic to his mouth, and then he clears his throat.

his voice bellows. “GO PANDAS!”

the crowd roars. “go pandas!” sato cheers along. sukuna smacks his head.

“it is my honor, as the new captain of the football team, to welcome you all to the new season. kaisen university has suffered many losses. but this year, under my lead, i swear to you all—victory!”

the crowd roars again. sato is smart enough to not get caught up in the high spirits this time.

naoya raises a hand to calm the crowd. “but first off, i want to say a thank you to our alumni, sponsors, team—“

suguru turns the phone camera to himself, grinning. “i think this is the time?”

“your thinking is correct.”

“hit it, toru.”

toru fumbles with the control panel. he plugs in a mic, and suguru brings his mouth to the head.

“hey naoya,”

suguru’s voice crackles through the stadium speakers. the crowd stills. the football team on the grass is frozen in confusion.

“the alumni, sponsors, team you’re talking about,” you can hear the smile in suguru’s voice. “is it these ones?”

toru hits a button.

the big screen flickers.

the static shifts to a video. it’s one of those out of focus, wobbly snapchat ones, captioned ‘this guy’ with a bunch of laughing emojis. someone says something in the background. naoya scoffs.

“alumni? sponsors? they’re all a bunch of old has-beens with heart conditions,” he spits. “lousy fuckers with too much money. yet they can’t even buy us a trophy. idiots.”

but the video doesn’t end there. naoya is talking while he changes out of his uniform, focused on the locker in front of him. “and this shitty team,“ he bites. “dumb fuckers who would need help to wipe their asses. can’t follow instructions for shit. i see why sukuna fucking left.”

the video ends. all that’s left is the grey replay button on the screen. suguru shifts back away from the mic, holding his phone to his face. “holy shit,” he says into the facetime call. “we fucking did that.”

“yeah,” sukuna says. “we did.”

but he’s distracted. naoya is arguing with someone on field but sukuna doesn’t care to see what that’s about. instead his eyes are on you down near the pitch, your hands gripping the stands. he can’t tell if you’re confused, distraught, happy, sad. it’s fucking killing him. he needs to see your face.

sato climbs unto his chair. he cups his hands around his mouth. “GET HIM OFF THE FIELD!”

sukuna’s eyes widen in alarm, but others are already joining in. OFF-THE-FIELD! OFF-THE-FIELD! GET NA-O-YA OFF-THE-FIELD!”

on the pitch, naoya’s face flushes in embarrassment. “you sorry sacks of shit! do you fucking know who i am?!”

they’ll never know, because he never has the chance to tell. security guards are escorting him away before he even knows it.

sukuna’s eyes flit down the bleachers. back down to you. he finds you hopping at your seat, ribbons swishing as you chant along with the crowd.

OFF-THE-FIELD! OFF-THE-FIELD!

sukuna’s lip twitches. get him off the field.

———

“OFF-THE-FIELD! OFF-THE-FIELD!”

the chanting of the stadium is still buzzing in sukuna’s ears.

toru gojo left early, body aching with anxiety and in dire need of a nap. sukuna’s decided it’s about time to leave too—college football games aren’t really his thing anymore.

suguru and sato are geeking out over the whole thing behind him as sukuna trudges forward with his hands in his pockets. he’s half-smiling. he still can’t believe the whole scene had you chanting along and hopping eagerly in your seat. so cute. your ribbons were bouncing everywhere. so fucking cute.

“this is all your fault!”

sukuna knows that voice anywhere.

sato and suguru know it too. the smiles quickly leave their faces, brows knitting in alarm. the three quietly speed up towards the corridor, and the scene has sukuna seeing red.

“you dumb fucking whore,” naoya has you cornered against the wall. “all this shit because of you and your crazy, batshit boyfriend. ‘deal’ my fucking asshole. you see how they embarrassed me? because of you?”

sukuna’s already moving. but geto pulls him back. “listen.”

“you can’t pin this on me,” you try to keep your voice steady, but sukuna knows how your voice gets when you’re about to snap. naoya’s face is too close to yours for his liking. “you’re the one who said all that stupid shit. take some fucking responsibility.”

“responsibility?” naoya’s teeth curl. his breath is hot against your lip. “deal my fucking ass. this was your plan all along wasn’t it, stupid bitch? date me and get closer to me so you can sabotage me along with your boyfriend—”

“naoya,” your voice is dangerous. “i’m warning you, get back.”

“or what?” he spits in your face. “you’ll call your big bad boyfriend to save you? run to him like some stupid little whore—?”

you slap naoya silly.

and for a moment, sukuna’s shoulders un-tense. he’s been holding his breath the entire time, fingers curled into the wall, suguru’s hand on his chest stopping him from charging forward. but fuck, he’s proud. that’s his fucking girl. fuck. why’d he have to go and lose you?

but he can’t relax for long.

“you fucking bitch!”

naoya shoves you against the wall and you thud against it. sukuna doesn’t have to pry geto’s hand away—they’re already charging in.

naoya’s eyes widen as soon as he sees the trio. suguru swings. sato punches. but naoya dodges both, shoulder bumping into them as he slips between the two. he should be stopped by sukuna—but sukuna charges straight to your side, tugging you to his chest, breath heaving. naoya zenin escapes.

suguru and sato’s eyes flit towards the exit. their breathing is sharp, ragged. their eyes drift back to you in alarm. fuck. you’re more important.

sukuna hugs you to his chest, tight. his hand presses your head under his chin. he wants to pretend you’re not fucking shaking in his arms, but god you are, god—you are.

“you’re okay, baby,” he lies. your hand is fisting his collar like you want to pull him closer—or maybe push him away. “you’re okay. i’ve got you, you’re okay.”

you squeeze his collar. “ryo,” your voice is small, “don’t go after him.”

“i won’t baby, swear to god i won’t.”

but that’s just another lie. he presses your head further into his chest, palm heavy on your head. and then he mouths to suguru and sato:

GO. FUCKING. KILL HIM.

they don’t need to be told twice.

“ryo,” you whisper in his chest. “where are they going?”

“they’re giving us privacy,” he lies, and you’ll hate him for it tomorrow but he’ll settle for holding you today. he kisses your head. “are you hurt? hit your head? look at me.”

he can feel your lips jut out in his chest. “i’m fine.”

“i told you to look at me.”

you grumble, but oblige regardless. and god, sukuna’s heart aches. you have your chin on his chest, lashes tear rimmed, cheeks flushed and lips jut out in a stubborn pout. your eyes are glistening with wet. sukuna’s jaw aches.

naoya zenin has got to go to hell.

and he’ll send him there personally. he kisses your forehead, “gorgeous.” and then his thumbs wipe your lashes. “i’m gonna check if you’re concussed. do you have a headache?”

“this is so stupid,” you grumble. “i’m not concussed. and you know it.”

sukuna ignores you, cups your face in his palms. “what day of the week is it?”

“monday.” you grumble.

“gonna say some numbers, say them back to me in reverse,” he strokes your cheek. “four-two-four-two-five-six-four.”

you say them back perfectly. sukuna kisses your forehead. “good job baby,” he murmurs. “smart girl. does anything hurt?”

“no.”

“don’t lie to me.”

you rest the side of your face on his chest, pausing for a moment. then you raise a hand to grip his bicep. “my head hurts. just a little.”

“anything else?”

“i was scared,” you mutter, small. “i was so scared, ryo.”

naoya zenin has got to go to hell.

it’s the second time sukuna thinks that, but he shakes the thought away. he squeezes your hips. tilts your chin so you’re looking up at his face. your lashes are wet & your lips are wobbly & ryomen sukuna thinks you are grace.

“shh,” his thumb rubs your bottom lip. “you’re safe. you’re always safe with me.”

“i know,” your voice croaks as you nod.

“fuck, baby,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss your eyelids, nose, cheek, forehead. he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth. and then he finds your lips, tongue licking your mouth before he kisses you deep and slow.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs between your lips. “m’gonna kill naoya.”

“noo,” you whine, tugging his collar. “i told you not to do that.”

sukuna kisses his teeth, stepping back so he can hoist you up into his arms. his hands dip beneath your thighs to haul you up, and now you’re peering down at him through those sad, wet lashes. he kisses the pout off your lips. squeezes your thighs with his big hands. opens his mouth to say—

“i knocked that sucker out the park!”

sato and geto saunter back into the corridor, grins wicked, steps light. their knuckles are bloody and their jaws are bruised and their smiles are so bright they’re practically gleaming.

you turn to look at them. sukuna grabs the back of your head and pushes you into his shoulder. you pout into his neck as he keeps his palm heavy on your head.

sato is shadowboxing. “right hook—left hook—“ he punches the air. “clean hit to the jaw. taught the bloody wanker a good fucking lesson.” he fakes a british accent.

suguru nods, hands in his pockets & smile smug. “it was a good punch.”

“right?!”

sukuna’s lip tugs. he clicks his tongue as sato fakes punches at suguru, suguru dodging them with lazy laughter. sukuna clears his throat. sato and suguru perk up.

“take her to the nurse,” his voice is low. “make sure she doesn’t have a concussion.”

suguru steps forward and sukuna gently moves you into his arms. you frown up at suguru. “i’m not concussed.”

geto only chuckles, shifting your thigh over his arm to lift you better. “i don’t think so either. but your boyfriend runs a strict program, doesn’t he?”

“ex-boyfriend,” you bite. “and he’s not stricter than me.” “never,” suguru smiles. “you’re the strictest.”

sukuna scoffs behind you. sato just says he likes your ribbons.

he watches the boys leave with you. sato bouncing beside geto, you still arguing in suguru’s arms. but then he thinks about naoya. thinks about how he called his girl a whore, how he had the guts to shove you against a wall instead of just taking your slap like a fucking man. his jaw locks.

his feet are already moving. but then he remembers. don’t go after him.

he’s already broken that promise, already sent sato and suguru to beat him bloody. and he trusts his frat brothers, trusts they didn’t go easy on him. but his knuckles ache. he wants to beat naoya down so fucking badly.

but he knows if he sees naoya now, it will only end in death. and sukuna won’t be the one in the deathbed.

sukuna slams his fist into the wall. “fuck!”

SUGURU’S REMARK: CHILLL. WE CONTROLLED THAT

EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #3: ON THE OFFENSE !

taught by: toji zenin

‘want your girl back? then get fucking serious. stop playing her damn games and show her who’s the man.’

ΣΧ

“i have to kill naoya zenin.”

on toji zenin’s bedroom floor, ryomen sukuna’s jaw is tight. his hands dig into his thighs and suguru sits beside him with worried eyes. toji zenin is on the edge of his bed, running a brush through a jet black lace front wig. his son, five-and-a-half year old megumi zenin, sits beside him with a beach blond color 613 bone-straight wig on his head.

megumi tugs his father’s sleeve, voice flat.

“daddy, i have a buss down.”

toji doesn’t look up from his mannequin. “looks great, kiddo.”

toji zenin is twenty-four, stubble on his chin and single-ish student dad. single-ish because megumi’s mother left him when he turned twenty-one, but now he’s engaged to a pretty rich lady who sukuna still can’t believe forgave him for his lies. whatever—that’s a story for another day. even though toji’s girl is rich, he still insists on picking up odd jobs here and there to support him and meg rather than relying on her money. he’s currently working as a wig influencer for ISEEHAIR®.

on sukuna’s right, suguru has his hair in twin braids—courtesy of megumi zenin—and the same kind of ribbons you wore on game day—courtesy of SlayedBySato. he pats sukuna’s shoulder. “hey man, it’s okay. she’s okay.”

“you don’t fucking know that,” sukuna spits. “you don’t know it that bastard is still around her. i should’ve fucking killed him. slammed his skull into the wall back in the stadium.”

megumi blinks, gaze flat. he tugs his father’s sleeve. “daddy, is uncle kuna okay?”

“he’s in love,” toji answers, reaching for the hot comb. “makes you stupid.”

megumi nods, blond wisps of hair sticking to his cheek. then he stares at uncle sukuna for a bit longer before sliding his chubby body off the bed. “i’m gonna lay my edges.”

megumi zenin pads away.

suguru smiles after him. but then his smile dissolves, and he shifts his gaze back to sukuna. sukuna’s jaw is still tight, eyes glaring daggers at toji’s bedroom floor, and suguru elbows his side. “relax, man. brooding’s not gonna fix anything.”

“suguru’s right,” toji grumbles. “sato and suguru already beat him down. that didn’t make you feel better, did it?”

sukuna squints.

“you want your girl back? stop playing her damn games,” toji continues. “show her she can’t just keep playing around. you’ve embarrassed naoya, sabotaged him. all you’ve done is play along with her bratty lil’ antics.”

megumi’s voice comes from the other room. “daddy, can you help me lay my edges?”

“in a minute, kid.” toji doesn’t look up from the mannequin. “you want your girl? beat her at her own fucking game.”

sukuna grits his teeth. suguru slings an arm around him, braids swinging. “there’s a party for the football team tonight,” he says. “pretty sure y/n will be there again.”

sukuna swallows. thinks about it. and then the door swings open.

in comes sato gojo with megumi zenin in his arms. the five year old has wig edges laid, hair on fleek, and there is no doubt he’s been SlayedBySato.

sato’s grin is clumsy.

“did someone say party?”

# SHOW TIME !

at the party, the bass is so loud the speakers are moving.

not a lot—just a little—but the sound is so loud that sato is pouting as suguru helps him cover his ears. geto yells at some footballer to turn the music down. it takes them too long to comply.

sukuna is on a couch trying to ignore the babe curling herself into his side.

pamela? no—pairin. hair dyed mauve & flushed pink cheeks & a pretty nice rack—not that sukuna is looking. well he did look, he’s just a man and she’s got some pretty nice tits, but it’s okay. he still thinks yours are perkier.

pairin is trailing a hand up his thigh.

“ryo,” she coos. “it’s been forever. i’ve missed you.”

it has been forever. ryomen sukuna hasn’t slept with pairin, or any other girl for that matter, since he started dating you. yes you’ve broken up and gotten back together a hundred times, and technically when you’re broken up he’s a free man, but sukuna knows if he dared to touch another woman even when you’re not with him he’d never hear the end of it. so he’s always been patient. always waited.

which is why it’s not fucking fair for you to let naoya curl up behind you right now.

his eyes narrow. ryomen sukuna watches as naoya slips behind you at the bar, arm around your waist once again. fucking idiot. sukuna doesn’t even care about his arm on your waist instead of your hips anymore. once he gets his hands on naoya, he won’t even have an arm to begin with.

but sukuna doesn’t understand it.

he knows his girl. he knows you. he knows you bark more than you bite, he knows you’re bratty and stubborn and selfish and petty, and he knows men like naoya zenin are not your fucking type. he knows you would never put up with a man who would even yell at you—he found that out the hard way. so how could you let naoya touch you so casually after he dared to disrespect you?

are you really moving on?

he’s heard about it before. boundaries crumbling when people fall in love. is that what’s happening here? is naoya manipulating you? are you being pressured? can he kill him?

or do you actually—god forbid—like naoya?

sukuna scoffs. fucking hell if you do. he’ll kill naoya so you have no one to love. he’ll be damned if the man who steals your heart after him is one that doesn’t even know how to hold you right. naoya zenin will die today. ryomen sukuna will make sure of it.

“ryo,” pairin coos. when did her tits press against his chest?

she’s shifted so much that she’s practically on top of him, thigh digging into his hip. sukuna kisses his teeth. “don’t fucking call me that.”

pairin pouts, sliding a hand down his chest. “so mean. ever since you started dating that girl, you’ve become so mean to me.”

sukuna hears a laugh. it’s you, laughing at something the bartender says. another poor man who will be joining sukuna’s kill list. or maybe not, since you seem happy. you take a sip of your drink and frown when a drop lands on your chest. so cute.

pairin lifts a hand to shift his jaw back to her face. “you’re smiling.”

“yeah,” his voice is bored. “not at you.”

she frowns. “you used to be fun.”

“i used to be single.”

he still is right now, but not for long. never for long. he watches as you take another cup from the bartender. that’s drink number three. behind you naoya presses his face into your neck, and sukuna watches as you ease into him.

ryomen sukuna is blinded by rage.

he’s not quite thinking when he does it. he’s not quite thinking when he grabs pairin by the back of her neck, shoving her lips onto his. she squeaks, “mmph—!” as sukuna presses his lips against her. she tries to sneak her tongue past his lips. he keeps his mouth shut.

sukuna sees it.

he keeps his eyes open the whole time, and across the bar he watches your face lift. you’re laughing, you always are, but then your gaze drifts across the room to him.

the drink in your hand nearly drops.

you do that little thing where your chest heaves—anxious?—and your fingers curl tight around the cup in your hands. your brows furrow like you’re glaring but your lips are wobbly, oh god, they’re so wobbly—

he pushes pairin off his lap.

but it’s too late. you’re already off your chair, scrambling, and sukuna can’t see that well from this far but he knows your eyes are wet. he saw that tear slip down your cheek. he bolts for the exit but someone pulls him back by the shoulder—

“sukuna?” sato’s brows are knit. “what the fuck? what’s wrong man?”

sukuna’s chest is still heaving. his eyes are still on the door.

ryomen sukuna has lost the girl once again.

TOJI’S REMARK: NOT THAT KIND OF OFFENSE, IDIOT.

EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #4: SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE !

taught by: sato gojo

“girls like y/n? they like to keep things difficult. and your prefer it just like that, don’t you?”

ΣΧ

ryomen sukuna hasn’t left his room in days.

two weeks. it’s been two weeks since he kissed another girl and watched you leave with tears in your eyes. and sukuna’s disgusted. stomach against the mattress and head buried in a pillow. you’re pretty when you cry—you’re always pretty—but not so much when he’s the cause of your tears.

SlayedBySato is officially blocked by you on instagram. sato’s tried to come in to cheer sukuna up, but to no avail. sukuna won’t eat anything suguru cooks, or any food at all for that matter. megumi sometimes opens his door and stares at him with bored eyes before leaving. toru comes into his room to sit on the floor and read. he’s always shaky & anxious and glancing up at sukuna every five seconds when he does that, but he still comes in to offer his company anyways.

sukuna’s scrolling through his phone, eyes watching nothing in particular. he gets a notification. probably suguru offering him food. maybe just team snapchat. he ignores it. but then his phone chimes again.

[ mine🫀: OBLIGATIONS.docx ]

sukuna’s brows knit. you have him blocked. that can’t be you.

but he clicks the message anyways. and it is you, and the first thing that greets him is your profile picture. you’re smiling big into the camera, angle low & silly, and somehow you still manage to look bright and beautiful. sukuna swallows. scrolls down to your new messages.

mine🫀: i know what you did at that party was just to get my attention. mine🫀: since u wanna be pathetic i’ll give you more opportunity to do so mine🫀: OBLIGATIONS.docx

sukuna clicks the document. there are no greetings, no ‘to whom may be concerned’, no date or titles. just three things.

WRITE ME A LETTER OF APOLOGY. HANDWRITTEN.

CLEAR OUT EVERY ITEM IN MY SHOPPING CART. USERNAME: y/nthebaddest PASSWORD: d1cknballs11037

APOLOGIZE TO ME AND ADMIT TO YOUR PLANS OF SABOTAGE IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE CAMPUS, JUST LIKE IN YOUR STUNT ON GAME DAY.

his phone chimes again.

mine🫀: you have one week. if you want me back you’ll complete everything on this list. if u dc just ignore it. mine🫀: bye sukuna.

sukuna stares at the list. studies every word. contemplates each task.

and then he laughs.

yeah. that’s his fucking girlfriend.

# SHOW TIME

sukuna trudges into the frathouse living room with his laptop under his arm. at the center table sato is already there, humming contentedly while playing a game of monopoly by himself. he perks up when he hears the sound of the door.

“well, well,” sato sings. “look who crawled out of my grandfather’s ass.”

“what does that even mean?”

“ignore him,” suguru hums. he steps out from the kitchen with a plate of steaming hot jollof rice in his hands. he scoops some with his spoon, blows on it, and offers a bite to sukuna. “here, try some.”

“mm,” sukuna murmurs, leaning down for a bite. it’s hot, chewy—but then sukuna frowns.

“there’s no maggi in this rice.”

geto’s face falls. “no more food for you.”

whatever. sukuna sits at the center table, setting up his laptop right over sato’s monopoly game. he ignores sato’s protests as he opens up your shopping cart. “she sent me a list.” he announces. “of stuff i have to do if i want her back.”

suguru slides in at the opposite side of the table, brows raised. “show us.”

WRITE ME A LETTER OF APOLOGY. HANDWRITTEN.

CLEAR OUT EVERY ITEM IN MY SHOPPING CART. USERNAME: y/nthebaddest PASSWORD: d1cknballs11037

APOLOGIZE TO ME AND ADMIT TO YOUR PLANS OF SABOTAGE IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE CAMPUS, JUST LIKE IN YOUR STUNT ON GAME DAY.

sato blinks at the screen. “dick n’ balls,” he smiles wide. “i love your girlfriend.”

“tread lightly.”

suguru squints at the last item. “this is bad. she’s saying she wants you to confess in front of the whole school? like on game day?” his eyes lift to sukuna. “the dean might actually suspend you if we pull something. you know how much trouble i got in when they heard my voice on the speakers?”

“i had to pay him out of trouble,” sato shudders. “and it wasn’t cheap.”

sukuna frowns. if sato’s complaining? it definitely wasn’t cheap.

but sukuna only opens up your cart, taking in the items on screen. he’s not surprised when he scrolls through the items. lingerie from bordelle & agent provocateur, bags from dior and bottega vennetta, shoes, makeup—the high end kind—and then a bunch of sex toys, also unnecessarily overpriced. his lips tug when he notices a pair of lacy black panties. he already knows that’s for him.

or it could be for naoya to fuck you in, so his face falls.

sato slumps against sukuna’s shoulder. “wow. pricey stuff.”

“she likes nice things,” he mutters, double checking the items. he makes sure everything is in CAD and not USD, and then he checks out. nearly $5000 on clothing, accessories, lingerie. CIBC sends him a notification for possible fraud on his card immediately. he clicks no, this was me.

suguru whistles. “well, that’s that.” he leans back on his palms. “on to task number two?”

——

sukuna taps his pencil against the paper in front of him. “how do i spell exquisite.”

“e-s-q, u-z-t,” sato answers proudly. “all you have to do is sound out the vowels. i learned that trick back in freshman year.”

“there are no vowels in what you just spelled.”

suguru drags a palm over his face. he watches as sato strokes his chin, both he and sukuna staring at the half-empty letter with intense focus. he’s not sure whether to start with explaining to sato that this is not the spelling of exquisite, or if he should let sukuna know that ‘e’ and ‘u’ are indeed vowels.

he chooses to do neither. “sukuna, what do you need the word ‘exquisite’ for?”

“i need to tell her her ass is exquisite.”

“in her apology letter?”

“Yes.”

oh, okay. actually no—it’s not okay. suguru pinches his nose. “this is an apology letter. what does her ass have to do with this?!”

“she likes when i say nice things about her body,” sukuna mumbles, low. geto softens. that’s actually sweet.

“i’m gonna tell her i like her nipples.”

suguru snatches the letter from his hands.

he makes the mistake of letting his eyes drop to the poorly written text, and he’s reading it in his head before he can think any better of it: Hello, I am sorry. Your ass is esquizit. Come back to me. Nipples.

“jesus fucking christ,” suguru breathes.

sukuna scowls at him. “you didn’t let me finish the last sentence.”

sato hugs his knees. “i like this letter.”

suguru ignores them. he puts the letter aside, and tears out a new sheet of paper from the notepad on the table. “look, ryomen. i know you’re not good with words. and i know y/n it’s important to you. so we’re gonna help you.”

sato leans back on his palms. “yup, we are.”

“i meant i’m gonna help him,” suguru glares at sato. “tell me what’s on your mind. what you think. what you feel in your chest when you think about her. if she looked you in the eye and told you she was upset about all you’ve done, what would you say to her?”

sukuna scowls at nothing in particular, pondering. “i’d kiss her.”

“that’s what you would do,” suguru wags his pencil. “what would you say?”

sukuna thinks a bit harder. he thinks about how you look when you’re sad, how you don’t laugh, how your bottom lip juts out in that wobbly pout that makes his stomach hurt. he thinks about how you’d cuss at him before the tears fall, and then you’d grip his collar while spitting teary insults, before collapsing in his chest and letting him kiss your cheek till you quiet down. sukuna thinks very hard.

“i’d tell her i’m sorry,” he says. “and that i hate it when she cries.”

suguru nods. “go on,”

“i’d tell her i was scared,” he murmurs. “of her moving on. of her finding someone better.” he breathes. “i don’t want her to be with anyone that’s not me.”

suguru and sato stay silent.

“i don’t even care about naoya,” sukuna’s voice is tired. his palm slides over his face. “i just want her to be with me.”

“aww,” sato coos.

“shut up.”

but sukuna doesn’t shove sato away when he leans over to hug his head. sato pats sukuna’s face into his chest. “suguru,” sukuna mutters. “can you say that i miss her?”

“already did.”

suguru turns the paper around to reveal the words. sukuna squints to make out the words behind the pretty cursive.

dear y/n, i know i've said sorry a thousand times. i know it doesn't mean much coming from me. but i mean it. i'm sorry for the party. i'm sorry for kissing someone else. i'm sorry for making you cry. i hate it when you cry, hate when i make you sad. i hate it when you look at me like you don't trust me anymore. i was scared. scared you were moving on. scared you were finding someone better. i was scared i was losing you for good. i don't care about naoya. i don't care about other women. i don't care about any of it. i just want you. i want to earn you back. i want to earn your trust. i want to be the person you deserve. i love you. i've never loved anyone else like you. i don't want to love anyone else. please give me a chance to prove it. — sukuna

sukuna blinks at the letter. “i sound pathetic.”

“you are pathetic,” suguru sets it down. “for y/n at least.”

he is, isn’t he?

suguru taps his pencil against the table. “so, do you like it? or shall we draft a new one?”

sukuna thinks about it. sato is still patting his head.

“nah,” he says. “it’s perfect.”

SATO’S REMARK: OH WE’RE SO GETTING HER BACK

EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #5: HAVE YOU EVER APOLOGIZED WITH YOUR LIFE ON THE LINE ?!

taught by: nanami kento

“this is the stupidest plan i’ve ever heard.”

ΣΧ

the letter is done. the shopping cart is cleared. but the boys of sigma chi can’t rest just yet.

they do so anyway. suguru is sprawled lazily on the couch, legs spread and popcorn bucket in his hands. sato has his cheek on geto’s chest, curled up beside him. and even sukuna is leaning into the warmth, legs crossed on the floor and his head against suguru’s leg. the tv is playing something none of them truly care about.

suguru takes a bite of popcorn, teeth sticky. “how the fuck are we gonna pull off the last task?”

sato tosses a kernel into sukuna’s open mouth. “i have no idea.”

suguru pops another kernel between his lips, and then feeds a bite through sato’s open mouth on his chest. “before we even get to that—i’ve been thinking. what about that deal naoya mentioned? back in the stadium?”

sato and sukuna perk up.

sukuna’s jaw ticks again. he’s tried not to think about it. tried not to think about how naoya dared to raise his voice at you, how he dared to shove you back in his anger. he licks his canines. his chest is hot.

“i’ve been thinking about it too,” sato says. “ i have a theory.”

“uh oh.”

“don’t be mean,” sato pouts, and suguru pulls his cheek lovingly. he leans off suguru’s chest, palms still on his shoulders for balance. “my theory? y/n wants to make sukuna jealous. naoya wants him jealous too. boom. they work together and date.”

suguru nods. “but now, naoya thinks y/n is dating him so she and sukuna can work together to trash his reputation,” he muses. “and so he’s treating her badly.”

sukuna’s nails dig into his palms.

he knew you wanted him jealous—that’s obvious. but the thought of his stupid antics putting you in danger? with naoya? fuck. you’re a sharp girl. but you’re all bark and no bite. what the fuck is he supposed to do if naoya even thinks of disrespecting you again?

he speaks up. “back at the party. the one we went to after the game,” he bites his cheek. “i saw her with him again. that’s why i got mad. kissed that pamela bitch.”

“pairin.”

“i don’t give a fuck.” sukuna grumbles. “but that’s not what tripped me up. she was with naoya again—even after how he treated her.” his fingers dig into the couch. “she drags me by the ear when i raise my voice just slightly. why would she stay by naoya after all that? just to make me jealous?”

geto thinks out loud. “what if he has something on her?”

the boys go quiet.

for you to stay with someone like naoya, genuine or not? sukuna knows it must be something serious. he leans off the couch, turns to his boys.

“we need to start planning that final task.”

# SHOW TIME !

“kenny,” suguru begs. “please. we need your help.”

nanami pushes up his glasses. “immediately no.”

the theatre hall is humongous.

thousands of students fitted into velvet seats. there’s some ceremony today—what it’s about, sukuna doesn’t know—but he knows it’s the only opportunity he has to fulfill your last task. the next gameday is a week away, past the one week timeframe you specified.

sukuna also knows you’re in the crowd. he’d seen you sitting close to the front. right next to naoya.

god, you looked gorgeous. low cut top that exposes your plush breasts because you have no sense of time and place. skirt short as always, bunched up around your thighs, and lashes fluttering. bored. you looked hopelessly bored and beautiful next to naoya, and it wasn’t till shoko slipped into the seat beside you that your glossy lips smiled again. fuck. sukuna hopes he’ll get to speak to you soon.

but right now, he and the boys are trying to convince nanami to let him show up on stage in place of presenting his speech.

they’re all backstage. sigma chi treasurer nanami kento is sat at a makeshift desk, tie pin straight, expression flat as usual. “i will not allow you to take over my speech in the name of love and sacrifice. this is the stupidest plan i’ve ever heard.”

“nanaken, you’re not listening,” sato shakes his shoulders. “this is a matter of life and death—our last chance to help sukuna get his girl back.” sato pleads. “if we don’t succeed, he’ll be depressed!”

“i won’t be depressed.”

“he’ll be depressed!”

nanami only pinches his nose.

“look,” suguru starts, leaning over the table with his palms. “let’s make a deal. you let us crash your speech? sato buys you all the BL manhwa you want.”

nanami perks up. “BL?”

sato frowns. “sato?”

“exactly,” suguru says. “i know you’re tired of reading semantic error on a screen. we’ll get you all the physical copies—and whatever other BL you have on your reading list. all you have to do is let us crash your set.”

nanami thinks about it. thinks about how nice it’d be to see jang jaeyoung on a page, how he’d be able to have the story right there between his fingertips. he thinks about it. ponders hard.

and then he nods. “you’ve got yourselves a deal.”

——

each speech passes by way too fast.

well honestly, not fast enough. the audience is snoozing. they forget to clap after some speeches, and in the crowd sukuna can see you watching, bored. you have your head against shoko’s shoulder, phone in your hands. a man in a suit walks up to the stage to remind the audience of ‘etiquette’ and ‘keeping their phones away’. you roll your eyes and take a selfie with shoko, lips puckered out.

god, he misses you.

he closes the backstage curtains. suguru is waving his speech around. “you’re up next, man. you ready?”

sukuna swallows. why the fuck does he feel anxious? sukuna doesn’t do anxious. angry? horny? yes. but anxious?

he swipes the speech from suguru’s hands. “yeah. m’ready.”

———

sukuna is not ready.

but he’s not anxious either, so that’s a win. his body’s vibrating with something he can’t quite name. the audience is clapping away as the current presenter leaves.

suguru claps his back. “go.”

and go he does. he rips the velvet curtains apart and trudges his way to the podium. his hands are in his pockets and his gaze is bored and through the corner of his eyes all he can see is you you you.

you, with your brows furrowed and lips in a pout he wants to kiss off. you stare after him with big eyes, before your eyes go even bigger. he watches you facepalm.

that shouldn’t make him laugh. he sets his speech on the podium.

in the audience, shoko is nudging your shoulder. “girl. isn’t that your man?”

naoya turns to frown at her. “excuse me?”

you and shoko ignore him. “i have no idea what he’s up to.” you lie.

on the podium sukuna clears his throat. the TVs overhead are zoomed in on his face. his hair is golden-red under the lights, and sweat glistens on his skin, and sukuna takes in a deep breath.

“my name is ryomen sukuna, and i’m the previous captain of the pandas football team.”

some people whistle and cheer. others watch in silent confusion. naoya is gritting his teeth beside you and shoko is squeezing your thigh.

“i’m here to make a confession in light of recent events within our campus community,” sukuna murmurs into the mic. god, fuck geto suguru and his pretty cursive. sukuna can’t read shit.

“at the first game of the season,” sukuna clears his throat. “there was a video broadcast that interrupted the flow of the ceremony. i profusely apologize for that,” he says. “i was the one responsible.”

gasps fill the arena.

“it’s unsportsmanlike, i know.” he adjusts the mic. “whether the contents of the video are honest or not, to broadcast them during the ceremony was uncalled for and inappropriate. i had no good or honest intentions behind it.” he grits his teeth, eyes leaving the script.

“i wanted to embarrass naoya.”

the crowd is silent, and sukuna finds your eyes.

you’re looking right at him with an expresssion he can’t make out. beside you naoya is there, arm around your seat, and anger seeps into his chest. naoya has a black eye—he’ll have to thank suguru and sato for that. he’ll also have to give him a matching one on his left eye.

he continues his speech.

“naoya zenin, captain of the pandas, stole my girlfriend.” he spits into the mic. “so i chose to embarrass him publicly. that’s it. that’s my reason.”

the audience is muttering, talking amongst themselves. some people have their phone’s up, recording. some are enraged. some girls are swooning.

“y/n l/n—fuck,” he spits into the mic, gaze bleary. he’s gripping the podium with both arms now, head down and away from the cameras. “evil fucking girl,” he murmurs.

“you don’t want him, baby,” he breathes against the mic.

“come back to me.”

the theatre is silent.

and then it roars

single ladies. girlfriends. boyfriends. members of the football team who miss life under sukuna’s reign. they’re all cheering for him, loud and unrestrained. clapping as sukuna grips the podium with his eyes on the hardwood. the headlights flash on his face and he squints to look past them, eyes lifting towards the audience.

you’re not at your seat.

why?

did you miss the end of the speech? sukuna blames himself. he didn’t even have the guts to look up at you as he breathed out the last line, and now he’ll never know if you heard the very words he’s been wanting to say. sukuna almost laughs. his eyes are hot but he almost laughs.

the audience is still roaring. sukuna rips his speech off the podium and walks off the stage.

NANAMI’S REMARK: SO ALL THAT FOR WHAT?

BOYFRIEND TACTICS #1: NEVER LOSE ME.

taught by: y/n l/n

“never had a bitch like me in your life”

❤︎⁠

when sukuna trudges through the curtains, sato and suguru are already there.

faces flushed, chests heaving. “holy fucking shit—“ suguru pulls sukuna’s head into his arms. “you fucking did that.”

he did. so why does he feel so damn empty?

sato is practically bouncing, worming his way into the hug. “you did that!” he cheers. “did you see y/n’s face? was she cheering too—?”

“she left.”

sato and suguru freeze.

suguru pulls away first. sukuna’s face is dull, downcast—and his eyes are dark and soulless. “oh no—” suguru mutters. he holds sukuna’s face. “did you see when she left?”

“no,” he murmurs. no, he didn’t.

“fuck,” sato curses. “fucking hell, man—isn’t this low? even for her?”

suguru pulls sukuna’s head back under his chin. sukuna doesn’t resist or protest. just stares at the wood floor with empty eyes. but then a voice calls his name.

“ryomen sukuna. are you brooding?”

if god liked him, it would’ve been you. standing there in your short skirt and skimpy top and a teasing smile on your lips. mocking his misery. grinning up at him.

but instead it’s shoko ieri, brown hair under a bucket hat.

under normal circumstances, he’d be happy to see her. sukuna likes most of your friends. they’re all pretty party girls like you, a bunch of twenty-something year olds who think life is about bourbon glasses and friday mornings passed out in the backseat of someone’s car. they’re wild but they’re all nice girls, and they’re good to you so that’s fucking that.

but he doesn’t want to see your friends. sukuna wants to see you.

suguru brushes sukuna’s hair back. “shoko. to what do we owe the pleasure?”

“relax, geto. i’m not here to cause trouble,” she hums, leaning against a beam. “just here to pass across a message.”

she muses. “backstage dressing room. one-hundred two, not hundred and one,” shoko recites. “i have to leave now, but don’t be late. and sukuna,” she pauses to look at him. “no backup. just you.”

she turns away with a lilt in her steps, and the boys of sigma chi are left staring at each other in confusion. the message is clear though, and sukuna wipes his face.

room 102. got it.

# SHOW TIME !

ryomen sukuna comes in alone.

the door to room 102 pushes open with a creaak. the dressing room is racks and racks of clothing, some on the floor, some strewn across tables, and mirrors upon mirrors. the vanities still have their lights glowing orange. the room smells like rust and girl.

sukuna finds you in front of a mirror.

you’re checking yourself out, neon pink feather boa around your shoulders. on your head is a comically large sun hat, and there’s a bright green belt flung around your waist. you don’t look up when he walks in. just shift your hips in the mirror, skirt swishing around your thighs.

“you like my outfit?” you hum, still facing the mirror.

you look silly. if he was in a better mood, he’d probably smile. but instead he trudges forward and leans back against the table behind you. “yeah. looks cute.”

“hmm,” you fit your hands over your hips. “i still feel like it’s missing something.”

sukuna stays quiet.

you walk over to a bunch of boxes, pulling out all sorts of costume pieces. your tone is sing-song. “i heard your little speech.”

sukuna plays with the bracelet on his wrist. it’s not a bracelet. it’s one of your bra straps, actually, and he’d forgotten he put it on before the speech. it’s suddenly itchy against his wrist. “you liked it?”

“i thought it was cute,” you hum, inspecting a tie. you walk over to him, and sukuna spreads his legs a bit so you can slip between his thighs. you hold the tie up to him. “can you help me?”

he takes the tie from your hands. fits it over your neck quietly. he’s folding the ribbon around your neck, pretending he can’t feel your breath on his lips.

he murmurs, “i don’t understand what you’re doing, baby.”

his palm leaves your tie to cup your cheek. your gloss smudges against his palm. “what do you mean? i’m getting dressed up.”

his thumb strokes your cheek. “please don’t play dumb.”

you snuggle into his palm, humming contentedly. sukuna’s thumb still strokes your cheek. his other hand has come up squeeze your hip, then snake around it, then pull you closer into him.

“i’m sorry,” he breathes against your lips.

“for what?”

“for kissing another girl,” he murmurs. “for even looking at her. for being difficult. always giving you a reason to turn around and leave, then begging you to come back.” he cups your face.

“i love you. i’ve never loved any girl the way i love you.”

you trail a palm down his chest. “come back to me,” you repeat his speech.

“come back,” he murmurs, hands sliding up your spine. “come back to me, baby.”

you giggle as he leans closer to steal your lips. ryomen sukuna tastes like strawberry and spearmint.

Y/N’S REMARK: GUESS WHO’S BACK <3

COUPLE TACTICS #1 : DICKMEDOWN—WHO SAID THAT?!

taught by: ryomen sukuna’s cock

“there is no quote. i am a cock.”

❤︎⁠

in ryomen sukuna’s bedroom, he has his back against the headboard and his girlfriend in his lap.

you’re half naked. clad in nothing but a lacy bra and matching black panties, giggling as you pose into his macbook camera. you lift another bra up to check it against your chest. ryomen sukuna squeezes your thigh.

“you like this one?” he murmurs behind you, reaching his hand up to grope your breast. “wasn’t in the cart. added it myself.”

“it’s so pretty,” you coo, lashes fluttering. “thank you, ryo.”

“you’re welcome, princess.”

it’s just two days after the whole speech at the theatre. ryomen sukuna watches you with bleary eyes. he leans back against the headboard, watching as you shrug off your bra to try another one he bought. he reaches up to graze his thumb over your pebbled nipple and you giggle, before sliding backwards to lean back against his chest. he squeezes your tits in his palms before kissing your cheek.

“love this set,” he murmurs against your ear. he’s twisting your nipple in one hand & the other is already sliding down over your belly, down to your lacy black panties. “so pretty on you.”

“mmh,” your thighs squeeze as his hand slips below the fabric, finding your wet, aching clit. he rubs the pad of his thumb over it in circles. kisses your cheek again when you whine.

“missed you,” he murmurs. “so bad, pretty.”

“mhm,” you breathe. you want to bite back with something sassy but ryomen sukuna is kneading your breast while his thumb fingers your clit. he slips in another finger and rolls the bud between them. your thighs squeeze around him.

“ryo,” you purr. “you’re gonna get them dirty.”

“i know,” he shushes you. “just wanna feel you.”

and feel you he does. he pushes your body up on his chest and latches his hot mouth around your nipple. “mmh—,” he groans, tongue swirling around the pebbled peak. “fuck, missed this.”

his fingers rub harder against your clit. faster, faster, until your hips arch of the bed and your thighs shake around him. he can already see slick coating your inner thighs, and your moans in his ear only make him rub harder. “fuck,” he curses. fuck fuck fuck.

your lashes go sticky with tears. your clit is wet and throbbing around his fingers. your thighs shake as you reach your high, and sukuna has to shove his lips to yours to quiet your moans. he licks his tongue into your mouth, hot and wet and sloppy, palm settling to gently rub your clit through your high.

you gasp, pulling away. your lashes are sticky & your cheeks flushed hot. “i missed you.”

he kisses you again, soft. “missed you too.”

he slips your panties off your thighs, holding your naked body against him. “missed this pussy too,” he rasps. “gonna stuff you till you’re cumming on my cock.”

you squirm against him, swatting his chest as he unzips his trousers. “but i just came!”

“you’ll come again, pretty.”

he fumbles with the zipper, slipping out his heavy, hard cock. his cockhead is throbbing and sticky with precum, and he shifts you forward so your back is against his chest.

“go slow,” you whimper, already nervous.

he kisses your shoulder. “you don’t want that.”

and you don’t. you arch into him as he slips his cock into your puffy, slick-coated folds from behind. he smears precum and slick over them with his cockhead, kissing your shoulder as you shiver against him. “relax, you’re okay. you still on the pill, baby?”

you nod shyly. he kisses your neck.

sukuna’s cock is thick. heavy and swollen and pulsing between your slobbering foods. he pushes his hips into you, letting your pussy squelch around him, and his arm fits under your body so he can grope your perky breasts. he tugs on a nipple before rolling it between his fingers. fuck.

you whimper as his cock stretches you out, sliding deeper and deeper into your folds. “fuck,” he breathes against your ear. “you’re so fucking hot. so tight. so wet.”

you whimper as his fingers find your clit again. he circles it hard, hips bucking to push his cock deeper into you before sliding back out, palms still fondling your breasts. it’s too much, it’s too fucking much, and he can hardly blame you for whining against him. “ryo—”

“shh—you’re good, you’re doing so good,” he rasps as you clench around his cock. “so fucking good. you know how good you feel around my cock, baby? m’so fucking lucky—.”

he’s shushing you but his hips only buck faster and faster. your eyes squeeze shut as he breathes. “fuck, gonna cum—“

your walls quiver around him as you come together, white hot cum stuffed between your folds. you groan, ragged, as sukuna pants into your neck. he kisses your shoulder before resting his head against your neck.

“i love you,” he rasps.

“i love you too.”

you stay like that for a moment, holding each other before he kisses your shoulder. “let’s get you cleaned up.”

——

“you have a lot of explaining to do.”

sukuna comes back with new shorts hanging low on his v-line. he has a warm cloth in his hands, and he climbs over your sore body. even now you’re still smiling up at him, lashes fluttering, cheeks flushed. “whatever do you mean?”

“don’t play dumb,” he kisses your cheek before gently nudging your thighs open. he slides the cloth down your inner thigh, ignoring the way you reach up to thread your fingers through his hair. “you have to explain. why you went to naoya.”

“but what if i don’t want to?”

“you will,” he says. he slides your panties up your thighs, pressing a kiss to your clit before slipping them all the way up.

but then he changes his mind. slips your panties down again.

“ryomen.” you’re already sitting up.

“relax,” he mutters against your puffy cunt. “lean back for me.”

you sigh, doing as he says. he licks a stripe up your glistening folds. he can taste himself on your stuffed cunt but his tongue keeps moving regardless. he pulls back, lips glistening with slick.

“you’re gonna tell me exactly what your fucking plan was,” he sucks on your bud, letting go with a pop. “why i saw you again with naoya after he dared to fucking talk to you like that.”

“so strict,” you whimper, cheeks puffed as your hips arch into him. “i can date anyone i want.”

“no,” sukuna hisses. “you can only date me.”

“mmh—” you moan as his tongue slobbers over your glossy folds. you run your fingers through his hair as your pussy drools onto his tongue. “mmh—wanted to make you mad,”

“you did good,” he sticks a finger into your cunt and you gasp, loud. he’s knuckles deep now, pumping his finger in and out of you. “hah—wanted you jealous,” you moan. “we were gonna get revenge.”

his fingers curl so hard you cry his name.

you whimper and he ignores it. “was already jealous. why’d you go back to him after he touched you?”

he curls his fingers again. “ah—! sorry, i’m sorry,” you cry, lashes wet. feels so good. “we weren’t dating for real. just showed up in public together. he said we couldn’t stop, said if we did that meant you won,” you whimper. “he apologized, let me punch him. i gave him a—hnngh—black eye.”

ah. so the black eye naoya had wasn’t from sato and suguru.

sukuna swirls his tongue over your clit, lapping and sucking as he pumps another finger into your drooling pussy. he curls them until he’s pressing into that spongy part that makes you sob, and he sucks gingerly as your pussy sputters and spits slick into his mouth. “ryo—m’gonna cum—”

your thighs shake, walls clenching. sukuna pumps his fingers in faster, letting your thighs squeeze his neck. you cum over his mouth, right around his fingers, and sukuna kisses your puffy, still-sensitive clit.

when he looks up at you, you’re glaring. eyes glistening wet, cheeks flushed. pretty.

“what?” he says. “you’re so mean,” you frown. “you see why i break up with you?”

sukuna huffs, climbing over your figure. when he’s right above you, you tug his neck down.

“i love you,” you mumble.

he kisses your lips. “i love you too.”

COCK’S REMARK : *HARDENS*

EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #6: BREAK THE CYCLE !

taught by: ryomen sukuna

“loving you is a loop.”

ΣΧ

in toru gojo’s room of his apartment, the boys of sigma chi are all there. oh—and you too, of course.

sato is fast asleep on his twin’s bed, laid down & drooling on suguru’s shoulder beside him. suguru is tapping at his nintendo switch with furious speed. toru is cooking up something in the kitchen. and on his PC, you and sukuna are there, suguru’s sims 4 game loaded up on screen.

you’re on sukuna’s lap, his arm looped around your hips as you rant about the many tribulations you had to endure while ‘dating’ naoya. you’re customizing sukuna’s sim for your save file, and said man is doing nothing but rubbing your thighs and pressing lazy kisses to your skin.

“—and he leaves his boxers everywhere!” you exclaim, scrolling through geto’s CC folder. “i had to come over after he had practice once and they were everywhere. it’s that bad!”

“mhm,” sukuna kisses your neck, love drunk & bleary-eyed. “so bad, baby.”

“he’s so unhygienic,” you shift in sukuna’s lap, and he squeezes your hips to keep you steady. “i told him to at least clean up if he knows i’m coming over. he said no!”

sukuna nuzzles your ear, squeezes your thigh. “mm. m’gonna kill him.”

“no you will not! stop threatening murder!”

sukuna looks up. you’ve turned your head over your shoulder to glare at him, and he looks up at you through bleary eyes. your cheeks are warm. lashes fluttering. you’re the prettiest headache he’s ever had.

he kisses your jaw. “missed fighting with your pretty face,” he murmurs. “gimme a kiss, baby.”

you soften, and he leans up to kiss you deep.

“woah—” suguru throws a pillow at you both. sukuna swats it away from you without pulling back from your lips. he squeezes your waist and geto frowns. “even if sato’s asleep, i’m still fucking here!”

sukuna ignores him, his hand crawling up to grope your tits. suguru scowls, turns over to face sato’s sleeping figure. he should’ve known protesting was futile. sukuna’s always been an exhibitionist, but you’d think his therapy sessions would’ve taught him better by now.

sukuna pulls back, your gloss smeared over his lip & chin. you giggle at the sight, “hi.”

“mmh,” he nuzzles your neck.

the door swings open, snapping you and sukuna out of your daze. in comes toru gojo with a plate of lazy cake, glasses slipping down his nose. he blushes when he sees you and sukuna pressed close together. “hi. i made snacks.”

“oh, toru!” you purr. “you’re my favorite, have i told you that?”

toru sets down the plate on the desk in front of you. as he leans down you press a kiss to his cheek, and he blushes so hard his face turns beet red. he looks up, surprised, and you’re beaming at him. behind you, sukuna is scowling.

toru drops the plate and runs away.

you turn back to glare at sukuna. “you scared him.”

“no one’s allowed to kiss you.”

“i kissed him!”

sukuna ignores your protests, trying to cup your jaw so he can get a kiss of his own. you shove his face back, and he scowls.

“go apologize to toru,” you frown at him. “now.”

sukuna wants to protest. wants to say he’s comfortable right here with your thighs over his lap and your lipgloss on his chin. but he knows if he fights back he’ll be left with nothing but a sore earlobe & an angry girlfriend. he grumbles as you slide off him.

sukuna trudges to the kitchen, says his apologies. toru accepts them in a heartbeat.

when he comes back to the room, you’re gone.

“where is she?” his heart drops. “suguru—where is she?”

“chill,” suguru mumbles, eyes never leaving his switch. “she left you a letter. check on the desk.”

and next to toru’s plate of dessert, a letter is indeed there. he picks it up, thumb running over the paper. you’ve left a glossy kiss mark at the end.

‘dear sukuna,’ it reads.

‘i’m breaking up with you.’

sukuna’s blood runs cold.

‘i know we just got back together a week ago. but i thought about it! thought about how i’m becoming a better woman, growing in my spiritual journey. do i really want a jealous man who scares away my friends by my side??

so i decided: let’s break up. for real this time. it’s not you, it’s me. maybe if we’re truly meant to be, the stars will align and our paths will cross yet again. but for now? i have to choose me and my growth. so i’m leaving. for good.

i still love you though!! you’ll always be my lover <3 i love you soso much baby boy. i don’t even want to do this. but i know i have to make the right choice for both of us.

sorry to walk away like this. and don’t forget, you are not allowed to date any other woman!!! i am the only woman for you!! always and forever!! no dating, sex, kissing, touching, NOTHING. if i find out you even LOOK at another woman i’ll hate you forever!!!!!!!!!!!!

okay, that’s all. goodbye forever. i’ll always love you ryo <333333 i’m sorry it had to end this way.’

sukuna stares at the letter. he reads it once. twice. then once more.

and then he laughs.

because this is his girlfriend, bratty and high-maintenance and demanding and all. because you say goodbye forever, but he knows he’ll see you next week. he knows tonight you’ll call and say you miss his voice and afterwards you’ll send him a text saying you’re still not getting back with him and will be blocking him as a final goodbye. he knows you’ll unblock him on a random wednesday and won’t text, and he’ll just have to keep sending messages till they don’t turn green and he can ask you to come back to him.

and you’ll say yes. you always do. and if there’s anything or anyone who stops you from saying yes, he’ll crush them.

he rubs his thumb over the bottom of the letter. your glossy kiss mark is there.

and right beside it?

XO, YOUR EX HO 💋

SUKUNA’S REMARK: SEE U NEXT WEEK.

#SIGMA-CHI STORIES !

XO, EX HOE end.

XO HEARTKAJI. do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload.

[hathorverse]

Your tutor is your crush | m.list

In which himbo! Yuji has a big crush on you and it turns out that you’re his tutor!

yuji x tutor!reader | 18+ mdni | college AU | breast play| blackfem!reader

wc: 1,3 k

a/n: I don’t really know what happen but i do enjoy this! This is not proof read i’m sorry…

"You're in danger Itadori"

Yuji looks up at the deep voice right in front of him. He's chem professor. His blond hair is perfectly slicked back, rectangular glasses frame his bright blue eyes. The sun crowns his head like he is the messenger of a divine and mystical prophecy.

Did they know that Yuji was in great danger?

Perhaps.

"Mr Itadori."

Yuji snap his eyes on his professor and nod.

Yes, he's danger.

"If by the end of the semester you don't get better grades, you'll never get the opportunity for your career in hockey."

Good. Very good.

"But, Am I really in danger or…"

"Yes you are." Said firmly the professor. "And as you know, your parents talk to me too. We finally found a solution for you Itadori."

A solution? He talks like Yuji have a non curable sickness and he's going to die soon… he's just bad at chem, it's note the end of the world? Right…

"We found you a tutor."

"A what?" Repeats Yuji. "I… I'm not that bad!"

His professor just stare at him.

"Okay… maybe a little but I don't need a tutor!"

" Too late, she's already here."

As he said that, the door open and you enter in the office with a soft smile.

"Y/n?!"

Of all the people on this campus, Yuji's tutor is Yuji's biggest crush?

He started to feeling his heart slamming on his chest, his ears burns as he looks at you.

You're literally glowing under the sunlight. You're brown skin shine so brightly, and your smile… yes, this is Yuji's favorite feature of yours. Your smile that make him shiver.

"Hi Yuji"you smile and sit next to him.

"Miss l/n is going to give you lessons on Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays after you finish your day. You're going to study at the library for more comfort."

Yuji doesn't say a word. You're right next to him. Can you hear his heart pounding? Can you see his hands sweating?

Yuji has a crush on you for almost two years. All of his friends know this, even his older brother Sukuna know that. Everyone but you. Why? Because Yuji avoid you everytime you both are in the same room. He just get nervous and can't speak properly. So to avoid humiliation, he hides from you.

"You started the next Monday".

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ

It's been one mouth since you and Yuji started the tutoring. He tries his best to understand the program but you have to explain some problems with food and anime to get his attention. Sometimes you wondering how he did pass without help. 

Yuji has no choice but to stay close to you and he drives him crazy everytime that you shows up dressing with your mini skirts and shirt so small that he can see your boobs. 

Especially today. You choose to wear one of your leopard print mini skirt, showing off your long brown legs to everyone, and to Yuji. With a black shirt so tight that he can clearly see that you weren't wearing a bra…

The pink-haired men looks at you and blush so bad that he looks away. Feeling his pants begging to be uncomfortable. But obviously, you didn't notice a thing

"Hello Yuji!" You exclaim when you sit next to him.

"H-Hello…" 

"You're alright? Need some water?"

"U-Uh… no.. I-I just… Nothing"

"Okay…?" 

You look at him but he reach for his bag. That's weird. Did you do something wrong? 

Yuji take his books and you started to study. You try to explain to him but today, he seems off, like he's distracted by something. 

"Yuji? Are you okay? We can take a break if you want"

"I'm alright! I swear I wasn't looking at-" he stopped himself and you look at him with a skeptical look on your face. 

"What?"

"Hm?"

"What did you say Yuji? What were you looking at?"

"Nothing"

"Yuji?"

"Your boobs."

Silence. Neither of you is speaking. You look at him and he looks at you. 

"You were looking at my boobs?" 

"I… no…well… yes but…not in a weird way I just… oh my god this is embarrassing" He said. "I'm sorry. I-I…"

You watch Yuji turning more and more and… you find this amusing in a way? 

"You have to focus Yuji. If you want to see my boobs you have to finish your homework first."

"W-What? Are you being serious? Don't make fun of me please!"

"I'm not. You want to.."

"Please y/n don't say things like that you can't… I shouldn't look at you this way. It was very inappropriate and-"

"Do you wanna see my boobs or not?"

"Yes ma'am." 

"Great, you finish your homework and we go to my house." You say with a smile. 

Yuji does his homework and there wasn't a single mistake. So you left the library and took his car. You don't own a car yet so you walk or take the bus to go to the campus.

During the ride, neither of you say a word. You, because you try to not scream to think Yuji Itadori was watching you. 

Since the beginning of this tutoring, you start to find Yuji attractive, his deep voice, his Cologne, his smile… and you already see him playing basket with his friends. He's your type. And last weekend, you had your first wet dream about him. It's way very similar to what happened in the library. You two were studying and somehow, you ended bend over the table while Yuji fuck you without mercy. 

Yuji, on the other hand was trying to focus on the road and not looking to the beautiful girl sit in his car. He was really nervous to see you without clothes. Scared to not control himself. 

Too late, you were in front your house. Rapidly, you and Yuji were inside. Nobody was here so you guide him into your room. 

You close the door and let Yuji take all in. He looks at your bookshelves, your desk, your bed. Your childhood bedroom turn into a late teenager and your women bedroom. You glad you paint your walls lilac and not pink when you were 10. 

"Hm… so…"

"Right. You can sit on my bed, just take off your shoes please" you explain

You both take off your shoes and you watch Yuji sit on your bed. The same where you had your wet dream. 

Your ears turned red at the idea, but you push it to the side. You approach the pink-haired men and slowly you unbuttoned your polo. Yes your were not wearing a bras so when you take off your shirt, the cold air meets your sensitive nipples.

"Fuck… y/n" murmured Yuji.

" Do want to touch them?"

"Yes… fucking yes, please"

You smile and straddle him and he takes your breast in his mouth. The warmth of his tongue find your nipple and you can't help but moan. His soft hand find you other boob and you close your eyes, already wet. 

It's definitely better than your dream. 

"Y-Yuji…" 

Yuji play with your breast like a starving dog and you try to rub yourself against him. 

He understand and put you on the bed and finds himself on top of you without take his mouth out your boobs. You hands find his hair and you started to whine against him. 

"Yuji… please…" 

Seeing you calling his name made him short circuit so bad that he didn't think twice. He leaves you boob with a big plop!and looks at you.

"God sweetheart, if you continue to callin' my name, i might…"

You smile at him and close the distance between your heads and kiss him. Yes, he finally shut his mouth. Yuji respond. At first the kiss is sweet but when you let his tongue in your mouth, the kiss is more sloppy. 

You both break to take some breath and you look at him.

"You might what?" You ask him.

Yuji doesn't answer and kiss your cheek then your neck, you smile again and tilt his head.

"You're so pretty, so pretty sweetheart" 

He kisses you again and suddenly you realize that you want more.

More of him

[an9els]

you thought it’d be hot to risk getting caught— turns out it’s hotter when he’s trying not to lose his mind . . . mdni 18+

your bedroom door doesn’t even lock.

toji pointed that out the second he pressed you into the mattress.

and you had the audacity to smile up at him and say, “don’t worry. my parents sleep like the dead.”

you both knew that was a fucking lie.

and yet here he is— between your legs, inside you, both hands planted on either side of your head, trying sooo hard to focus, to keep it quiet, try not grunt everytime your pussy squeezes him like it doesn’t wanna let go.

he’s breathing through his nose, jaw tight, eyes flickering between your parted lips and your bouncing tits and the sheer innocence of your childhood bedroom. pink frilly bedsheets, a mountain of stuffed animals, a k-pop poster half-ripped behind his shoulder.

and then—

“mhm,” you whisper dramatically, arching your back, dragging your nails down his arms, “yeah, baby, ruin me~!”

he freezes. literally freezes.

his head drops.

“you’re—” a wheeze leaves his chest as his arms start to shake, “you’re such a little shit.”

“what?” you blink up at him with mock innocence. “was that too loud?”

“you’re doing it on purpose.”

“doing what on purpose?” you fake-gasp. “moaning? oh, daddy, right there—”

he slaps a hand over your mouth so fast you almost bite your tongue laughing.

“shut the fuck up,” he hisses through a grin, “before i actually make you cry.”

you whimper dramatically under his palm, all wide-eyed and needy, and he knows it’s all a game. you like pushing his buttons. testing his control. enjoy the thrill of maybe getting caught. even now, your legs lock tighter around his waist, trying to pull him deeper, shameless and soaked and begging for it with your body even when your mouth’s being punished.

toji leans in, voice low in your ear.

“you’re so lucky i’m already balls deep,” he mutters, thrusting just enough to make you gasp behind his hand, “or i’d flip you over and fuck you with a pillow in your mouth.”

your cunt clenches hard. you squeal into his palm.

his eyes darken.

“…you liked that?”

you nod furiously.

he groans under his breath— “fuckin’ brat.”

but he doesn’t stop.

he rocks into you harder, deeper, hand still covering your mouth, fingers splayed across your cheek as your muffled moans get higher and wetter. everytime the bed creaks, he curses and thrusts slower, rougher, meaner, just to make you squirm.

“gonna make a mess all over these sheets, huh?”

you try to say yesyesyes but all that comes out is a breathless little “mmghhh—!!”

toji smirks.

“what’s wrong? cat got your tongue?”

you glare at him. he thrusts particularly deep.

you go cross-eyed.

“that’s what i thought.”

you’re already so close it’s embarrassing. you didn’t even mean to get this turned on, but there’s something so hot about him trying to stay quiet for once. about the way he keeps biting back his groans. the sweat starting to bead on his temples as he mutters how tight you are, how good you feel, how much he wants to fuck a baby into you right here in your old bedroom.

you bite his palm when you cum.

and he laughs— low, breathless, feral. “ohh, you’re fucked.”

he doesn’t pull out.

he doesn’t stop.

he fucks you right through it— slow and deep and creamy, his dick twitching inside your spent cunt as you whine and twitch and suck him back in like your body wants him glued to you forever.

“better pray they’re not awake,” he grits, “’cause i’m not done.”

you blink up at him, dazed, flushed, lips kiss-swollen under his hand.

“…daddy?” you whisper again.

he slaps your thigh so hard it echoes.

“fucking menace.”

[blushryo]

perky perky ❤︎

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀toji's laying back against the headboard, an arm resting behind his head while his free hand is sweetly stroking the hair out of your face. your mouth is full with his thick cock, wrapped warm & tight around the shaft.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"keep going, doll." he coos, a quiet groan leaving his lips when you come back up to swirl your tongue around his flushed tip. "you're doing so well." he slowly pushes your head back down, grunting your name in a low tone as he slightly tips his head back.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀one of your hands ever so slowly comes up to caress his large chest, touch gentle & soft. it makes his breathing just the slightest more ragged, loving how your dainty fingers are trailing all over his skin, your nails lightly scratching his flesh leaving red marks all over him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀then you make the little mistake of grazing his nipple.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀it's quiet, nearly inaudible . . but you catch it. the way his breath had hitched & the way his voice had risen for a split second. so you decide to do it again & this time it's unmistakable — toji is whimpering . . whimpering!

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"s-stop that." he hisses（like you were going to listen to him though.）you're now rolling the perked up bud in between your fingers and you can tell he's doing his best to hold back his moans but they continue to slip out, the noises so pretty and like music to your ears.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, an indication that he's close. you pop your mouth off his cock and just before toji can complain about you giving him 'blue balls', your lips latch on to his nipple, flicking your tongue over the pink teats.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"fuckkk . ." he croons, ribbons of his cum spurting out of his dick and tainting his abs. his hips buck up instinctively as you keep on licking his nipples and you only let up when he physically pries you off of him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀you're smiling at him all giddy-like despite the frown carved into his features. "so this is why you never wanted me to touch your nipples~" you sing, a devious giggle following after.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"fuck me." he mumbles to himself, knowing full well you're going to use every waking second of the day to take advantage of this newfound weakness of his！

© DEARTOKKI

[nobodys-s0n]

A QUICK FIX. [18+] 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃

‎✧˚₊‧ being bruce wayne’s favorite lil call girl aka guilty pleasure

you didn’t know how you get intertwined with the billionaire; but one night after he saw your cute little ad in a fashion magazine with your face and body, he knew he had to get in touch with you.

you’re his favorite lil stress relief when he’s had a hard night as batman. you don’t know he’s the crime fighting vigilante who’s all over the news. you don’t even realize it because he’s fucking you too good to realize that the scars on his back and his forearms aren’t naturally caused by regular-day interference; he’s throwing his body to the wolves, and to your bedsheets.

“bruce! oh fuck! bruce!” you moan as his cock bullies in and out of you, his black hair messy and his hands holding onto the back of your neck and the headboard respectively as he fucks you.

he’s just… so busy and it takes a toll on him, so he uses all his anger and all his stress and he translates it into his thrusts into your sobbing cunt.

“fuckin’ take it.” he whispers, leaning down and pressing a kiss on the center of your spine. “you’re a good girl f’me, i know you can take it.”

deep down, he knows it’s wrong to just pay you money and fuck until his balls are empty. he knows it’s wrong to not give you more than just money and a quick orgasm— he should probably take you on a date, invite you out sometime, hell, even just reach out at a normal hour like a normal person— but he can’t help himself, truly. bruce can’t help himself when it comes to your cunt, he needs it like a bastard in a desert with no water.

you loved the way he fucked you, the way his dirty mouth echoed through your ear and pleasure seeped into your bones with no issue whatsoever. the bed rocked as he continued to thrust mindlessly into you.

“bruce! ‘m gonna— fuck! gonna cum!” you warn him, fingers digging into the pillow under you’re pushed and pushed closer to the edge of your orgasm.

he grinned above you, a small one but still a grin, as his right thumb strokes the back of your neck, his left hand gripping a good chunk of your ass. “come on, sweetheart, cum for me.”

it didn’t take you any more time to roll your eyes back and hit your orgasm, walls clamping down harsh on bruce’s thick cock as your body strained, pleasure flooding your senses.

and all bruce could do? continue the pistons of his hips and watch you with happiness (and try to avoid cumming in you) as his eyes soaked in the sight of you cumming all over his cock.

you're too dumb on his cock to realize he cummed in you-- far too ruined as he tucks you into bed, making sure your bedsheets were okay and tipping you a little extra-- and bruce is known to tip mighty well. he walks out of your apartment with a smile, no lingering guilt as he returns to his cave, his own personal cravings fulfilled.

of course when he hits you up all over again for a little 'stress relief?', you're going to have to reschedule with your other client to help the vigilante out!

click here for main masterlist! 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃

AUTHOR'S NOTE: call girls/stripper au’s— both male and female, are lowkey my guilty pleasure because i luv writing the male characters the strippers and the female characters the call girls. this originally was a lumax, stripper! lucas x stressed! max but love the idea of bruce wayne, especially pattinson’s reclusive bruce, resorting to call girls/strippers for sex, just a lil fucked up thought I love to think about a little too much…

thank you for all the support in every way possible! all support is very much appreciated! all content created on this blog is mine, do not copy or sent it through ai!

created by... nobodys-s0n! ™

[dahyunnieeee]

satoru’s love for your innocence ۶ৎ

cw: smut, dryhumping, panty rubbing, puritan kink, bestfriend!satoru, teasing, satoru’s an asshole

⋆˚࿔ not proofread

you came to satoru’s house with the intent of asking him a question that has been lingering in your mind for days.

you’re a virgin. a virgin who’s only had one boyfriend who you soon broke up with because you wouldn’t do anything with him.

satoru was there the entire relationship, taking every chance he could to tell you to breakup with him.

he never liked him anyways. he didn’t think anyone was good for you—besides him, of course. he was your beloved best friend after all.

and because of that—you trusted him deeply. he may be untrustworthy when it comes to telling the truth about your snacks disappearing, but when it’s serious, you know he’s there.

you wanted to know what a dick looked like. and what it felt like. of course, you weren’t expecting for him to whip it out and offer it to you, you only wanted him to explain.

at the end of the day, he was a man.

you don’t want to lose your virginity yet, you’re not sure if you’re ready yet. and satoru knew that. but as the years pass, you hadn’t done anything but kiss someone.

satoru’s eager to know what the question was for you to randomly drop by at night.

the problem is—you can’t even ask him out of embarrassment.

“sweets, just spit it out, i won’t make fun of you. promise.” satoru says, his head tilted with an amused smile on his face.

you sit beside him on the couch, both of you faced towards each other. he rests his head in his palm, his elbow rested on the back of the couch.

your face is tainted with a small blush as you anxiously pick at the hem of your shirt.

“i didn’t do anything wrong, right?” he raises an eyebrow, his face morphing into worry. you glance at him, shaking your head.

“no, satoru, it’s just—i—“ you huff, looking at your lap.

he sighs and inches closer. he reaches out and grabs your chin tenderly. your uneasy eyes meets his stormy ones.

“c’mon, angel. no matter what you’d ask me, i won’t make fun of you. and i’ll answer it the best i can.”

you gnaw on the inside of your cheek. “okay, but you can’t laugh.”

the corners of his lips twitch. “you know i can’t promise that.”

you huff, attempting to pull your face out of his hand to no avail. “then never mind.”

he moves closer, your legs now touching. “okay, okay, i won’t laugh. i promise.” he smiles.

you stare at him for a moment, your eyes roaming over his face.

i can trust him, you remind yourself.

“i want to know,” you start, your voice trembling slightly. “i want to know what a…what a dick looks like. and feels like.”

the room goes deathly silent. he goes still, his eyes widening scarcely in shock.

his eyes stay locked on you, your entire body heating up profusely under his gaze.

you regret ever asking him. you shouldn’t have even thought about asking him.

as the silence stretches you grow restless. “never mind, forget i asked, okay?!” you pull away and go to stand up.

satoru catches your wrist and pulls you down on the couch. your faces are impossibly close, his breath tickling your lips.

you swallow a gasp.

“and you wanted me to show you mine?” his voice low and heavily laced with something that makes your stomach churn.

you bite your tongue, reluctantly nodding. he grins and brings his hand to your cheek, his touch delicate.

he chuckles breathlessly like an excited kid. “you’re so cute, coming to your best friend to see his cock?” the way he phrases it makes your pulse jump.

“i’d love to, sweets.“

you’re now laying on your back, satoru hovering over you—suffocating you with his presence alone.

he nips endlessly at your neck, his incisors stinging you deliciously. your pulse is thrumming violently underneath his lips.

you whimper quietly, your hands gripping his hair like a lifeline.

his cock slides over your soaked slit through your panties as he guides himself suitably with his hand.

your panties are a mess, made dirty with your slick and his precum.

he’s thinned them out, tugging them upwards so he can feel your folds clutch on his dick.

his other hand pins your hip down to keep you from wriggling too much.

“fuck, doll. i can feel how tight you are from here.” satoru groans.

he’s already made you come once from doing this—nothing but rubbing the underside of his cock against your clothed cunt.

you feel yourself clench around nothing when he rubs his tip against your clit. you moan directly into his ear unintentionally.

he moans, precum dribbling onto you shamelessly.

“satoru, this—this isn’t what we agreed on.” you meekly say, your words being cut off by another whine.

he clicks his tongue, sitting up to look at the mess he’s made. “you saying this isn’t better?”

he grins when he feels you clench at his words. “but—i don’t want to—” you start.

he clicks his tongue. “don’t worry, we’re not breaking any rules, i’m not even inside you.” he pushes hus cockhead onto your clit as to emphasize his point. you mewl.

he laughs. “pretty little thing. can’t believe i’m the first to touch you, i’m lucky, aren’t i?”

he tugs the hem of your underwear upwards with more force. the friction makes your toes curl. “being the first to dirty this tight hole. i’m honored.”

you cry out, your hands reaching for his wrist.

“no, s-satoru!” you moan.

he hums, tilting down at you, amused at how reactive you are. his grins become insistent, his tip sending electrifying shocks to your clit.

you bite your lip—which does nothing to muffle your whimpering. your hand falls off his wrist and onto the couch.

“no? but you’re gripping me so hard.” he taunts. you spasm around nothing, seeking more.

“wonder what it’d be like to fuck you properly.” he mutters huskily. you moan. you curl your fingers into the cushion underneath you.

“finish inside you, force it back in with my fingers.” he lets out a trembling sigh at the thought. he feels his cock throb under his palm.

“want me to show you what it’d feel like for me to bottom out?” he grumbles, his rubs becoming sloppy and desperate. he huffs out a breathless laugh. “you don’t even know what that is, do you?”

you moan loudly, the coil in your stomach threatening to snap any moment. he smirks—then his face changes to a broken expression.

“shit, angel. you gonna come?” you can only respond with a eager moan. he groans. “do it for me, yeah? please?” he whines.

you feel the coil in your gut snap. you cunt clamps down on the shadow of satoru’s cock. you come with a high-pitched moan, your nails clawing at the couch underneath you.

with a few more adamant rubs—satoru comes with you. he groans and shoots out long, hot, sticky ropes of cum. they land on your panties and your shirt, making a mess out of you.

he falls onto you, his arms wrapping around your waist. he burrows his head in your neck. his laborious breathing matches yours.

he’s filled with joy right now, wholly lucky that you’re still a virgin. that he gets to be the one to defile you.

he knows he should feel at least a tiny bit bad, but how could he? why would someone else be able to do this to you? it’s only right your trusted best friend would.

“how about you come over for more of these lessons, yeah?”

this isn’t what you even planned on doing.

the plan was to see his cock. touch it—once. you’re sure this isn’t the last time.

sorry for the gap in between posts, i’ve been doing more reading than writing :p

[t0jisbunny]

satoru & his pillow princess girlfriend ♡︎

as per usual, you’re laid comfortably on your back, surrounded by plush pillows, your boyfriend looming over you as he snaps his hips against yours.

you rarely did any of the work during intimacy with satoru. in your defence, why would you? he looks like a damn greek god on top of you, biceps flexing either side of your head, abs on full display as he splits you apart with his fat cock.

you couldn’t get enough of the sight, it was perfect — satoru was perfect. not to mention those beautiful blue eyes gleaming down at you, soft white hair messy and falling into that sexy middle part you adored on him.

admittedly, you’re also lazy. your boyfriend has stamina for days, ultimately, you just can’t compete.

"feel good, baby? my lil’ pillow princess enjoying herself?" he teases, hiking one of your legs over his shoulder, driving his cock deeper inside of you.

you gasp sharply, eyes rolling back as he stretches you open, looking down at you with that infuriatingly smug grin. “mnghh — toru’ — you’re so deep," you moan, fingernails digging into the meaty flesh of his biceps.

satoru leans in, leaning his forehead against yours, then pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. “my lazy princess, layin' there looking so pretty for me."

"m’not — ahnn — lazy," you whine, your cunt clenching around him like it never wants him to leave. satoru ruts into you harder, faster, making your mouth gape wide open from sheer pleasure.

"sureeee you’re not, in fact, why don’t you get on top, huh? ride me just how i like it," he teases further, now taking your other leg and draping it over his shoulder.

he has you cumming on his cock before you can even respond, cunt fluttering deliciously around his length as you moan his name like a prayer. "gooodd girl, look so cute cumming on my cock."

you’re utterly fucked out, cheeks flushed, almost limp against the soft sheets. “aw, tired already, princess? suchhh hard work laying there while i fuck this pretty pussy," he says, voice dripping with mock sympathy.

in reality, satoru didn’t mind you rarely doing the work. he enjoyed looking at your pretty face as you unravel, tits bouncing with every deep thrust.

“gonna fill you up now, yeah? taking me soooo well," he coos. you use the last of your energy to nod feverishly and buck your hips against his, suddenly slightly insecure about your lack of effort.

he chuckles lowly, pinning your hips down with two hands. "s’okay, princess. let me do it," he says, thrusts becoming short and sharp, breathing heavier.

then, he fills you to the brim with his hot load, leaning in to bury his face in the crook of your neck — almost folding you in half to ensure his load is buried deep inside your pussy.

"hah — fuckkk,” he groans, kissing your neck, emptying every last drop from his heavy balls.

he wouldn’t change his cute little pillow princess for the world.

based on this request ☆ more like this

[sleepwalkletters]

baby fever ༘⋆ 18+ mdni

you and your husband had agreed.

no children. not yet. we're still young, we're not ready.

but every so often,

he went through phases.

it always started the same way.

someone would pass you their baby. a baby shower, a christening, a family gathering where there was always one making its rounds. you would lull it in your arms, holding it like the most precious thing in the world, giggling as the baby babbled.

to you, it was nothing more than affection. but across the room, your husband—who had always spoiled you—would be watching with that look in his eyes which were so dilated, you could see your reflection. and you'd know all rational thoughts have left him.

he thought, I could give you one if it'd make you happy.

your stomach would go woolly. his baby fever was starting again.

it started with little things.

like when he would come up behind you while you made coffee, wrapping his arms around your waist and rubbing your belly warmly.

you would glance back at him suspiciously. he'd only bite his lip, smiling shyly, before hiding that familiar expression of longing on his face in the crook of your neck.

or when he'd be lying with his head in your lap during a film and suddenly, unprovoked, he'd tilt his head back to look up at you with glossy eyes and the slightest pout.

"I wonder what your milk would taste like."

then, as though he'd said nothing at all, he'd turn back to the screen and fall quiet again.

later, when you were stretched out on the couch instead, he'd lazily climb on top of you and tug at your neckline so that your breast would swell out. absentmindedly, suckling on your nipple. his cheek hot at the dip between them as his honeyed tongue rubbed side to side until you were raw.

all the while, his attention stayed fixed on the film, as if this was the most ordinary thing in the world.

then, it would manifest through sex. the slowest, softest sex imaginable.

he would roll his hips like he might grind on a pillow. so tenderly and carefully stuffing his cock inside you, inch by inch, like you were still a virgin, which was so unlike the bruising, receptor-numbing sex you were used to.

whenever you urged him to fuck you harder, deeper, rougher, his hands would tighten around your waist, grounding you.

“that's not how our baby should be made." he'd murmur, almost chiding.

when he was close, he'd bury his face against your neck, his voice barely more than a breath. "m' coming inside," he'd murmur, as though it would do anything.

and when he finally came and the creamy head of his cock pulsed inside the deepest part of you, he'd let out a long, contented sigh before pressing gently against your lower stomach with his hand.

his come thick and more excessive than usual.

"do you feel it?" do you feel me?

then he'd nuzzle his cheek to your belly and drift to sleep there, arms wrapped possessively around your waist, as if he believed that if he stayed close enough, if he loved you hard enough, he could coax a heartbeat into existence by sheer devotion alone.

a few days later, when it became obvious nothing had come of it even after he had came so much it spilled out of you, his bitterness was impossible to hide.

his eyes would catch on the blister pack of birth control pills sitting on the nightstand, and something ugly would flicker across his face. for one cruel, selfish second, he'd imagine sweeping them into the trash.

keeping you tangled in bed until you forgot to take them. pretending he hadn't noticed.

but he wouldn't, of course not. instead, he'd sulk and taunt you.

he'd take other people's babies the moment their parents offered and gaze down at the tiny bundle from beneath his lashes, his expression melting unbearably soft.

"I really, really want one."

with the same bratty insistence as someone begging for a puppy—completely enchanted by the tiny fingers, the sleepy noises, the idea of having a mini version of you following him around.

rushed ahead to the sweetness of it all, blissfully skipping over midnight feedings, diapers, tantrums, and every impossible responsibility that actually came with a child.

"look," he'd huff. "I'm holding his head right, aren't I?"

I could do this. I'd be good at this, please.

you'd sigh, watching his biology get the better of him. the primal urge to reproduce leaving him unrecognisable. he can't help himself.

"not right now."

your husband was still a baby himself.