ryomen sukuna proves he can treat you better than your asshole bf
ryomen sukuna does not concern himself with the miserable dwellings of day to day life of peasants (aka his frat buddies)
he parties,he gyms, he balls. he looks good and smells good and keeps his women limited to strict one night schedules.
he doesn't give two shits about who's fucking whom and whichever latest breakups circulating around campus. and he definitely doesn't keep track of his friends' girlfriends.
except when he spotted you one night , sitting in one corner of the raging neon lit room , fiddling with your fingers as you watched your boyfriend dance with other women .
sukuna told himself he didn't care about how your smile kept faltering or how sad your eyes looked.
yet, he never wanted to punch a man to oblivion so much than at that moment. he reigned himself in that night.
but the next time when he saw your crestfallen expression when your asshole boyfriend dismissed your homecooked lunch before the entire team , sukuna lost it.
so yeah. he did punch his teammate and frat mate to oblivion.
the rest was easy and quick. some bruises here and there. a little blood. but his favourite part was hearing your shy mouth yell "fuck you , you bastard" on your boyfriends bloody and beaten face (courtesy of him)
but sukuna's life somehow became even more convoluted after that.
his eyes track the slight colouring of your cheeks , the way your gaze darts away from his as you mutter a shy "thank you" .
the sweet scent of your shampoo lingers in his nose when you pass by him in the corridors. his mind replays the small smile you gave him when he crossed paths with you, in the dark quiet of his room.
days escalate to weeks and he finds himself sitting on the bleachers after practice, eating from the cute pink bento you prepared for him as he listens to you read out a line from your favourite book.
he surprises himself when he throws away his entire stash of cigarettes after you tell him one afternoon that you dislike the smell of them.
as autumn approaches, sukuna finds himself before you , pink cheeked, handing you the books he picked out in hopes that you would enjoy them.
ryomen sukuna did not care about feelings . he never bothered to question his own lack of them. but then how was he supposed to justify the way his heart beat stuttered when you placed a soft, barely there kiss on his cheek after he walked you to your apartment?
ryomen sukuna did not bother with cheek kisses. he was rough and in the bed,took from the women what he wanted.
and you were the antagonist of everything he was accustomed to. because it wasn't rough and hard and frantic when it came to you. hell, he hadn't even tasted your lips, and somehow sex hadn't even crossed his mind.
he was willing to take even the tiniest bit of affection you showed him. and somehow it was enough for him.
with you it was lingering fingers, and soft glances. easy smiles and reading poetry. eating sundaes at 10pm under the streetlights .
and when he realised that he looked forward to hearing your soft voice as you read to him, and eating your handcooked meals instead of his bland protein shakes and walking you home as the lamposts cast a warm glow on your skin—sukuna realised that he was utterly fucked.
because, as much as he wanted to deny it, he was no fool.
Could you write anything with this in mind?? It is making me FERAL 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤 I love you queen
i love you so much more pretty 🫶
reader has fuckboy toji on a leash
"no thanks. i make my men earn it" the boys hollered all around as you swiftly turned around, leaving behind the awe struck man. fushiguro, you heard his friends call him.
toji was rooted in place, as he watched you walk back to your friend group, your pretty hips swaying in that way he couldn't look away from.
toji had never been rejected before. his manly pride was in tatters. "I don't like em so mouthy anyway". that's what he said when the teasing from his frat buddies got too irritating.
he was the toji fushiguro. he didn't ask for a lay. women came to him. and it fucked him up to think that there might be someone who wouldn't crawl into his sheets when he asked them.
he told himself he didn't give a fuck.
yet, his eyes followed you all around campus, lingering on those damn legs he couldn't forget.
everywhere you went he was there.
studying in the library? you would catch him idly spinning a pencil between his fingers gaze locked on you.
hallways? he would be smoking in the corner.
cafeteria? of course he was there as well, watching you eat and laugh with your friends.
"stalking me, fushiguro?" you smirked at him , as the rain poured heavily outside.
puffing out the smoke, he gave a lazy drawl, "ya aint the only one whos forgotten an umbrella."
you walked over to him, then snatched away his cig and threw it out in the rain. "woman wh—"
you pulled him down by his jacket collar, "I should smell no smoke on you." then with a pause, you added "7pm. Tuesday. Qirkey's bistro."
and toji fushiguro was left slack jawed as he, once again, watched you pull out an umbrella and walk away from him. those damn hips.
.
.
"yea he paid too!" satoru blabbed drunkenly.
"never thought i would see him in a pink cafe" choso said, voice bored.
nanami gave an amused chuckle as he took a swig from his bottle, "well, he hasn't smoked in three months. nor has he brought any chick back. a pink cafe is prolly the least surprising."
satoru gave a whine , "I liked her ya know? thought I would ask her out myself. but the way she has fushiguro in a fucking leash made me back out."
the door opened to reveal a flustered toji. everyone stared at the red lipstick stained kiss on his jaw. even more absurd was the small smile dancing on his lips.
"what?" toji snapped, suddenly noticing the silence. then he proceeded to walk up the stairs without even a second glance at all the booze laying around.
suguru gave a sigh, " yea didn't think he would join"
satoru's voice was a little timid as he mumbled , "it's the leash . the fucking leash, man."
ryomen sukuna asks sweet reader he is smitten with on a date
ryomen sukuna was a lot of things. he was broody, he was stoic and harsh and absolutely detested the saying "think before you speak".
but what he wasn't was a bumbling idiot. (?)
"the uh coffee...at that place...is um—" sukuna's gaze trailed from your wide doe eyed stare to the slight quirk of your pretty pink lips.
his brain short circuited, "...cute" he finished.
you had to fight yourself to not giggle at the tall handsome, slightly scowling man before you as he said the word 'cute'.
"oh? whats the name ? i would like some cute coffee!" you asked innocently.
meanwhile sukuna—whose brain had absolutely gone to the gutters imagining the taste of those pretty pink lips— had to mentally slap himself out of his reverie.
his brain went on an overdrive trying to remember the name of the coffee shop. but the problem was he was more of a protein shake and solely depended on the coffee maker in his dorms for his black black coffee without any sugar or milk.
suffice to say he was very lost.
"ijishi ?" it sounded more like a question.
this time you did giggle. ijishi was a steak house. clearly not in the business of selling cute coffees.
sukuna wasn't sure why it was funny to you, but he counted it as a win because it made you happy.
you cleared your throat, "i was actually craving some steak! i heard ijishi also happens to have some great steak."
your fingers moved to interwine with his , as you stepped closer to him. you tilted your face upwards , smiling at him "...maybe we can have some?"
sukuna was not easily flustered. his feathers certainly weren't easily ruffled. and he definitely didn't blush.
"...ofcourse" was all he could manage.
his brain was currently occupied with taking notes of the finer details—like how your fingers aligned absolutely perfectly with his, and your palm was so soft in his hand. and your eyes. damn they were sparkling in the sunlight.
some of your friends called out your name, reminding you that class was starting in ten minutes.
you went on your tip toes , placing a quick peck on his cheek, leaving a light lipstick stained kiss.
"great! I'm off to class now, pick me up then!" you said happily as you turned to leave.
sukuna willed his heart rate to slow down as he watched your pretty floral dress slowly disappear in the crowd of the students.
date secured.
see? he wasn't bad at this at all like his teammates claimed.
ryomen sukuna who is smitten with sweet, slightly clueless reader
ryomen sukuna was off limits.
all the cheerleaders knew it. all his fellow jocks knew it. hell even the younger female professors, who couldn't help but stare at him , knew it.
he is built like a greek god and acts like a retired sergeant. no one can tear their gaze off him when he is on the field , and yet no one truly dares to approach him when he is off the field either.
he has a nasty personality that doesn't shy away from saying "fuck off " right on the face of even the prettiest cheerleader—hence shattering her confidence completely. rumours even suggested that said girl never dared confess to anyone ever again.
you were just a happy go lucky.
sweet dresses, pretty jewellery, neat hair. you were just a girl with a sweet, slightly clueless personality. everyone's friend and enemy of none and so on and so forth.
you had your own circle of close people—even though one could count them on the phalanges of a single digit.
a different world from the one in which the formidable campus king ruled.
hell, no one could have ever suspected in a million years that ryomen sukuna would cross paths with you. or that he would , quite literally, trip over himself while he watched you feed a stray kitten.
who would have known that his eyes would track your easy smiles and register your presence in every room you entered.
and that he would carry you out of a frat party, drunken and smiling and giggling into his chest, all the while safely nestled in his arms, as if you had him wrapped around your little fingers.
in all honesty, you did.
the ryomen sukuna was in love
with you .
you, who wished on airplanes and made it a regular habit of quizzing him about the various shapes he could decipher from the clouds above.
you , to whom laughs came easily. you who was happy with giving away your meals to stray animals.
no one expected the formidable captain would be so besotted with a girl .
ryomen who never gave any woman the time of his day , would become so enamored by you that he wouldn't be able to tear his gaze off of you.
the students would gape openly when they saw him waiting for you outside your class, walking with you to your next class.
or the bomb—gently tucking your hair behind your ear.
ryomen sukuna did not do soft or sweet.
but he did... apparently. for you. with you.
ryomen sukuna didn't let random girls kiss his cheek. but you weren't a random girl. you were his girl.
so his teammates stared slack jawed at the light lipstick stained kiss on his cheek—averting their gazes before they could be faced with his wrath for staring too long.
ryomen sukuna didn't carry other girls baggage for them. so why were his arms full of art supplies and projects even though his major had absolutely nothing to do with it?
it was called being smitten, ofcourse .
with you.
who , for ryomen, hung the stars and moon in his sky.
frankly, no one had expected the quiet, detached and slightly depressed looking choso kamo to be a boyfriend to anyone...much less to you.
with your brightly dyed hair, glossed lips and shiny manicured nails—making heads turn was the bare minimum reaction you elicited out of everyone.
you left girls gaping at your unique style and perfect dressing sense, their faces a mix of jealousy and begrudging awe . boys hung onto your million dollar smile, scrambling to offer you a seat at the cafeteria.
a campus hundred , the dream girl
so imagine everyone's shock when they see you, sweetly kissing choso's cheek before parting ways in the hallway. and sitting with him during breaks. and even walking around campus together!
,,she is wayyy out of his league' the jocks laughed while placing bets on your imminent break up.
some girls even wondered ,,how come they hadn't noticed kamo before, giggling about how his quiet look and stony expression had a brooding sort of attractiveness to it.
gossipers theorised ,,did he drug her?does he have something on her??' expecting a messy breakup or hallway fight
but that never happened.
because you liked choso first.
you were used to being liked for your body, your looks.
but he was the first to not lose himself to lust. you became curious about the quiet guy who didn't fawn on you, who didn't try to sell you something they weren't.
he wasn't insecure or self depreciating . nor was he cocky and arrogant.
he was the first person who had stopped to listen to you tearfully explain the toll the immense academic pressure was having on your mental health.
and under the mellowed yellow streetlights, he sat with you on the dusty sidewalk listening to the cicadas together —when your dorm room got too dark and quiet.
he didn't offer useless "it will get better"s or "you can do it"s he offered company. a selfless act of kindness—no showing off , no twisted game to impress you or betraying any intention of doing so.
he was different from all the boys. he didnt rush in to fill up the quiet pauses between your sentences. didn't try to touch your skin to try to comfort you. hell he didn't even glance at you more than once or twice.
so how come just sitting beside him while rambling your thoughts, made you feel so safe and light hearted?
so yes, you fell for him first. a mere curiosity turned into trust into attraction.
so one day you tugged on his sleeve and kissed under the street lamps.
and that was that. he was officially yours.
no matter what the campus gossipers cited. they didn't really know your boyfriend they way you did.
didnt know that choso could tell when you got overwhelmed in a too crowded room, or when your breaths came faster before your swim meet.
no one knew that the perfect girl wasn't always perfect
when the outfits just didn't feel right no matter how many times you changed , when your frayed nerves made even the softest silks seemed like rough terracotta against your skin—only his warm, quiet kisses along your neck could calm you down.
words werent the ultimate jury of one's character. no. actions were.
and every quirky girl needs her reserved man to ground her. because when she runs out of words, he makes sure that the silence isnt suffocating.
and damn the world. and whatever the fuck they thought and their miserable little opinions
brat! reader getting carried bridal style by boyfriend sukuna because her feet hurt
you loved your louboutin's .
you owned three pairs (courtesy of your boyfriend who wholeheartedly supported your splurging tendencies)
but as hot as the clicking sounded, and as sexy as the red underside of the heels with your matching red dress made you look—you couldn't feel your feet anymore (an exaggeration, you hadn't walked more than ten steps the entire evening)
"babyyyy", you whined as you licked your ice cream. your manicured fingers tugging on the sleeve of his dark maroon shirt.
communicating your request with just the power of your telepathy (your bratty tone)
the car parking was still a bit away from where you both were.
you knew your sudden urge to get ice cream specifically from the small vendor on the 11th Street roadside—after the fancy five course dinner he had just taken you on—was totally uncalled for.
but your man never said 'no' to you.
sukuna just gave a small huff, but the indulgent expression on his face made you swoon.
you grabbed his extended arm as you stepped out of your heels and onto the shiny surface of his black polished shoes
it was a blur of movements from then —and you were being pressed against his firm chest, his arms—one under your knees and the other under your back.
he bent down once more so that you could grab your heels.
you giggled a little with the motion, one hand around his neck , the hells dangling from your fingers, bumping into shoulder blades with every step he took.
your amusement subdued a bit as your eyes tracked the strong jaw , the musky scent of his cologne making your head spin.
you brought your other hand to your mouth, giving your ice cream another slow lick.
if it was a bit obscene, no one could blame you.
and if sukuna's eyes strayed from the path for a second or two—well you were accomplishing your task perfectly then.
.ᐟ gamer satoru who is too busy to give you attention.
he has been sitting at his desk, before the elaborate setup, console in hand—all day.
barking out stupid shit at his monitor like a fucking dog when he should be barking for you.
"no—no. you move to the left!"
"the fuck you waiting fo—shoot 'em"
"THATS RIGHT BOYS. THATS HOW WE DO IT WOOHOOOO"
how dare he ignore you! nobody ignores you, and especially not him.
that too for some stupid 2d bitches that wouldn't suck his dick the way you did.
your fingers itched with the need to slap your bf back to his senses, to finally get his attention. but good for you, you were a far better strategist than that.
so you made a show of tying up your hair in a ponytail , narrowed gaze watching him as he glanced at you quickly from the corner of his eye. still busy screaming orders.
that made your blood boil.
you lowered yourself to your knees and crawled under the gaming table. heard his words falter for a second but he steadied himself.
carefully you settled yourself between his thighs. with deliberate slowness you started unzipping his jeans. you couldn't catch his face but as you harshly yanked down his boxers— his breath hitched loudly. his erection springing free.
'oh baby...hard for me already?' you thought delightedly to yourself. then went back to slowly run the tip of your tongue along his head. a kitten lick.
you felt his thighs clench under your palms.
you wrapped your tongue around him once , moving up half his length wetting him with your spit, then removing your mouth.
your saliva made his cock glisten.
puckering your lips, you slowly blew over his length, cooling the saliva. and since the law of thermodynamics still applied, a full body shiver ran down his frame.
his words stuttered, "y—yeah just kill them god damn!"
still not enough. considering he was still giving out those stupid commands.
with a long intake of breath you swallowed him whole, right upto his balls. without wasting any time you started bobbing your head quickly.
you felt his loud groan vibrate along his cock right into your mouth.
the soft white hair at the base of his abdomen tickled your nose everytime his dick hit the back of your throat. gripping his thighs even harder, you set a brutal pace. "fuckkkk" he moaned loudly.
tears pooled in your eyes but you kept going , until finally his hips started bucking up against your mouth. you gagged once.
you heard a loud clatter—his earpiece and microphone hitting the desk surface. but before his fingers could grab hold of your ponytail to control the pace , you pulled away entirely, releasing him with a loud smack.
saliva dripped from the corner of your mouth, gaze slightly blurry as you crawled out from under the desk and stood up.
satoru whined and grabbed your waist pulling you against him, his upright dick pressing against your stomach, leaving a gray wet imprint over your white cotton baby tee.
he was moaning even from that small contact ,eyes all round and glossy too "babyyy please. dont. I'm so closeeee."
you wiped your spit with your thumb—then smeared it over his lips.
and just like that satoru was left breathing hard, fisting his cock in his gaming chair. crying and begging for your attention.
oh how the tables have turned.
"bad boys don't get to cum" and satoru's been very very bad.
hard yearner! satoru finally convinces you to go on a date with him
"you look beautiful baby~" gojo sings out. he is on a mission. and he has a vision.
but you do not know that—okay that's untrue. you do know but you choose to ignore it. so you stick with aggressively rolling your eyes .
what makes it even more ridiculous is the fact that you are dressed in your laziest getup . a ratty tshirt of which you had cut off the neckline to make it off shoulder to combat the heat, and loose cotton pants.
anyone with two eyes , proper hearing and a semi functional brain can tell that he is overdoing the flattery. but for what end goal you couldn't decipher. he has already been in your panties ( and probably will be again). so it was utterly lost on you why he had dragged you to an amusement park—and the fact that you had agreed to come with him.
but satoru was on a mission. he had groveled, begged, gave you the best oral, begged some more to finally get you to go out with him.
this was a start. maybe one day he would be given the privilege of holding you not just during the quick fucks, but through the night as well .
he had daydreamed the feel of your hand in his, your fingers intertwined. so with one more "you smell so delicious today baby" , he sneaks his hand into yours.
you give a little jerk, trying to shake your hand free but he just tightens his hold. "gojo let go"
his voice is as chirpy as ever. "is it a new perfume? i approve!"
when you fail, again, to wriggle your hand free you give him your best annoyed voice "gojo."
"satoru" he corrects mildly, while looking around. then proceeds to drag you to a mascot stand run by an elderly couple. they look tired in the unforgiving heat, their age doing them no favour either.
any guy would have gone for flowers, or food. or perhaps some expensive shit.
but he was gojo. funny . sappy. kind.
so when he buys you not one, not two , but three varieties of corny graphic tee's and two hats with matching 'blue jean babys' written on them, you don't complain.
somehow this little gesture of his manages to dampen your annoyance.
you have always loved to chase the high. and satoru had always loved making you reach it. so he takes on the roller coaster. the upside down swinger which you enjoyed too much. then on the 'death plunge' (which he jokes about for the rest of the day)
his mission continues though.
a swipe of his fingers against your lips 'you had some ice cream there baby'.
the classic yawn and stretch maneuver which ended up with his arm around your shoulders and you pressed into him.
and the absolute deal breaker—the kiss at the top of the feris wheel. satoru had even timed the fireworks and shit.
but you had already made it clear when you both started fucking. no kissing.
he joked about it of course when you pushed him back, but you caught that brief flicker of hurt. you should be able to ignore it. like you had done so many times before. you both had been at this game for way too long.
and perhaps you were finally losing your mind.
there was no other possible explanation for what you did after he dropped you off at the entrance of your apartment building.
after he sing songs a random tune about you looking gorgeous in your blue jean babys' hat and ratty tshirt.
after he jokes about taking you out again and making you fall in love with him. after he begs about letting him stay the night .
after he whines about you giving him a goodnight kiss, all the while the wind swept his light hair into his eyes and that awfully charming smile danced on his lips.
because you pulled him down by his shirt collar and pecked him lightly on his cheek.
that shut him up.
"go home , satoru."
you couldn't stop the small snicker at his dumbfounded expression.
he just nodded and turned around stumbling at his own feet.
you crossed your arms and leaned against the building wall and watched him as he lifted a hand to rub his cheek. then glance back at you once. then as he let out a loud howl (which you have never before heard a human make) and ran out of the apartment complex.
another snort escaped you. both at his childishness. and at your foolishness.
you really were losing your mind.
kinda pt2 of this if anyone's interested :) @chickyyy511
brat! reader demanding boyfriend 𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒂 to hold her hand while he carries all the bags
your hands feel weird. empty, you note suddenly.
then you look at your boyfriend walking just 2 steps ahead of you. both of his hands full of shopping bags and grocery packets.
it must be heavy. it is heavy. that's why sukuna is carrying them and not you. you give a sigh of appreciation as your eyes roam over his frame.
tall , dressed in dark shades, muscles pulled taut. quite the head turner. and more than capable of carrying a few bags, you mentally note.
your friends often complained about their partners expecting to split the baggage. half n half and shit that felt so absurd to you that you had obnoxiously bragged about your man demanding that you 'do not lift a single finger'.
the girls had the audacity to look skeptical.
you pull up the camera app on your phone and click record.
"baby?" you call out, pretending to scroll. the camera records your man as he half turns his head.
"why aren't you holding my hand?" you demand like a spoiled brat. you catch the faint upward tug of his lips as he turns his head to face forward again.
then he releases his pinky from under his grip on the bags and slightly points it. you let out a happy sound and grab onto it. making a point of zooming in your camera on the view.
then you reverse the camera and film your face.
sukuna often tells you to wipe that smug look off your face. but how can you when you bagged such a hot deal?
so you give your brattiest grin and lean your head against his bicep. the camera doesn't capture his face, he is too tall for that.
sukuna doesn't comment, even as he watches the display. what can he say? he quite likes being shown off by his princess.
omgg hiiii !!! i literally just liked and reblogged a BUNCH of your fics (sorry for blowing up your phone :'D) i love your writing!!!!! neva stoppppp (and I love the colour scheme like heloooo????!!!)
campus heartthrob and resident fuckboy GOJO SATORU shocks everyone by going exclusive with you
gojo satoru settling down was as unlikely as catching the hour hand of a clock moving.
notorious for being a lady's man , he had it all going for him. he was all bedroom eyes and cheesy smiles that can make anyone's knees go weak. he was full of loud laughter and nonchalant swagger.
like he didn't give a damn.
cigars for breakfast, skipping lunch to attend classes if he felt so, hard liquor with his frat boys and a different woman in his bed at night—for dinner of course.
he had the face, he had the body, he had the charisma. none could blame the poor souls who wanted a taste, even for just one night.
and satoru. oh. satoru was just a guy. who was he to turn away the beautiful ladies? he didn't chase after them, it was just his luck that they came to him first.
then he caught his first glimpse of you. at his party, looking so out of place that made his eyes zero in on you. not even a cup in your hands. looking so good that it made him want to do something bad.
so he slid up to your side with his usual confidence. started a conversation he could hardly care about. and ultimately, was shocked into silence when you hit him with a "sorry, that pea in your bed is going to bruise my back".
rejected him.
rejected him.
and thus began satoru's chase. the chase for your heart.
the local campus gossip forum ruminated , 'the heartthrob, gojo, has been caught getting rejected by unknown woman. the university has since, seen a rise in the number of women left unsatisfied as gojo's bedroom door has been closed for shocking reason. is a reform on the way? is exclusivity on the horizon? '
heads turned as the usually absent satoru was seen attending classes almost to the point of regularity.
gasps rang out when someone leaked a picture of him handing you flowers. red. roses.
so awfully cliche that you couldn't even blame your past self for the disgust on your face in the aforementioned leaked picture.
women raged when a video of him begging you while chasing after you on the sidewalk surfaced in the stories of satoru's frat bro's.
the man who was known for being as careless with his words as people are with their phones after a year, was suddenly mindful of his vocabulary.
when before, smirks and winks were handed out to the girls so easily—now they were reserved just for you it seemed.
and the crazy part of it all? you made him run. you made him grovel. you made him fix his failing grades. made him fix his fillipiant attitude.
and made him take 2 hiv tests.
made him give a damn.
but you couldn't change his cliché-ness. he was a sappy romantic. he snuck candy in your stationery, climbed up your window ledge and left flowers in your hair when you weren't paying attention to him.
he even started gifting you books which you had talked about in that first meeting. at the frat party. and that was when you caved in. not enough to let him in your bed. but enough to go out with him.
the frat boys tripped over themselves when they caught satoru in a white formal shirt and black slacks. a red rose in his pocket. the picture of a lover boy. the change was not sudden, he had been chasing after you for months . but it was shocking nonetheless.
and satoru. oh. satoru was in love. the goodness tasted way better on his tongue than cigar smoke. your perfume on his clothes smelled better than nightly sex.
and your hand in his made his heart race faster than any orgasm he had ever had.
he never imagined himself to be tamed by a woman. yet here he was. and he had no regrets.
not when people all around him gaped at your fingers scratching the hair at his nape.
not when his boys hollered at the tattoo of your name over his heart.
and certainly not when you finally let him in your bed.
he still had a long way to go though. to prove that he was there to stay. to prove that he was exclusive to you.
so as he lay stroking your back as you slept on his chest, he planned the perfect little outing to take you on the next day. (and ways to woo you so that you would invite him to your bed again)
𝜗ৎ────── 3 TIMES HE WAS YOUR ENEMY AND THE 1 TIME HE WASN'T ,, ᘜ. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
꒰ 5+1 ꒱ type shi ,, highschool au ,, g is a hot nerd hastag nerdjo ,, i tried to get the pining right but idk you tell me ,, .ᐟacademic rivals —> lovers ,, follows the 3 year japanese hs system (grade 10 to 12)
0. PROLOGUE
you were over the moon that your stellar grades got you accepted to such a prestigious highschool. excited for the next three years to come , you stared at the sprawling, shiny campus before you. truly an academics haven.
with jittery nerves , you followed the other fresh faced 1st years to class, making small talks about your previous school and listening to their old stories.
introductions were made when the homeroom teacher arrived. there were many meritorious students, no doubt. but one especially caught your gaze.
he was tall with blond hair and behind his rimless glasses were the prettiest eyes you had ever seen. as blue as the ocean.
you couldn't stop staring as he spoke. he didnt blabber or fumble like some of the others, just a few sentences. voice sharp and clean cut.
gojo. satoru gojo. and he was beautiful.
and when he caught you staring, the smile he gave you made sleep impossible to come that night. it felt like a dream . but then the next day came.
and the nightmare started.
I. YEAR 1
as the high slowly started to wear off, things started to get clearer. the first thing you noticed—besides his beauty—was that he was competitive. to a fault.
for every right answer you gave he made sure to give the next two. for every question you asked the teacher, he asked a follow up one. he seemed to know everything.
he was smart. he was good looking. and he knew it.
but what he didn't know was that you both were a match made in hell. so you started your own streak.
finding loopholes in his questions, no matter how petty. finding errors in his answers. sniffing haughtily if he got an answer wrong (that was like one time, so you regret not scoffing and coughing as well. it was a historic moment)
year end exams came. everyone breathed a sigh of relief as normal classes were replaced with study blocks. the classroom did not sound like two teens going into gorilla warfare with intellect instead of guns, anymore. just quiet sounds of turning pages and scraping of pen against paper.
that year you tied gojo as the 1st ranker of year 1. with the exact same marks in the exact same subjects, up to the very .987....E on that calculator.
and somehow, things got uglier.
II. YEAR 2
when petty rivalry escalated to him hiding your chem notes two days before the midterm exam—the ones where you had meticulously noted each derivation, each of the hundred reactions that made phthalimide , and every single word that kohlrausch had uttered in his lifetime about his freaking electrolyte like he was your grandpa leaving behind his journal—you finally snapped.
he topped the midterms.
when the devil works hard, you work harder.
you became quiet in class. no longer participating in his game of 'your 1 is 2 of mine ' . you observed him from afar, scheming the perfect revenge plan.
he tried to goad you when didn't rush to one up on him in class. "what? have you given up studying? couldn't keep up?"
but you held your tongue. even when you wanted to slap that infuriating smirk off his beau—ugly ass face. your time will come.
on the day of your physics final exam, you bumped into him in the hallway, scattering your exam supplies. he laughed at your clumsiness , absolutely unaware of the tiny pieces of parchment being slipped into his pant pockets.
later , as the examiners checked the uniforms of students before letting them enter the exam room, disbelieving gasps rang out. disapproving stern voices were heard. lots of groveling pleas were made.
the golden boy was made to start the exam an hour late.
you topped the finals.
that spot of 1st ranker was another tie for year 2.
III. YEAR 3
the last year of high school brought in new distractions. the other sex.
you were fixated on your studies though. you were determined to come first at least once in your highschool carrer.
it didn't shock you when gojo got a girlfriend. no. what shocked you was that he was letting lose.
he seemed to almost not care anymore. not about topping the class, atleast.
you would catch him staring at you, quickly averting his gaze when you raised your eyebrows at him. or just smirk at you in that arrogant way of his. it infuriated you to new highs everyday.
when before he used to spend his lunch hours studying just 3 tables away from yours, it was now spent holding hands on the bleachers with his girlfriend.
you scoffed to yourself whenever you saw them together. and you ignored the little voice in your head that kept chirping that she looked...kinda nice. with him.
you aced your midterms. yet the victory felt somehow... underwhelming.
it wasn't that his empty library spot taunted you or anything. it wasn't that you missed having an academic competitor. and it definitely wasn't that you were jealous.
nope.
so you said 'yes' when the school's notorious playboy asked you to prom.
and tried to shove him off when started to get too touchy and demanding on the dance floor.
and gaped like a fish when gojo satoru punched the dude so hard the fucker had a bandaged nose for the next two weeks.
and continue quietly on with life after that as satoru started avoiding you like the plague, feigning nonchalance.
finals rolled in. and rolled out . like the tides of the ocean.
IV. GRADUATION
the valedictorian sash was put around you on the graduation day. your speech was full of the usual jazz— motivation, a pinch of humour, a small effort at being relatable, and a whole lot of praise for the school faculty.
but the speech wasnt really your concern. it was the boy loitering against the tree away from the bustle graduates and their parents.
you stomped your way to him, breathing hard at the exertion, "you broke up with your girlfriend."
he looked up surprised. it wasn't really new. it was quite the talk of the school after that 'prom-punch' .
he shrugged as he lowered his gaze. you watched his cheeks colour slightly.
you continued, slightly emboldened by his reaction, "why did you let me get the first place?" he stiffened, almost unnoticeably.
you had seen the merit list. he was second in your year. so he definitely did care about 'mundane' things like studying. even if now he seemed to have taken a liking to acting like he didn't.
"i guess you are just better than me." faux confidence, the arrogant smirk, loose shoulders as he leaned against the tree. he looked every part the rival from your first three years of highschool.
but you knew him better than anyone. three years of trying to beat, sabotage, and pine after someone makes you quite the body lingo expert, apparently.
so you strode right up into his space and pressed your lips to his after saying "and i think you are full of utter shit"
and somehow your petty school rivalry became something more.
.ᐟ COLLEGE MIDTERM BREAK
you looped your arms around his neck, giggling wildly as he spun you around. the kiss that followed was just as sweet and rewarding after staying away from him for so long.
he pressed his forehead onto yours, " is the grass any greener now that you are so far away from this miserable town?"
you hummed as you kissed him again. "definitely greener. but lacks a certain blue." he grinned at that. then nuzzled your cheek. you whispered in his ear. "and my favourite rival."
and he made up for that by preparing worksheets and racing you on who could complete their assignment first.
much to your annoyance he did, the first time.
so you rewarded him , though much willingly, by riding his cock for an hour.
naturally, the next day you beat him by completing your assignment just mere minutes before him.
and he rewarded you by eating out your pussy for two hours afterwards.
and you swore you never loved him more(okay, perhaps when he did the prom-punch. it was iconic for a reason!)
𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒— i love my men blond and my characters in a hate/love, pine/kill situationship :D . and im prolly never getting over my jjk phase atp. lmk if u guys want g's pov !
queen @chososprettygirl 's whipped gojo series has me on a chokehold 😋
"where you goin' babyyyy " gojo whines after you push him back on his bed the second time. his expression is every bit the way he acts around you. lovesick.
"back to my apartment" you reply dismissively, gathering your bag and keys. you curse as you look at the time on your phone. much too late.
it was another impulsive decision on your part. and you really didn't do impulsive.
bare arms wrap around you tightly. "stay the night, pretty pleaseee" he begs , burying his face in the crook of your neck.
you give an irritated huff, twisting out of his embrace and walking out of the bedroom. you hear him trailing behind you like a kicked puppy.
"i even got food , look! its from that one place you love, the one with the yellow signs ! its gonna go to waste! " he says hopefully. as you make your way towards the front door , your gaze falls on the kitchen counter where two covered plates of said food sits. " atleast eat with me!" he whines again.
when you dont respond he snags your wrist. this makes you turn to him sharply.
his hair is mused , grey sweats hang low on his hips. red scratches cover his chest.
you had texted him late. asking to come over. and he had agreed readily. he never said no to you no matter how awful the timing.
you feel a little guilty then. so you start patiently. "look. i had a fucked up day. needed release. thats all."
he is as undeterred as ever. you sometimes wish you had his optimism.
he moves closer to you, "exactly! so les' eat together and we can even watch a movie! and after that we can do round tw—"
you cant stand the sight of his big blue eyes all hopeful and mushy and full of feelings. so you shove him off again.
"i dunno what you think this is. but im not looking for whatever you are trying to offer—other than sex." you say as you walk out the door.
you were being extra harsh on purpose. you had tried everything. kind words, reassurances followed by slow carreses , easy rejections to the commitment bit.
but nothing worked on the man.
he makes a pitiful sound as he hurriedly follows you out of the apartment . barefoot and shirtless. "jus' one date babe. pleasee. i swear ill make you fall in love with me !"
you closed the elevator door on his face.
you could hear him louldy calling out your name as he sprinted down the flights of stairs after you entered the lobby. the lobby receptionist feigned ignorance as gojo caught up to you.
he was full on throwing a tantrum now, voice all loud and high pitched and slightly out of breath, "the dicks good enough for ya! i swear the whole package 's even better ! one date and if i don' succeed we can go back to jus' fuckin' i promise"
embarrasment made your cheeks pink. you knew he was being so openly crass on purpose . a backhanded tactic to pressurize you.
"none can make you cum as hard as i do baby! whose gonna eat you out th—"
"FINE!" you scream as you slap your palms on his mouth , effectively shutting him up.
you could see his eyes scrunch up at the corners. can feel the victorious grin slowly forming against your fingers. he mumbles something. you remove your hand.
"one date. no take backs now. i've got witnesses" he says happily, face all childish mischief. you give a tired sigh.
"yes. one date."
his shit eating grin grows in size. the cold night air turning the tips of his ears pink. with a long finger, he pointed to his lips
──────ꫂ᭪݁ your husband 乙𝐔𝐊𝐎 sets the bed chamber on fire on your wedding night ♡ﾟ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆
after pining. and pining . and some more pining—
the first night of your marriage had finally arrived. zuko couldn't keep his hands off of you for even a second after the lengthy ceremony.
you both had been promised to eachother since a young age.
it had taken years of time and patience—understanding—to finally be ready to stand before the priest. to be united in matrimony.
years of learning the ways of ruling. the way of the people .
years of long afternoons cooped in the cavernous library studying the ancient scrolls.
years of learning the better half.
and somewhere in between, love had blossomed.
zuko didn't know if it was familiarity. or the way you tucked his long hair behind his ear. or the way you sometimes knew the correct answer even before him, and your eyes lit up when the royal tutor praised you . or perhaps in the way your dark eyelashes cast long shadows on the apples of your cheek.
but all he knew was that he was—had been in love with you. for a long time.
and as he slowly pushed into you , it was nothing like how he imagined. but it was everything he could have ever wished for. your little gasps were the sweetest melody to his ears. your fingers stayed tangled in his hair, slowly tightening as he started to thrust into you.
he was careful and slow. giving you the time and care that you—his wife—deserved.
he was a patient man.
all the while zuko kept his gaze fixed on your face. he watched mesmerized as your eyes started to become half lidded—pain transforming into pleasure. his fingers found your clit , tracing slow circles. learning the tells of your body. learning the soft sounds that you made when his fingers found the little nub.
it wasn't long before you were spasming around his girth, whimpering 'i love you ' over and over again that he finally started to chase the high.
he was a patient man really.
but the mere sight of you , so beautiful and pliant and warm under him—he was a man gone blind.
and like a blind man he chased the fire that glowed just behind his lids. all consuming and addictive.
gods the stinging of your nails scratching against his back—pain never felt more good.
and as he finally thrust into you one last time before he came undone—his teeth found the sweet sweet spot in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. you smelled divine. he lapped at your neck, inhaling your natural scent mixed with hints of the ceremonial incense which he knew clung to him too.
you were soft under him , tugging at his hair again. but he couldn't bring himself to move his face from the crook of your neck, his safe haven. he imagined he was possibly too heavy, half slumped over you the way he was as he came down from his peak.
your voice floated to his ears as if through smoke. "my lord..."
he grunted once. still nibbling on your skin.
"zuko." this time your voice was firmer. his fire lady. he looked up. "i love you, my fire lord" you had repeated.
and he realised the chamber was, infact, smoking. burning was the correct term really. the heavy curtains were on flames, blazing the walls and the woven carpets and mats.
it was an inferno around you both, in the literal sense.
later ,long after the flames were put out—the burning gossip did not die down for months. the fire lord and lady were prone to accidental bursts of fiery passion.
zuko quite liked the rumours . enjoyed the reminders of that night that the quiet whispers of his councilmen brought him.
he wanted to remember it.
your face—illuminated by the flames, smiling as you lay in his arms in the middle of the raging fire around you both—was something he would remember for a long long time. there was no panic. no hurry to leave the burning chamber.
he had realised he would probably set the world on fire for you. the bed chamber was just a small demonstration.
"i love you" he had whispered back.
and he hadn't been more sure of anything in his life.
𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒— i can never get enough of this trope :D *cough* violet sorrengail in that one scene in fourth wing *cough*
ꮼ───you love to keep your husband 𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐨 all to yourself────── ݁ ⛧ ₊
your entire body shudders as you ride your high, your legs weak and quivering from where they are wrapped around his waist.
your vision is blurry, so your other senses compensate by heightening themselves tenfold.
the silk sheets cling to your sweat slicked skin, as you arch your back when he hits that little spot again, and again and again,
"Zuko—"
you never finish your sentence. by the gods—you do not remember what you wanted to say in the first place .
your nails claw into his back as he continues to pound into you, his warm mouth firmly latched onto your neck.
your senses run amok , registering things that are usually so insignificant.
your nerves feel as if on fire. you are over-stimulated . the chamber smells of the sweet incense you had lit an hour or so ago. and of sex.
the heavy mahogany bed creaks underneath you. you feel his hair as it cascades around you, his teeth as they sink into your skin, him inside you.
It's painful. it's addicting.
his thrusts start to slow. the slow drags against your walls makes you whimper and moan. his mouth captures yours , swallowing your sweet sounds. he tastes like fire and a little like you.
its messy, droll runs from the corner of your lips—mixing with your tears that hadn't even realised had escaped from your eyes.
with one final thrust, he collapses onto you, burying his face between your breasts. you cherish the feeling of him in your arms. you smell him, you smell yourself on him.
his chest heaves as he regains his breath. you slowly brush away the sweat slicked hair from his forehead. his skin looks golden under the yellow candlelight.
your fingers trace the jagged lines on his back . even with your eyes closed, you know where each one begins and ends.
its a peaceful lull. a slowing in time.
the knocker raps harshly against the large ornate wooden doors. you can faintly make out the muffled panicky words of the councilman.
"my lord? the elders are waiting!"
your lips tug into a guilty smile as you feel him sigh against your skin. you had made him late again.
"wait for me here?" he murmurs lowly, voice hoarse. not for the frantic councilman outside. just for your ears. so you whisper back, just enough for your husband to hear.
"where else would i be , my fire lord?"
𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 - this is a hot(fiery) mess but....im weak to temptation :'D
───────♡ﾟYou have been leaving hints for him, but 𝐀𝐚𝐧𝐠 is oblivious to your advances of course ⛧ ₊
The eyes are the window's to one's soul.
Utter bullshit really.
'Cuz you have been making heart (—and stars and wind and moon and what not) eyes at your best friend for years now. And he is as dense as ever. You had started to think that perhaps your eyes were the issue, maybe they were a bit too opaque. So you started to adopt other means to get his attention the way you needed it to be.
Food. He worked very hard to make sure that Free City was a safe space for all benders and non benders alike. As a result he sometimes skipped his meals—too occupied with his duties. So you started with making him hand cooked meals.
He had been extremely shocked, considering how you had never been much of a chef. More prone to rolling around on the ground playfully fighting with him. But he had accepted it with a cheeky grin. Your eagerness had burst forth when he had taken a bite—his little nod and words of gratitude making your heart flutter.
And that was that. No blushes (not on his part atleast), no confessions, nothing. After not getting the desired reaction you felt angry.
So you moved on to plan B.
Touching. You tried to sneak in little touches here and there. A brush of your fingers along the exposed skin of his palms, a little pull on his robes, brushing your knucles lightly against his neck.
His eyes darted to yours in that same affectionate way it always had since your teenage days. In the same way a best friend's eyes did. And you were starting to get truly and exceptionally frustrated.
It was at this point you started to question if he even saw you in the way you wanted him to. Was his lingering gaze— that you always felt when you weren't looking just your imagination? Were you the only one who was stuck with these unrequited feelings?
No. He was your best friend for so long. You refused to believe that this was some one sided thing. He was just shy. He needed a little push.
So you moved on to the last stage of your plan.
You found him sitting on the cliffside, the moonlight making him glow. Taking a seat beside him, you dangled your legs and gazed down at the void.
Conversation had always come easily with him.
He talked about his day, about his duties , about his little students whom he was teaching the ancient texts of air bending. You told him about yours.
Then came that usual lull in the conversation—achieved only through years of being each other's shadow. Of being each other's constants.
Glancing at the void below you once more, you took a deep fortifying breath. It was now or never.
Turning your head you kissed him. To your horror, your lips landed on the edge of his in such an awkward way that the gesture could hardly be called a 'kiss' . And of course the noses were trying to fight for space.
And ofcourse he was frozen.
"This was a bad idea..." ,you muttered as you pulled back, colour blooming on your cheeks. You tried to play it cool, "You know, just—just forget it." You couldn't even look at him.
But he shocked you as he turned your face gently by your chin to face him. Then as if he had all the time in the world, he softly brought his lips to yours.
Perfect kiss.
With his head tilted at just the right angle. With your noses perfectly aligned. With your lips perfectly slotted with his.
You briefly wondered if this confident man was the same oblivious one who couldn't catch your hints even after months. Had he been pretending?
Then you swiftly ignored that thought and focused on the magnificent feeling of the kiss. And the things that followed after. Which you thoroughly enjoyed of course.
That night while you lay tangled with him, you couldn't help but ask "Aang...were my advances too vague?" He was quiet for a few seconds, so you chanced a look at his face.
"No. I was just waiting for that mind blowing first kiss from you."
The shit eating grin on his face told you all you needed to know. So you took your revenge .
By climbing on top of him for the 'you had lost count'—th time of the night.
And Aang couldn't even complain.
He had been waiting for so long.
He had of course been in love with you for a whole lot longer.
𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 - I can never not imagine my man being silly and playful 🥹 (with his hot bod ofc)
gummygunk
blakekathryn