Summery: sukuna gets in trouble as usual, but this time he isn't alone in the deans office. A girl is already sitting there whom he never noticed before, turns out there's also someone in school that matches his personality. You catch his attention
Sukuna didn’t bother to knock as he pushed open the heavy door to the dean’s office. He wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries—not that he ever was. The man practically lived here at this point. The dean was already seated at his desk, but Sukuna’s attention immediately shifted to the unfamiliar figure slouched in one of the chairs.
The girl—no, woman—barely glanced up at him. She had a confident, almost lazy demeanor, one leg crossed over the other, arms folded across her chest like she was waiting for someone to entertain her.
"Ah, Sukuna Ryomen," the dean began, not bothering to mask his irritation. "Take a seat. We were just getting started."
Sukuna’s smirk widened as he sank into the chair beside her. "Didn’t know I had a partner in crime," he drawled, his crimson eyes flicking to the woman. "What’d you do, princess?"
The girl didn’t look at him, but the corner of her lips curled into a faint smirk. "Nothing you’d understand."
The dean sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Enough. Sukuna, you’re here because of your blatant disregard for class attendance and insubordination. And as for you"—he turned his stern gaze to the woman—"your prank with the fountain and Professor Yaga's car was far from amusing."
At that, Sukuna chuckled. A deep, genuine laugh that made the reader finally glance his way. “The fountain? That was you?” he asked, his amusement evident.
"Is that supposed to impress you?" she shot back, her voice sharp but laced with humor.
"Maybe a little."
"Enough!" the dean snapped, glaring at the two. "You’re both on thin ice. One more incident, and you’ll face serious consequences. Am I clear?"
Neither responded, but their shared look said more than words ever could.
Sukuna didn’t think much of her after leaving the office. Well, not until he saw her again. She was sitting at the back of his philosophy lecture, twirling a pen between her fingers and looking completely uninterested. How had he never noticed her before?
She caught him staring, her piercing eyes narrowing in challenge. Sukuna’s lips twitched into a smirk. Oh, this was going to be fun.
Sukuna didn’t consider himself the type to obsess over people, especially not someone he barely knew. But as the days passed, he couldn’t help but notice her everywhere.
It started small: She breezed past him in the quad, wearing headphones and completely ignoring the world around her.
He caught her in the cafeteria, shamelessly skipping the line with a sharp remark to the guy who tried to call her out.
And then there was the lecture. The back-row seat had clearly been her throne for longer than he realized, and she never bothered to take notes, just sitting there with that maddening smirk.
She was a natural troublemaker, and Sukuna couldn’t decide if he found it annoying or intriguing.
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The history lecture had dragged on far longer than you had the patience for. The professor’s monotone voice droned on about events you couldn’t bring yourself to care about, and you’d spent the last fifteen minutes staring longingly at the window.
The plan formed quickly. When no one was looking, you slipped your bag onto your shoulder, sitting at the back of the class next to the window, made this way easier then it already was. Quietly unlatching it, you took a moment to glance around before swinging one leg out.
The cool air hit your face, as you began your descent down the rusted sewer pipe that ran along the side of the building. Your grip was firm, but halfway down, your foot slipped slightly, making your heart leap into your throat.
“Need a hand?”
The deep, smooth voice made you freeze. You turned your head toward the source and found yourself staring into the sharp, crimson eyes of none other than Ryomen Sukuna. He was leaning lazily out of a nearby window, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, a smirk tugging at his lips.
You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “I’m good, thanks.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You sure? You don’t look like you’re good.”
You couldn’t help but grin as you reached out. “Alright, fine. Help me out, then.”
Sukuna reached over, his grip firm as he grabbed your hand and effortlessly hauled you into the classroom. You stumbled slightly but caught yourself, brushing your hair out of your face.
“Thanks for that,” you said, eyeing him as he leaned back against the desk, taking a drag from his cigarette.
“No problem,” he replied, exhaling smoke slowly. “Now, care to explain why you were scaling the side of a building?”
You smirked, stepping closer and plucking the cigarette from his fingers. “History class got boring.”
He stared at you, stunned for a moment, before bursting out in laughter. “You’ve got some guts, I’ll give you that.”
You took a drag from his cigarette, holding his gaze as you leaned against the desk opposite him. “What about you? What’s your excuse for hanging out in an empty classroom?”
He shrugged, his smirk still in place. “Needed a break from people. They’re exhausting.”
You nodded in agreement, handing the cigarette back. “Fair enough. This is way better than class.”
Sukuna tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “You’re not like most people around here, are you?”
You raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you say that?”
He gestured vaguely with the cigarette. “Scaling buildings, ditching class, stealing smokes, pulling pranks. You’re not exactly blending in.”
You chuckled, shrugging. “I guess I like to keep things interesting.”
“Interesting, huh?” he said, leaning closer. “Anything interesting since the fountain incident?”
You thought for a moment, then smirked. “Not yet, but I’ve been thinking about pulling a prank on the dean.”
Sukuna’s eyebrows shot up, his grin widening. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” you replied, crossing your arms. “Got any ideas?”
----------------------------
For the next half hour, the two of you plotted, tossing ideas back and forth. Sukuna was sharper than you expected, his mischievous streak matching your own.
“How about this,” he said, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “We hang a banner off the clock tower. Something bold—something they can’t ignore.”
“Like what?” you asked, intrigued.
He smirked, taking another drag from his cigarette. “Something that makes the dean lose his mind. ‘The Dean Can’t Catch Us All’ has a nice ring to it.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re insane. I'm in”
------------------------------
The night had gone exactly as planned. The clock tower stood tall and proud against the dark sky, a perfect backdrop for the banner you and Sukuna had hung just moments before. The banner stretched across the tower’s façade, gleaming in the moonlight:
“THE DEAN CAN’T CATCH US ALL.”
You were both giddy with excitement. The adrenaline was pumping as you swiftly climbed down the side of the building, your heart racing with the thrill of the stunt. There was no one around, and the empty campus seemed like the perfect stage for the final act.
As you made your way across the quad, barely keeping your balance from laughing so hard, you heard the distant sounds of campus security. They were probably already on their way, but you didn’t care. You just had to get away.
The two of you darted into the shadows, running down the hill behind the clock tower, your feet slipping on the damp grass as you stumbled over each other in a chaotic, giggling mess. Sukuna’s deep laugh echoed into the night, and you couldn’t help but smile at how exhilarating it felt.
You end up on top of Sukuna and the laughter dies, you both stopped, breathless. Your face was inches away from Sukuna, then his lips crash against yours in the dark. The kiss was hungry, urgent, the heat of the moment overwhelming both of you. You kissed him back, your hands gripping his shirt as his tongue slid against yours.
You pulled away, gasping for air. “You’re insane,” you whispered, your voice shaky.
He grinned, his eyes glowing with mischief. “And you love it.”
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The following morning was a blur of regret. It wasn’t the kiss—no, you’d be thinking about that all day—but the reality of the situation hit when you both received a call to meet the dean.
You stared at the phone, dread sinking in your stomach. Sukuna just smirked when you told him. “Guess we’re in trouble,” he said casually, like the possibility of getting caught was just part of the fun.
The walk to the dean’s office felt like an eternity. You could already feel the heat creeping up your neck at the thought of what was about to happen. Sukuna, however, seemed unfazed. His relaxed posture and half-smirk made it clear that he wasn’t sweating it.
When you entered the dean’s office, you were met with the cold, disappointed gaze of the dean himself. He didn’t say a word as he gestured toward the large screen in the corner of the room.
“Sit,” he ordered.
You both took your seats, the silence hanging heavy in the air. The dean didn’t waste time. With a click of a button, the screen flickered to life, showing a grainy footage of you and Sukuna climbing up the side of the clock tower. The camera angle was so clear that it felt like you could reach out and touch the image of your past self.
You swallowed hard. You’d completely forgotten about the cameras.
“Well, well,” the dean said, his voice cold. “I must say, I’m impressed. I didn’t think you two had it in you to pull something like this off.”
Sukuna tilted his head, a smirk still present on his lips. “You flatter us, Dean. It wasn’t that hard.”
You accidentally let out a small snicker.
The dean didn’t laugh. Instead, he leaned forward, his hands steepled in front of him. “Let’s talk about what happens now. You both went through a lot of trouble to make a spectacle of yourselves. I’m afraid that won’t go unnoticed.”
You braced yourself for the worst, but the dean didn’t even look angry—just disappointed. That, for some reason, felt worse than anything else.
“You’ll each be doing community service for the next month. Helping with after-school programs, organizing student events—something that’ll give you a taste of responsibility.” He paused, staring at you both. “And I’ll be making sure that everyone knows who the masterminds behind this little stunt were.”
Sukuna chuckled. “What, you’re going to make us wear ‘I’m Sorry’ t-shirts while we do it?”
The dean’s gaze hardened. “And you’re going to be cleaning the clock tower every week for the next month. Make sure it’s spotless.”
You frowned, but Sukuna just shrugged. “Fair enough. We made a mess, we’ll clean it up.”
“Not just a mess,” the dean replied, tapping the desk. “A public disturbance. A prank that could’ve ended in a lawsuit if you hadn’t been so lucky.”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh please. It was harmless. No one got hurt.”
The dean shot you a cold glare. “And that’s why you’ll both be on probation for the next semester. One more stunt like this, and I won’t be so lenient next time.”
Sukuna met his gaze without flinching. “Got it, Dean. Thanks for the warning.”
Once the meeting was over, you both stood up and walked out of the office. The tension from the dean’s office seemed to evaporate once you were back in the hallway.
“Well, that was fun,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.
Sukuna snorted, glancing at you sideways. “It’s not that bad. We get to do some good for the school, and the dean will probably forget about it after a while.”
You laughed softly, the weight of the situation starting to lighten. “I’ll just have to make sure my next prank is a little more... subtle.”
He raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. “Subtle, huh? I’ll believe it when I see it.”
As you walked down the hall together, it was clear that while you were in trouble, this wasn’t the end of your partnership in crime. In fact, it was only the beginning.
---------------------
"God, this is so borrrrring," you whined, throwing a glance toward Sukuna, who was lazily wiping down the other side of the tower.
You sighed dramatically, wiping down the dusty old windowsill as the cold air of the tower hit your face. Your back ached from bending over the railings, and you could feel the burn in your legs from standing on the ladder for so long. Sukuna every once in a while glancing over to your bent over body, fat ass taunting him. It takes everything in him to not smack your ass and just shove his dic.....okay okay calm down he tells himself.
"Sukunaaa, entertain meeee!"
He glanced at you over his shoulder, his lips curling into a smirk. "Where you always this whiny?"
You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to him, the playful grin never leaving your face. "Don't tell me you're actually enjoying this." You crossed your arms, leaning against the railing just inches from him.
He leaned back, his eyes narrowing as he observed you. "Maybe I am," he drawled. "You seem like you need a lot of attention. Lucky for you, I don't mind giving it to you."
You rolled your eyes dramatically. "I can't believe you're actually okay with this punishment. You're just so... calm about it. There's gotta be something you're not telling me." You frowned, crossing your arms tighter. "I can't believe I'm stuck here with you doing this ridiculous chore."
He shrugged, clearly unconcerned. "Well, we both messed up. l'm just taking it in stride."
You scowled, moving in closer, the challenge evident in your eyes. "You think you're too cool for this, huh?"
He chuckled, amused by your antics. "No. Just think you're cute when you're frustrated."
You couldn't help the small smirk that crept onto your face at his words. "Well, maybe you should do something about it" you said, your voice lowering into something more playful, more suggestive. Sukuna raised an eyebrow at you, intrigued by your change in tone.
"And what do you think I should do?" Without warning, you closed the gap between the two of you, leaning into him so your lips were just inches from his. Your eyes flicker up to meet his, and you could see the spark of something dangerous in his gaze. You licked your lips slowly, your breath mingling with his. "You know" you whispered, "You could kiss me, if you really want to entertain me."
For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, as if the unspoken tension snapped, Sukuna closed the space between you, his lips crashing against yours with a fierce hunger. You melted into the kiss, his hand reaching up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. The kiss was heated, full of urgency, as if the long night of cleaning had built up an unspoken desire between you. You responded eagerly, your hands gripping his shirt as his other hand slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the raw intensity of the kiss, as if everything around you had melted away. The cold tower, the cleaning supplies, the looming punishment-it all faded into the background as you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours, the taste of his cigarette still lingering faintly.
Sukuna pulled back for a moment, his breath heavy. "Told you I'd entertain you."
You grinned, breathless from the kiss. "Guess I was wrong about you being too cool for this." He chuckled, his fingers tracing your jawline slowly. "You're not so bad yourself" he murmured, his voice low and husky.
Sukuna’s eyes darkened, and before you could pull away entirely, his hand shot back up to grip the back of your neck again. He yanked you back into the kiss with a roughness that made your heart skip a beat, the intensity of his lips against yours leaving no room for hesitation. You gasped softly into his mouth, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue against your lower lip, seeking entrance. You granted it without a second thought, parting your lips as his tongue delved in, exploring and claiming your mouth with a hunger that made your knees weak.
Your hands moved instinctively, slipping under the hem of his 'I'm sorry' t-shirt. Your fingertips traced along the ridges of his abs, feeling the heat of his skin and the way his muscles tensed under your touch. Sukuna groaned into the kiss, the sound low and gravelly, like it had been pulled from the depths of his chest.
“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, his breath hot and uneven. His hand slid down your back, his fingers trailing over your spine in a way that sent shivers down your body. When his hand finally reached your ass, he gave it a mean spank, the sharp sound echoing faintly in the empty tower.
You moan shamelessly into the kiss, hands traveling slowly down, your nails slightly scraping his skin. Your hands find his massive length and grip him through his pants, slowly start to rub him. Sukuna groans, his lips make their way down to your neck, sucking on the sensitive flesh and leaving marks trailing down to your collarbone. His hand then slips into your pants and rubs you through your panties, feeling how wet you are just from a little makeout session.
"So wet already" he whispers into your ear and at the same time he pulls your panties to the side and shows a finger in you. The sudden contact makes you moan louder than you've expected and quickly move a hand to your mouth.
As the soft echoes of the clock chiming filled the air, your breath quickened. The cool stone of the tower contrasted sharply with the heat radiating from Sukuna’s skin as your fingers find his zippers, slowly pulling them down. You felt the weight of his gaze, both commanding and inviting, spurring you on with a mix of thrill and anticipation.
You steadied your breath, letting the moment envelop you. Each movement was deliberate as your hand slipped past the barrier of his waistband, feeling the intensity of his presence. A shiver ran through you as he added a second and then a third finger. Sukuna's smirk was teasing, a mix of arrogance and pleasure, urging you to match his intensity. You grabbed his dick and started stoking it, earning small grunts from Sukuna which made you smirk.
"I'll wipe that smirk off your face real quick, princess"
"I'd like to see you tr....agh" you moaned as he digged knuckles deep into your pussy, quickly finding your sweet spot that made your knees buckle.
"Fuck agh...a l-little warning would've mmmm be nice" you could barely keep it together.
" I told you I'd wipe that smirk off, you've been way too cocky, princess" he whispered in your ear making you shiver, " I think I'll have to put you in your place", with that he places a hand on your neck, squeezing it while his fingers work a brutal pace inside of you, getting you closer and closer to the edge.
"Fuck, mgh S'kuna" you moan his name, the pleasure building up, threatening to release at any moment
Sukuna can feel your pussy contracting around his finger, he knows you're close so he leans in for a sloppy, mean kiss while his thumb goes to work on your clit. You gasp, nails digging into his shoulder and the other squizing his dick, earning a small moan from him but you only focus on the pleasure that you're receiving, god his so good with his hands. Wondering how good his dick will feel around your cunt.
"C-cumming agh, Kuna fuck I'm..." you cum all over his finger, once he helps you through the after shock he slides his finger out of you and licks his digits clean.
"You taste good for a troublemaker" said with a smug grin but before you could reply he has you turned around and bent on the railing.
"Can you keep quiet princess?" He asks you while sliding your pants and panties down with one go, the cold air hitting you so suddenly makes you shiver, spreading goosebumps all over your body. Spreading your legs wider with his to give him more acces to your dripping cunt. You give him a weak nod, your body feels hot and heavy. Sukuna licks the shell of your ear then whispers "Good girl" which has you whine out ever so desperately.
At first he slides his length between your dripping folds, back and forth, teasing you then starts to line himself up to your slick hole, on hand grabbing your hips, sure to leave mark while the other hand smacks your ass again just cause he loves to see the fat jiggling. Your hand grips the railing for support, getting impatient with every passing minute and that god damn clock ticking is not helping at all. Then you feel Sukuna’s tip slowly pushing in, you blow out air, that you weren’t aware of holding in until now. Only hallway in when he slowly pulls out until just the tip is remained inside, your pussy clenching around practically nothing until he shoves his whole length inside of you with one go streching you out.
"Fuck Su..." as you were about to scream out Sukuna's name, he claps a hand on your mouth.
"Oh so you want them to know we're fucking up here?" He waste no time setting up a mean pace, hitting that spot that makes your brain feel fuzzy. He’s big and he knows it, fucks you like an animal againt the railing. Hands gripping tighter, making your knuckles turn white. He pulls on your hair, making you arch your back.
"Never answered ah my question " he grunts in your ear, waiting for your response but you can only moan and whine against his hand.
"Dirtly slut, already cock drunk and we just started"
"Mgh 'Kuna" you muffled against his hand, pushing your ass back to try and meet his thrusts. The clock tower is filled with the sound of your skin slapping against each other and your cunt making wet squelching sounds. The trhill of getting caught only adds onto the pleasure and your embarrast how close you are to cumming. And Sukuna knows, of course he does. He can feel how your pussy pulses around his length, trying to milk him.
"Gonna cum princess? Don't hold back"
You can’t do anything about it, drool leaving your mouth as he angles a bit and feels like he is inside your guts and when he moves his hand from your hair to give your clit a mean pinch you arch your back onto him even more as your orgasm washes over you. Sukuna doesn't stop, his pace getting sloppier but never slower, throwing you into overstimulation.
"S'kuna agh fuck... s-slow down mh" you sound pathetic which thrills him even more.
"Shit princess, it’s like you're trying to milk me god" he says it with a wide smirk, sweat forming on his forehead, he’s close but is determined to make you cum again. His fingers circling your clit just right, his dick abusing your dripping cunt. It's all too much but so good, you don’t actually want him to slow down, you wanna feel every inch of him. His hand finally leaving your mouth so he can grip your hip with his hand and pull you back harshly onto him, meeting his thrusts. He longer cares if anyone can hear you guys, fuck when did he ever care.
"It’s s- so agh gooood~ "
Your eyes are rolling to the back of your skull, hearing his grunts and moans in your ear making your face flush red. The feeling is overwhelming, it's nothing like you've ever felt before. Yeah you hooked up with a couple of people but noone can compare to Sukuna, he exceeded your expectations. God he works his cock in and out of you at an ungodly pace, this man has stamina that you can barley keep up with. His name rolling off your tongue as if worshipping him.
You’re starting to feel hot, like your body's on fire, legs shaking and the pit in your stomach already built back up threatening to let go at any moment. Your mind clouded with pleasure, the world spinning as your body beganto tremble. "S-sukuna I'm gonna ah" you don’t get to finish that sentence, because he bites down onto your shoulder to muffle his moans while you scream his name, cumming hard on his dick, milking him of everythingh he got. Tears leaving your eyes and legs shaking, threatening to give out. You don’t think you ever came this hard, it felt so fucking good. He let’s you ride out your high, then after a few shallow thrust he pulls out of you, hands around your waist holding you up as you both try to catch you breath. Sukuna pulls you upright against his chest and caresses your body with such gentle care while your head falls back onto his shoulders.
"You know, I've never had this much fun during school punishments" he huffs out, pressing a kiss againts your flushed cheeks.
"Me neither, the Dean did us a favor with this" your breath now somewhat steady as you look at him smirking.
"You’re trouble, you know that?” Choso murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and affection.
Musa laughed softly, her hands still resting on his chest. “You’re not exactly innocent yourself.”
“Fair enough,” he said, his smirk widening.
The air had taken on the distinct crispness of late October, carrying the faint smell of fallen leaves and wood smoke. The park, one of Musa and Choso’s usual meeting spots, was alive with the vibrant hues of autumn—fiery reds, burnt oranges, and golden yellows. They walked side by side, their footsteps crunching against the leaf-strewn path, the faint sound of distant laughter from children playing nearby filling the air.
It had been a month now since Musa and Choso’s relationship began, their moments together tucked into the cracks of their carefully constructed lives. Whenever Suguru was with Shoko, Musa would slip out with the excuse of catching up on schoolwork at the library. Other times, Shoko would cover for her, giving her the freedom to meet Choso at random cafés or quiet corners of the city where no one would think to look.
She had learned a lot about Choso during their secret meetups. He wasn’t just the quiet and mysterious guy Suguru called a friend—he was far more complex. Through their conversations, she discovered he had two brothers: Yuuji and Sukuna.
Choso lived with Sukuna, though he admitted his older brother was rarely home. Sukuna split his time between school and boxing, leaving the apartment eerily quiet most days. Yuuji, on the other hand, lived with his friends Nobara and Megumi but visited Choso whenever he could. The way Choso spoke about his brothers made Musa’s heart soften—there was an unspoken protectiveness in his tone, even when he joked about Sukuna’s endless energy or Yuuji’s goofy antics.
And then, there were the little details she hadn’t expected to learn, like the fact that Choso had a tongue piercing. The first time she noticed it, a brief flicker of silver as he spoke, she’d been caught completely off guard. How much more attractive could one man get? It was almost unfair.
“Hey,” Choso said, breaking the silence. He glanced at Musa, his dark eyes warm against the cool backdrop of the season. “You’ve been quiet. Everything okay?”
Musa nodded, pulling her cardigan tighter around her body. “Yeah, just... thinking about how fast this month has gone by.”
Choso’s lips curved into a small smile. “Good fast or bad fast?”
“Good fast,” Musa replied, her voice soft. She turned her head to look at him, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. “Definitely good fast.”
Choso chuckled, his breath visible in the cool air. “I’ll take it.”
They walked a little further, the world around them peaceful in its autumn stillness. Choso broke the quiet again. “So… Halloween’s coming up. Big plans?”
Musa shrugged. “Not really. Suguru and Shoko might do something, but I haven’t heard anything solid yet. Why?”
“Satoru’s throwing a party,” Choso said, kicking at a stray leaf. “You know him—loud music, questionable decisions, and probably some over-the-top costume. Should be fun.”
Musa laughed. “That sounds like Satoru.”
Choso grinned. “You should come.”
Musa blinked, her laughter fading into surprise. “Me? At one of Satoru’s parties? That’s... not exactly low-profile. Remember what happened last time?”
“Think about it,” Choso said, his tone light but persuasive. “Big crowd, plenty of distractions. Shoko can keep Suguru busy, and we can just… blend in. Get lost in the chaos for a bit.”
Musa hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground as she considered it. “I don’t know, Choso. What if someone sees us? Or worse—what if Suguru sees us?”
“ He won't, won't worry too much okay?" his tone is soft and reassuring
“I’m serious, though,” Choso said, his voice softening. “You deserve a night to just… have fun. No sneaking around, no excuses. Just us.”
Musa looked up at him, her heart swelling at the sincerity in his gaze. “Okay,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Choso smiled, his expression lighting up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Musa said, returning his smile. “But if this backfires, it’s all on you.”
“Deal,” Choso said with a laugh. “Now, any ideas for costumes?”
“Something subtle,” Musa said firmly. “We’re supposed to blend in, remember?”
“Subtle,” Choso repeated, his tone teasing. “Got it.”
As they rounded a bend in the park, the distant hum of the city blended with the rustling of leaves. Musa’s thoughts were already racing ahead, the idea of sneaking off to Satoru’s party equal parts thrilling and nerve-wracking.
“Got any ideas?” Choso asked, glancing at her curiously.
She paused, tapping a finger against her chin as she thought. “How about… Pucca and Garu?”
Choso raised an eyebrow. “Pucca and Garu? Like, the cartoon characters?”
Musa grinned, her excitement bubbling over. “Yeah! It’s perfect. Pucca’s always chasing after Garu, and Garu’s… well, he’s quiet and kind of mysterious. It fits.”
Choso laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “So, you’re saying you’re Pucca?”
“Obviously,” Musa said with a mock-serious tone, crossing her arms. “And you’re Garu. It’s not even a question.”
Choso shook his head, still smiling. “Alright, Pucca. I’ll bite. What do I need for this costume?”
Musa’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she clapped her hands together. “Okay, so here’s the plan. You’ll need black pants, a black shirt, red gloves, and—oh, a red heart on your shirt.”
Choso raised an eyebrow. “A red heart? Is Garu secretly a romantic?”
“Of course,” Musa teased, grinning. “He’s just subtle about it. And your signature pigtails are already perfect. You don’t even have to try.”
Choso ran a hand through his hair, chuckling. “Guess I’m a natural ninja, huh?”
“Something like that,” Musa said with a laugh. “And for me, I’ll wear a red dress and put my hair in buns. Simple and cute.”
Choso tilted his head, his eyes softening as they lingered on her. “You’ll look perfect.”
Musa’s cheeks flushed, but she quickly waved him off. “Focus, Garu. We’re talking strategy here.”
He laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Black shirt, red heart, gloves, and my hair. Got it.”
Choso leaned closer, his smirk softening. “You really thought this through, huh?”
Musa felt her cheeks heat up, but she held his gaze. “Maybe I’ve been wanting to dress up as Pucca for a while. You’re just my perfect excuse.”
“Glad I could be of service,” Choso teased, his tone light. “Alright, Pucca and Garu it is."
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Musa stepped into the house after her “study session,” the cool autumn air still clinging to her jacket. The soft hum of the TV filled the space, and she spotted Suguru lounging on the couch, his long hair tied back as he flipped through channels.
“You’re back,” he said, glancing up with a small smile. “How was the library?”
“It was good,” Musa replied, setting her bag down by the door. “Caught up on a lot.”
Suguru nodded, stretching slightly. “You hungry? I was just about to make something.”
Musa’s stomach rumbled at the suggestion, and she laughed. “Yeah, sure. I’ll help.”
The two moved to the kitchen, working side by side as they prepared dinner—a simple stir-fry with rice. It wasn’t long before they were seated at the dining table, the warm aroma of their meal filling the room.
As they ate, Musa hesitated for a moment before bringing up her idea. “So, um, I heard from Shoko that Satoru’s throwing a Halloween party.”
Suguru raised an eyebrow, his chopsticks pausing mid-air. “Yeah, I know. Not even surprised.”
“Well,” Musa continued, her voice carefully casual, “would it be okay if I tagged along? Shoko mentioned you guys are going. Well obviously since Satoru is you best friend.”
Suguru frowned slightly, his protective instincts flaring up. For a moment, he considered saying no, but then a thought stopped him: Maybe I’ve been too overbearing. Maybe that’s why she’s been acting distant.
He sighed, setting his chopsticks down. “Yeah, okay. You can come with us. Just… be careful, alright? And stick with Shoko.”
Musa’s face lit up, her excitement unmistakable. “Really? Thanks, Suguru! I promise I’ll behave.”
Musa twirled her chopsticks in her hand, the warmth of the meal and Suguru’s rare relaxed demeanor easing her nerves. She leaned back in her chair, her smile lingering. “Honestly, I’m surprised you’re letting me go. I thought you’d say no right away.”
Suguru raised an eyebrow, giving her a mock-offended look. “What, you think I’m some overbearing tyrant?”
“Well...” Musa teased, dragging the word out. “You do have your moments Suguru.”
He smirked, shaking his head. “Can you blame me? You’re my little sister. It’s literally my job to keep you out of trouble.”
“I’m three minutes younger!” Musa protested, playfully glaring at him.
“Still younger,” Suguru countered with a smug grin, taking another bite of his food.
Musa huffed, crossing her arms, but the amusement in her eyes betrayed her. “You act like I’m some reckless kid. I can handle myself, you know.”
“I’m sure you can,” Suguru said, his tone softening. “But I’ve barely seen you this past month. You’ve been running off to the library or Shoko’s all the time. It feels like you’re avoiding me.”
Musa froze for a moment, her heart skipping a beat. She quickly recovered, forcing a casual tone. “It’s just schoolwork, Suguru. Midterms are no joke.”
He nodded slowly, but his dark eyes studied her carefully, as if trying to read between the lines. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ve been so caught up with Shoko that I haven’t noticed what’s been going on with you.”
Musa’s guilt tugged at her, but she pushed it down, smiling brightly. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine, really. Besides, it’s nice to see you happy with Shoko. She’s good for you.”
Suguru’s expression softened, a rare vulnerability flickering in his eyes. “Yeah, she is. She keeps me grounded.”
Musa chuckled, leaning forward. “And by ‘grounded,’ you mean she puts up with your nonsense and calls you out on it.”
“Exactly,” Suguru said with a grin, not even trying to deny it.
They both laughed, the sound filling the kitchen with an ease that hadn’t been there for a while.
“What are you planning to dress up as?”
“Pucca,” Musa declared, grinning. “It used to be our favorite cartoon, remember?”
Suguru laughed, the sound warm and nostalgic. “Yeah, I remember. You used to run around the house chasing me, yelling, ‘Garu!’”
Musa laughed along with him. “Well, I’m bringing her back for Halloween.”
“That suits you,” Suguru said with a smirk. “Shoko and I are going as a priest and a nun.”
"Seriously, a priest and a nun? That’s... a choice.”
Suguru chuckled “Shoko’s idea. She thought it’d be ironic and hilarious. Who am I to say no?”
Musa shook her head, laughing. “You two are something else. It’s so dark, but I kind of love it.”
“You should’ve seen her convincing me,” Suguru said, leaning back in his chair. “She said it’d be the talk of the party. ‘Suguru Geto, the rebellious priest.’”
Musa laughed harder, almost choking on her rice. “She’s got a point. You do have the vibe for it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Suguru said, rolling his eyes but smiling.
After a pause, Musa tilted her head, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. “So, what’s Satoru’s costume? Do I even want to know?”
Suguru groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly? I don’t know. He says it’s a surprise, which scares me more than it should. You know how he is—he’ll probably go all out just to make a scene.”
Musa grinned. “Now I’m intrigued. I mean, it’s Satoru—how bad can it be?”
Suguru gave her a deadpan look. “You remember last year’s toga party?”
Musa winced. “Oh, right. The golden laurel crown. The glitter. The... extremely short toga.”
“Exactly,” Suguru said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he showed up as, like, a vampire with a 12-foot cape or something equally ridiculous.”
They both dissolved into laughter again, the conversation flowing effortlessly. For the first time in weeks, Musa felt a sense of normalcy with her brother—a reminder of the bond they’d always shared.
As dinner wound down, Suguru glanced at her, his tone soft "You know I love you right sis?"
“I love you too Sugu,” her smile softening.
And for a moment, as they cleaned up the dishes together, everything felt almost perfect
------------------‐---------
Halloween night approached, Musa stood in front of the mirror in her room, her red dress laid out neatly on the bed. She ran her fingers through her thick black hair, sighing in frustration as she tried to gather it into buns.
“Suguru!” she called out, her voice carrying through the house.
A moment later, her brother appeared at her door, leaning against the frame with a raised eyebrow. “What’s up?”
Musa turned to him, gesturing at her hair. “I need help.”
Suguru blinked, looking mildly confused. “Help with what?”
“My hair,” Musa said, exasperated. “It’s too thick, and I can’t get the buns right. You’re the only one here, so congratulations—you’re my hairstylist tonight.”
Suguru sighed dramatically but stepped into the room. “Alright, Pucca, let’s see what we can do.”
Musa handed him a brush and some hair ties, sitting down on the stool in front of her vanity. “Half down, and the other half in buns. You think you can handle that?”
“Of course I can,” Suguru said, feigning offense. “I’ve mastered more complicated things than this.”
“Uh-huh,” Musa replied skeptically, watching him in the mirror as he picked up the brush.
Suguru stared at her hair for a moment, muttering under his breath, “You have way too much of this stuff,” before starting to brush it out.
“Hey!” Musa protested, laughing. “It’s not my fault I was blessed with amazing hair. Anyways your acting like yours is shorter than mine”
“Sure, let’s call it a blessing, plus mine isn't as thick nor wavy” Suguru teased, sectioning her hair.
As he worked, carefully parting her hair and securing half of it down, the usual teasing fell into a comfortable silence. The sound of the brush gliding through her waves was soothing, and for a moment, it reminded them both of simpler times—times when they were kids and used to help each other out without hesitation.
“Thanks for doing this,” Musa said softly, breaking the silence.
Suguru glanced at her reflection in the mirror, his expression softening. “Of course. You’re my little sister—it’s my job.”
Musa rolled her eyes but smiled. “Three minutes younger doesn’t make me that much smaller, you know.”
“It’s enough,” he replied, smirking as he twisted the first section into a neat bun.
They fell into silence again as he moved to the other side. Once he was done, Suguru stepped back, admiring his work. “There. Not bad, huh?”
Musa turned her head slightly, her eyes lighting up as she admired the hairstyle in the mirror. The buns were perfectly even, and the loose waves framed her face beautifully. “Wow, Suguru, you’re actually really good at this.”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said with a smug grin, crossing his arms.
Musa stood and gave him a quick hug. “Seriously, thank you. I owe you one.”
“You owe me about ten,” Suguru quipped, ruffling her hair slightly just to mess with her.
Musa swatted his hand away, laughing. “You’re the worst. Now I have to fix that!”
“Better hurry up,” Suguru said, heading for the door. “Shoko’s already texting me, saying she’s ready to go.”
“Alright, alright!” Musa called after him, shaking her head as she adjusted her hair.
For a moment, Musa stood there, the warmth of their shared moment lingering. Despite everything, Suguru was still the brother she’d always looked up to.
She quickly finished adjusting her hair, smoothing out any stray strands. As she turned back to her bed, she picked up her long-sleeve red dress, slipping it on carefully. The fabric hugged her chest and waist snugly before flowing out softly, the hem stopping at mid-thigh. She added knee-high black socks and wedge boots, completing the look with a satisfied glance in the mirror.
The outfit perfectly captured Pucca’s playful yet bold style, and Musa couldn’t help but smile.
Suguru’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Musa! If you don’t hurry up, we’re leaving without you!”
Rolling her eyes, Musa grabbed her phone and stepped out of her room. In the hallway, Suguru and Shoko were waiting. Suguru, dressed as a priest, looked his usual composed self despite the irony of his costume, while Shoko, dressed as a sexy nun, was grinning mischievously.
“Hury, we're already late,” Suguru said, crossing his arms.
Musa struck a playful pose. “Worth it, though. I look amazing.”
Shoko nodded in approval. “You do. Pucca never looked so good.”
“Thanks,” Musa said with a grin. “And you two look... disturbingly good. Very morbid. I love it.”
Suguru smirked, adjusting his collar. “We’re stealing the show tonight. No contest.”
“You might have some competition,” Shoko teased, nudging him. “I hear Satoru’s costume is going to be... something.”
The three of them stepped outside, the cool autumn air greeting them as leaves crunched beneath their feet. The faint smell of woodsmoke lingered in the air, adding to the Halloween ambiance.
As they walked toward Suguru’s car, Musa couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. The night promised to be unforgettable—and full of risks.
“Let’s get this over with,” Suguru said, unlocking the car. “The sooner we deal with Satoru’s antics, the sooner we can all just enjoy the night.”
--------------------------------------------
The drive to Satoru’s house was lively, the car filled with the hum of conversation. Shoko sat in the passenger seat, fiddling with her phone, while Musa leaned back in the rear seat, gazing out at the glowing orange streetlights lining the road. The autumn evening was crisp, the occasional breeze stirring the fallen leaves.
Suguru, ever the careful driver, had one hand on the wheel and the other resting casually on the gear shift. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he said, glancing at Shoko. “If Satoru starts anything tonight, you’re on damage control.”
Shoko smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement. “What makes you think I can control him?”
“You’re the only one who even tries,” Suguru retorted, rolling his eyes.
Musa chuckled from the back seat. “Honestly, I think we should just let him run wild. It is Halloween, after all.”
Suguru groaned. “Don’t encourage him, Musa. The last time we ‘let him run wild,’ we ended up explaining to campus security why there were goats in the library.”
Shoko burst into laughter. “That was a good one. Admit it, though—you had fun.”
“I had a headache,” Suguru corrected, though his lips twitched into a small smile.
Musa grinned, enjoying the banter. Despite her nerves about sneaking around with Choso, being with Suguru and Shoko always felt like home.
As they approached Satoru’s house, the faint thump of music became audible even through the closed windows. The sprawling property was lit up with strings of orange and purple lights, fake spider webs covering the hedges, and carved pumpkins lining the walkway.
Suguru parked the car, and the three of them stepped out into the cool night air. Musa adjusted her dress, smoothing the fabric, while Shoko tucked a stray lock of hair back under her nun’s headpiece.
“Looks like we’re early,” Suguru said, scanning the driveway.
“Early?” Musa asked, raising an eyebrow. “There’s already a crowd inside.”
“That’s not a crowd,” Suguru replied dryly. “That’s the warm-up group.”
Shoko looped her arm through his. “Come on, Priest Geto. Let’s see what chaos awaits.”
As they walked toward the house, Musa hung back slightly, her heart pounding in anticipation. She knew Choso would be here—he’d promised. They’d already coordinated how to find each other without drawing Suguru’s attention.
They stepped into the house, greeted by the booming bass of the music and the chatter of partygoers. The air was warm and filled with the smell of cider and faint hints of sugary treats. Satoru, dressed in an over-the-top vampire costume complete with a dramatic cape and fake fangs, immediately appeared at the door.
“Welcome, welcome!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. “My favorite trio has arrived!”
Suguru sighed. “Do you have to announce us like that?”
“Absolutely,” Satoru replied with a grin, his fangs gleaming. His eyes landed on Musa, and he raised an eyebrow. “Well, look at you. Pucca never looked so terrifyingly adorable.”
“Thanks, Dracula,” Musa quipped, her confidence returning.
Satoru laughed, turning his attention to Shoko. “And my favorite nun! Forgive me, Sister Shoko, for I have sinned.”
Shoko smirked. “Don’t worry. Your penance will be delivered later.”
As they moved further into the house, the energy of the party surrounded them. Suguru immediately gravitated toward the quieter corner where some of their mutual friends were lounging, while Shoko slipped away to grab drinks.
Musa scanned the room, her eyes searching for a familiar figure. Her heart skipped a beat when she spotted Choso leaning casually against the far wall, his Garu costume unmistakable with the red gloves, heart-emblazoned black shirt, and his signature pigtails.
Their eyes met briefly, and he gave her a small, knowing smile. Musa felt her cheeks heat up, but she quickly schooled her expression, focusing on maintaining her cover.
They found themselves gravitating toward one of the main living areas, where couches and beanbags were scattered around a large television. People were mingling, drinks in hand, and the buzz of conversation filled the space.
Suguru leaned against the armrest of a couch, his casual stance at odds with his priestly costume. Shoko handed him a drink—a dark, bubbling concoction Satoru had labeled “witch’s brew.” Musa declined when Shoko offered her one, opting to stay sharp and keep an eye on Suguru’s movements.
“Is it just me, or has Satoru outdone himself with the decorations this year?” Shoko asked, gesturing to the fake cobwebs and glow-in-the-dark skeletons that adorned the room.
Suguru snorted. “That’s what happens when he discovers Pinterest. He’s been sending me mood boards for weeks.”
Musa laughed, imagining her brother enduring Satoru’s hyper-enthusiasm. “I mean, it does look good. But did we really need the fog machine in the kitchen?”
“The better question,” Shoko interjected, “is whether we needed two fog machines in the kitchen.”
They all laughed, their voices blending with the surrounding chatter. For a moment, Musa felt a pang of guilt. Here she was, sneaking around behind her brother’s back, and yet these moments of normalcy with him and Shoko felt so comforting.
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” Suguru said, turning to Musa. “What’s on your mind?”
Musa blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, nothing. Just soaking it all in.”
He narrowed his eyes slightly but didn’t press. Instead, he took a sip of his drink and leaned back. “You know, it’s nice having you out like this. Feels like old times.”
Musa smiled softly. “Yeah, it does. I’ve missed it.”
Shoko tilted her head, watching them both. “We should do it more often. Minus the fog machines.”
“Agreed,” Suguru said with a chuckle. “Though I doubt Satoru would tone it down to something simple”
As if on cue, Satoru appeared, his dramatic vampire cape billowing behind him. “Are we talking about me?” he asked with a grin, sliding into the empty seat beside Shoko.
“Unfortunately,” Suguru deadpanned.
“Good,” Satoru said, ignoring the sarcasm. He looked at Musa. “You’ve been mingling, right? It’s not a party unless everyone knows you’re here.”
Musa raised an eyebrow. “I think your party is doing just fine without me making rounds.”
“Nonsense,” Satoru replied. “You’re the Geto Pucca. You’re obligated to make an impression.”
“She’s doing just fine blending in,” Suguru interjected. “Don’t make it weird.”
Satoru threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But if you change your mind, the karaoke machine is in the den. You’re all welcome to serenade us later.”
“Please tell me it’s broken,” Shoko muttered, earning a laugh from Musa.
“It’s not!” Satoru declared, already heading toward his next victim.
Suguru shook his head, sipping his drink. “This party is going to get out of control.”
“Isn’t that the point?” Shoko teased.
Musa watched them, a sense of warmth settling in her chest. Even with her secret relationship lingering in the background, moments like this reminded her why she cared so much about keeping things peaceful. Suguru deserved his good mood, and Shoko was always the glue that kept their group lighthearted.
Still, her gaze drifted back to the far wall where Choso lingered. He was talking to someone now, but his eyes flicked toward her for the briefest moment. Her heart quickened.
She tore her eyes away, forcing herself to stay engaged in her brother’s conversation. After all, the night had only just begun.
Musa caught Shoko’s eye, it was a brief glance, but the small, knowing nod Shoko gave her was all she needed. Taking a steadying breath, Musa excused herself from the group and slipped through the crowd, weaving between costumed partygoers until she reached the quieter, less crowded side of the house.
Choso was already there, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed. When he saw her approaching, a small smirk tugged at his lips.
“Was starting to think you wouldn’t show,” he teased, his voice low and smooth.
Musa rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t hide the grin spreading across her face. “Suguru was hovering. I had to wait for the right moment.”
“And let me guess,” Choso said, pushing off the wall to stand upright, “Shoko was the distraction?”
“She’s the best wingman I could ask for,” Musa replied, stepping closer. “You should really thank her.”
“Maybe I will,” Choso said, his smirk softening into something more sincere. His eyes flicked over her, taking in her Pucca-inspired dress. “You look amazing, by the way.”
Musa’s cheeks flushed. “You’ve already said that.”
“And I’ll keep saying it,” he shot back, the teasing edge returning to his voice.
Musa shook her head, laughing softly. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossible, huh?” Choso stepped closer, his tone playful. “Well, in that case, you’ll just have to dance with me to make up for it.”
She raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider. “Hmm, I don’t know. You don’t strike me as the dancing type.”
“Guess you’ll have to find out,” he said, offering his hand.
Musa hesitated for only a moment before slipping her hand into his. Choso led her back toward the main room, where the music was louder and the energy palpable. The dance floor was packed, but he found a spot in the middle of the crowd where they could blend in.
The music shifted to a bass-heavy beat, and Choso turned to face her, his hands settling naturally on her waist. “Ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied, placing her hands on his shoulders.
They started to move, swaying to the rhythm of the music. At first, their movements were small, hesitant even, but as the song picked up, so did their confidence. Choso’s hands gripped her waist a little tighter, guiding her closer until there was barely any space between them.
Musa felt her heartbeat quicken—not from the music, but from the way Choso was looking at her. His dark eyes seemed to burn with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. She felt like everyone else in the room had disappeared, leaving just the two of them in their own little world.
“You’re not bad at this,” she said, her voice light despite the nervous flutter in her chest.
Choso chuckled, leaning in so she could hear him over the music. “Neither are you.”
Their movements became more in sync, a natural rhythm forming between them. Musa’s hands slid from his shoulders to his chest, her fingers brushing against the red heart on his shirt. Choso responded by pulling her even closer, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured, “You’re full of surprises tonight.”
Musa smiled, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “So are you.”
The next song was slower, its sultry rhythm setting a different mood. Musa’s heart pounded as Choso’s hands moved to the small of her back, his touch firm but gentle. She let herself relax into him, her cheek brushing against his shoulder as they swayed to the beat.
For a moment, it was just them—the music, the closeness, the unspoken understanding passing between them.
When the song ended, Choso leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. “Let’s get out of here.”
She nodded, her pulse quickening as he took her hand once more. Instead of leaving the house, Choso led her through the crowd and up the stairs to the quieter upper floor. The hum of the party below faded as they stepped into the dimly lit hallway, the noise muffled by the thick walls.
--------------------------------------------
Choso leaned against the wall, his smirk returning as he watched her. “You’re really good at sneaking away.”
“Years of practice ” Musa winked, leaning against the opposite wall.
“Lucky for me,” Choso said, stepping closer. His voice dropped lower, softer. “So, what now?”
Musa’s breath hitched as he closed the distance between them, one hand coming to rest against the wall beside her. His other hand brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch lingering against her cheek.
“This,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Choso’s lips curved into a soft smile before he leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both gentle and electrifying. His hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened.
Musa’s fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, her knees weak as the world around them seemed to disappear. She could feel the faint chill of his tongue piercing, adding an intoxicating edge to the softness of his lips.
When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, both of them breathing heavily.
“You’re trouble, you know that?” Choso murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and affection.
Musa laughed softly, her hands still resting on his chest. “You’re not exactly innocent yourself.”
“Fair enough,” he said, his smirk widening.
The kiss between Musa and Choso lingered, the moment between them so sweet, so private, that they both almost forgot where they were. But just as their lips were about to meet again, they heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway.
Before either of them could react, the door at the far end of the hall creaked open, and there, standing in the doorway, was Satoru Gojo—his tall figure framed by the dim light of the hallway. His vampire costume, complete with a dark cloak and sharp fangs, made him look both intimidating and oddly regal.
Musa’s heart dropped into her stomach. “Satoru!” she gasped, pulling away from Choso in a panic.
Choso, equally shocked, quickly straightened, glancing nervously from Musa to Satoru, who stood there with his usual smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Guess I’m not the only one sneaking away from the party,” Satoru said, his voice dripping with amusement.
Musa immediately stepped in front of Choso, trying to block Satoru’s view, her face burning with embarrassment. “Satoru, please… Don’t tell Suguru,” she pleaded, her voice trembling with urgency.
Satoru raised an eyebrow, studying her with an expression that suggested he was weighing his options. “Musa,” he said, his tone turning serious, “you’re taking a pretty big risk sneaking off like this. You know Suguru could show up any time, right?” His gaze flickered to Choso, and a knowing smile curled on his lips. “And you two, well…” He shook his head, a slight chuckle escaping his throat. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight.”
Musa’s face was flushed with anxiety, her mind racing as she tried to figure out how to handle this. She knew that Satoru wasn’t the type to keep secrets for long, but something in his expression suggested he was giving her a chance.
“Please,” Musa said again, her voice softer now, pleading. “I can’t have Suguru finding out like this. I’ll tell him soon, I promise. Just don’t tell him yet.”
Satoru stared at her for a long moment, his lips still twitching with a mischievous grin. “I can’t exactly lie to my best friend,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “But... I guess I’ll keep my mouth shut for now.”
Musa exhaled in relief, her shoulders relaxing for the first time since Satoru appeared.
Satoru continued, his voice shifting to something more playful. “But you should tell him sooner rather than later, Musa. The longer you keep this a secret, the more awkward it’s gonna get. Trust me.” He gave her a teasing smile. “And don’t make me come up here again, okay? You’re making this whole thing way too fun.”
Musa nodded quickly, her face still flushed but thankful for his understanding. “Thank you, Satoru. I’ll tell him soon.”
Satoru's expression softened just a bit. “Now go back to Shoko and Suguru before they start wondering where you went. I’ll stay here and have a little chat with Choso.”
Musa’s eyes widened, but she nodded again, stepping toward the stairs. “Thanks again,” she muttered, her heart still racing as she made her way back to the party.
Once she was out of sight, Satoru’s smile faded, and he turned his full attention to Choso, who was still standing against the wall, arms crossed, clearly trying to figure out how to handle the situation.
“You and I need to talk,” Satoru said, his voice becoming more serious, his eyes narrowing slightly as he approached Choso. Choso’s eyes flicked to the door where Musa had just disappeared, then back to Satoru. “You’ve always got something to say,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable under Satoru’s gaze.
“You're playing a dangerous game” Satoru began, his voice low but firm, “She’s Suguru’s sister, if he finds out you're messing with her ..actually he will find out then you'll be dead”
Choso remained silent, his jaw tense as he weighed Satoru’s words. Satoru wasn’t wrong—Suguru was a force to be reckoned with, and if he found out about this... well, it wouldn’t end well for anyone involved.
“I know,” Choso said quietly, running a hand through his hair. “But I’m not trying to make trouble. I really like her.”
Satoru’s eyes softened for a moment, though his smirk never fully left his face. “I can see that but you’ve got to think about the consequences, not just the fun.”
Choso nodded, though he still looked a little conflicted. “I’m not trying to hurt her. I just—it’s different this time, she's different. I don’t want to play with her, it's something I haven’t felt before" He paused, looking down for a moment.
Satoru raised an eyebrow, sensing the weight of Choso’s words. “You guys going to have to tell him soon. Suguru may be angry with you at first but he'll ease up eventually. ”
Choso gave a short, sharp nod. “I know.”
Satoru took a step back, his hands back in his pockets as he flashed a quick grin. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to figure that out. Just... don’t cause too much chaos, alright?”
Choso watched as Satoru turned and made his way down the hall, back toward the party. He leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair as he mulled over Satoru’s words.
Suguru will find out soon enough, he thought, the weight of the decision pressing on him. But for now, all he could think about was the way Musa looked at him when she asked him not to tell.
--------------------------------------------
Musa made her way back down to the party, feeling a little light-headed from the conversation with Satoru. As she walked toward the living room, she spotted Suguru and Shoko sitting on the couch, sipping on their drinks and laughing. Their conversation was lively, but when they saw her, their expressions softened.
"Hey, Musa," Shoko called out, a teasing smile on her lips. "You find your way to the bathroom okay?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of amusement.
Musa smiled awkwardly, trying to shake off the tension from the hallway. "Yeah, all good. Just... needed a bit of air," she said, her voice sounding a little too forced.
Suguru noticed her discomfort and raised an eyebrow, though he didn't press the matter. "Well, you're back just in time," he said, holding up a beer. "We were about to play a round of beer pong. You want in?"
"Yeah, come join us," Shoko added, her grin widening. "It’s going to be girls versus boys, obviously."
Musa’s stomach twisted for a second as she remembered the recent encounter with Satoru.
Before she could answer, a familiar voice interrupted. "Don’t leave me out!" Satoru said, strolling over with his signature playful smirk.
Musa’s heart skipped a beat. She had just spent the last few minutes with him, awkwardly navigating their brief conversation. Now, here he was, joining the game like it was no big deal. She tried to hide her discomfort, but the way Satoru’s eyes briefly flicked toward her gave her away. He knew what had just happened between her and Choso, and that made everything a little more complicated.
"Great," Shoko laughed, rolling her eyes playfully. "The more, the merrier. Boys versus girls it is, then."
Musa managed a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Sure, I’m in."
She sat down on one side of the table with Shoko, as Satoru and Suguru took the opposite side. The game quickly kicked off, and the atmosphere lightened as the cups were filled, the ping-pong balls bouncing from one side to the other.
Musa found herself gradually getting into the game, her earlier discomfort slipping away as she focused on the competition. Shoko was always an expert at beer pong, but Satoru and Suguru were no slouches either. There were a few good-natured jabs thrown back and forth between the two teams, with Satoru mocking her aim and Suguru pretending to be shocked every time she scored a point.
"Nice one, Musa!" Shoko cheered, laughing when Musa made a perfect shot, sending one of the balls into one of the cups.
Musa’s competitive side kicked in, and she playfully teased, "I don’t know, I think I’m carrying the team here."
Suguru smirked, leaning over to Satoru. "Don’t let them get ahead, or they’ll never let us hear the end of it."
As the game went on, Musa felt the tension between her and Satoru gradually lessen. His teasing comments weren’t about her being caught earlier, and she appreciated that. Instead, he was focused on the game, making the whole situation feel more normal again. Still, she couldn’t help but occasionally glance at Choso across the room, wondering what he was thinking and hoping their secret would remain safe, at least for tonight.
Eventually, the game ended in a close victory for the girls, with Shoko giving a dramatic cheer as they claimed their prize of a round of shots. Musa’s mood lightened as she laughed with her best friend, the unease from earlier nearly forgotten. She was starting to have fun, despite the chaos in her mind.
After the game, Satoru raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, we lost fair and square. But just know, I’ll be getting you back next time, Musa."
Musa grinned, relieved that the tension between them seemed to have dissolved. "We’ll see about that," she teased back, as Shoko winked at her.
Musa felt more at ease now that the night had settled into a familiar rhythm,.
The night was winding down, and the atmosphere at the party was slowly settling into a more relaxed vibe. The sound of chatter and laughter echoed through the house, but at the beer pong table, it had become clear who the true champion was.
Shoko, ever the skilled drinker, had effortlessly outlasted Suguru in the drinking game, and now her best friend was slumped on the couch, looking a little worse for wear. Suguru’s face was flushed, and his movements were slow and sluggish. He'd been drinking a little too much, and it was starting to show.
Satoru, always the responsible one (when he wanted to be), had moved to help him. With a playful smirk, he slung Suguru’s arm over his shoulder and started guiding him toward the stairs.
"Guess I’ll be taking my best friend to my room for the night," Satoru said with a grin, glancing back at the girls. "You guys can crash here, or if you want, I can call an Uber to take you home."
Shoko, looking more than a little tipsy herself, gave Satoru a wave. "We’re good," she said, already making her way to the front door. "Call an Uber. No need to stay here, especially if Suguru’s going to be sleeping it off in your room."
Musa nodded, grateful that she wouldn't have to spend the night in the same house as her brother in his current state. She followed Shoko toward the door, her mind still slightly clouded.
Shoko stopped and turned to Musa with a sly smile. "You should call Choso," she said, her voice a little quieter now that they were alone.
Musa blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice low and cautious, though a hint of excitement bubbled beneath the surface. "I don’t want to make it too obvious, you know?"
Shoko gave her a knowing look, a slight grin tugging at her lips. "Of course I’m sure. You’ve been sneaking around this whole time, and now is as good a time as any for you two to have a little more alone time. Besides, you’re not going to keep him waiting forever, right?"
Musa felt a wave of nerves and excitement wash over her. Shoko was right, of course. It had been a while since she and Choso had been able to spend any real time together, and tonight had been full of so many distractions. She took a deep breath, her heart racing a little.
"I guess you're right," Musa said, nodding with a small smile. "Okay, I’ll call him."
Shoko gave her a playful wink before continuing to walk "Good girl."
Musa pulled out her phone the call Choso letting him know they're leaving and to meet her outside.
As they stepped out of the house, she noticed Choso leaning against his car just across the street, his figure illuminated by the dim streetlight. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and he stood up straight with a casual smile, his hands in his pockets.
"Hey, there you are," Choso greeted her, his voice warm and inviting.
Musa smiled back, feeling a sense of relief wash over her at the sight of him. She was finally getting the time alone with him that she'd been craving, away from all the distractions and pressures of the night.
"Hey," she said softly, walking toward him.
Before she could say anything else, Shoko, who had been waiting by the side walk gave a playful wave to Choso. "You know, Choso," she called out, "you should take Musa home first. I’m good, the Uber’s almost here."
Choso turned to her with a raised eyebrow, offering a polite smile. "I could do that. But it’s no trouble, I can wait and—"
"No, no," Shoko interrupted with a dramatic wave of her hand, a mischievous grin on her face. "I’m fine. Go have fun, you two. I’ll be okay. The Uber will be here in a minute, and I’ll be home in no time."
Musa glanced between them, a little unsure. "Are you sure, Shoko?"
Shoko flashed her a wink and a teasing smile. "Absolutely. You two have a good time. Don’t keep him waiting, now."
Musa let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "Alright," she said, though a part of her was still a little nervous. "Thanks, Shoko."
Choso opened the passenger door. "Shall we, then?" he said in that low, teasing tone that made her heart flutter.
Musa nodded, a smile tugging at her lips as she slipped in the seat of the passenger side. "Let’s go."
Shoko gave them a final wave before climbing into the Uber that just arrived, leaving them with nothing but the cool night air and the promise of some much-needed time alone.
Once they were inside the car, Choso started the engine, the soft rumble of the car filling the space. The drive was quiet, but comfortable—neither of them feeling the need to fill the silence. Musa leaned back in her seat, her mind racing with everything that had happened tonight, from the Halloween party to the kiss they had shared earlier.
Choso glanced over at her, his expression softening. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.
Musa met his gaze, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah," she said, her voice quiet but sincere. "I’m good. Thanks for waiting outside for me."
Choso chuckled, a hint of mischief still in his eyes. "I wouldn’t have left without you. You know that."
Musa’s heart skipped a beat at his words. There was something about how he said it, how serious he sounded, that made her feel both a little lighter and more nervous all at once.
The drive continued with an easy, unspoken understanding between them. Musa wasn’t sure where they were headed exactly, but she was content to simply be in Choso’s presence, away from the chaos of the party and her family. Tonight was theirs, and for the first time in a while, she felt like she could breathe freely.
As the car came to a stop, parking into the driveway. Choso followed Musa to the front door, the quiet night only addig to the anticipation. Once inside, they both paused for a brief moment as the door clicked shut behind them, the stillness of the house amplifying the tension building in the air. Musa's heart was beating so loudly, she was sure Choso could hear it too.
She didn't say anything, with a glance at Choso she stepped closer, hands sliding up to his chest. Choso didn't hesitate - quickly closing the distance between the two, immediately leaned down to capture her lips. The kiss was slow at first but quickly became more urgent and hungry for desire. Musa’s hands roamed too his neck, pulling him impossibly closer as the intensity of the kiss deepened, igniting something in her that she couldn’t quite control. He licked her bottom lip, asking for entrance which was granted without hesitation. Their tongues fought for dominance and the little metal ball making Musa slowly lose her mind.
Choso’s hands moved to her waist, gripping gently but firmly as he slowly began leading her backwards. Neither of them broke the kiss, and soon, they were navigating through the dimly lit hallway toward her bedroom.
The air between them thick with tension, both of them knowing exactly where this is heading, yet neither of them in a hurry to rush it. Choso’s movements were deliberate, guiding her every step without breaking their connection, as if everything in the world outside of them had faded away. The moment their bodies brushed against the doorframe of her room, he leaned her against it briefly, his lips never leaving hers, before he gently nudged the door open with his foot.
--------------------------------------------
Once inside, Choso pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. "You sure?" He asked, his voice low, almost a whisper.
Musa’s answer was immediate, her hands tugging at his shirt to pull him closer again "I'm sure" she breathed out.
And with that the kiss resuming, with renewed passion. Choso’s hands found the zipper on the back of her dress, slowly zipping it down and slipping it down her body ever so teasingly. He gently pushed her down on the bed, guiding her down onto the soft sheets as he hovered over her. His hands were carefully caressing her body, never rushing as if savoring every second of this moment with her.
Musa’s heart raced, hands moving to tangled in his hair. Every touch sending jolt of electricity through her, she couldn’t think of anything else but him.
She couldn’t help the small noises that left her lips, the moment getting more intense by the second. Her hand trembling slightly but filled with determination, found the hem of Choso’s shirt. She hesitated for only a moment before tugging gently, signaling for him to take it off. Choso noticed her movement and pulled back from their heated kiss, dark eyes locking with hers. Without a word, he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head with one swift motion, tossing it to the side.
Her breath hitched as her eyes traveled over his toned chest and arms, the piercing on his tongue now matched by the faint glint of a small barbell on his nipples. Choso’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile as he caught her staring. But when his gace dropped back to her, his breath catching in his throat.
Musa layed before him, her long black hair fanned out over the pillows, her baby blue eyes filled with a mixture of nervousness and desire. She was clad in delicate lingerie that hugged her figure perfectly, her skin glowing in the soft light of her room. The black lace contracted her beautifully against her complexion, and the knee high socks added a touch of innocence that only made her look even more enchanting.
Choso exhaled slowly, his voice low and filled with awe. "You’re perfect" his tone so sincere that it made Musa's cheeks flush even deeper.
Her gaze flickered away, "Don’t say thay" she mumbled, though the small smile tugging at her lips betrayed how much his words affected her.
Choso leaned down, cupping her cheek with one hand, his thumb brushing over her heated skin. " I mean it, you are perfect Musa, every single part of you"
Before she could respond, his lips where on her jaw, placing soft, lingering kisses along the curve. His free hand rested slightly on her waist, grounding her as he continued his tender exploration.
Musa let out a soft gasp when his lips trailed lower brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck. Choso paused for a moment, his warm breath fanning over her collarbone. He placed gentle kisses over it, careful not to leave any marks.
She couldn’t control the little moans escaping her lips, each sound making it harder for Choso to control himself.
He was treating her as if she were the most delicate thing he'd ever held, and yet there was an unspoken promise in the way his lips lingered against her skin - a promise that he wanted to worship her, to show her how much she ment to him.
Choso pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers as he looked into her eyes " Tell me if I'm going too fast, okay?" He whispered, voice filled with concern and affection.
Her hands finding his, fingers interlocking together. "Okay" her voice was soft, filled with trust and she leaned up to kiss him again, pulling him back into the moment.
Choso’s lips never left hers as his hands slid down her back, his fingers deftly finding the claps of her bra. With a soft flick , he unhooked it, the tension of the fabric realesing instantly. Musa froze for a moment, her breathing uneven, "Relax Princess" he softly whispered.
He pulled back slightly, his gaze locking with hers, giving her a chance to stop him if she wanted. When Musa didn't protest, he carefully slipped the straps of her bra off her shoulders, discarding the fabric to the side. His eyes roamed her body with a look of awe, his hands moving to gently cup her breasts.
"You’re beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky with admiration. His thumbs brushed over her sensitive peaks, and Musa gasped softly at the sensation.
He leaned down, his warm lips leaving soft kissed along her jaw, trailing lower until his pierced tounge flicked over her nipple. The cool touch of the metal sent a jolt through her, and she arched into him, one hand quickly flying to his hair and the other gripping the sheets below her.
"Choso..." she whispered, her voice barely audible, her body reacting to every flick and swirl of his tounge.
He took his time worshipping her with his hands and mouth, one tongue-twisting sensation after another building the heat between them that she could no longer ignore. Her thighs pressed together instinctively and she could feel the growing ache pooling low in her stomach.
Choso trailed his lips lower, kissing down her sternum and across her stomach, his movements slow. When he reached the waistband of her panties, he paused glancing up at her for permission. Musa nodded, her cheeks flushed and Choso smirked softly below pressing a gentle kiss just above her belly button.
Hooking his fingers into the side of her panties, he began to slowly, ever so teasingly pull them down. He loved how she squirmed under his touch, his eyes fixed on her face, to capture every reaction. Once the fabric slid down her legs, joining the pile of clothes on the side, Choso slightly leaned back to admire the view.
"You're perfect" he said softly
Before Musa couldd respond, Choso grabbed her legs, gently placing them on each side of his shoulders. He pressed a kiss inside her thigh, then another and another, inching closer to her core. Musa’s breath hitched as he finally dipped his head, lips brushing over her folds in the lightest touches.
Small noises of pleasure escaped her lips, and Choso groaned quietly against her skin, the sound vibrating through her.
When his tongue made contact, she gasped, hand flying to his hair. He started slow, his pierced tongue exploring her carefully.
"Choso, you're teasing..." she moaned, her voice high and breathless, hip bucking involuntarily.
"Patience princess, I want to enjoy every second"
His hands gripped her thighs firmly, holding her in place as his tongue delved deeper, alternating between long, languidly strokes and and precise flicks over her most sensitive spot.
Her body grew hotter with every movement of his tongue, her moans getting louder. She couldn’t think nor speak, only feel as Choso worked her over with a skill that left her trembling beneath him.
"God, you taste so good" he murmured against her, voice muffled.
She gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckle turning white while her other hand slightly tugging at his hair.
He shifted, angling his tongue just right while one of his hand slipped between her legs, teasing her entrance with a single finger. The combination of sensations was overwhelming and Musa’s back arched into his touch, her cries becoming more frantic.
Hearing her like this only encouraged him more.
"You're close aren't you?" He smirked
" Let go for me Musa, I want to feel you come on my tongue."
His voice was enough to send her over the edge, body tensing as the pleasure washed over her. Choso didn't let up, his tongue continuing it's ministrations to draw out every last tremor of pleasure until she was left panting and trembling beneath him.
When she finally relaxed, he pressed gentle kisses along her thighs before lifting his head, his lips glistening as he looked up at her. Musa couldn’t form words ,her body still tingling from the aftershock. She watched with hooded eyes as Choso stood and began to undress. Her eyes flowing his movements, glued to his body, down to his happy trail ever so slowly. When he slid his pants and boxers off, leaving him bare Musa’s eyes widened. God he's huge.
He leaned over her again, hand brushing her cheeks as his gaze locked with hers, "Are you sure?" he asked softly.
" I trust you"
"It might hurt a little at first, but if you want to stop at any point, just tell me."
Musa nodded and smiled nervously. His eyes flicked down to her knee high sock, a smirk tugging at his lips.
" I'm leaving these on, way too sexy to take it off of you."
Musa let out a nervous laugh, her face heating up even more.
Choso kissed her softly, his body settling between her legs as he slowly positioned himself. He interlocked his fingers with hers by her hand, as she lightly squizzed it signaling she's ready.
His other hand gripping her waist as he slowly inched himself inside of her warmth, allowing her to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation.
Musa gasped, her body tensing as she felt him strech her. Choso immediately paused, forehead resting against hers.
"You're doing so well," he whispered softly " Just breathe for me princess"
Her breathing slowed, giving a small nod, encouraging him to continue. Choso pushed further, bottoming her, he stilled, his own breath ragged as he fought to control himself.
"You okay?" He asked softly, his dark eyes searching hers for any sign of discomfort.
Musa opened her hooded eyes, small smile playing on her lips despite the painful strech.
"I'm okay"
Choso kissed her forehead tenderly as he pulled back just enough to set a slow rhythm. His thrusts were deep and measured, his focus entirely on her and how she responded. He wanted to know every inch of her.
Musa couldn’t control the soft moans that left her lips as the initial discomfort faded, replaced by a building pressure that had her gripping Choso’s shoulders.
"Cho..." his name leaving her lips like prayers.
"God, I love it when you call me that"
His pace getting faster, sinking deeper inside of her, drawing moans after moans out of her and each getting louder.
The room filled with the sound of their bodies moving together, their shared breath fogging the room.
Her soft cries of pleasure, the way her body arched to meet his every move to meet his thrusts almost drove him to edge, but he held back to savor this moment with her.
"Cho it feels...ah...s-so good,"
He groaned low, lips vibrating against her neck as he pressed kisses against it. Her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, bodies melting into each other as she was getting close. He noticed how her body's reacting, clenching down onto him, her moans getting louder, he new she was close and so was he.
"Let go princess, I got you"
His words encouraged her as she reached her climax, she cried out his name. Her body trembled, her walls tightening around him making him cum in an instant. He held her close, his arms wrapping around her as he rode out his high, breath ragged and uneven. The two of them layed intertwined, their body still trembling from the aftershock. "You’re amazing" pressed a gentle kiss on her cheeks.
Choso gently brushed a strand of Musa’s hair out of her flushed face, his thumb softly tracing her cheek. “Stay here,” he sat up and grabbed his discarded boxers.
Musa watched him with a tired but content smile, her heart fluttering at how thoughtful he was. He slipped on his boxer and disappeared into the bathroom, returning moments later with a warm, damp cloth.
“This might be a little cold,” he said softly, sitting beside her and carefully wiping her down, his movements tender and deliberate. Musa’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t shy away, appreciating his gentleness.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice soft and a little shy.
Choso offered her a small smile. “You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, his tone warm. After ensuring she was comfortable, he discarded the cloth and helped her pull on a loose shirt she’d grabbed from the edge of her bed.
Once she was settled, Choso slid under the covers beside her, pulling her close. Musa nestled against his chest, her head resting over his heart as she listened to its steady rhythm. His arms wrapped securely around her, one hand gently running up and down her back in soothing strokes.
“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice a quiet rumble in the dimly lit room.
“Very,” Musa mumbled sleepily, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his chest. “You’re really warm.”
Choso chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Good,” he murmured. “You deserve to feel safe and cared for.”
Musa tilted her head up to look at him, her baby blue eyes meeting his soft gaze. “I do with you,” she said honestly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Choso’s heart swelled at her words, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her lips before pulling her even closer. “Get some sleep, Musa,” he said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Within minutes, Musa’s breathing evened out, and she drifted off to sleep, her body relaxed in his embrace. Choso watched her for a while, marveling at how peaceful she looked, before closing his eyes and letting himself be lulled into sleep, the warmth of her presence grounding him.
The night passed quietly, the two of them lost in their own little world, safe and content in each other’s arms.
Being Sukuna’s best friend was both a blessing and a curse.
On one hand, you got to see sides of him that others didn’t. You knew the Sukuna who showed up at your apartment at midnight with greasy takeout after a bad day. The Sukuna who secretly loved watching trashy reality TV and would yell at the screen like his life depended on it. The Sukuna who texted you pictures of stray cats he found on campus, captioned with things like, "This one has your attitude."
But then there was the other side of it. The Sukuna everyone else saw. The cocky, arrogant, and ridiculously hot version of him that had people throwing themselves at his feet. You weren’t blind—you knew how good he looked. And as much as you hated to admit it, there were times when you couldn’t stop yourself from staring a little too long at his tattoos or wondering what it would feel like to have his hands on you instead of casually bumping shoulders on your way to class.
Still, he was your best friend, and you weren’t about to risk ruining that.
At least, that was the plan. Until everything changed one night.
It started like any other evening. Sukuna had invited himself over to your apartment under the guise of “helping” you study, though his version of helping involved sprawled out on your couch, flipping through his phone while you tried to focus on your notes.
“You’re useless,” you muttered, glaring at him from your desk.
“Hey, I’m moral support,” Sukuna said with a grin, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. “Besides, you’re smart. You don’t need my help.”
“You’re just lazy.”
“And you’re too uptight,” he shot back, sitting up and stretching in a way that made his shirt ride up, exposing a sliver of toned stomach and the edge of his hip tattoo.
You quickly looked away, heat rising to your cheeks. “Whatever. Some of us actually care about passing.”
Sukuna chuckled, standing and wandering over to your desk. He leaned over your shoulder, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck.
“You’re stressing too much,” he murmured, his voice low. “Relax.”
“I can’t relax with you hovering,” you said, your voice sharper than intended.
But Sukuna didn’t move. Instead, he reached out, plucking the pen from your hand and tossing it onto the desk. His hand brushed against yours, and the simple touch sent a shiver down your spine.
“What’s your deal tonight?” you asked, turning to glare at him.
Sukuna’s smirk faltered, replaced by something more serious. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the air between you felt impossibly heavy.
“You’ve been acting weird lately,” he said, his tone softer now. “Avoiding me.”
“I’m not avoiding you,” you lied, crossing your arms.
Sukuna’s gaze darkened, and he leaned in closer, his hands braced on either side of your chair. “Don’t bullshit me. What’s going on?”
Your heart raced as you tried to think of an excuse, but the intensity of his gaze left you speechless. Sukuna tilted his head, his smirk returning as if he’d figured something out.
“Wait a minute,” he said, his voice dropping. “Is this about me?”
Your stomach flipped. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been weird ever since that party last week,” Sukuna said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “When I caught you staring at me.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Don’t lie,” he interrupted, his voice low and teasing. “You think I didn’t notice? The way you looked at me? Like you wanted me to—”
“Shut up,” you snapped, standing abruptly and trying to push past him.
But Sukuna caught your wrist, pulling you back. His smirk was gone now, replaced by something more serious, more dangerous.
“Don’t run away,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Tell me the truth. Do you want me?”
The question hung in the air, and you felt your resolve crumbling under his intense gaze. Your breath hitched as he stepped closer, his hand still holding your wrist.
“Sukuna, I…”
Before you could finish, he cupped your face with his free hand, his thumb brushing against your cheek. His crimson eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought he might back off. But then his lips crashed into yours, stealing the words from your mouth.
The kiss was everything you’d imagined—hot, intense, and overwhelming in the best way. His hands were everywhere, pulling you closer, tangling in your hair, gripping your waist like he couldn’t get enough of you.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.
“Fuck,” Sukuna muttered, his voice thick with desire. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “You have?”
He smirked, his fingers brushing against your lips. “You’re my best friend, but I’m not blind. You’re fucking gorgeous, and you drive me crazy without even trying.”
“Sukuna…”
“Let me show you,” he said, his voice dropping. “Let me show you how much I want you.”
You nodded, too caught up in the moment to think about anything else.
🩷🩷🩷
Before you could react, Sukuna’s hands were on you, strong and commanding as he gripped your thighs and lifted you effortlessly onto your desk. His lips crashed against yours, stealing your breath with the sheer intensity of his kiss. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, his tongue delving into your mouth in a way that left you dizzy.
“Fuck, you taste good,” Sukuna muttered against your lips, his hands already tugging at your shirt. He pulled it over your head, his lips trailing down your neck as his fingers worked to undo your bra.
Your breath hitched as he cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples. He didn’t linger, though; Sukuna was a man on a mission, and it seemed like his sole purpose was to ruin you.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he growled, his hands sliding down to tug at your pants. He yanked them off with an urgency that sent a thrill racing through you, leaving you bare and exposed before him.
Sukuna dropped to his knees, his massive hands gripping your thighs and spreading you wide. His crimson eyes darkened as he took you in, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“Fuck, look at you,” he said, his voice rough with hunger. “So wet for me already.”
You barely had time to process his words before his mouth was on you. Sukuna devoured you like a man starved, his tongue plunging into your heat with an intensity that left you breathless. He alternated between long, slow licks and quick, precise flicks that had your hips bucking against his face.
“Stay still, princess” Sukuna growled, his hands gripping your thighs harder to hold you in place. “I’m not done with you yet.”
The sheer dominance in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his assault. He sucked on your clit, the sensation so overwhelming that your head fell back, a loud moan escaping your lips.
“Fuck, Sukuna,” you gasped, your legs trembling as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
“That’s it,” Sukuna murmured against your skin, his voice muffled. “Let me hear you.”
He slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right as his tongue worked your clit. The combination was devastating, and it wasn’t long before you were crying out his name, your body arching off the desk as waves of pleasure crashed over you.
But Sukuna didn’t stop. He kept going, his tongue and fingers relentless as he pushed you through your orgasm and into another. By the time he finally pulled back, you were trembling, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath.
Sukuna wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking up at you like he was the devil himself. “You taste so fucking good,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.
You barely had time to recover before Sukuna was standing, his hands gripping your hips as he turned you around. He bent you over the desk, his large hands spreading your legs and pressing firmly into the small of your back to deepen your arch.
“Look at you,” Sukuna growled, his voice dripping with possessiveness. “Bent over for me like a good little slut.”
A gasp escaped your lips as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back just enough for you to hear his next words clearly.
“I’m going to ruin you,” he promised, his voice low and dangerous.
You didn’t have time to respond before Sukuna slid into you, the stretch making your eyes roll back. He gave you no time to adjust, his pace brutal from the start. His hips slammed against yours, the sound of skin on skin filling the room as he fucked you like a man possessed.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Sukuna groaned, his free hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises. “You feel so fucking good.”
The combination of his rough thrusts, the hand in your hair, and the way he kept pressing into the curve of your back had you seeing stars. Your moans filled the room, each one spurring him on as he drove you closer to the edge.
“You’re mine,” Sukuna growled, his grip on your hair tightening as he pulled you back against him. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own pleasure.
“Louder,” Sukuna demanded, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear.
“I’m yours!” you cried, your body trembling as another orgasm ripped through you.
Sukuna groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his body shuddering as he came.
For a moment, the two of you stayed like that, your bodies pressed together as you caught your breath. Then Sukuna straightened, his hand sliding up your back as he pulled you upright.
“You’re a fucking dream,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
You turned to look at him, your legs still trembling as he smirked down at you. “And you’re insufferable,” you said, though your tone lacked any real bite.
Sukuna chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “Yeah, but you love it.”
And as much as you hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong.
"You’re trouble, you know that?” Choso murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and affection.
Musa laughed softly, her hands still resting on his chest. “You’re not exactly innocent yourself.”
“Fair enough,” he said, his smirk widening.
Weeks had passed since that chance encounter in the library, and Musa’s days had taken on a new rhythm. Every morning, she’d wake up to a text from Choso.
Cho🦝: Good morning, princess. Don’t forget you’ve got that group project today.
It made her smile every time. Their conversations flowed effortlessly, spanning everything from their professors’ quirks to Satoru’s latest chaos.
Musa🐰: He really tried to convince the professor that his essay vanished into the ether?
Cho🦝: It’s Satoru. I think he almost had them convinced until Suguru called him out.
By night, their texts became even more intimate.
Cho🦝: Goodnight, Musa. Sweet dreams.
Musa: Goodnight, Cho. You too.
It was these little exchanges that had Musa falling, slowly but surely. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment her feelings shifted, but now, whenever she saw his name on her screen or heard his deep, calming voice, her heart raced.
--------------------------------------------
One afternoon, Musa was walking through the bustling college halls with Shoko. The brunette was grinning ear to ear, her excitement palpable.
“Suguru and I went bowling last week” Shoko began, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Let me tell you, your brother is—”
“Stop.” Musa held up a hand, her face scrunched in mock disgust. “I don’t want to hear how ‘hot’ my brother is.”
“But he is,” Shoko teased, nudging her playfully. “Honestly, you’re lucky you’re related, or—”
“Shoko!” Musa groaned, covering her ears.
Laughing, Shoko relented, changing the subject. “Fine, fine. Speaking of handsome guys, how are things with Choso?”
Musa felt her cheeks heat up. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on,” Shoko said, giving her a knowing look. “You two have been talking non-stop. Are you finally going to admit you like him?”
Musa hesitated, biting her lip. “Okay… maybe I do. But what if he doesn’t feel the same? I mean, he’s so calm and collected, and I’m just… me.”
Shoko waved off her concern. “Musa, you’re amazing. If he doesn’t see that, he’s blind. But you won’t know unless you try.”
Musa sighed, her shoulders slumping. “And what about Suguru? He’s going to freak out if he finds out I like one of his friends.”
“That’s true,” Shoko admitted with a shrug. “But it’s not like he can stop you. Besides, this is about you and Choso, not him.”
Musa nodded, though her doubts lingered.
“I’ve got an idea,” Shoko said suddenly, her eyes lighting up. “Suguru and I are going out to dinner tomorrow night. Why don’t you invite Choso over while we’re out? See how it goes.”
“Are you sure?” Musa asked, unsure but intrigued.
“Absolutely,” Shoko replied, grinning. “Just text me when we’re on the way back so you can, you know, hide him before your brother loses his mind.”
Musa couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
But as they continued down the hallway, she already knew she was going to do it. The thought of having Choso over made her heart flutter, and for the first time, she felt like she was taking a step toward something real.
--------------------------------------------
The day started off like any other for Musa. Her phone buzzed as she walked across campus, and she couldn’t help but smile when she saw the notification.
Cho🦝: Found this one today, thought you’d like it.
It was another meme of a cat doing something ridiculously silly, this time trying to fit itself into a tiny vase. Musa giggled, her thumbs flying over the keyboard.
Musa🐰: Where do you even find these?
Cho🦝: Secret cat meme stash. I could share, but then I’d have to silence you.
Musa🐰: A little extreme for memes, don’t you think?
Cho🦝: Maybe. But you’re smiling, right?
She paused, realizing she was grinning from ear to ear. Before she could respond, someone grabbed her by the shoulders, making her jump.
“Boo!” Satoru’s familiar voice rang out behind her.
“Ugh, Satoru! What is wrong with you?” Musa clutched her chest, glaring at him.
“What’s wrong with you? Walking around with that goofy smile,” Satoru teased, peering over her shoulder. “What’s got you so distracted?”
“Nothing!” Musa said quickly, slipping her phone into her pocket.
Satoru wasn’t convinced. With his usual chaotic energy, he reached out and snatched the phone before she could react.
“Satoru, no! Give it back!” she pleaded, jumping to grab it.
But he was too tall, holding the phone high above her head as he unlocked it. His eyes immediately landed on the contact name: ‘Cho🦝’.
He froze, staring at the screen. Then, slowly, he turned to her, his eyes wide with mock disbelief. “Cho?”
“Give it back, Satoru,” Musa hissed, her face turning crimson.
“Oh. My. God,” Satoru said, his grin spreading like wildfire. “I knew it!”
“Knew what?!” Musa exclaimed, still trying to grab her phone.
“You and Choso!” Satoru shouted dramatically, spinning around in a circle. “I knew something was up!”
“Satoru, keep your voice down!” Musa pleaded, looking around to make sure no one was listening.
But Satoru wasn’t done. He shoved the phone back into her hands and crossed his arms, suddenly adopting a much more serious expression. “Alright, Musa. Spill. How did this happen? When did it start? And, most importantly, where is this going?”
Musa groaned, covering her face with her hands. “You’re not my brother, Satoru. I don’t owe you answers.”
“Yeah, but I’m like your brother, which means I get to do the overprotective thing now.” He leaned in closer, squinting. “Does Suguru know?”
“No!” Musa snapped. “And he’s not going to find out—especially not from you.”
Satoru raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. But seriously, Musa. How did this happen? You two barely talked before.”
Musa sighed, deciding there was no way to avoid the conversation. “It just… happened, okay? We started texting after a library study session, and now we talk every day. It’s nothing serious.”
Satoru tilted his head, a rare softness in his tone. “Do you like him?”
Musa hesitated, but eventually, she nodded. “Yeah, I think so”
Satoru’s teasing demeanor hardened for a moment, an unusually serious look crossing his face. “Listen, Musa. Choso’s my friend, but you should know… he’s not exactly the ‘settle down’ type. He’s been known to hop from girl to girl when he gets bored.”
Musa’s chest tightened at his words, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “You really think he’d do that to me?”
Satoru sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen him with someone like you, but that doesn’t mean he’s changed. Just… be careful, okay? You’re my favorite little troublemaker, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Musa nodded, a lump forming in her throat. “Thanks, Satoru. I’ll be careful.”
Satoru smiled, ruffling her hair. “Alright, secret’s safe with me—for now. But if Choso hurts you, I’m feeding him to the cats he loves so much.”
Musa couldn’t help but laugh, grateful for Satoru’s chaotic but supportive energy.
--------------------------------------------
The first class of the day was dragging. Musa tapped her pen against her notebook, her attention drifting far from the professor's monotone lecture. Her phone buzzed faintly in her bag, and she instinctively reached for it.
Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard as she debated whether to text Choso. Finally, she mustered up the courage.
Musa🐰: Hey, do you wanna hang out tonight? Suguru and Shoko are going out, so the house’ll be quiet.
The message sent, and Musa stared at her phone, nerves building. A few minutes later, her phone vibrated with Choso’s reply.
Cho🦝: Sure. What time?
Musa grinned, her stomach flipping in excitement.
Musa🐰: Come over around 7?
Cho🦝: I’ll be there.
The simplicity of his response only made her smile grow. She tucked her phone away and tried to focus on the lecture, but the rest of the class was a blur. All she could think about was seeing Choso later.
When the class ended, she quickly sent another text to Shoko.
Musa🐰: The plan’s on. Let me know when you and Suguru are heading back.
Shoko’s reply came almost instantly: You got it. Good luck, girl 😉.
Musa couldn’t stop smiling as she walked to her next class, her heart racing with anticipation for the night ahead.
--------------------------------------------
At home, Musa was pacing around the living room, anxiously glancing at the clock. She had just finished tidying up, ensuring the space looked effortlessly casual, when Suguru walked in, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. He paused mid-step, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied her.
"You've been acting weird lately," he said, folding his arms. "Is everything okay?"
Musa froze, her heart skipping a beat. "What? I'm fine! Why would you think something's wrong?"
Suguru raised an eyebrow. "I don’t know, maybe because you keep pacing like you're waiting for something—or someone."
"I'm not waiting for anyone," she blurted, a little too quickly.
He frowned, stepping closer. "Are you sure? I mean, if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me." His tone softened. "Is it because I’ve been spending so much time with Shoko? I know I’ve been busy, but I never want you to feel left out."
Musa's guilt flared, but she quickly shook her head. "No! It’s not that, I promise. I’m happy for you and Shoko."
Suguru searched her face, unconvinced. "Then what is it? Because if you're not feeling well, I can stay home. Dinner can wait."
"No, absolutely not," Musa said, her voice firm. "I’m fine. You’ve been looking forward to this, and so has Shoko. Go. I'll be okay."
Suguru hesitated, his brows knitting together. "You’re sure? You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?"
"Yes, I promise," she insisted, ushering him toward the door. "If anything happens, I’ll text you, but I doubt I’ll need to."
Suguru gave her one last skeptical look before sighing. "Alright, but don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything."
"I won’t," Musa said, practically shoving him out the door.
"Okay, okay!" he laughed, holding up his hands in surrender as he stepped outside. "Take care, Musa."
"You too," she called, quickly closing the door behind him.
As soon as he was gone, Musa let out a long breath of relief, leaning against the door. Now all she had to do was wait for Choso
As she paced the living room, glancing at the clock every few seconds. The anticipation of Choso’s arrival was enough to send her nerves into overdrive and the fact that Suguru wasn’t home made it all the more thrilling.
A knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts. She quickly smoothed her hair, her heart racing as she opened the door to find Choso standing there, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie.
“Hey,” he greeted, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Hi,” Musa replied, her voice quieter than intended. She stepped aside to let him in, the faint scent of his cologne brushing past her as he entered.
Choso glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on the framed photos of Suguru and Musa on the wall. “It’s a bit weird being here without Suguru,” he admitted, turning back to her. “But I don’t mind.”
Musa’s cheeks warmed at his casual tone. “Yeah, he’d probably flip out if he knew,” she said with a nervous laugh, closing the door behind him.
“Probably,” Choso agreed, a small smirk playing at his lips. He sat down on the couch, his posture relaxed. “So, what’s the plan?”
“Uh, I thought we could watch a movie?” Musa suggested, grabbing the remote.
“Works for me,” Choso said, leaning back into the cushions as Musa joined him.
She scrolled through the options, eventually settling on an action-comedy. As the movie started, she found herself acutely aware of his presence beside her. Their shoulders brushed slightly, and every time he laughed or shifted, her heart seemed to skip a beat.
“You okay?” Choso’s voice broke through her thoughts. Musa froze, realizing she had been fidgeting with the edge of her sweater.
“Y-yeah,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Choso leaned closer, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure?” he asked, his hand reaching out to gently press against her forehead. “You feel a little warm.”
The closeness made her breath hitch. “I-I’m fine!” she blurted, her cheeks burning.
Choso raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin spreading across his face as he leaned back slightly. “You’re acting kind of weird, Musa.”
“I’m not!” she protested, though the crack in her voice said otherwise.
He chuckled softly, tilting his head to study her. “What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing!” Musa said quickly, her hands clenching the hem of her sweater.
Choso’s grin widened. “Is it me?” he asked, his tone playful.
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head furiously. “No! Why would it be you?”
He leaned in again, his gaze holding hers. “Because you’re blushing,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make her heart race.
“I’m not blushing!” she insisted, her voice rising in pitch.
“You are,” he said with a soft laugh, his fingers brushing lightly against her cheek. “And it’s kind of cute.”
Musa’s breath caught in her throat, her words failing her completely.
Choso’s teasing smile softened, his tone shifting to something more genuine. “You know, Musa,” he began, leaning back slightly but keeping his eyes on her. “I think you’re really cute. And… I’ve been starting to like you. And ai don't mean as a friend”
Musa’s heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. “You—what?” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckled again, though this time it was almost shy. “You heard me.”
She stared at him, her mind spinning as she tried to process his words.
“Well?” Choso prompted, his teasing grin returning. “What do you think?”
Musa’s breath hitched, and she stared at Choso, wide-eyed. “You… like me?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
Choso nodded, his expression soft but unwavering. “Yeah. I wasn’t sure at first, but being around you... I can’t ignore how I feel anymore.”
Musa’s cheeks burned, and she felt her heart race even faster, as if it was about to leap out of her chest. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, she looked down at her hands, fidgeting nervously with the hem of her sweater.
Choso chuckled lightly, leaning forward. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said gently. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I just… wanted you to know.”
“No!” Musa blurted, her head snapping up. “I mean… I don’t want you to think I don’t… like you, too.”
Choso’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You do?”
“I-I think so,” Musa admitted, her voice shaking slightly. She avoided his gaze, her fingers still twisting the fabric of her sweater. “You make me nervous. But not in a bad way. It’s just… you’re so close, and my heart won’t stop beating so fast, and—”
“Musa,” Choso interrupted softly, his voice laced with amusement.
She stopped rambling and finally looked at him. His smile was gentle, and the warmth in his eyes made her chest tighten.
“Take a deep breath,” he said, his tone playful but kind.
She did as he suggested, inhaling deeply to steady herself.
“Better?” he asked.
“A little,” she admitted, her lips curving into a small, shy smile.
Choso chuckled again, leaning back against the couch. “Good. Because I like making your heart race, but I don’t want to give you a heart attack.”
Musa let out a nervous laugh, her face heating up again. “You’re impossible.”
“Maybe,” he said with a grin, “but I’m glad I know how you feel now.”
"We have to keep it a secret though, if Sugu finds out we're both dead"
“Eh, I’m pretty sure I can take him,” Choso said with a playful smirk.
Musa rolled her eyes, but the laughter still lingered in the air, light and easy. She shook her head, leaning back against the couch. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I might be,” Choso said, his grin softening as he looked at her. “But I meant what I said earlier, you know.”
Musa turned to him, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his voice. “About liking me?”
“Yeah,” he replied, his tone quieter now. “About you being cute. About liking you. All of it.”
She felt the heat rise to her cheeks again, and her hands instinctively continued fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. “You’re making it really hard to keep a straight face,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Choso chuckled softly, leaning a little closer. “Good. I like seeing you flustered.”
“Choso,” she said, her voice faltering as she met his gaze.
“What?” he asked, his tone gentle but teasing. “Is it wrong that I want to kiss you right now?”
Musa’s breath caught, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t answer right away, but the way her eyes flickered to his lips gave him all the encouragement he needed.
Slowly, carefully, Choso leaned in, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of her hair away from her face. His fingers lingered against her cheek, warm and steady, as he closed the distance between them.
Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, and the world seemed to fade away. It was gentle, like testing the waters of something fragile and new, yet it carried an undeniable spark that sent a rush through her veins.
When they pulled apart, Choso stayed close, his forehead nearly touching hers. “You okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with both care and a touch of amusement.
Musa nodded, her cheeks warm and her heart fluttering. “Yeah,” she whispered.
“Good,” he said with a small grin. “Because I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”
She let out a soft laugh, her nervousness melting into something lighter.
As the movie played on, neither of them paid it any mind. The kiss hung between them, a quiet promise of the secret they would now carry together
--------------------------------------------
A few weeks passed by, Musa leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, as she stared at her brother. Suguru was scrolling through his phone, barely acknowledging her.
“Hey, Suguru,” Musa said, her tone sweet but laced with mischief.
“What?” he asked distractedly.
“You’ve been hogging Shoko a lot lately,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “I think it’s about time I get my best friend back for a night.”
Suguru finally looked up, his brow furrowing. “What are you talking about? You see her all the time.”
“Not really,” Musa argued. “It’s been forever since we had a proper girls’ night. I mean, you’re practically glued to her these days.”
Suguru smirked, clearly unbothered by her accusation. “She’s my girlfriend. What do you expect?”
“And she’s my best friend,” Musa countered, jabbing a finger at him. “Don’t be selfish. You can survive one night without her.”
Suguru sighed, rolling his eyes. “Fine. Take her. But don’t get her into too much trouble.”
“Please,” Musa said with a grin, already grabbing her phone to text Shoko. “We’re way too classy for trouble.”
--------------------------------------------
The bar was alive with music and chatter, the atmosphere electric. Musa and Shoko sat at a small table with drinks in hand, their laughter blending into the hum of the crowd.
“It’s been too long,” Shoko said, raising her glass to Musa. “I missed this.”
“Me too,” Musa said, clinking her glass against Shoko’s. “No boys, no drama. Just us.”
They played a few rounds of pool, Musa managing to win only because Shoko was a little tipsy and laughing too hard to concentrate. Between turns, they shared stories, teased each other, and caught up like old times.
Once they settled back at their table, Shoko leaned her chin on her hand, giving Musa a pointed look. “So,” she said, dragging the word out, “how are things with Choso?”
Musa blushed, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “Good. Really good. He’s… sweet. When he’s not being a flirt, that is.”
Shoko smirked. “Sweet, huh? Didn’t think I’d hear that word about Choso.”
“He is,” Musa insisted, a small smile tugging at her lips. “He’s different with me. It’s… nice.”
Shoko raised an eyebrow, sipping her drink. “Different enough to make you forget that your brother would lose his mind if he found out?”
Musa groaned, leaning back in her chair. “Don’t remind me. I already feel like I’m walking on eggshells.”
“That’s kind of my point,” Shoko said, her tone more serious now. “How long are you planning to keep this a secret, Musa? You know you can’t hide it forever.”
“I don’t know,” Musa admitted, her voice soft. “I just… I’m not ready to tell him yet. Suguru’s so protective, and Choso… well, you know how Suguru sees him.”
“As a walking red flag,” Shoko said bluntly, though her eyes softened. “But you don’t, do you?”
“No,” Musa said firmly. “He’s not like that. Not with me. I just… I need more time to figure out how to tell Suguru without him losing it.”
Shoko leaned back, her gaze thoughtful. “You’re going to have to tell him eventually, you know. He’s going to find out one way or another, and it’s better if it comes from you.”
Musa nodded, her fingers twisting together. “I know. I just—what if he doesn’t understand? What if he never forgives me or Choso?”
Shoko reached across the table, placing a comforting hand over Musa’s. “He’s your brother, Musa. And he loves you. He might not like it, but he’ll get over it. Eventually.”
Musa let out a shaky breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thanks, Shoko. For everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Please,” Shoko said with a smirk, finishing her drink. “Just promise me one thing.”
“What?” Musa asked.
“Invite me to the family dinner when you drop the bombshell,” Shoko said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I want front-row seats for the chaos.”
Musa burst out laughing, shaking her head. “You’re horrible.”
“And you love me for it,” Shoko teased, raising her glass in a mock toast.
As they clinked glasses again, the tension in Musa’s chest eased. She wasn’t ready to tell Suguru yet, but having Shoko by her side made it feel a little less daunting.
--------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, Choso, Suguru, and Satoru were sprawled out in Satoru’s massive living room, pizza boxes and beer bottles scattered across the table. The TV was on, but none of them were paying attention.
“Man, it’s good to just chill,” Satoru said, leaning back and stretching. “No drama, no girls nagging us. Just the boys.”
“Speak for yourself,” Suguru muttered, grabbing another slice of pizza. “Shoko’s probably roping Musa into some wild plan as we speak.”
Choso smirked but stayed quiet, sipping his drink.
Satoru narrowed his eyes at Choso, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Speaking of, what’s up with you lately? You’ve been grinning like an idiot for weeks. What gives?”
“Yeah,” Suguru chimed in, his tone suspicious. “You’ve been awfully chipper. Got yourself a new plaything or something?”
Choso nearly choked on his drink, coughing as he tried to play it cool. “What? No. Nothing like that.”
“Don’t lie,” Satoru said, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You’re a bigger flirt than me, and that’s saying something. So who is she?”
“There’s no one,” Choso said quickly, though the slight pink in his cheeks betrayed him.
Suguru raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharp. “You’re hiding something.”
“I’m not hiding anything,” Choso insisted, avoiding their eyes.
“Come on,” Satoru prodded, nudging Choso’s shoulder. “Who’s the lucky girl? Or is it girls, plural? You’ve got that player vibe going on.”
Choso groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You guys are ridiculous.”
“Which means we’re right,” Satoru said with a laugh. “Who is she, Choso? Spill.”
Choso hesitated, his mind racing. He couldn’t let them know it was Musa—not now, not ever. “It’s no one,” he finally said, forcing a smirk. “Maybe I’ve just been in a good mood lately. Is that a crime?”
Satoru and Suguru exchanged a look, clearly unconvinced.
“Fine,” Satoru said, leaning back with a dramatic sigh. “Keep your secrets. For now.”
“Yeah,” Suguru added, his tone warning. “But if I find out you’ve been messing with someone you shouldn’t be…”
“Relax,” Choso said, holding up his hands. “I’m not stupid.”
“Debatable,” Satoru muttered, earning a laugh from Suguru.
The two boys are unaware of how Satoru knows everything already. He doesn't dare to tell, it's all on Musa to do so.
As the night went on, Choso managed to steer the conversation away from himself, but he couldn’t shake the tension in his chest. He’d have to be more careful—especially around Suguru
Summery: sukuna gets in trouble as usual, but this time he isn't alone in the deans office. A girl is already sitting there whom he never noticed before, turns out there's also someone in school that matches his personality. You catch his attention
Sukuna didn’t bother to knock as he pushed open the heavy door to the dean’s office. He wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries—not that he ever was. The man practically lived here at this point. The dean was already seated at his desk, but Sukuna’s attention immediately shifted to the unfamiliar figure slouched in one of the chairs.
The girl—no, woman—barely glanced up at him. She had a confident, almost lazy demeanor, one leg crossed over the other, arms folded across her chest like she was waiting for someone to entertain her.
"Ah, Sukuna Ryomen," the dean began, not bothering to mask his irritation. "Take a seat. We were just getting started."
Sukuna’s smirk widened as he sank into the chair beside her. "Didn’t know I had a partner in crime," he drawled, his crimson eyes flicking to the woman. "What’d you do, princess?"
The girl didn’t look at him, but the corner of her lips curled into a faint smirk. "Nothing you’d understand."
The dean sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Enough. Sukuna, you’re here because of your blatant disregard for class attendance and insubordination. And as for you"—he turned his stern gaze to the woman—"your prank with the fountain and Professor Yaga's car was far from amusing."
At that, Sukuna chuckled. A deep, genuine laugh that made the reader finally glance his way. “The fountain? That was you?” he asked, his amusement evident.
"Is that supposed to impress you?" she shot back, her voice sharp but laced with humor.
"Maybe a little."
"Enough!" the dean snapped, glaring at the two. "You’re both on thin ice. One more incident, and you’ll face serious consequences. Am I clear?"
Neither responded, but their shared look said more than words ever could.
Sukuna didn’t think much of her after leaving the office. Well, not until he saw her again. She was sitting at the back of his philosophy lecture, twirling a pen between her fingers and looking completely uninterested. How had he never noticed her before?
She caught him staring, her piercing eyes narrowing in challenge. Sukuna’s lips twitched into a smirk. Oh, this was going to be fun.
Sukuna didn’t consider himself the type to obsess over people, especially not someone he barely knew. But as the days passed, he couldn’t help but notice her everywhere.
It started small: She breezed past him in the quad, wearing headphones and completely ignoring the world around her.
He caught her in the cafeteria, shamelessly skipping the line with a sharp remark to the guy who tried to call her out.
And then there was the lecture. The back-row seat had clearly been her throne for longer than he realized, and she never bothered to take notes, just sitting there with that maddening smirk.
She was a natural troublemaker, and Sukuna couldn’t decide if he found it annoying or intriguing.
---------------------------
The history lecture had dragged on far longer than you had the patience for. The professor’s monotone voice droned on about events you couldn’t bring yourself to care about, and you’d spent the last fifteen minutes staring longingly at the window.
The plan formed quickly. When no one was looking, you slipped your bag onto your shoulder, sitting at the back of the class next to the window, made this way easier then it already was. Quietly unlatching it, you took a moment to glance around before swinging one leg out.
The cool air hit your face, as you began your descent down the rusted sewer pipe that ran along the side of the building. Your grip was firm, but halfway down, your foot slipped slightly, making your heart leap into your throat.
“Need a hand?”
The deep, smooth voice made you freeze. You turned your head toward the source and found yourself staring into the sharp, crimson eyes of none other than Ryomen Sukuna. He was leaning lazily out of a nearby window, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, a smirk tugging at his lips.
You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “I’m good, thanks.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You sure? You don’t look like you’re good.”
You couldn’t help but grin as you reached out. “Alright, fine. Help me out, then.”
Sukuna reached over, his grip firm as he grabbed your hand and effortlessly hauled you into the classroom. You stumbled slightly but caught yourself, brushing your hair out of your face.
“Thanks for that,” you said, eyeing him as he leaned back against the desk, taking a drag from his cigarette.
“No problem,” he replied, exhaling smoke slowly. “Now, care to explain why you were scaling the side of a building?”
You smirked, stepping closer and plucking the cigarette from his fingers. “History class got boring.”
He stared at you, stunned for a moment, before bursting out in laughter. “You’ve got some guts, I’ll give you that.”
You took a drag from his cigarette, holding his gaze as you leaned against the desk opposite him. “What about you? What’s your excuse for hanging out in an empty classroom?”
He shrugged, his smirk still in place. “Needed a break from people. They’re exhausting.”
You nodded in agreement, handing the cigarette back. “Fair enough. This is way better than class.”
Sukuna tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “You’re not like most people around here, are you?”
You raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you say that?”
He gestured vaguely with the cigarette. “Scaling buildings, ditching class, stealing smokes, pulling pranks. You’re not exactly blending in.”
You chuckled, shrugging. “I guess I like to keep things interesting.”
“Interesting, huh?” he said, leaning closer. “Anything interesting since the fountain incident?”
You thought for a moment, then smirked. “Not yet, but I’ve been thinking about pulling a prank on the dean.”
Sukuna’s eyebrows shot up, his grin widening. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” you replied, crossing your arms. “Got any ideas?”
----------------------------
For the next half hour, the two of you plotted, tossing ideas back and forth. Sukuna was sharper than you expected, his mischievous streak matching your own.
“How about this,” he said, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “We hang a banner off the clock tower. Something bold—something they can’t ignore.”
“Like what?” you asked, intrigued.
He smirked, taking another drag from his cigarette. “Something that makes the dean lose his mind. ‘The Dean Can’t Catch Us All’ has a nice ring to it.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re insane. I'm in”
------------------------------
The night had gone exactly as planned. The clock tower stood tall and proud against the dark sky, a perfect backdrop for the banner you and Sukuna had hung just moments before. The banner stretched across the tower’s façade, gleaming in the moonlight:
“THE DEAN CAN’T CATCH US ALL.”
You were both giddy with excitement. The adrenaline was pumping as you swiftly climbed down the side of the building, your heart racing with the thrill of the stunt. There was no one around, and the empty campus seemed like the perfect stage for the final act.
As you made your way across the quad, barely keeping your balance from laughing so hard, you heard the distant sounds of campus security. They were probably already on their way, but you didn’t care. You just had to get away.
The two of you darted into the shadows, running down the hill behind the clock tower, your feet slipping on the damp grass as you stumbled over each other in a chaotic, giggling mess. Sukuna’s deep laugh echoed into the night, and you couldn’t help but smile at how exhilarating it felt.
You end up on top of Sukuna and the laughter dies, you both stopped, breathless. Your face was inches away from Sukuna, then his lips crash against yours in the dark. The kiss was hungry, urgent, the heat of the moment overwhelming both of you. You kissed him back, your hands gripping his shirt as his tongue slid against yours.
You pulled away, gasping for air. “You’re insane,” you whispered, your voice shaky.
He grinned, his eyes glowing with mischief. “And you love it.”
-------------------------
The following morning was a blur of regret. It wasn’t the kiss—no, you’d be thinking about that all day—but the reality of the situation hit when you both received a call to meet the dean.
You stared at the phone, dread sinking in your stomach. Sukuna just smirked when you told him. “Guess we’re in trouble,” he said casually, like the possibility of getting caught was just part of the fun.
The walk to the dean’s office felt like an eternity. You could already feel the heat creeping up your neck at the thought of what was about to happen. Sukuna, however, seemed unfazed. His relaxed posture and half-smirk made it clear that he wasn’t sweating it.
When you entered the dean’s office, you were met with the cold, disappointed gaze of the dean himself. He didn’t say a word as he gestured toward the large screen in the corner of the room.
“Sit,” he ordered.
You both took your seats, the silence hanging heavy in the air. The dean didn’t waste time. With a click of a button, the screen flickered to life, showing a grainy footage of you and Sukuna climbing up the side of the clock tower. The camera angle was so clear that it felt like you could reach out and touch the image of your past self.
You swallowed hard. You’d completely forgotten about the cameras.
“Well, well,” the dean said, his voice cold. “I must say, I’m impressed. I didn’t think you two had it in you to pull something like this off.”
Sukuna tilted his head, a smirk still present on his lips. “You flatter us, Dean. It wasn’t that hard.”
You accidentally let out a small snicker.
The dean didn’t laugh. Instead, he leaned forward, his hands steepled in front of him. “Let’s talk about what happens now. You both went through a lot of trouble to make a spectacle of yourselves. I’m afraid that won’t go unnoticed.”
You braced yourself for the worst, but the dean didn’t even look angry—just disappointed. That, for some reason, felt worse than anything else.
“You’ll each be doing community service for the next month. Helping with after-school programs, organizing student events—something that’ll give you a taste of responsibility.” He paused, staring at you both. “And I’ll be making sure that everyone knows who the masterminds behind this little stunt were.”
Sukuna chuckled. “What, you’re going to make us wear ‘I’m Sorry’ t-shirts while we do it?”
The dean’s gaze hardened. “And you’re going to be cleaning the clock tower every week for the next month. Make sure it’s spotless.”
You frowned, but Sukuna just shrugged. “Fair enough. We made a mess, we’ll clean it up.”
“Not just a mess,” the dean replied, tapping the desk. “A public disturbance. A prank that could’ve ended in a lawsuit if you hadn’t been so lucky.”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh please. It was harmless. No one got hurt.”
The dean shot you a cold glare. “And that’s why you’ll both be on probation for the next semester. One more stunt like this, and I won’t be so lenient next time.”
Sukuna met his gaze without flinching. “Got it, Dean. Thanks for the warning.”
Once the meeting was over, you both stood up and walked out of the office. The tension from the dean’s office seemed to evaporate once you were back in the hallway.
“Well, that was fun,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.
Sukuna snorted, glancing at you sideways. “It’s not that bad. We get to do some good for the school, and the dean will probably forget about it after a while.”
You laughed softly, the weight of the situation starting to lighten. “I’ll just have to make sure my next prank is a little more... subtle.”
He raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. “Subtle, huh? I’ll believe it when I see it.”
As you walked down the hall together, it was clear that while you were in trouble, this wasn’t the end of your partnership in crime. In fact, it was only the beginning.
---------------------
"God, this is so borrrrring," you whined, throwing a glance toward Sukuna, who was lazily wiping down the other side of the tower.
You sighed dramatically, wiping down the dusty old windowsill as the cold air of the tower hit your face. Your back ached from bending over the railings, and you could feel the burn in your legs from standing on the ladder for so long. Sukuna every once in a while glancing over to your bent over body, fat ass taunting him. It takes everything in him to not smack your ass and just shove his dic.....okay okay calm down he tells himself.
"Sukunaaa, entertain meeee!"
He glanced at you over his shoulder, his lips curling into a smirk. "Where you always this whiny?"
You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to him, the playful grin never leaving your face. "Don't tell me you're actually enjoying this." You crossed your arms, leaning against the railing just inches from him.
He leaned back, his eyes narrowing as he observed you. "Maybe I am," he drawled. "You seem like you need a lot of attention. Lucky for you, I don't mind giving it to you."
You rolled your eyes dramatically. "I can't believe you're actually okay with this punishment. You're just so... calm about it. There's gotta be something you're not telling me." You frowned, crossing your arms tighter. "I can't believe I'm stuck here with you doing this ridiculous chore."
He shrugged, clearly unconcerned. "Well, we both messed up. l'm just taking it in stride."
You scowled, moving in closer, the challenge evident in your eyes. "You think you're too cool for this, huh?"
He chuckled, amused by your antics. "No. Just think you're cute when you're frustrated."
You couldn't help the small smirk that crept onto your face at his words. "Well, maybe you should do something about it" you said, your voice lowering into something more playful, more suggestive. Sukuna raised an eyebrow at you, intrigued by your change in tone.
"And what do you think I should do?" Without warning, you closed the gap between the two of you, leaning into him so your lips were just inches from his. Your eyes flicker up to meet his, and you could see the spark of something dangerous in his gaze. You licked your lips slowly, your breath mingling with his. "You know" you whispered, "You could kiss me, if you really want to entertain me."
For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, as if the unspoken tension snapped, Sukuna closed the space between you, his lips crashing against yours with a fierce hunger. You melted into the kiss, his hand reaching up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. The kiss was heated, full of urgency, as if the long night of cleaning had built up an unspoken desire between you. You responded eagerly, your hands gripping his shirt as his other hand slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the raw intensity of the kiss, as if everything around you had melted away. The cold tower, the cleaning supplies, the looming punishment-it all faded into the background as you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours, the taste of his cigarette still lingering faintly.
Sukuna pulled back for a moment, his breath heavy. "Told you I'd entertain you."
You grinned, breathless from the kiss. "Guess I was wrong about you being too cool for this." He chuckled, his fingers tracing your jawline slowly. "You're not so bad yourself" he murmured, his voice low and husky.
Sukuna’s eyes darkened, and before you could pull away entirely, his hand shot back up to grip the back of your neck again. He yanked you back into the kiss with a roughness that made your heart skip a beat, the intensity of his lips against yours leaving no room for hesitation. You gasped softly into his mouth, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue against your lower lip, seeking entrance. You granted it without a second thought, parting your lips as his tongue delved in, exploring and claiming your mouth with a hunger that made your knees weak.
Your hands moved instinctively, slipping under the hem of his 'I'm sorry' t-shirt. Your fingertips traced along the ridges of his abs, feeling the heat of his skin and the way his muscles tensed under your touch. Sukuna groaned into the kiss, the sound low and gravelly, like it had been pulled from the depths of his chest.
“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, his breath hot and uneven. His hand slid down your back, his fingers trailing over your spine in a way that sent shivers down your body. When his hand finally reached your ass, he gave it a mean spank, the sharp sound echoing faintly in the empty tower.
You moan shamelessly into the kiss, hands traveling slowly down, your nails slightly scraping his skin. Your hands find his massive length and grip him through his pants, slowly start to rub him. Sukuna groans, his lips make their way down to your neck, sucking on the sensitive flesh and leaving marks trailing down to your collarbone. His hand then slips into your pants and rubs you through your panties, feeling how wet you are just from a little makeout session.
"So wet already" he whispers into your ear and at the same time he pulls your panties to the side and shows a finger in you. The sudden contact makes you moan louder than you've expected and quickly move a hand to your mouth.
As the soft echoes of the clock chiming filled the air, your breath quickened. The cool stone of the tower contrasted sharply with the heat radiating from Sukuna’s skin as your fingers find his zippers, slowly pulling them down. You felt the weight of his gaze, both commanding and inviting, spurring you on with a mix of thrill and anticipation.
You steadied your breath, letting the moment envelop you. Each movement was deliberate as your hand slipped past the barrier of his waistband, feeling the intensity of his presence. A shiver ran through you as he added a second and then a third finger. Sukuna's smirk was teasing, a mix of arrogance and pleasure, urging you to match his intensity. You grabbed his dick and started stoking it, earning small grunts from Sukuna which made you smirk.
"I'll wipe that smirk off your face real quick, princess"
"I'd like to see you tr....agh" you moaned as he digged knuckles deep into your pussy, quickly finding your sweet spot that made your knees buckle.
"Fuck agh...a l-little warning would've mmmm be nice" you could barely keep it together.
" I told you I'd wipe that smirk off, you've been way too cocky, princess" he whispered in your ear making you shiver, " I think I'll have to put you in your place", with that he places a hand on your neck, squeezing it while his fingers work a brutal pace inside of you, getting you closer and closer to the edge.
"Fuck, mgh S'kuna" you moan his name, the pleasure building up, threatening to release at any moment
Sukuna can feel your pussy contracting around his finger, he knows you're close so he leans in for a sloppy, mean kiss while his thumb goes to work on your clit. You gasp, nails digging into his shoulder and the other squizing his dick, earning a small moan from him but you only focus on the pleasure that you're receiving, god his so good with his hands. Wondering how good his dick will feel around your cunt.
"C-cumming agh, Kuna fuck I'm..." you cum all over his finger, once he helps you through the after shock he slides his finger out of you and licks his digits clean.
"You taste good for a troublemaker" said with a smug grin but before you could reply he has you turned around and bent on the railing.
"Can you keep quiet princess?" He asks you while sliding your pants and panties down with one go, the cold air hitting you so suddenly makes you shiver, spreading goosebumps all over your body. Spreading your legs wider with his to give him more acces to your dripping cunt. You give him a weak nod, your body feels hot and heavy. Sukuna licks the shell of your ear then whispers "Good girl" which has you whine out ever so desperately.
At first he slides his length between your dripping folds, back and forth, teasing you then starts to line himself up to your slick hole, on hand grabbing your hips, sure to leave mark while the other hand smacks your ass again just cause he loves to see the fat jiggling. Your hand grips the railing for support, getting impatient with every passing minute and that god damn clock ticking is not helping at all. Then you feel Sukuna’s tip slowly pushing in, you blow out air, that you weren’t aware of holding in until now. Only hallway in when he slowly pulls out until just the tip is remained inside, your pussy clenching around practically nothing until he shoves his whole length inside of you with one go streching you out.
"Fuck Su..." as you were about to scream out Sukuna's name, he claps a hand on your mouth.
"Oh so you want them to know we're fucking up here?" He waste no time setting up a mean pace, hitting that spot that makes your brain feel fuzzy. He’s big and he knows it, fucks you like an animal againt the railing. Hands gripping tighter, making your knuckles turn white. He pulls on your hair, making you arch your back.
"Never answered ah my question " he grunts in your ear, waiting for your response but you can only moan and whine against his hand.
"Dirtly slut, already cock drunk and we just started"
"Mgh 'Kuna" you muffled against his hand, pushing your ass back to try and meet his thrusts. The clock tower is filled with the sound of your skin slapping against each other and your cunt making wet squelching sounds. The trhill of getting caught only adds onto the pleasure and your embarrast how close you are to cumming. And Sukuna knows, of course he does. He can feel how your pussy pulses around his length, trying to milk him.
"Gonna cum princess? Don't hold back"
You can’t do anything about it, drool leaving your mouth as he angles a bit and feels like he is inside your guts and when he moves his hand from your hair to give your clit a mean pinch you arch your back onto him even more as your orgasm washes over you. Sukuna doesn't stop, his pace getting sloppier but never slower, throwing you into overstimulation.
"S'kuna agh fuck... s-slow down mh" you sound pathetic which thrills him even more.
"Shit princess, it’s like you're trying to milk me god" he says it with a wide smirk, sweat forming on his forehead, he’s close but is determined to make you cum again. His fingers circling your clit just right, his dick abusing your dripping cunt. It's all too much but so good, you don’t actually want him to slow down, you wanna feel every inch of him. His hand finally leaving your mouth so he can grip your hip with his hand and pull you back harshly onto him, meeting his thrusts. He longer cares if anyone can hear you guys, fuck when did he ever care.
"It’s s- so agh gooood~ "
Your eyes are rolling to the back of your skull, hearing his grunts and moans in your ear making your face flush red. The feeling is overwhelming, it's nothing like you've ever felt before. Yeah you hooked up with a couple of people but noone can compare to Sukuna, he exceeded your expectations. God he works his cock in and out of you at an ungodly pace, this man has stamina that you can barley keep up with. His name rolling off your tongue as if worshipping him.
You’re starting to feel hot, like your body's on fire, legs shaking and the pit in your stomach already built back up threatening to let go at any moment. Your mind clouded with pleasure, the world spinning as your body beganto tremble. "S-sukuna I'm gonna ah" you don’t get to finish that sentence, because he bites down onto your shoulder to muffle his moans while you scream his name, cumming hard on his dick, milking him of everythingh he got. Tears leaving your eyes and legs shaking, threatening to give out. You don’t think you ever came this hard, it felt so fucking good. He let’s you ride out your high, then after a few shallow thrust he pulls out of you, hands around your waist holding you up as you both try to catch you breath. Sukuna pulls you upright against his chest and caresses your body with such gentle care while your head falls back onto his shoulders.
"You know, I've never had this much fun during school punishments" he huffs out, pressing a kiss againts your flushed cheeks.
"Me neither, the Dean did us a favor with this" your breath now somewhat steady as you look at him smirking.
"You’re trouble, you know that?” Choso murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and affection.
Musa laughed softly, her hands still resting on his chest. “You’re not exactly innocent yourself.”
“Fair enough,” he said, his smirk widening.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Musa stood in front of her mirror, smoothing down the black dress she had chosen for the party. The fabric hugged her figure in all the right places, the thin straps showing off her shoulders and collarbones. She adjusted her long black waves, letting them cascade over one shoulder. Behind her, Shoko lounged on her bed, scrolling through her phone with a cigarette dangling lazily from her fingers.
"You’re sure about this dress?" Musa asked, turning to her friend.
Shoko glanced up and gave an exaggerated wolf whistle. "Girl, you’re gonna make half the guys at the party fall to their knees. That dress? Sexy af. Your brother is gonna hate it."
"Exactly why I need you to distract him," Musa said, crossing her arms.
Shoko raised an eyebrow. "Distract Suguru? Oh, you’re evil."
"Think of it as your chance to finally make a move," Musa said with a teasing smirk. "You’re always talking about how hot he is. Just... spare me the details, okay? He’s my brother, and I really don’t want to know."
Shoko grinned, sitting up and tossing her phone aside. "Deal. But if this works, you owe me."
Musa laughed, shaking her head. "Fine. Just don’t let him hover. I want to enjoy the party without him breathing down my neck."
When they were both dressed and ready, they stepped into the living room where Suguru was lounging on the couch. His eyes flicked up at the sound of their heels clicking against the floor.
His gaze froze on Musa for a split second, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the dress. "You’re wearing that?" he asked, his tone half disapproving, half protective.
"Yes, and no, I’m not changing," Musa replied firmly, grabbing her purse.
Suguru sighed, leaning back on the couch. He wanted to say something else, but he bit his tongue. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, and he knew he needed to back off. "Fine. Just... stay out of trouble."
Shoko winked at him. "Don’t worry, Suguru. I’ve got her covered."
Suguru gave her a look but said nothing as the girls headed out the door.
The moment they reached Gojo’s house, the door flew open as if he had been waiting there the entire time.
"There they are!" Gojo greeted enthusiastically, throwing his arms wide. "Musa, Shoko, welcome to the best night of your lives!"
"Hi, Satoru," Musa said dryly, stepping past him.
"Satoru," Shoko added with a sly smile, "we’re expecting nothing but your finest chaos tonight."
"You’ll get it and more," Gojo promised, leading them inside. The house was already buzzing with energy, music thumping loudly and people scattered in every corner.
The girls headed straight for the kitchen, grabbing drinks before venturing onto the makeshift dance floor. Shoko nudged Musa playfully. "Alright, your turn. Go have fun while I go seduce your brother."
Musa laughed, waving her off. "Good luck. And remember—no details!"
Shoko shot her a wink before disappearing into the crowd, leaving Musa to enjoy the music. She let herself get lost in the rhythm, her worries melting away as she swayed to the beat.
It wasn’t long before her eyes caught Choso standing near the edge of the room. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his dark hair tied back in his signature pigtails. His shirt clung to his chest and arms, the material stretched over his toned body and revealing faint traces of veins along his forearms. He looked effortlessly sexy, and Musa couldn’t stop herself from staring.
He was talking to a blonde girl who was leaning in close, laughing at something he said. Probably flirting, Musa thought with a pang of jealousy. Her chest tightened as she wished, for once, let that be me.
"Nothing," she replied quickly, trying to play it cool.
Gojo leaned down slightly, grinning. "Sure, sure. Totally nothing. But if you need a wingman..."
"Drop it," Musa said, shoving his arm lightly.
"Alright, alright," Gojo said, laughing. "Come on, let’s grab another drink."
They made their way back to the kitchen, where Gojo poured them each a cup. Musa was mid-sip when Choso walked in. He looked surprised to see her but quickly offered a small smile.
"Hey, Musa," he said, his voice low and smooth.
"Hi, Choso," she replied, feeling her heart skip a beat.
Gojo, ever the meddler, leaned against the counter. "So, what happened to the blonde girl? She seemed pretty into you."
Choso shrugged. "She wouldn’t stop talking about her dog’s Instagram account. It was... a lot."
Gojo burst out laughing. "Fair enough. Anyway, I’m off to the karaoke machine. Try not to scare each other off."
With that, he left, leaving Musa and Choso alone.
"You having fun?" Choso asked, leaning casually against the counter.
"Yeah," Musa said, swirling her drink. "It’s nice to unwind for once. How about you?"
He nodded. "Not bad. Better now that I’m talking to you."
Her cheeks warmed, and she tried to hide her smile. "Smooth."
"Just honest," he said, his dark eyes locking with hers. He leaned in slightly, testing the waters. "You look amazing tonight, by the way."
Before Musa could respond, the door swung open, and Suguru walked in. His gaze immediately landed on them, his expression unreadable but his presence commanding.
"Hey," he said, glancing between them. "What’s going on in here?"
The air grew tense as Choso straightened, his playful demeanor fading under Suguru’s scrutiny. Musa felt her stomach drop, but she forced herself to stay calm.
"Just talking," she said casually, taking a sip of her drink.
Suguru’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t press further. "Good. Because Gojo’s about to destroy my eardrums with karaoke, and I need reinforcements."
Choso nodded, stepping aside. "I’ll let you guys handle that."
As Suguru led Musa out of the kitchen, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her brother knew more than he was letting on.
After leaving the kitchen, Suguru kept a hand lightly on Musa’s shoulder as they navigated through the crowd. The energy of the party seemed to blur around her, but Musa’s mind was still lingering on Choso’s smile, the way his deep voice had sent a shiver down her spine.
Suguru’s voice broke her thoughts. "You’ve been quiet."
"I’m fine," she replied quickly, not meeting his eyes.
He frowned but didn’t push, though the protective older brother in him was on high alert. Something had shifted when he walked into that kitchen—he couldn’t put his finger on it, but he didn’t like it.
By the time they reached the living room, Gojo was already belting out a painfully off-key rendition of some pop song, Shoko laughing as she recorded him on her phone.After a while Musa used the distraction to slip away, leaving Suguru to groan and cover his ears.
--------------------------------------------
She stepped out onto the balcony for a breather. The cool air was a welcome relief from the crowded, stuffy house. She leaned against the railing, gazing up at the stars.
"Figured I’d find you out here," a familiar voice said.
She turned to see Choso stepping onto the balcony, his hands tucked into his pockets. He looked even more relaxed now, the cool air ruffling his dark hair.
"Needed some air," she said softly, smiling.
"Same," he replied, stepping closer to the railing beside her. "Gojo’s parties can be... a lot."
"That’s putting it mildly," Musa said, laughing lightly.
For a moment, they stood in comfortable silence, the distant hum of the party fading into the background. Choso glanced at her, his expression soft. "So... you looked like you were having fun earlier. Dancing suits you."
Musa felt her cheeks heat. "I was just letting loose. Nothing special."
"It’s special," he said, his voice low. "You don’t let loose often, do you?"
She hesitated, surprised by how easily he could read her. "Not really. There’s always something to focus on—classes, family, expectations."
Choso nodded. "I get that. You’re always balancing what people need from you, but what about what you want?"
Musa met his gaze, her heart racing. "I don’t know. I guess I don’t think about that much."
"Maybe you should," he said, his tone gentle but firm.
The intensity of his words left her breathless. She couldn’t look away from him, the distance between them suddenly feeling like it was shrinking.
But before anything could happen, the balcony door slid open, and Suguru stepped out. His eyes immediately landed on the two of them, his expression darkening.
"Musa," he said, his voice sharp. "It’s late. We’re leaving."
Musa turned to him, startled. "But—"
"Now," Suguru insisted, cutting her off.
Choso straightened, his calm demeanor shifting as he met Suguru’s glare. "We were just talking," he said, his voice steady.
Suguru narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, well, she’s done talking for the night."
Musa felt her frustration boil over. "Suguru, I’m not a kid. You don’t get to just decide when my night is over."
He looked at her, his jaw tightening. "I’m your brother. I’m looking out for you."
Choso raised a hand, his tone calm. "Suguru, chill. She’s right. We were just talking."
Suguru’s gaze snapped to him, his voice low and dangerous. "I know how guys talk, Choso."
The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Musa stepped between them, her voice firm. "Enough. Both of you."
Suguru glared at Choso for a moment longer before exhaling sharply. "Fine. But we’re leaving. Now."
Musa shot Choso an apologetic look before following her brother back inside. As they made their way through the crowd, her mind was a whirlwind of emotions—embarrassment, frustration, and something else she couldn’t quite place.
----------------------------------
Back at home, Suguru waited until they were alone in the living room to speak.
"You’re mad," Musa said before he could start.
"You’re damn right I’m mad," he replied, crossing his arms. "What were you thinking, sneaking off with Choso like that?"
"We were talking, Suguru. That’s it."
He scoffed. "Do you even know what kind of guy he is? He’s my friend, Musa. I’ve seen the way he flirts, the way he acts around girls."
"Maybe he’s different around me," she shot back, surprising even herself.
Suguru’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
"It means that you don’t know everything about him," she said, her voice steady. "And maybe you don’t know everything about me, either."
The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Suguru sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"I’m not trying to control you," he said finally. "I just... I don’t want you to get hurt."
Musa softened slightly, her frustration ebbing. "I know. And I appreciate that, but you’ve got to trust me. I can handle myself."
Suguru hesitated before nodding reluctantly. "Alright. Just... be careful, okay?"
"I will," she promised.
As she headed to her room, her mind drifted back to Choso, the way his voice had wrapped around her like a warm blanket. She couldn’t help but wonder what might’ve happened if Suguru hadn’t interrupted.
After Musa retreated to her room, Suguru sat alone in the living room, the faint hum of the heater the only sound in the quiet apartment. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly as if trying to hold his swirling emotions in check.
Seeing Musa and Choso together tonight had sparked something primal in him—a need to protect, to shield her from everything the world could throw at her. But it wasn’t just the fact that she was talking to Choso. It was the way she looked at him.
Suguru had always been close to his sister. They were inseparable as kids, two halves of the same whole. But as they grew older, Musa began carving her own path, becoming her own person. And while Suguru knew this was inevitable, a part of him still struggled with it.
He trusted Choso as a friend, but he also knew Choso. He had seen him flirt, date casually, and brush off girls without a second thought. The idea of his sister being caught up in that—being hurt by someone he considered family—was unbearable.
And yet, there was something else gnawing at him. He couldn’t shake the way Choso had looked at Musa tonight. There was a sincerity in his friend’s eyes that Suguru wasn’t used to seeing, and it unsettled him.
"Maybe he’s different around me," Musa’s words echoed in his mind.
Suguru frowned, his protective instincts clashing with the nagging possibility that she might be right.
---------------------------------------
Musa groaned as her phone buzzed on her nightstand. She reached for it, squinting at the screen. It was a text from Shoko.
My sanity: Morning, sunshine. So… how are you? Spill. Your bro looked like he was about to explode after catching you and Choso on the balcony. 👀
Musa let out a frustrated sigh, tossing her phone onto the bed. She wasn’t ready to deal with Suguru—or anyone else—after last night. The tension in the kitchen, the way Suguru had glared at Choso, it was all too much.
She resolved to stay in bed, hiding from the world for the day. Around noon, her phone buzzed again, it was Suguru
3Minute elder: At Gojo’s for a bit. Don’t burn the place down.
Musa exhaled a sigh of relief. At least she wouldn’t have to face her brother today.
------------------------------------
Suguru sat slouched on Gojo’s couch, a coffee in hand. Choso leaned against the counter in the kitchen while Gojo rummaged through the fridge, chattering about the leftovers from the party.
"Last night was wild, huh?" Gojo said, grinning. "I scored with that chick from my econ class. You know, the one with the—"
"Nobody cares," Suguru interrupted, rolling his eyes.
Gojo ignored him, continuing his ramble about how great the night was, while Suguru’s gaze shifted to Choso.
"So," he said casually, though his tone carried an edge. "What’s your deal?"
Choso raised an eyebrow. "My deal?"
"With my sister," Suguru clarified, his eyes narrowing.
Choso sighed, setting his drink down. "Look, we were just talking. That’s it."
Suguru leaned forward, his voice low. "She’s not like the other girls you flirt with, Choso. I’m serious—don’t think about her like that. We’re friends, and I don’t want things getting messy."
Choso met his gaze steadily. "Suguru, I respect you. And I respect Musa. She’s nice, and I wouldn’t hurt her. I promise."
Though the words were reassuring, Suguru couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in his gut. He nodded reluctantly, deciding to let it slide for now. Maybe he was just overthinking things.
Gojo, oblivious to the tension, plopped down on the couch. "Man, you two are so serious. Lighten up. Did you see how wasted Yuta got last night? That kid’s never gonna live it down."
The conversation shifted, and the boys spent the afternoon laughing and teasing each other. But Suguru’s mind lingered on Musa and Choso, the nagging feeling that something was brewing between them refusing to go away.
--------------------------------------
The next day at school Musa walked into the hallway, spotting Shoko leaning against her locker. Her friend waved her over, her face lighting up with mischief.
"Hey," Shoko greeted, slinging an arm around Musa’s shoulders. "So, about the party..."
Musa groaned. "Please don’t start."
"Oh, I’m starting," Shoko teased. "Your brother and I were really getting into it, you know—until he saw you and Choso on the balcony."
Musa cringed, covering her ears. "Nope. I don’t need the details. Gross."
Shoko laughed, clearly enjoying her discomfort. "Fine, fine. But speaking of you and Choso..."
Musa sighed. "I don’t know. I think he was flirting with me. And he’s so... hot. But what am I supposed to do? He’s Suguru’s friend. And it’s not like we have any classes together."
Shoko smirked. "Sounds like you’re smitten."
"Shut up," Musa muttered, her cheeks turning pink. "It’s complicated. Every time he’s over, Suguru’s around. It’s not like I can just... make a move."
"Well," Shoko said thoughtfully, "if he’s really into you, he’ll find a way. And if he doesn’t, maybe you should take matters into your own hands."
Musa hesitated, her mind racing with possibilities. Could she really make the first move? Would Choso even be interested, or was she just imagining things?
"Anyway," Shoko added with a wink, "you’re not doing yourself any favors by playing it safe. Life’s too short."
Musa sighed, knowing her friend was right. But as she walked to her next class, she couldn’t help but wonder—what would happen if she dared to take a chance with Choso?
-------------------------------------
She sat hunched over her books in the quiet library, the soft rustle of pages and the faint hum of the air conditioner her only company. She was deep in her studies when a shadow loomed over her table. Startled, she looked up to find Choso standing there, hands in his pockets, his usual calm demeanor slightly tinged with hesitation.
“Hey,” he began, his voice soft so as not to disturb the other students. “I wanted to apologize for the other night. At the party.”
Musa blinked in surprise, setting her pen down. “Oh… it’s fine, really.”
Choso rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze dropping briefly to the floor. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble. Especially with Suguru. I know how he is.”
At that, Musa laughed lightly, a sound that seemed to ease Choso’s nerves. “Suguru’s been like that since… well, since boys started noticing me. It’s kind of his thing. He thinks he’s some kind of bodyguard.”
Choso smirked, his confidence slowly returning. “I noticed.”
“Right?!” Musa leaned back in her chair, grinning. “It’s a miracle I even had my first kiss. Most guys run for the hills once Suguru starts glaring at them. I wouldn’t put it past him to pay one to stop talking to me.”
The thought made Choso chuckle. “Sounds like him.”
They fell into an easy rhythm after that, their conversation shifting to lighter topics. Choso asked her about her interests, and Musa’s face lit up as she shared her dream of becoming a tattoo artist. She even flipped through her sketchbook to show him some of her designs, her enthusiasm infectious.
“You’re really talented,” Choso said earnestly, admiring the intricate linework of a floral piece she’d drawn. “I could see that on someone’s skin.”
Her cheeks warmed at the compliment. “Thanks. I’ve been practicing for years.”
Their conversation drifted from tattoos to study tips, and before long, Choso found himself helping her work through a particularly tricky subject. They were so engrossed that neither of them noticed the faint sound of footsteps in the hallway until it was too late.
Unbeknownst to them, Satoru Gojo had been wandering the halls, his usual mischievous boredom leading him past the library. He paused mid-step when he caught sight of Musa and Choso through the glass doors. The grin that spread across his face was instantaneous, his sunglasses slipping down his nose as he took in the scene.
“Oh, Suguru’s gonna love this,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head as he walked away, his laughter echoing faintly down the corridor.
Back inside the library, Musa and Choso remained blissfully unaware, their focus entirely on each other. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she had the faintest sense of foreboding—like trouble was lurking just around the corner.
As the study session came to a close, Musa looked up from her books, the weight of the afternoon lifting from her shoulders. “Thanks for all the help, Choso,” she said, her smile warm. “I actually understand it a lot better now.”
Choso returned the smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “Glad I could help. It was nice to hang out like this. We should do it more often.”
Musa hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of her notebook. “I don’t want to make things weird with Suguru... You know how he is. I don’t want you two to fall out over me.”
Choso tilted his head slightly, his expression softening. “Suguru’s my friend, but he needs to let go at some point. I understand where you're coming from, though,” he added, his voice quiet.
“Still doesn’t stop him from trying to control everything.”
His gaze dropped to her lips for a brief moment before he cleared his throat, his smile turning a little more uncertain. “yeah Ibknow, but it was nice. I’ll see you around, Musa.”
Her heart fluttered, something unspoken hanging in the air between them. Musa nodded, her throat suddenly dry. “Yeah, see you.”
Choso turned to leave, but something lingered in the way he looked at her, something that made Musa’s chest tighten with a mixture of excitement and unease. As she watched him walk away, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted—something that couldn’t be undone.
On the walk back home, Choso couldn’t stop thinking about her. His mind kept drifting to Musa, her laughter, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her art. Beautiful and talented, he thought, his heart racing in a way he wasn’t used to. He hadn’t expected the pull he felt when he was around her.
Maybe Suguru would forgive him, he thought, if Musa asked him to. She seemed to like him, and the idea of spending more time with her filled him with a quiet kind of hope. But at the same time, he didn’t want to sacrifice his bond with Suguru, the friendship that had been built over years. Yet, something felt different when it came to Musa, he never felt like this with the other girls he took interest in. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but whatever it was, it was enough to keep his mind racing, long after he’d left the library.
------------------------------------
As the night grew darker, Choso’s thoughts remained fixed on her, wondering just how far this would go, and what it all meant.
Musa stepped into the house, the mouthwatering aroma of pizza filling the air. Her stomach growled, and she smiled, relieved to be home after a long study session. She kicked off her shoes and made her way into the living room, where Suguru was lounging on the couch, a relaxed smile on his face as he greeted her.
"How’d the studying go?" he asked, glancing up from his phone.
"Good," Musa replied casually, though her mind briefly flashed to Choso. She pushed the thought away, not daring to mention him. It would only complicate things.
Suguru nodded, his attention shifting back to his phone for a moment before he sat up a bit. "By the way, I’ve been thinking about something. About Shoko actually. She and I, well... we’ve been getting along pretty well lately." He looked at her with an almost playful seriousness. "I want to ask her out. Is that okay with you?"
Musa blinked in surprise, smile creeping up on her face. Shoko really liked Suguru and deserved someone who treated her right, someone who actually appreciated her for more than just her looks. Musa smiled, nodding. "I don’t mind at all. Honestly, I think Shoko deserves someone who'll treat her the way she deserves—not just someone who wants to, you know, sleep with her and move on."
Suguru raised an eyebrow, a small smirk on his face. "I thought you’d say that. But just don’t tell Shoko. I want to be the one to tell her."
Musa paused, thinking. "Of course. If you want to make it special." She smiled, her voice soft. "You know, she loves tea and the beach. And she’s always liked getting flowers—especially those little wildflowers that grow around the city."
Suguru nodded as he listened, his eyes narrowing in focus as he mentally noted her details. "Got it. Thanks."
For a moment, Musa thought about telling him about Choso—how he was different from the other guys, how she felt something unspoken between them—but she stopped herself. She wasn’t sure how Suguru would react, and right now, he was focused on Shoko. Instead, she gave her brother a warm smile and said, "Good luck, Suguru. I’m sure it’ll go great."
Suguru smiled back, his expression softening for a moment before he turned his attention back to his phone. "Thanks, sis. I’ll keep you posted."
Musa made her way to her room, her heart a little heavier with the thought of Choso lingering in the back of her mind. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at her, the way his presence had made her feel. As she settled on her bed, she pulled out her phone and quickly typed a message to him:
“Hey, thanks again for today. I had fun. :)”
She hesitated for just a second before hitting send, the butterflies in her stomach not quite settling. It was strange, but she couldn’t deny the pull she felt toward him. The thought of Suguru finding out sent a small knot of worry through her chest, but for now, she focused on the moment, waiting for Choso’s reply.
Musa stared at the screen of her phone as the message to Choso sat there, waiting. She bit her lip nervously, wondering if she should add something more, but instead, she simply let it be. Her thumb hovered over the "send" button, and she almost reconsidered—then her phone vibrated in her hand. She quickly glanced at the message from Choso:
“Anytime. I had fun too. You’re really easy to talk to, Musa. Let’s do it again sometime.”
Her heart fluttered again, a warmth spreading across her chest. She smiled, her fingers moving almost automatically to respond:
“I’d like that. Maybe next time, I can show you more my sketches and paintings?”
She hit send before she could second-guess herself, feeling a rush of excitement mixed with nerves. It felt like the first real step in something she wasn’t entirely sure of but also couldn’t ignore.
As she waited for his reply, her mind drifted back to Suguru and Shoko. She could tell Suguru had been thinking about Shoko a lot lately. It made sense—he was always looking out for people in his own way, even if he could be overprotective at times. She hoped everything would go well for him, for both of them. But there was still a piece of her mind that couldn’t quite shake the thought of Choso.
Choso’s message came a few minutes later:
“I’d like that a lot. I’ve been wanting to get a tattoo for a while... maybe you could help me design one?”
Musa’s fingers hovered over the screen, her heart pounding at the thought of designing something for him. For Choso. She could already picture it—something simple yet meaningful, something that represented him. She quickly typed back:
“I’d love to! I’ll think of some ideas. I can’t wait to help you with it.”
As she set her phone down for a moment, a small grin tugged at her lips. She felt a surge of anticipation for the next time they could hang out. But the closer she got to him, the more her mind wandered to what this could mean. Choso was different—she could sense it. And something inside her stirred at the thought of what might happen between them.
Musa sat on her bed, her phone still clutched in her hands as she replayed Choso's messages in her mind. Her heart raced, her thoughts a swirl of excitement and nervous energy. She couldn’t help it—she was grinning from ear to ear, practically glowing with the thoughts of their next meeting. She’d never been so caught up in something before, and it felt both exhilarating and nerve-wracking.
As she leaned back, still grinning like an idiot, she heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching her door. Before she could even compose herself, it creaked open just enough for Suguru to poke his head in.
Musa’s face immediately flushed, her grin widening as she scrambled to hide her phone, but it was too late—Suguru had already seen the way her cheeks were practically glowing.
"Alright, what’s going on?" Suguru asked, raising an eyebrow as he stepped into the room. His voice was playful, but there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes. "What’s got you looking like you just won the lottery?"
Musa could barely contain her smile, feeling the heat of her blush spread down her neck. “N-Nothing, I’m just... tired, you know?” she stammered, trying to act casual, but her wide grin betrayed her. “and happy, I guess.”
Suguru tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. He walked further into the room, his gaze narrowing in on her. “You’re way too happy for someone who’s just ‘tired.’ What’s really going on, huh?”
Musa quickly tried to redirect the conversation, but she couldn’t help the way her heart skipped at the thought of Choso. "It’s nothing, really. Just... stuff," she said, her voice a little too high-pitched.
Suguru smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “Stuff, huh? I don’t buy it. You’ve got that look on your face. Like you’re about to burst with secrets.”
Musa let out an awkward laugh, glancing away from her brother’s sharp gaze. “It’s just... a friend of mine. We were chatting earlier, that’s all.”
“Hmm…” Suguru hummed, his smirk growing. “A ‘friend,’ huh? Is that what you’re calling him now?”
Musa’s heart raced as she glanced back at him, her face a deep shade of red. She tried to suppress the grin, but it was useless. “Suguru, stop! You’re being weird.”
Suguru chuckled at her reaction, clearly enjoying her flustered state. “Well, if you’re happy, I guess I won’t press it. Just know, I’m keeping an eye on you, brat.”
Musa groaned, feeling like she was about to melt into the bed. “Seriously, can you just go away? I’m tired and trying to relax.”
Suguru gave her one last look, his playful grin never fading. “Alright, alright. But if I find out who’s making my sister so happy, I’m gonna have words with him.”
“Goodnight, Suguru!” Musa called out, burying her face in her pillow, still grinning uncontrollably.
As Suguru walked out and closed the door behind him, Musa finally let herself laugh, her heart still fluttering with excitement. What had just happened? She barely even knew how to process it.
“You’re trouble, you know that?” Choso murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and affection.
Musa laughed softly, her hands still resting on his chest. “You’re not exactly innocent yourself.”
“Fair enough,” he said, his smirk widening.
×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××
The soft hum of conversation and the clinking of mugs filled the cozy living room of Suguru’s apartment. He and Choso sat at the kitchen counter, both nursing cups of coffee and laughing about something Gojo had done earlier that week—a ridiculous prank involving neon paint and the debate club’s posters.
“You’d think by now, they’d ban him from campus activities,” Choso chuckled, shaking his head.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they just gave up,” Suguru replied, grinning. “Gojo’s like a tornado in human form.”
The sound of Suguru’s bedroom door creaking open interrupted their laughter.
“Hey, Suguru!” Musa’s voice carried through the apartment. “I borrowed your band tee, okay? I’m heading out with Shoko in a bit!”
Suguru froze mid-sip, his brow furrowing. “Wait, what band tee?” he called back, already annoyed.
Before he could get an answer, Musa appeared in the kitchen doorway.
Choso turned his head, his breath catching in his throat.
There she stood, long black wavy hair cascading down her back like ink, baby blue eyes sparkling with excitement. She wore one of Suguru’s oversized band t-shirts, paired with tiny shorts that barely peeked out from underneath, and thigh-high boots that hugged her legs perfectly. She looked effortlessly stunning, the kind of person who could turn heads without even trying.
“Oh,” she said, clearly startled to see someone other than her brother. “I didn’t realize we had company.”
Choso, momentarily caught off guard, managed a polite nod. “Hi. I’m Choso.”
Musa offered a warm smile, stepping into the room and extending her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Musa, Suguru’s sister.”
Choso shook her hand, his dark eyes flickering with something Suguru didn’t miss. He scowled.
“Musa,” Suguru said sharply, his tone already brimming with irritation. “What are you wearing?”
She rolled her eyes, leaning against the counter. “It’s just a t-shirt, Suguru. Relax. Shoko and I are going to grab dinner and maybe hit a club.”
“That’s not just a t-shirt,” Suguru argued, standing up. “It’s my t-shirt, and it’s practically a dress on you. Plus, you’re showing way too much skin.”
“It’s not your job to police what I wear,” Musa shot back, crossing her arms. “I can take care of myself.”
Choso glanced between the two, clearly trying to remain neutral, though his gaze lingered on Musa longer than it probably should have.
“I’m serious, Musa,” Suguru insisted, his overprotective side kicking in. “You can’t just walk around like that. You’ll attract the wrong kind of attention.”
“I’m not walking around, Suguru. I’m going out with Shoko. She’s literally my best friend.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Suguru muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not leaving the house like that.”
Musa narrowed her eyes. “Oh, really? Last I checked, I’m not a teenager anymore. I don’t need your permission to dress how I want.”
Choso cleared his throat awkwardly, finally speaking up. “Uh, maybe I should—”
“Stay out of this,” Suguru and Musa snapped in unison, glaring at him before turning back to each other.
Choso raised his hands in surrender, leaning back in his chair and quietly sipping his coffee.
“Look,” Musa said, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’m not going to stand here and argue with you all night. I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up.”
“Musa—”
She ignored him, walking toward the door. Before leaving, she glanced back at Choso with a small smile. “It was nice meeting you. Maybe next time, it’ll be under better circumstances.”
With that, she was gone, leaving Suguru simmering with frustration and Choso quietly intrigued.
The silence stretched for a moment before Choso spoke, his voice low and contemplative.
“She seems... nice.”
Suguru shot him a dark look. “Don’t even think about it.”
Choso smirked, taking another sip of his coffee. “Didn’t say I was thinking anything.”
“Good,” Suguru muttered, though his tone lacked conviction.
But even as the conversation moved on, Choso couldn’t get the image of Musa out of his mind—the way her smile had lingered just a little longer than necessary, the soft sway of her hair as she’d walked away.
-----------------------------------
Musa stumbled into the kitchen the next morning, still half-asleep, her oversized hoodie practically swallowing her. The soft scent of coffee wafted through the air, and she followed it like a moth to a flame.
Suguru was already there, dressed in casual sweats, leaning against the counter with a steaming mug in hand. He glanced up as she entered, his expression a mix of hesitation and guilt.
“Good morning,” Musa mumbled, grabbing her own mug and pouring herself some coffee.
“Morning,” Suguru replied, his tone cautious.
The silence between them stretched uncomfortably as Musa sipped her coffee, her back turned to her brother. Finally, Suguru sighed and set his mug down.
“Look,” he began, breaking the quiet, “about last night…”
Musa turned to face him, one brow raised. “What about it?”
“I overreacted,” Suguru admitted, his voice softer than usual. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I just… I worry about you, okay?”
Musa blinked, taken aback by his candidness. “I can take care of myself, Suguru. You know that.”
“I do,” he said quickly, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… you’re my little sister—”
“By three minutes,” Musa interjected with a small smirk.
“Still younger,” he retorted, a hint of his usual humor returning.
Musa softened, the corners of her lips twitching upward. “You know, you can’t keep treating me like a kid forever.”
“I know,” Suguru said with a sigh. “I guess it’s just hard to turn off the whole ‘big brother’ thing. Especially when I see you dressed like that, and… I don’t know. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about you.”
Musa set her mug down and crossed her arms, her expression serious. “Suguru, you don’t need to protect me from the world. I’m not some fragile thing that’s going to break. You taught me to be strong, remember?”
Suguru hesitated, then gave her a faint smile. “Yeah, I remember.”
Musa took a step closer, nudging him lightly with her elbow. “Apology accepted. But next time, just tell me you’re worried instead of going all dictator on me.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough. But I still think you need your own band t-shirts.”
Musa tilted her head. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” Suguru began, grabbing his keys off the counter, “let’s go shopping. My treat. We’ll get you your own band tees so you can stop raiding my closet.”
Musa blinked in surprise. “Wait, you’re serious?”
“Completely,” Suguru replied, his grin widening. “We’ll even grab coffee after. What do you say?”
Musa narrowed her eyes playfully. “Are you trying to bribe me into forgiving you?”
“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug.
She laughed, shaking her head. “Fine. But don’t think this means I’m not borrowing your clothes anymore.”
“I’ll take what I can get,” Suguru muttered, leading the way to the door.
The mall was bustling with activity when they arrived, the usual weekend crowd milling about. Suguru led Musa to a music store tucked away in the corner, the walls lined with band merchandise, vinyl records, and posters.
“Alright,” he said, gesturing to the rows of t-shirts. “Pick whatever you want. Just don’t bankrupt me, okay?”
Musa rolled her eyes. “Relax, Mr. Moneybags. I’m not that high-maintenance.”
She began browsing through the racks, occasionally holding up a shirt to inspect it. Suguru watched her, a small smile playing on his lips.
It wasn’t often they got to spend time like this—just the two of them, without the chaos of friends or classes getting in the way.
“Found anything?” he asked after a while.
Musa held up a black t-shirt with a bold graphic of a band she loved. “What about this one?”
Suguru nodded. “Good choice. Anything else?”
She grabbed another shirt and a hoodie, tossing them over her arm. “You’re the one paying, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, following her to the register.
Once they’d checked out, they made their way to a nearby café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air as they stepped inside.
Settling into a corner booth, Suguru slid her drink across the table. “So, you and Shoko have fun last night?”
Musa sipped her coffee, nodding. “Yeah. We had lots fun actually.”
“I'm glad you had fun sis,” Suguru said with a smile.
They fell into an easy rhythm, talking and laughing like they always did. For a moment, it felt like they were kids again, before life had gotten so complicated.
“You know,” Musa said, leaning back in her chair, “you’re not a terrible brother when you’re not being overprotective.”
“High praise,” Suguru replied dryly, though his grin betrayed his amusement.
---------------------------------
Later in the week, the living room of Suguru’s apartment was dimly lit, illuminated only by the bluish glow of the TV. A half-empty bowl of popcorn sat between Choso and Suguru on the couch, and the low drone of a narrator’s voice filled the room.
“…and thus, the ancient curse was sealed away, hidden in the ruins for centuries…”
Choso leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched the documentary intently. “You know, stuff like this makes me wonder if curses were ever actually real.”
Suguru smirked, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “You’d think with all the weird things that happen in the world, someone would’ve found solid proof by now.”
“Maybe,” Choso replied, his tone thoughtful. “But sometimes, I think the stories themselves are the proof. People don’t just make this stuff up out of nowhere.”
Suguru tilted his head, considering. “I guess you’re right. There’s always some truth to myths, even if it’s buried under a lot of exaggeration.”
The narrator continued, describing the discovery of a cursed artifact found in a remote part of Japan. Choso glanced at Suguru, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Bet if we were alive back then, you’d be the guy who accidentally unleashed a curse trying to prove it wasn’t real.”
Suguru laughed, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. “And you’d be the one who tried to seal it and made it worse.”
“Touché,” Choso admitted, catching the popcorn and eating it.
They fell into a comfortable silence as the documentary shifted to footage of archeologists carefully excavating ancient ruins. Choso found himself relaxing, grateful for the rare quiet evening. Spending time with Suguru like this always felt easy, even when they argued about dumb things like who would survive a hypothetical curse apocalypse.
Just as the narrator began explaining the cultural significance of a talisman, a sudden noise broke the stillness—the sound of the front door opening and closing.
“Yo, Suguru! I’m home!” Musa’s voice echoed down the hallway.
Suguru sighed, pausing the documentary. “And there goes the peace and quiet.”
Choso chuckled, leaning back on the couch. “She’s not that bad.”
“You don’t live with her,” Suguru muttered, though his tone was more affectionate than annoyed.
The sound of footsteps grew louder, and soon Musa appeared in the doorway, her long black hair slightly tousled from the night air. She was dressed casually in joggers and a fitted sweater, but even in her most relaxed state, she had a presence that was hard to ignore.
“Oh,” she said, noticing Choso. “You’re still here.”
Choso gave her a polite nod. “Hey, Musa.”
Suguru gestured toward the TV. “We’re watching a documentary for class. You’re welcome to join, but I warn you—it’s not exactly thrilling.”
Musa tilted her head, intrigued. “What’s it about?”
“Curses, artifacts, ancient myths,” Choso explained. “Pretty standard stuff.”
“Hmm,” she mused, walking into the room and leaning on the back of the couch. “Sounds more interesting than whatever Shoko ditched me for.”
Suguru smirked. “Let me guess—she bailed to catch up on sleep?”
“Bingo,” Musa replied with a laugh.
“Classic Shoko,” both boys said in unison, making Musa roll her eyes.
“Move over,” she said, nudging Suguru’s shoulder. “I want to watch too.”
Suguru groaned but shifted to make room for her. Musa plopped down between them, her presence immediately shifting the dynamic.
As the documentary resumed, Musa asked questions here and there, her curiosity piqued by the subject matter. Choso found himself answering most of them, his deep voice steady and patient.
“So, they think this talisman actually held some kind of power?” she asked, pointing at the screen.
“Some scholars believe it was used in rituals,” Choso explained. “But others think it was just symbolic. Either way, it obviously meant a lot to the people who made it.”
Musa nodded, her baby blue eyes focused intently on the screen. “That’s kind of fascinating. Like, what if there’s some truth to it and we’ve just lost the ability to understand it?”
Choso smiled faintly. “That’s what makes it interesting—trying to figure out what they knew that we don’t.”
Suguru groaned dramatically. “Great. Now there are two of you nerding out over this.”
Musa smirked, elbowing him lightly. “You’re just mad because I’m smarter than you.”
“Smarter? Please,” Suguru retorted, though his grin gave him away.
As the documentary wound down, Musa stretched and yawned, leaning back against the couch. “That wasn’t bad. I might actually learn something if I keep hanging out with you two.”
“Stick around, and you’ll know more about curses than you ever wanted to,” Choso teased, earning a laugh from Musa.
Suguru watched the exchange, his protective instincts flaring as he noticed the easy rapport between his sister and his friend. Clearing his throat, he stood up and grabbed the empty popcorn bowl.
“Alright, enough bonding. It’s late. We should all call it a night.”
Musa glanced at the clock and shrugged. “Fair enough. Thanks for letting me crash your movie night.”
Choso smiled. “Anytime.”
As Musa headed toward her room, Suguru caught Choso’s eye, his expression unreadable. “Don’t get any ideas,” he said, his tone light but firm.
Choso raised his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t say a word.”
“Good,” Suguru muttered, though he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that this was only the beginning.
---------------------------------
As the sun streamed through the large windows of the campus hallways, lighting up the bustling corridors with a golden glow. Musa walked leisurely beside Shoko, their bags slung over their shoulders as they made their way to their next class.
"So," Shoko began, twirling a strand of her short, brown hair between her fingers, "are you ever gonna set me up with your brother? He’s ridiculously hot, Musa. Like, come on—do me a solid."
Musa rolled her eyes, laughing softly. "Gross, Shoko. That's my brother we’re talking about."
Shoko nudged her playfully. "That doesn’t change the fact that he’s a total catch. Tall, broody, smart, and let’s not even get started on the hair. I mean, those genetics? Chef's kiss."
"Okay, ew. Stop," Musa groaned, though a smile tugged at her lips. "Besides, Suguru’s impossible. He’s too busy being friends with Gojo and planning whatever nonsense they’re up to."
Shoko smirked. "Speaking of nonsense, what about you? Got anyone on your radar?"
Musa shook her head, her wavy black hair swaying with the motion. "Nope. No one. I’m focused on school, thank you very much."
"Ugh, you’re no fun," Shoko whined dramatically. "You could at least pretend to be interested in someone. Live a little, Musa."
"Yeah, yeah," Musa teased, pushing the door open to their classroom. "Maybe I’m just waiting for someone to come along and sweep me off my feet."
Shoko snorted. "Right. And maybe Gojo will magically become humble."
Both girls laughed as they found their seats, the conversation shifting to their professors and the upcoming exams.
Meanwhile, on the other side of campus, Gojo, Suguru, and Choso were lounging by the outdoor courtyard. Gojo leaned back against the bench, his signature sunglasses perched on his nose as he spoke animatedly.
"I’m telling you, the next party is going to be epic," Gojo declared. "We’re talking DJ, drinks, and maybe even a karaoke corner if I feel generous."
Suguru raised an eyebrow. "Karaoke? You’re the only one who’d actually enjoy that."
"Details, details," Gojo waved him off. "Oh, and I’ve got my eye on this girl I saw at the library. She’s got this whole mysterious vibe going on, but I still don’t know her name."
Choso, sitting quietly beside them, glanced up from the book he’d been skimming. "You sure she wasn’t just trying to study in peace?"
Gojo grinned. "Maybe. But a Gojo never misses a chance to impress."
Suguru shook his head, amused. "You’re impossible."
"Thank you, I try." Gojo stretched lazily. "Anyway, are we hanging out after class? Maybe grab some food?"
Choso closed his book and shook his head. "Can’t. I’ve got a paper to finish."
"Ugh, nerd," Gojo teased, earning a small glare from Choso.
"Alright, your loss," Suguru said, standing and brushing off his jeans. "We’ll catch you later. Don’t overdo it, man."
Choso nodded, watching as the two walked off, their conversation turning to the logistics of Gojo’s upcoming party.
As the final bell of the day rang, Musa packed up her things and walked out into the hallway, her long black hair cascading over her shoulder. She spotted her brother and Gojo waiting near the lockers.
"There’s our favorite girl," Gojo announced, throwing an arm around her shoulder. "Ready to go home?"
Musa rolled her eyes but didn’t shake him off. "You guys are such a hassle."
Suguru smirked. "And yet you’d be lost without us. Let’s go."
The three of them made their way toward the parking lot, Gojo launching into an elaborate story about his day while Suguru occasionally chimed in with sarcastic remarks. Musa laughed, enjoying the familiar rhythm of their group
The evening had settled comfortably over the apartment. Suguru and Gojo had taken over the couch, a pile of snacks and drinks spread out on the coffee table between them. Musa sat cross-legged on the armchair nearby, scrolling on her phone but still listening to their conversation.
“Okay, hear me out,” Gojo said, gesturing animatedly with a half-eaten bag of chips. “This girl in my class? Absolute knockout. But the second she opens her mouth—nothing but astrology nonsense. She asked me if I was a Leo rising before even saying her name.”
Suguru snorted, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Sounds like your type.”
“Hey! I have standards,” Gojo retorted, though his grin gave him away.
“Do you?” Musa chimed in, raising an eyebrow as she looked up from her phone.
Gojo gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Musa, my dear, I thought you were on my side!”
Musa smirked. “I am—on the side of truth.”
Suguru laughed, leaning back against the couch. “She’s got you there, Satoru.”
Gojo pouted, but it lasted all of three seconds before he turned his attention to Musa. “Alright, little Suguru. Since you’re so quick to call me out, let’s hear about your love life.”
Musa blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“You heard me,” Gojo said, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ve got to have someone in mind. A crush? A secret boyfriend? Come on, spill.”
Suguru immediately bristled, sitting up straighter. “Back off, Gojo. That’s none of your business.”
“Oh, relax,” Gojo said, waving him off. “She’s a grown woman. She can handle a little teasing.”
Musa rolled her eyes, trying to play it cool. “I don’t have time for stuff like that. Classes, Shoko, dealing with you two—that’s enough to keep me busy.”
Gojo wasn’t convinced. “Uh-huh. Sure. But if you did have someone in mind, who would it be? Someone tall? Handsome? Maybe a little mysterious?”
Musa felt her cheeks warm under his scrutiny. “Why are you so invested in my nonexistent love life?"
“Because it’s fun,” Gojo replied with a grin.
Suguru groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can we talk about literally anything else?”
“No way,” Gojo said, pointing a finger at Musa. “She’s dodging the question, and I’m not letting it go.”
Musa huffed, crossing her arms. “Fine. If you must know, I don’t have anyone in mind. Happy now?”
Gojo squinted at her, clearly unconvinced. “Liar. But I’ll let it slide—for now.”
Suguru threw a pillow at him. “Stop harassing my sister.”
Gojo caught the pillow with ease, tossing it back with a laugh. “You’re so overprotective. It’s cute, really.”
Musa shook her head, standing up and stretching. “I’m grabbing a drink. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”
As she walked to the kitchen, she could still hear their banter.
“You really need to chill, Suguru,” Gojo said. “What are you gonna do when she actually starts dating someone?”
“She’s not dating anyone,nor is she going to" Suguru replied firmly.
Gojo laughed. “You keep telling yourself that.”
Musa smiled to herself as she poured a glass of water. Living with Suguru had its challenges, but moments like this reminded her of how much she loved their chaotic little family.
She padded into the kitchen, her socks soft against the wooden floors. She grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water, letting out a contented sigh as she leaned against the counter. The day had been long, her brain fried from back-to-back lectures.
As she made her way back to the living room, the sound of a muffled grunt caught her attention. She peeked around the corner, raising an eyebrow at the sight before her. Gojo had Suguru in a headlock, the two of them wrestling like overgrown children on the floor.
"Tap out, Suguru! You’re done for!" Gojo crowed, his sunglasses askew and his grin obnoxiously wide.
"Get off me, idiot," Suguru growled, trying to twist free.
"Seriously? I left for 5 minutes" Musa muttered, leaning against the doorway with her glass in hand. "You two are ridiculous."
Both heads snapped up at her voice. Suguru immediately pushed Gojo off and sat up, brushing imaginary dust from his shirt to preserve whatever dignity he had left.
"Musa!" Gojo beamed, adjusting his sunglasses. "Perfect timing. We were just talking about you."
"Should I be worried?" she asked, taking a sip of her water.
"Not at all! Actually, I’ve got exciting news," Gojo said, springing to his feet and throwing an arm over her shoulder. "There’s a party tomorrow night—one I’m personally hosting—and you have to come."
Musa blinked, surprised. "A party? I don’t know…"
"Absolutely not," Suguru cut in, standing up and brushing his long hair back into place. His tone was firm. "She’s not going to your party, Gojo."
Gojo pouted. "Oh, come on, Suguru. It’ll be fun. What’s the harm?"
"The harm is you throwing a party with half the campus there," Suguru said, crossing his arms. "Yeah, Musa goes out with Shoko sometimes, but your parties are another level of chaos. I don’t want random guys from school hitting on her."
"First of all," Gojo said, holding up a finger, "she’s Suguru Geto’s sister. No one’s going to mess with her. Second, I’ll be there to keep an eye out. Third, Shoko’s coming, so she’ll have backup. And fourth, Musa’s not a kid. She can handle herself."
Suguru shot him a look. "She’s my sister, Gojo."
"And technically my little sister by association," Gojo said with a smug grin. "So I’d never let anything happen to her. Right, Musa?"
Musa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Can you two stop arguing about me like I’m not standing here?"
Suguru frowned. "You’re not seriously considering this, are you? Gojo’s parties are a nightmare."
Gojo clutched his chest in mock offense. "I prefer the term ‘legendary.’"
Musa tilted her head, considering. "I don’t know… It does sound fun. Classes have been exhausting lately, and a little break wouldn’t hurt."
Suguru looked at her, concern etched into his features. "Musa…"
She smiled softly. "Relax, Suguru. I’ll think about it. If I go, it’s not like I’ll be alone. Shoko’s always got my back, and I trust you two to keep things under control."
Gojo clapped his hands together. "That’s the spirit! I’ll save you a spot near the karaoke machine."
"Don’t push it," Musa warned, though she couldn’t help but laugh.
Suguru let out a resigned sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But if you go, I’m watching you like a hawk."
"Gee, thanks, Dad," Musa teased.
Gojo burst out laughing. "Oh, this is going to be great."
Suguru glared at him, but Musa could only shake her head. This is going to be one he'll of a party.
Being Sukuna’s best friend was both a blessing and a curse.
On one hand, you got to see sides of him that others didn’t. You knew the Sukuna who showed up at your apartment at midnight with greasy takeout after a bad day. The Sukuna who secretly loved watching trashy reality TV and would yell at the screen like his life depended on it. The Sukuna who texted you pictures of stray cats he found on campus, captioned with things like, "This one has your attitude."
But then there was the other side of it. The Sukuna everyone else saw. The cocky, arrogant, and ridiculously hot version of him that had people throwing themselves at his feet. You weren’t blind—you knew how good he looked. And as much as you hated to admit it, there were times when you couldn’t stop yourself from staring a little too long at his tattoos or wondering what it would feel like to have his hands on you instead of casually bumping shoulders on your way to class.
Still, he was your best friend, and you weren’t about to risk ruining that.
At least, that was the plan. Until everything changed one night.
It started like any other evening. Sukuna had invited himself over to your apartment under the guise of “helping” you study, though his version of helping involved sprawled out on your couch, flipping through his phone while you tried to focus on your notes.
“You’re useless,” you muttered, glaring at him from your desk.
“Hey, I’m moral support,” Sukuna said with a grin, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. “Besides, you’re smart. You don’t need my help.”
“You’re just lazy.”
“And you’re too uptight,” he shot back, sitting up and stretching in a way that made his shirt ride up, exposing a sliver of toned stomach and the edge of his hip tattoo.
You quickly looked away, heat rising to your cheeks. “Whatever. Some of us actually care about passing.”
Sukuna chuckled, standing and wandering over to your desk. He leaned over your shoulder, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck.
“You’re stressing too much,” he murmured, his voice low. “Relax.”
“I can’t relax with you hovering,” you said, your voice sharper than intended.
But Sukuna didn’t move. Instead, he reached out, plucking the pen from your hand and tossing it onto the desk. His hand brushed against yours, and the simple touch sent a shiver down your spine.
“What’s your deal tonight?” you asked, turning to glare at him.
Sukuna’s smirk faltered, replaced by something more serious. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the air between you felt impossibly heavy.
“You’ve been acting weird lately,” he said, his tone softer now. “Avoiding me.”
“I’m not avoiding you,” you lied, crossing your arms.
Sukuna’s gaze darkened, and he leaned in closer, his hands braced on either side of your chair. “Don’t bullshit me. What’s going on?”
Your heart raced as you tried to think of an excuse, but the intensity of his gaze left you speechless. Sukuna tilted his head, his smirk returning as if he’d figured something out.
“Wait a minute,” he said, his voice dropping. “Is this about me?”
Your stomach flipped. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been weird ever since that party last week,” Sukuna said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “When I caught you staring at me.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Don’t lie,” he interrupted, his voice low and teasing. “You think I didn’t notice? The way you looked at me? Like you wanted me to—”
“Shut up,” you snapped, standing abruptly and trying to push past him.
But Sukuna caught your wrist, pulling you back. His smirk was gone now, replaced by something more serious, more dangerous.
“Don’t run away,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Tell me the truth. Do you want me?”
The question hung in the air, and you felt your resolve crumbling under his intense gaze. Your breath hitched as he stepped closer, his hand still holding your wrist.
“Sukuna, I…”
Before you could finish, he cupped your face with his free hand, his thumb brushing against your cheek. His crimson eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought he might back off. But then his lips crashed into yours, stealing the words from your mouth.
The kiss was everything you’d imagined—hot, intense, and overwhelming in the best way. His hands were everywhere, pulling you closer, tangling in your hair, gripping your waist like he couldn’t get enough of you.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.
“Fuck,” Sukuna muttered, his voice thick with desire. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “You have?”
He smirked, his fingers brushing against your lips. “You’re my best friend, but I’m not blind. You’re fucking gorgeous, and you drive me crazy without even trying.”
“Sukuna…”
“Let me show you,” he said, his voice dropping. “Let me show you how much I want you.”
You nodded, too caught up in the moment to think about anything else.
🩷🩷🩷
Before you could react, Sukuna’s hands were on you, strong and commanding as he gripped your thighs and lifted you effortlessly onto your desk. His lips crashed against yours, stealing your breath with the sheer intensity of his kiss. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, his tongue delving into your mouth in a way that left you dizzy.
“Fuck, you taste good,” Sukuna muttered against your lips, his hands already tugging at your shirt. He pulled it over your head, his lips trailing down your neck as his fingers worked to undo your bra.
Your breath hitched as he cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples. He didn’t linger, though; Sukuna was a man on a mission, and it seemed like his sole purpose was to ruin you.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he growled, his hands sliding down to tug at your pants. He yanked them off with an urgency that sent a thrill racing through you, leaving you bare and exposed before him.
Sukuna dropped to his knees, his massive hands gripping your thighs and spreading you wide. His crimson eyes darkened as he took you in, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“Fuck, look at you,” he said, his voice rough with hunger. “So wet for me already.”
You barely had time to process his words before his mouth was on you. Sukuna devoured you like a man starved, his tongue plunging into your heat with an intensity that left you breathless. He alternated between long, slow licks and quick, precise flicks that had your hips bucking against his face.
“Stay still, princess” Sukuna growled, his hands gripping your thighs harder to hold you in place. “I’m not done with you yet.”
The sheer dominance in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his assault. He sucked on your clit, the sensation so overwhelming that your head fell back, a loud moan escaping your lips.
“Fuck, Sukuna,” you gasped, your legs trembling as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
“That’s it,” Sukuna murmured against your skin, his voice muffled. “Let me hear you.”
He slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right as his tongue worked your clit. The combination was devastating, and it wasn’t long before you were crying out his name, your body arching off the desk as waves of pleasure crashed over you.
But Sukuna didn’t stop. He kept going, his tongue and fingers relentless as he pushed you through your orgasm and into another. By the time he finally pulled back, you were trembling, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath.
Sukuna wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking up at you like he was the devil himself. “You taste so fucking good,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.
You barely had time to recover before Sukuna was standing, his hands gripping your hips as he turned you around. He bent you over the desk, his large hands spreading your legs and pressing firmly into the small of your back to deepen your arch.
“Look at you,” Sukuna growled, his voice dripping with possessiveness. “Bent over for me like a good little slut.”
A gasp escaped your lips as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back just enough for you to hear his next words clearly.
“I’m going to ruin you,” he promised, his voice low and dangerous.
You didn’t have time to respond before Sukuna slid into you, the stretch making your eyes roll back. He gave you no time to adjust, his pace brutal from the start. His hips slammed against yours, the sound of skin on skin filling the room as he fucked you like a man possessed.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Sukuna groaned, his free hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises. “You feel so fucking good.”
The combination of his rough thrusts, the hand in your hair, and the way he kept pressing into the curve of your back had you seeing stars. Your moans filled the room, each one spurring him on as he drove you closer to the edge.
“You’re mine,” Sukuna growled, his grip on your hair tightening as he pulled you back against him. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own pleasure.
“Louder,” Sukuna demanded, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear.
“I’m yours!” you cried, your body trembling as another orgasm ripped through you.
Sukuna groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his body shuddering as he came.
For a moment, the two of you stayed like that, your bodies pressed together as you caught your breath. Then Sukuna straightened, his hand sliding up your back as he pulled you upright.
“You’re a fucking dream,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
You turned to look at him, your legs still trembling as he smirked down at you. “And you’re insufferable,” you said, though your tone lacked any real bite.
Sukuna chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “Yeah, but you love it.”
And as much as you hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong.
❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]
❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞
❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. smut. reader has a vagina. slow burn. anxiety. tags will be updated as series continues.
❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.
❦ words ; 12.2k.
main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter - coming soon
If there’s one thing you can say about your friendship with Sukuna, it’s that he’s a lot funnier than all the rumors surrounding him give him credit for.
That, and that you’ve gotten a lot better at checking your email.
Pulling into the parking lot nearest to the campus library, you put the car in park and turn to the passenger’s seat to grab your bag. When you turn back, a startlingly tall figure is trudging through the snow towards you, salmon hair poking out from his hood standing as a dead giveaway as to who it is.
Rolling down your window, you call out to him. “Sukuna?”
He jogs towards you at the sound of your voice, resting his forearms on the edge of your car where the window is lowered. A paper cup adorned in a local coffee shop logo in each of his hands grabs your attention as he dips his head into your car and, more importantly, right into your personal space. Your heart races at the close proximity, keeping your attention on the cups in his hands in an effort to keep your thoughts in order.
“Shit, it’s cold,” he grumbles. “I swear it was just fall.”
Don’t say it, don't say it, don't say it- “You could always light yourself on fire again.”
Sukuna’s face deadpans. “Play your games, brat. I’m more than happy to have your drink,” he sneers, ducking his head back out of his window and into the cold as he attempts to turn away.
“Wait wait wait!” You giggle, reaching out to tug him back into the window as you pull on his coat sleeve. He scowls at you, letting you pull him back into the heat of your car despite his grumpy demeanor.
“D’you want your drink or not?” He grumbles, holding one of the cups out a bit further.
Curiously, you take it from him, smiling as it warms your hands. Bringing the cup up to your lips, you cautiously take a sip, your tongue swiping your lips when you pull it back to look at it with a crease between your brow.
“How’d you know my exact order?” You ask, wracking your brain for if you had told him at some point.
“I’m just that good,” he smirks, taking a sip of his own drink that smells like the most caffeinated black coffee you’ve ever bore witness to.
You narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, but you’re not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, and Sukuna clearly isn’t about to let you in on his secret. With a soft sigh, you resign yourself to not knowing.
“Thanks, Kuna.”
He grunts in reply, taking another sip of his overpoweringly aromatic coffee.
“Are you gonna come study?” You query as you set your drink down in a cup holder to zip up your coat and pull your backpack up over your shoulder. Sukuna backs away from the door as you get out of your car and grab your drink.
“Nah, gotta turn in a paper.”
“See you at lunch, then?” You tilt your head to get a better view of Sukuna towering over you.
He grimaces, a muscle in his jaw tensing. “Suppose so.”
“Don’t sound so excited,” you tease.
“Can’t say I’m lookin’ forward to getting torn apart by your friends.” He takes a sip of his coffee, tucking his other hand into his pocket to fiddle with his lighter, though he’s careful not to start a fire this time.
“I’ll talk to them. It won’t be that bad,” you promise, giving him your best reassuring smile.
Sukuna pauses to examine your expression, his gaze flickering between your eyes and down to your smile. He knows you well enough to spot the crack in your facade, the barely-there flash of doubt in your eyes that tells him that your friends won’t forgive him so easily, but he owes you regardless, so he doesn’t have much of a choice at the end of the day but to trust you.
And trust you, he does. He’s not sure what it is about your calming presence and sunny demeanor, but you seem to pull the best from him and even in the turmoil that his life has become, he finds himself seeking that familiar warmth.
It’s for that reason that he’ll bear whatever it is that your friends deem a necessary punishment for him, even if it irks him.
He hums in reply, glancing down at his watch as he sets the thought aside. “Gotta go. Later,” he says abruptly as he turns to leave in usual Sukuna fashion.
“See you later, thanks for the drink!”
He casts a glance over his shoulder at you with a smirk before throwing his hood up over his head and trudging off into the snow. You follow suit, pulling your hood up with a shiver as the wind whips around you, reminding you just what season it is. Tucking your hands into your pockets, you jog towards the library and barge through the doors with as much poise as you can muster given the cold you’ve just run from.
Shoko’s head lifts from her book as you approach the table where she and Kento are hunched over their textbooks while Haibara is typing away on his laptop. With a huff, you take a seat across from Shoko and beside Kento.
“I can’t believe it got this cold and snowy so quickly,” you whisper, shivering as you toss your coat over the back of the chair.
“Welcome to winter,” Shoko sighs, fiddling with a coffee cup that matches your own.
“Oh!” Haibara looks up from his laptop with a pleased expression. “Good, you did get your drink!”
With a tilt of your head, you hold the paper cup out in front of you, glancing around the table as you realize all three of them have matching cups to yours.
“Yeah, um, Sukuna brought it for me,” you smile, bringing the cup towards your chest as if the thought makes you starstruck. Maybe it does, just a bit.
“I ran into him at the cafe. He actually came up and said hi, would you believe that? I mean, he just wanted your order, but I thought it was pretty nice for him.” Haibara beams, leaning back in his chair with a bright smile that you share. Kento and Shoko exchange a less enthusiastic glance, privy to information Haibara doesn’t have on your former project partner.
“That explains how he got my order right,” you giggle to yourself, pleased when Haibara laughs along with you. Maybe it’ll be good to have him at your side for lunch today to break the tension between Sukuna and your friends. “Oh yeah, he’s gonna join us for lunch.”
With Haibara sitting at the table, Kento and Shoko keep their mouths shut, but their displeasure doesn’t need to be voiced based on the frowns you receive.
“Can we talk, actually?” Shoko speaks up, pushing herself up from the table.
Your heart drops, but you nod, gingerly following as she leads you into the hall outside the library. It’s dead quiet, even more so than the library itself which was filled with the sounds of paper turning and pens scratching. Now, the silence seems to close in on you as your closest friend turns to you with an exasperated sigh.
“Listen girl, you know I love you.”
“That’s just about the worst start to this I could have hoped for,” you joke with a nervous laugh in hopes of lightening the mood.
Shoko smiles. “I promise it’s not that bad. I’m just worried and I won’t sit by with Kento and watch while Sukuna breaks your heart. Once is a mistake, but twice?”
The guilty look on your face causes her to sigh again, but before you can give her a better explanation, she continues.
“You’re too forgiving for your own good sometimes and I know you didn’t want to mention the kids to Kento, but can you at least tell me what his excuse was? I just want to make sure he isn’t taking advantage of you.”
You chew on your lip, knowing your explanation won’t help Sukuna’s case. “Well, he hasn’t exactly told me, but-”
“He hasn’t told you?” She parrots with a raised brow, rubbing her temple.
“Wait, wait, just listen!” You plead, grabbing her shoulders. “He told me there was an emergency with the kids and he doesn’t want me involved in it. I told him this is his last chance and he’s trying, Sho.”
She grimaces, the gears turning in her mind as she weighs her opinions on him based only on what you’ve told her. “You better have meant it when you told him this is his last chance,” she crosses her arms over her chest. “I know he’s got a lot on his plate but that doesn’t give him any excuse to treat you like you’re disposable.”
“I won’t let him,” you promise. “And he won’t,” you assure her. He hasn’t gained the entirety of your trust back, but you can see that he’s putting in a notable effort to earn it and you want so badly to believe that the Sukuna you’re getting to know will stick around.
In all honesty, you think the begrudgingly kind and thoughtful version of him you’re getting to know is the real Sukuna, beneath the layers of grumpiness and stress and anger that go hand-in-hand with that warmth that he seldom shows around others. Hardened by a life that’s been nothing but tough on him, you’re privy to another side of him. One that has a good time teasing and making jokes, who enjoys music, movies, and video games and has a love for art. Sure, he’s still got an attitude and a penchant for being easily annoyed (and annoying), but behind all those walls is a person that anyone would be happy to spend time with.
He just needs a little bit of help and some rest to show that side of himself, help that he has a hard time accepting over his pride.
With a deep sigh, Shoko resigns to your beseeching. “You really like him, huh?”
Your cheeks warm, unable to hide the smile that finds its way to your lips, although you don’t respond. She has her answer in the form of your giddy smile as you shuffle from one foot to the other.
“I’ve never seen you like this before. The heart wants what it wants, I guess.”
“So you’ll give him a chance at lunch today?” You plead, squeezing her shoulders lightly.
She takes a moment to consider your words before dramatically rolling her eyes as she pulls you in for a hug. “One wrong move and I’m whooping his ass.”
“I won’t stop you, promise.”
She pulls back and begins heading back to the library. “He’s been helping you with History, right? Can we go over that? I’m so behind,” she whispers as she crosses into the library. The sound of pages turning and pencils scribbling is a relief in comparison to the silence of the empty reading week halls.
“Sounds good!”
–
With a shiver, you brush the snow from your jacket as you make your way into the lunch hall, unzipping it as you’re met with warm air. There’s a few more students around than there has been the last few days, likely the result of the power going out in some of the dorms from the whispers you’d been hearing.
Making your way to your usual table, you pull out some leftovers from a couple of nights ago and make your way to the microwave.
When you return to your seat, the table has gained an air of awkwardness that you suppose you were expecting, and Sukuna is seated to the right of your chair. Haibara seems to be doing what he can to mediate the table and Shoko’s half-hearted replies are better than nothing, at the very least. Kento seems less than pleased, but he’s entertaining Haibara if nothing else.
“Hey!” You beam at Sukuna. His gaze flickers up to you and he nods in reply. The rest of the table seems to relax at your arrival, but the tension remains palpable. Tough crowd.
Taking a seat beside Sukuna, you turn to him as Shoko and Haibara talk about something they watched the night before, entertaining Kento with the drama of it all. “How did turning in your paper go?” You ask the tattooed man who’s leaning against his knuckles, propped up by his elbow on the table.
He yawns before he replies. “Fine. Should get a good grade,” he shrugs nonchalantly.
“I’m glad,” you smile, taking a bite of your lunch. “Did you bring anything to eat?”
“Yeah, leftovers from last night.” With a grunt, he leans down to his bag as though it took a nominal amount of effort, pulling a container from his bag. Setting the container down, he sighs heavily.
With a sympathetic smile, you lower your voice. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” he mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face as he glances around the table to make sure no one’s listening. “Cho’s been having nightmares and it’s catchin’ up with me.”
“Aww,” you pout. “Poor kid.”
“He’ll be alright,” Sukuna assures you, or at least you think he’s assuring you. “They both will.”
You purse your lips, examining the distance in his sunken eyes. You may be sitting beside him, but there’s a strange feeling that you’re watching him from outside, as though there’s a barrier of glass between you. Before you can question him any further, he changes the subject.
“How’s studying for History goin’?” He casts a glance at Shoko, just long enough to catch her eye and invite her into the conversation. It’s small, but it is a noticeable effort from Sukuna to include her.
“We were just going through it, actually. I feel way better about that final already,” you smile, eyes bright as you exchange a glance with Shoko.
Her cautious gaze softens and she nods in agreement. “Yeah. Thanks for the help.”
“Mm.” Sukuna hums, turning towards you with a smirk. “So if I ask about the Berlin Blockade-”
“Oh no,” you groan.
“- you can tell me how many air corridors the Soviets granted for cargo and trades and where they were granted to?”
Sukuna’s pretty sure he sees your eyes glaze over in dread and confusion from just one question, as though your confidence has fizzled out. He chuckles, amused.
“One question at a time. D’ya remember how many air corridors there were?”
You sigh. “This isn’t what I was hoping for when I invited you for lunch,” you grumble as you pull your history textbook out. “Three. There were three.”
“Good. Where were they granted to?”
“Um…” you take a deep breath, wracking your brain for information. “Frankfurt.”
“Mhm.”
“Hamburg.”
“Good.”
You chew on your lip, peering over at him with a blank stare that tells him you haven’t the faintest clue.
“Open your textbook,” he instructs.
You flip to the chapter about the Cold War, searching for information about the Berlin Blockade. Your eyes scan the pages and eventually come across all three locations. “Bückeberg.”
“Good. Who was the foreign minister at the time?”
The look you shoot Sukuna is too cute. You look completely and utterly lost, immediately searching your textbook. “Vyacheslav Molotov,” you reply after a moment, pointing at a black and gray photo of a man.
“Yes,” Sukuna agrees, reaching for your hand. His fingers are rough and calloused when he wraps them around yours, moving your hand an inch to the left to a different photo. “But you pointed at Stalin.”
“O- oh.” You tear your gaze from his much larger hand wrapped around yours to the two photos, using every shred of willpower you can muster to commit the photos to memory. Whether it’s because you’re burnt out on studying, or because the size of Sukuna’s hand is sending your mind reeling to places you’re not willing to admit aloud, your heart is pounding and you can only pray Sukuna’s fingers aren’t low enough on your wrist to feel your pulse. “My bad,” you barely manage to whisper.
Sukuna pulls his hand back, laying it next to yours on the table. “You were close,” he shrugs, not thinking much of it.
With a sharp intake of breath to clear your head, you pull your notebook aside and write down the answers you missed. “I should know this by now,” you mutter more to yourself than anyone else. Barely audibly, you tack on, “we’ve studied so much.”
Sukuna arches a brow, thoughtfully looking down at you. “It’s not a big deal. You actually know the history itself well, you’re just bad with names, dates, and faces.”
With pursed lips, you give him your attention, considering his words for a moment.
“What’s the reason for the Berlin Blockade?” He quizzes.
“To weaken Germany,” you reply without a moment’s thought.
He smirks, nudging your shoulder and keeping in close proximity with you. “See, you’re fine. That’s why I’ve been quizzin’ you on the more important shit.”
“I guess you’re right. Won’t there be a lot of names on the test though?”
“Nah. It’s like a seventy-thirty split,” he shrugs.
“Thirty’s a lot,” you mumble, your face falling at the thought of getting a seventy, and that’s only if you get a perfect score across every other question.
“Seventy is a lot,” he corrects, a playful smirk slathered across his lips. “Or are you a princess about your grades?” He teases as his lips turn up into a grin.
You force a smile, entertaining his teasing. “I know you’re right, but-” you pause, looking up into those striking crimson irises. He’s so close to you and regards you with so much mirth that your breath unintentionally hitches in your throat. “- um,” you continue shakily, “I could lose my scholarship if my grades aren’t good enough.”
Sukuna’s eyes briefly widen. “You’re on a scholarship?”
“Yeah, I need higher than a seventy on this final.”
He lets out a long breath through his nose. “Alright then, princess. We’ll aim higher.”
Did your mouth just go dry from one word? God are you really in that deep?
“Thanks, Kuna.” You nudge him back, earning you another entirely too handsome grin.
“Mm.” His grin falters at the nickname, but he forces down his disdain for it.
You’re so caught up in your conversation with Sukuna, that you don’t see Haibara kick Kento and Shoko from under the table and direct their attention to your interactions with Sukuna. Even stoic Kento who was beyond pissed with Sukuna can’t deny that the sight could weaken even the hardest resolve against the man.
–
“I don’t WANNA!”
You lower your fist from Sukuna’s door the following night, pausing at the chaos from within his apartment. The anger and frustration just beyond the door is practically bursting out into the hall and you’re sure the moment it opens, it’ll metaphorically slap you in the face. Taking in a sharp breath, you raise your hand again.
“I won’t ask again,” comes Sukuna’s raised voice, straining to keep his anger down.
… And now you can hear sobbing.
You softly tap your knuckles against the door, half expecting to need to wait for someone to let you in but Sukuna swings the door open immediately. It slams shut behind you once you’ve cleared the entryway and the scene inside is equally as ugly as it sounds.
Choso is nowhere to be seen, Yuji is in tears and Sukuna is about to blow a gasket.
Oh boy.
“What’s- um-” You pause, debating whether you should even ask. “- Going on?” You question mousily.
“Go on brat, what’s going on?” Sukuna hisses, his chest rising and falling as fury courses through his veins.
Yuji’s too busy sobbing to reply, shaking his head adamantly as he wipes at his face, snot running down his chin.
“Fucking christ,” Sukuna mutters, exasperated. He runs a hand through his pink hair, turning on his heel away from the scene in an effort to keep calm. Whatever patience he’d had for this had run dry during their walk home from school and with the mess his life had become, he was already worn extremely thin.
As Yuji continues to bawl and Sukuna leans over the kitchen counter gathering himself, you decide to step in.
You make your way across the living room to Yuji, kneeling down in front of him. “Hey, sweetheart.” Your voice is gentle and you offer a sympathetic smile. “Everything’s alright, don’t cry,” you soothe as you reach out and gently rub the sides of his arms. “Do you want a hug?”
Yuji nods adamantly, hiccuping through the tears as he reaches out for you. You pull him in for a tight hug, rubbing his back reassuringly. Sure to keep your voice soft and gentle, you give him a moment before speaking up.
“What happened, Yu?”
“K-Kuna’s-” sniffle. “- he’s m-making me get a-” Yuji’s voice breaks as the tears set in again. “A-” hiccup. “- needleeeeee.” He sobs into your shoulder, burying his face into your neck. You let out a breath at the realization that it’s just an argument that’s been blown completely out of proportion. Life was so much easier when the hardest thing you had to endure was vaccinations.
“I’m sorry honey,” you coo, continuing to rub his back. You let him sob into your shoulder before pulling back to look at him. At the sight of your face, so gentle and calm, he starts to sniffle more and less tears flow down his cheeks. “There you go,” you smile, noticing now that there’s a very crumpled piece of paper in his hand.
Yuji wipes his face on his arm, his breath coming in short gasps as he slowly calms down.
“Can I see that?” You ask, holding your hand out.
“No,” he whines, holding it behind his back.
“Alright,” you smile again, deciding it’s best to reason with him.
You cast a glance back to Sukuna. His palms are splayed on the counter as he leans his weight over the surface, staring down at it. All of his muscles are tense as his back rises and falls steadily with each breath he uses to calm his own anger. They really are two sides of the same coin.
“Is your school doing vaccinations?”
Yuji nods.
“Is that your permission form?”
He shakes his head.
“Are you lying?”
He hesitates before nodding. You have to stifle a laugh at his completely shameless lie, your smile lopsided.
“Can we talk it through?” You ask, sitting cross-legged before Yuji.
He blinks a few times as he considers your question before plopping himself down on the floor in front of you. He glances down at the way you’re seated, following suit and setting his permission form juuust out of reach. Sneaky kid.
“Are you scared of needles?”
Yuji’s silent, thinking for a moment before he decidedly nods.
“Okay, that’s normal. Are you afraid it’ll hurt?” You query, tilting your head at him.
“It will,” he replies with an edge of certainty, sniffling.
“Maybe for a moment, but do you know what the needle’s for?”
“Um-” he wipes under his eyes, his face scrunching up in deep thought. “- no.”
“It’s so that you don’t get sick. Do you remember being sick the other week, sweetheart?”
“... yeah.” He continues to sniffle and wipe at his face, looking up at you between each movement as he waits for you to continue.
“Well, there’s sicknesses that are a lot worse than that, and your brother doesn’t want you to get them,” you explain, glancing back at the sound of Sukuna shuffling. He pushes himself up from the counter, listening as intently as Yuji is as he makes his way a short distance behind you. His disgruntled expression trains on the sight of you sitting alongside his little brother, but he’s silent. “Don’t you think it’s worth it to get poked for a moment and not get one of those sicknesses?”
Yuji’s gaze flickers between you and his older brother towering over both of you as he thinks about it. You give him all the time he needs, even as Sukuna’s foot begins tapping impatiently. He’s an adult, he can wait. “I guess,” Yuji finally agrees, averting his gaze.
“Do you think you can be brave for me and get a needle, then?” You ask, your gentle smile remaining in place the whole time.
It takes a moment, but Yuji nods.
“Can I have that paper, Yu?”
He gingerly reaches behind him and passes you the crumpled paper. Tilting your head up to Sukuna, you pass it up to him. He walks over to the table, signs it, and returns it to Yuji.
“You better give this to your teacher,” he growls as he hands it back to Yuji. The little boy frowns, staring down at the ground in shame as he sniffles. Tears threaten his eyes again and you sigh.
“Sukuna, please,” your tone is soft with him as well, pleading for understanding between the two.
A muscle in his jaw tightens as his frustrated gaze zeros in on you, but he second-guesses whatever snappy words are about to spill from his lips, choosing instead to keep his mouth shut. His lips press into a thin line, furiously glaring at you and Yuji.
“Can you promise your brother, sweetheart?”
He’s still quietly sniffling as he nods, unable to look either of you in the eye. You let out a soft sigh, rubbing at the crease between your brows. At least they’d come to some kind of peace, even if Sukuna is audibly huffing behind you while Yuji sniffles.
Pushing yourself to your feet, you offer a hand to Yuji, who takes it and lets you drag (yes, drag) him back up to his feet, quietly fiddling with the hem of his Sonic the Hedgehog shirt.
With a glance at Sukuna, clad in a plain white V-neck and sweatpants, you catch a glimpse of his tattoos and an idea pops into your mind. “You know, Yuji, your brother is super brave.”
The little boy’s head tilts in a silent question, just as Sukuna is looking at you with arms crossed over his chest. You take a step towards the older of the two brothers, avoiding his gaze to conceal your racing heart. Gingerly, you reach for his wrist and tug lightly on it. His lip twitches in a frown as he stays soundly in place, relenting finally when you tilt your head.
Fuck, it’s cute when you do that.
He lets you pull his wrist down towards Yuji, his expression unchanging as you point out his tattoos. “Your brother got thousands of needles for his tattoos, did you know that?” Your thumb rubs circles into Sukuna’s skin and he wonders if you know you’re doing it at all, his full attention trained on the action. Whether consciously or not, you seem to be trying to soothe him, and the fact that it’s working only further complicates the feelings bubbling in Sukuna’s chest.
Yuji peers up nervously with reddened eyes and puffy cheeks at his older brother. “Really?” He rasps quietly, his voice strained from crying.
“That’s right,” you grin. “Can you be brave like your brother?”
Yuji reaches out and presses a finger to Sukuna’s wrist, as if feeling for raised skin, only to find it’s smooth. “Like Kuna,” he nods in agreement, showing you the saddest smile you’ve ever seen through his tear-stained face.
“Like Kuna,” you agree, rustling the little boy’s salmon hair. He smiles more happily now, running off with his permission slip to slide it into his backpack.
Sukuna lets out a long breath as you drop his wrist. “Fuck,” he mutters.
“Need to cry it out in my arms, too?” You tease with a grin.
“Don’t push your luck, woman.” Even as he rolls his eyes at you, you catch the short exhale of breath from his nose reminiscent of a laugh.
“The offer stands,” you shrug cheekily, heading over to the table to set your bag down. You pull your history textbook out, alongside your notebook and some cue cards you prepared after submitting your paper last night. You skimmed through your textbook to put together cue cards with names, dates, and locations and their relations to historic events after Sukuna had pointed out that you seem to have the rest of the subject down.
Setting everything across the table, you peer over your shoulder at Sukuna’s distant gaze. You’ve seen this expression on him before, a forlorn glaze over his eyes as though he’s not present, completely lost in thought.
“Are you okay?”
Sukuna blinks twice, coming back to the present. A knot forms between his brows, as though he’s offended you might suggest he isn’t. “‘M fine.”
He’s lying, but you have no right to the truth, so you accept it with a nod.
No longer distracted, he runs a hand through his spiked hair, pushing a few loose strands back off of his forehead. His attention returns fully to you, though with a glance down at your white blouse, he wrinkles his nose.
“What?” You ask, looking down only to find yourself mirroring his expression. “Oh.”
Your blouse is a downright mess of snot and tears and while the tears will dry… well the same can’t be said for the snot. You frown, heading to the sink to wet a washcloth.
“Don’t bother,” Sukuna grumbles, striding into a room down the hall that you assume is his. He re-emerges a moment later with the first shirt he could find that doesn’t have the sleeves cut off. You reach out for the material as he tosses it to you.
“Thanks,” you smile, a faint heat rising to your cheeks at the prospect of wearing his shirt. Ducking away quickly to the washroom, you pull your blouse over your head and replace it with the black T-shirt, looking down at the material flowing over your body and thighs. You can’t help but giggle at the sight while Sukuna’s scent invades your senses, a comforting smokey and woodsy smell that makes you dizzy.
Straightening the shirt over your body, you nod to yourself in the mirror before re-emerging into the main living space. You can make out Sukuna’s form leaning over the balcony railing with no jacket on, even in the freezing weather. He catches a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye, taking a long final drag from his cigarette before he stubs it out in an ashtray and steps back inside.
“I think it’s a little big on me,” you giggle in reference to the shirt, cheeks remaining warm as you gingerly link your hands behind your back, rocking forward and back on your heel.
The tattooed man’s eyes trail the length of your body, the red of his irises disappearing as he does so. You cross your arms over yourself, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his sharp gaze.
He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lower lip. “Yeah, well. I’m six foot eleven, and you’re fuckin’ short.” He averts his gaze, willing his dick not to react right now. He’s already well aware of his attraction to you, and he’s sure that if he just found the time to get laid he could bury that feeling. What’s more important is that he considers you to be someone genuinely important in his life, regardless of the fact that he can’t give you a label. He’s not about to jeopardize whatever he has with you because of how hot you are and how much his dick is well aware of it.
He’s seen the looks you give him, too. Every hitch of your breath, every nervous glance away from him. He knows there’s a mutual attraction between you, but it’s one that no matter how much his sex drive seems to disagree, he knows he can’t pursue. There’s more to your connection than sex, and one night isn’t worth the effort he’s put into fixing things with you.
He can’t put a name to that connection, but he values it regardless.
“Type… O Negative?” You interrupt Sukuna’s thoughts, reading the bold green logo on the shirt as your eyes trace the heart monitor logo in matching green beneath the text. Most of the band shirts he wears have logos with the most bizarre font they’re nearly unreadable, so you can’t help but wonder if this is even a band at all. Meeting his gaze again, you tilt your head.
Sukuna’s cock twitches in his sweats. Shit, he should have worn jeans. He coughs into his elbow, leaning back against the table in an effort to hide his growing need. “They’re a band.”
“Oh, cool!” You smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners.
Getting up suddenly, Sukuna mutters something about needing to get ready for work and saunters off, leaving you standing by the table alone. You shrug it off, attempting to roll up the sleeves of the shirt and tuck it into the waistband of your leggings as best as you can in the hopes of making yourself look less like you’re in pajamas. Once you’re satisfied with the best look you think you can pull off, you take a seat at the table and begin putting together your cue cards.
Throwing yourself into your studies, you begin going through your cue cards in silence until Sukuna returns a short while later. The locks over his forehead are damp and he’s in a clean set of navy coveralls when he sits at the table beside you.
“What leaders made an effort to end the Cold War?” He quizzes, leaning over the table without so much as a glance at your cue cards.
“Reagan!”
“And?”
“Um- Gorbachev…?”
“Atta girl,” Sukuna smirks, giving your shoulder a light shove as your eyes light up, cheeks noticeably warm.
“Thank god I’m getting somewhere with all this studying,” you chuckle to yourself, straightening your cue cards. “I’m so burnt out on schoolwork,” you sigh, dropping the cards to the table.
“Why not take a break then?” Sukuna asks through a yawn.
“I can’t,” you frown, offering no further explanation. His brow arches questioningly. “I still need your help.”
His eyes flicker between yours, before dropping to your cue cards. “No ya don’t. You know the material and you’ve got cue cards for the shit you don’t remember. You’re set.”
You follow his gaze to the colorful cards with your handwriting scrawled over them in black ink. “You think so?”
“‘Course. You’re smarter than I am.”
The burly man leans forward over the table on his palm, yawning as silence sets in while you glance over your study materials. It doesn’t take long before you realize he’s in a trance, staring blankly straight ahead with a familiar distant expression.
Frowning, you have to resist the urge to reach out and pull him towards you. Maybe it’s because you’ve spent so much time with his brothers, but something about the idea of pulling him into a comforting hug feels right.
As though your body is actively working against you, your hand instinctively reaches for him. Sukuna’s gaze reflexively locks onto your hand that rests on his bicep, rubbing his tensed arm. A muscle works in his jaw as his irises flit up to you, something unreadable gleaming in his intense stare.
At the realization that you did reach out after all, you hesitantly pull back, somewhat surprised he didn’t smack your hand away in irritation. “Sorry, I…” But you have no excuse, so you trail off, awaiting his reaction.
Sukuna makes a show out of rolling his eyes, using his free hand to pull your hand back down to his bicep before leaning forward over the table and resting his chin over his elbow. He yawns again, his muscles slowly relaxing beneath your hand. You smile softly as Sukuna accepts your comfort, accepts you, and simply enjoy the comfortable silence while you use your spare hand to go through your cue cards.
His eyes are heavy as he stares blankly out the window opposite the table, the lull of sleep threatening to pull him under. As much as Sukuna hates to admit it, there’s little more tempting as of late than simply sleeping through his problems, and his mind goes blank as he eventually gives in to the temptation.
Sukuna’s breathing steadies beneath your hand, and you count your blessings that you’ve watched the kids during this shift before and you know that he has twenty minutes before he needs to leave. It might be the first time you’ve seen Sukuna completely relaxed, his jaw slack and shoulders loose. Pink strands of hair fall over his forehead, his lips only slightly parted as he breathes softly.
You gently rub circles into his arm, smiling softly at just how comfortable he’s grown with you. It touches you to see him able to simply be around you in such a way. Although you’d be lying to say you don’t want more than what you have with him, you’re grateful you have anything at all given his icy disposition. You’ve come a long way from the one-word answers and constant frustration.
Even if it’s always under the guise of an equivalent exchange, you’re glad he allows you to help him. Ever since you’ve been watching his little brothers more, he doesn’t seem as tired all the time (not that this particular moment proves that point), and you’re seeing more and more glimpses of the side of him most don’t get to see.
Your heart does a flip as his muscles twitch in his sleep beneath your fingers. He’s always trusted you on a relatively surface-level given that he lets you watch his brothers, but falling asleep under your touch is a surprising level of intimacy and reliance.
It’s a shame that twenty minutes passes so fast as you squeeze his arm in an effort to wake him.
“Stop,” he grumbles, swatting your hand away. Well, the peace can’t last forever you suppose. You give him another shake, which he certainly doesn’t appreciate. “What’d I just fuckin’ say?”
“You have work soon, Sukuna,” you giggle, giving him another shove. He cracks an eye open, his brow pulled down in a grumpy frown. He lifts his head slowly, squinting groggily at you with the imprint of the fabric of his coveralls on his cheek. You have to suppress another giggle at the disheveled glower being thrown at you.
“Fuck me,” he grumbles, rolling his shoulders before he pushes himself up from the table. He pushes his hair from his forehead and saunters around the apartment as he gathers what he needs before throwing on his coat.
“Oh, hey, where’s Choso?” You query as Sukuna fiddles with his keys.
He shrugs. “In his room, probably. He doesn’t like when Yuji cries.”
That makes sense from what you know of the middle sibling.
“Oh. He has homework due, can you make sure he does it?” Sukuna asks as he opens the front door. You nod. “I owe you one.”
Never a thank you with Sukuna, always him owing you.
“See you later, Kuna!”
The door shuts behind him and you let out a sigh, going to check on the two young boys. You knock on the door that’s slightly ajar, poking your head into their room when Yuji tells you to come in. There’s a mess of colored threads, strings, and beads strewn over a desk that they’re both crowded around, while Choso’s homework is buried beneath the mess of craft supplies.
Yuji hops off the chair and opens the door wider for you. Grinning, you let him tug you over to their table. Standing behind them both, you peer at what looks like a pile of (attempted) bead lizards with feet that don’t quite make sense.
“How are you both doing?” You figure after the tension when you walked into the apartment, they could probably use the opportunity to do a mental check-in with you. It’s not like Sukuna would be up for it, so you may as well try with his brothers.
“I’m sorry,” Yuji says as he fiddles with thread, not looking up from the very important lopsided lizard in his tiny hands. His tongue pokes out from the side of his mouth as he focuses on his craft.
“I know Yu, Kuna just has a lot going on right now. It’s okay,” you rub his back gently before turning your attention to his brother, “Choso?”
The dark-haired brother chews on his lip as he slides beads onto a thread. “I’m okay. I don’t like when they fight.” Deep in thought, his movements pause before he pulls two threads tight to keep the beads from falling off and sets a purple lizard head on the desk. “Um- I found this.”
He shoves some stray threads aside and hands you a familiar corner of paper addressed to his older brother adorned with a law firm logo. “I saw this,” you tell Choso, rounding the table to his side in an attempt to keep his brother from being involved. It’s not like he’s old enough to understand either way. “Do you know anything about it?”
He shakes his head.
“Me either,” you tell him. “If your brother wants to tell me, then he will. I’m sure everything’s okay,” you reassure despite not being so sure yourself. Sukuna is strong-willed, smart, and beyond capable. Most could never manage what he’s pulling off, but a lawsuit is another issue entirely. Sukuna’s got a mouth on him and a penchant for fighting if the rumors are true, so you can only imagine what trouble he’s gotten himself into.
Choso picks his lizard back up, sliding three purple beads onto one side of the string. “Okay.” He threads the other side back through the beads and pulls the string tight to keep them in place. “I trust you.”
You smile, ruffling his hair. “Do you need help with the feet?” You ask with a glance at the lizards with lopsided and mismatched feet.
“Please!”
“Yes!”
You can worry about Choso’s homework in a bit. For now, you think both kids could use some time relaxing and doing some crafts as you pull up a chair.
–
Sukuna drags a hand down his face as he enters his apartment to the sound of two kids who are still very awake. Excited screams fill the apartment, alongside your saccharine voice that he can only assume is attempting to corral the kids based on your stern tone.
Dropping his keys on the table at the door, he kicks his boots to the side and shrugs his coat off, ready for a shower and dead silence alone in his room more than anything. He trudges tiredly towards the washroom, his lips twitching into a frown as Yuji goes bolting past him, followed closely by Choso.
“Go to bed, brats!” He hisses, his voice gruff with irritation as he makes his way to the washroom.
You barely manage to see the door closing behind your friend as you trail after the two boys, who’ve been balls of energy all night since Choso finished his homework. It’s sweet, of course, but your burnt out mind wasn’t prepared for them to have this much energy when you agreed to watch them.
As both boys turn and come barreling past you, you barely manage to catch Yuji and hoist him up into your arms, effectively stopping their game of tag.
“Nooooooooo!!” Yuji cries out between excited giggles. Choso skids to a halt in front of you with a disappointed frown.
“Come on, kiddos. You have school tomorrow, it’s bedtime.”
You’re met with a chorus of whines and sighs as you carry Yuji to their room. Choso trails close behind, pouting as you instruct them to get ready for bed. You help Yuji with pulling his hoodie over his head and choosing a pair of pajamas before giving them time to finish getting ready.
Yuji bursts from the door in a fit of giggles, running towards the cracked door of Sukuna’s room. “Yuji, come on it’s bedti-” you call after him as you follow him through the cracked door, eyes widening at the sight of Sukuna shirtless, his hair damp and hanging over his forehead. He must have finished his shower while you were trying to get his brothers to calm down. He shoots both of you an irritated snarl, his lip curled in frustration. “Sorry!” You squeak out, corralling Yuji out the door before Sukuna can bark out an order to get out of his room.
Your heart pounds, mind distant as you manage to get both kids into bed and read them Green Eggs and Ham. Once they’ve settled and you’re certain they’ll get some rest, you’re able to leave their room with a sigh, heading back to the main living space of the apartment, but Sukuna doesn’t seem to have made his way out of his room yet.
He doesn’t seem to be in the greatest mood and you consider taking your leave without a word, but figure that’s probably more rude than simply knocking on his door. Deciding to do exactly that, you make your way over to his bedroom and lightly tap his door with your knuckles.
“Come in.”
You push the door open, standing stiffly just within the frame. His room is decorated fairly dark with blacks, grays, and reds, only the dim light of a single lamp illuminating the room enough to be seen. There’s a desk pushed to one end of the room covered in workout gear, books, and various art supplies and a pile of clothes tossed over the desk chair, while his wardrobe off to the right is covered in hygiene supplies with only a single photo that you can’t make out in the relative dark. The light from his bedside lamp hardly illuminates the posters and art on his walls, which seem to be a variety of band posters, horror film posters, and his own art. There’s a drafting table opposite his wardrobe absolutely plastered in art supplies as well, with charcoal smeared over the wood.
“You just gonna stand there lookin’ like a fish outta water?” Sukuna asks from where he’s leaning against the headboard of his bed in the center of the room. His nose is buried in his laptop, the dull glow lighting up his features. Crimson irises gleam like deep drops of blood as you round the room, taking a look around as you realize he is genuinely inviting you in. As you step towards his wardrobe, your eyes train on the photo that you can now make out in the dim light.
There’s an older man with hair that matches Yuji and Sukuna’s standing to one side of the photo. Toddler Yuji is sound asleep with his head on the man’s shoulder, with Choso in the center in a graduation cap. You assume it must be an elementary school graduation or something of the sort. Sukuna stands much taller than everyone else in the photo at the back with a mild expression. He’s noticeably taller, with no facial tattoos although you can faintly make out his neck tattoos.
In the corner of the image, there’s a piece missing, and you can see that at one point there was a woman in the side of the photo, her dress visible behind Choso. Her face has been cut out of the photo and you can’t make out a single feature aside from the end of her hair. It looks fairly similar to Choso’s, long and dark. You figure this must be their parents, and Sukuna isn’t fond of his mother.
“He was a lot better with them.” You glance back at Sukuna as he shuts his laptop, setting it on his bedside table. It’s then that you realize he’s still shirtless, your gaze falling way too obviously down to his sculpted abdomen. He looks like a goddamn sculpture by Michaelangelo himself, made by a god in his craft. The peaks and valleys of his abs could make even the strongest person’s mouth water and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t a great effort to tear your gaze from his abs. Now’s not the time. Swallowing hard, you find his eyes.
Sukuna would usually smirk, finding amusement in your inability to keep your eyes on his face, but the can of worms he’s just opened isn’t one he approaches lightly. He’s willingly offering up a piece of his vulnerability to you, leaving the ball in your court.
“That’s your dad?” You ask, turning to look at the photo again.
“Mhm. He put in a lotta when their mom left to work in another country.”
“Their mom? You’re half-brothers, then?” You carefully approach the bed, taking a seat gingerly at the side.
“Yeah. Our dad sure knew how to pick ‘em.” There’s a story there for sure, but he’s already moving on before you can pry. “He knew how to handle the brats. They were happy.”
You slide further onto the bed, leaning against the headboard beside him. “They’re happy with you too, Sukuna.”
His eyes slowly slide down from the ceiling to meet your gaze. He contemplates your words for a moment, a forlorn sigh parting his lips. “It ain’t the same.”
You shuffle to face him, sitting cross-legged as you will your eyes to stay on his face. “Sukuna, you’re good with them. You care and you’re trying, that’s what matters.”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “Good with them, my ass.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “You saw what happened earlier. Choso was afraid of me n’ Yuji was cryin’.” He drags his hand down his face. “Shit’s a disaster here. I’m never even home to look after ‘em.”
You blink as he airs his grievances with the world, with himself. “You’re joking, right?”
Sukuna’s head lolls dramatically towards you, face tense with frustration. “Do I look like I am, princess?”
A shiver runs up your spine but you keep your eyes (and mind) straight on his face. “Seriously, you are good with them. You’re allowed to be frustrated, just like Yuji’s allowed to be afraid. He’s a kid, he’s gonna make a big deal out of little things.” You offer a sympathetic smile. “And Choso’s not afraid of you. He’s worried about you.”
“Worried about what?” Sukuna’s face scrunches in confusion. “The fuck is a twelve-year-old doin’ worrying about me?”
You giggle at his brutish expression, diffusing his frustration. He blows a breath out through his lips, running a hand through his hair that’s gradually drying as you speak. The silence that envelops the both of you is calm, the lamp providing an air of warmth as you work through Sukuna’s worries. The soft orange glow of the bulb illuminates his features in such a handsome manner that it’s hard to sit next to him without stray thoughts.
“Choso may only be twelve, but he’s smart. He knows something’s off. We both do.”
His eyes shoot up, his stare intensifying. “Nothing’s off,” he growls sternly, as if trying to convince himself.
“So Yuji gets his lying habits from you, huh?” You tease, keeping your voice soft as you prod at his thigh.
“I’m not lying, fuck off with that,” he grouses, swatting your hand away. You quietly giggle to yourself again, paying no mind to his pointed stare.
“Was your dad this stubborn too?”
You’re not shocked that Sukuna’s response to your teasing is to roll his eyes, but he still entertains a response. “No. He was a teacher, he had the patience of a god.”
“That’s right, he was a history teacher, wasn’t he?”
“Mm.”
“Was he an artist too?”
“No. That’s all me.”
You slide up the bed, inching somewhat closer to him again as you lean back against the headrest, looking around the room at the art above his drafting table. “You’re a great artist, Kuna.”
He hums, following your gaze to the wall where he’s plastered anatomy practice and art of faceless figures. He doesn’t get much time to work on any art these days, but given the opportunity, he would certainly do it more.
His gaze drifts to your face, so calm and inquisitive in spite of his frosty and rough edges. You hardly seem bothered by anything he throws your way, accepting his relative rudeness in stride and he’s not sure he deserves that kindness. No, he knows he doesn’t. Still, sitting here with you, bathed in the soft light of his lamp, he finds himself seeking the comfort of your voice, so soft and understanding as you offer him genuine advice and listen to his gripes without belittling him.
You come from a world so obviously different from his, yet you never seem to see him as anything less than what he is. Hell, you see him as something more than he sees in himself, as much as he hates to admit it. Maybe that’s why he finds himself drawn to you. Maybe that’s why your absence caused him so much trouble.
In truth, he’s not so sure anymore.
There’s a lot he’s not so sure about anymore.
He basks in the silence, sighing deeply as he slumps further back against the headboard. “I think they might be better off in the hands of someone else.”
Your eyes widen, your head whipping over to stare at him. “What? You don’t seriously think that.”
“Do I sound like I’m making a fuckin’ joke?” He huffs, his jaw tense.
“Sukuna, you’re literally their hero. They look up to you more than you could ever imagine.”
He blanches, all signs of irritation dropped as his brow twitches and lips part. The expression on his face is unreadable, a mix of emotions that aren’t familiar on his chiselled features. With a sharp intake of breath, he shuts his eyes, rubbing his hands over his face.
“Kuna?”
“Gimme a moment, fuck.” His voice is muffled through his hands, remaining frozen as he lets out a long sigh. When he drops his hands from his face, he stares down at his lap with that same distant and solemn expression from earlier. You let the silence be at his request, giving him a chance to work through his jumbled thoughts.
Breathing in through his nose, he lets out a breath through pursed lips, his hand reaching for your leg as he squeezes the plush of your thigh. His jaw clenches as he clings to you like a lifeline, the only thing able to ground him and keep him from the thoughts that have been causing him to go through three times his usual dose of nicotine.
And fuck, he cannot afford to keep going through cigarettes at that rate.
Your mind is doing circles at the feeling of his touch on your leg of all places, the heat of his skin warming your leggings.
Blinking, you tilt your head to get a better view of him. “Where’s this all coming from anyway? What happened to the cocky asshole I met a couple of months ago?”
That seems to bring him back as he scowls at you, deflecting your question. “Really runnin’ your mouth for someone whose dinner came from my fridge.”
“Hey! I consider that payment for watching your brothers. Besides, my cooking is great. You should be happy I made you leftovers,” you pout.
He smirks, playfully squeezing your thigh and sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. You swallow to keep yourself from having a noticeable reaction, keeping your attention on a non-descript area of the wall. “Who’s the cocky one now, princess?”
Even with his hand heavy on your thigh, his teasing is so normal that it almost makes you forget that the heat between your legs is begging for friction that you can’t chase because he would feel your thighs clench.
“What can I say? My cooking’s that good.”
“Your cooking ends up on my fucking floor most of the time.”
“The bread crumbs were one time, Sukuna,” you whine, playfully shaking your head.
“From you, maybe. Choso tried to copy your mac and cheese and even convinced my dumb ass he knew how to do it.” Sukuna scoffs, tilting his head towards you. The warmth of his breath fans your neck as he leans in. “D’you know what happened?” He asks, his voice lowered enough to make your heart flutter.
You wince. “Bread crumbs on the floor.”
“Bread crumbs on the fuckin’ floor.”
You bring a hand up to your face, giggling. To your surprise, Sukuna’s chest jolts in a single sputtered laugh, until he’s actually chuckling along with you. Not a smug laugh, not making fun of something, your laughter is contagious and his is genuine.
Comfortable silence finds you, simply enjoying one another’s company. The dull light in his lamp flickers, pulling both of your attention to the bulb on its last legs. Your eyes trail the length of his silhouette, admiring the way his tattoos frame his face. The dark contrast of the solid ink makes the crimson of his irises pop, giving his already sharp features a more deadly appearance.
Everything about him seems to signify a lethal edge; between the way he carries himself, shutting the world out and fending only for himself and his brothers, and his inclination towards frustration. Yet, every so often, you see another side to him, a side where the edges are softer and he seems more himself.
That’s not to say those rougher edges aren’t still there, but the calmer side of him rounds him out and makes his snark more endearing.
Sukuna’s the first to turn back from the lamp, gaze flickering between your eyes. His chest rises and falls, the quiet sounds of his breath punctuating the otherwise silent room.
Sukuna can hear your breath hitch when you realize he’s staring, using the opportunity to squeeze your thigh. It pulls a strangled gasp from deep in your chest and your eyes widen. He can’t help himself, the way your body reacts to him is like a narcotic, and he can’t help but want more.
There’s never been a moment since you met that Sukuna hasn’t known you find him attractive. It’s why he enjoys pushing your buttons so much, but when you slipped so easily alongside him in his personal life, you became something more than a quick fuck. Someone to keep around. Someone who betters him.
In the dim glow of his lamp, laid out on his bed with his palm splayed over your thigh like it belongs there, something deeper stirs within him. Lust, surely. Only lust. You’re in his goddamn shirt, and he’s hungry. He’s starved for the feeling of bare skin slapping against his own, and you’re so damn gorgeous, like a cloud to any amount of judgment he can manage.
And you’re no better. You’ve been biting your lip until it’s raw as you resist the urge to clench your thighs since he invited you in. Sukuna’s not a traditional man, in all of your daydreams and fantasies, you had never imagined him treating you to dinner and romantically confessing. You never had broad expectations for anything extravagant from him.
That’s not what you want from him. You just want him as he is. You want him to let you in, to let you help him find himself and find happiness.
The air around you is charged, crackling with anticipation as his barriers begin to degrade and you let out a shaky breath. The world seems to hold its breath around you, the bustling city so quiet you could hear a pin drop as its noise fades into the background.
Sukuna’s tongue swipes over his lower lip, all reason thrown to the wolves as he leans over you and presses his lips to yours.
His lips are commanding, guiding you towards one thing and one thing only: pleasure. He moves his body over top of yours, caging you beneath his muscular build. You’re so small under him and the control he exerts over you is exhilarating.
The kiss is sloppy, filled with desperation as he settles himself over you, letting his hands roam your body. You’re pliant beneath him, thrilling in the way his hands slide down your waist to your hips. His grip tightens, fingers holding you in-place almost bruisingly. Your pussy throbs, clenching around nothing as slick pools between your thighs.
Consequences be damned, you’re both addicted to the taste and feel of one another.
Sukuna softly bites your lower lip, pulling a whimper from deep in your throat. He smirks against your lips, pressing his hardened bulge against your core. He swallows your gasp, running his tongue along your lower lip as he seeks entrance. You grant him what he’s looking for, drunk on his taste, minty with a hint of smoke.
Sliding your hands up his tense arms, you find purchase in gripping his shoulders as your head spins. He rolls his hips again, revelling in the feel of your nails digging into his bare skin. Getting your bearings, you allow your hands to explore the expanse of his chest, roaming down the high peaks and deep valleys of his extremely pronounced abs. You pause at his waistband, unable to help your smirk as he groans, his abdomen tensing under your touch.
He’s desperate for more, pressing you further into the bed as his lips explore your jaw, dipping his head into your neck to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. You tilt your head to grant him easier access, jaw slack and eyes glazed. His breath noticeably quickens when your fingers dip beneath his waistband, but you pause there.
You pull back suddenly, pushing hard against his chest as you practically have to peel him off of you.
“What’re-”
You slap a palm over his mouth, muffling the rest of his question until he can hear why you’ve paused. The sound of sock-clad footsteps on hardwood catches his attention and he quickly pulls away, putting enough distance between you to imply innocence. Sukuna pulls a pillow out from behind him, grunting as he sets it on his lap and leans his head back against the headboard.
Shortly after, the doorknob clicks and cracks open, a pair of golden-brown eyes peering into the room. Reddened and filled with tears, your mind sobers quickly as you hop off the bed and jog over to Choso to kneel before him.
“Hey, what’s going on?” You ask, taking in a breath to keep from panting.
“I had a nightmare.”
Ah. Sukuna had mentioned Choso had been having a lot of nightmares lately and it seemed to be keeping him up. You wonder if it’s related to his concerns regarding his older brother and the lawsuit. He may be young, but he seems to have a general understanding of the gravity of getting lawyers involved in situations.
Knowing what you know now about Sukuna’s family, you wonder if he’s been around lawyers before, given their father’s passing. Then there’s the question of Choso and Yuji’s mother, who’s clearly not in the picture anymore.
Quite literally.
You cast another glance back at Sukuna, whose chest is rising and falling heavily as he stares at the ceiling.
“That’s okay sweetheart, do you want me to come talk to you for a bit?”
Choso glances briefly at his brother before nodding. Smiling softly at him, you usher him out of the room and shut the door behind you, trailing after Sukuna’s little brother. He leads the way to his room, sitting on his bed.
Kneeling at the side of his bed, you keep your voice to a whisper to avoid waking his brother. “Did you want to talk about it, Cho?”
He considers this option for a moment, staring at his hands in his lap before shaking his head.
“That’s alright.” You smile reassuringly. “Your brother mentioned this has been happening a lot lately. I just want you to know you can talk to me if you need.”
Choso hesitates, staring down at his hands in his lap again, before shaking his head.
“That’s fine too. Do you want me to-”
“Chocho?” Yuji’s groggy voice sounds as he flips in his bed against the opposite wall, calling out your name as well.
“Go back to sleep, Yu. Your brother just had a nightmare,” you smile softly in the darkness of the room, your face illuminated only by a nightlight on the wall. You turn back to Choso. “Do you want me to read something until you fall back to sleep? I won’t let any monsters get you,” you reassure him with a grin.
Choso nods slowly.
“Great, what book?”
Choso peers over at the bookshelf, kicking his feet as he skims the titles on each spine. “I’ve already read all of these.”
Frowning, you tap your fingers on your thigh in thought. That had never stopped him from requesting Bridge to Terabithia before, but you suppose that’s neither here nor there at the moment.
What is with his taste in movies and books, why does he like the most heart wrenching titles?
“I could tell you a story,” you decide. Choso’s demeanor picks up as he nods eagerly, getting back in bed. You glance back at Yuji, who’s still quietly watching you. You suppose telling them a story won’t hurt. Pulling up a chair, you take a seat between the beds. “Once upon a time, there was a lovely princess. But she had an enchantment upon her of a fearful sort. Which would only be broken by love's first kiss. She was locked away in a castle, guarded by a terrible fire breathing dragon.”
You do your best to focus on your story-telling, although sitting in the dark waiting for the kids to fall asleep as you try to recall the story, something stirs in the back of your mind.
Something dread-inducing and sobering.
You would be lying if you said you hadn’t imagined your first kiss with Sukuna, dreamt of it in the back of your mind and forcibly pushed it down. It only made sense that Sukuna’s flirting was mainly out of jest and teasing, so you had swallowed your feelings and been what Sukuna needed the most. A friend.
Now with the time to think clearly, it occurs to you that there was no spark, no fireworks, and no romance behind the way you kissed. Neither of you had been chasing anything beyond surface-level lust, and you’re just as guilty as he is.
It’s painful to think that the image you’d had in the back of your mind for so long isn’t the reality, but that’s life, isn’t it? You may get another side of Sukuna that most don’t, but at the end of the day, you suppose that doesn’t mean he shares the feelings you caught for him. You had every opportunity to clarify what you wanted from him, but instead you slipped your fingers under his waistband.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Your heart clenches, your chest tightening at the realization that your friendship with Sukuna could very easily hang by a thread because you both got caught up in one another.
“The ogre and the donkey travel to…” you trail off at the realization that both kids are sound asleep, slipping out of the room with a pit of dread in your stomach.
With a sharp intake of air, you let out a breath and quietly open Sukuna’s room door.
“Hey…”
“Hey.” Sukuna hasn’t moved since you left the room.
Silence punctuates the air, the tension palpable and just as uncomfortable as you could have predicted. The friendship with Sukuna that you had worked so hard to nurture seems to hang precariously in the balance of discomfort and regret.
“Was that story fuckin’ Shrek?” Sukuna asks with narrowed eyes. It does little to quell the unease hanging low over your heads.
You laugh nervously. “Yeah. I didn’t know what story to tell.”
“Do you have the fuckin’ opening memorized?”
“I guess so,” you chuckle again, unable to meet his gaze. The silence spreads once again. “Um- I should go.”
Sukuna doesn’t know what to say. He shouldn’t have kissed you. He shouldn’t have grinded on you.
He doesn’t want to complicate something he doesn’t quite understand himself.
So why the hell does his stomach drop when those words leave your lips? Lips that were on his barely a half hour ago.
The uncertainty of where you sit with one another lies in the distance between you both. It settles like dust over a table left untouched for many years, yet it accumulated in only a few minutes. You want to reach out and find the answers you’re looking for, but you don’t have words.
What the hell are you supposed to say? You’ve hopelessly fallen for him and you don’t want whatever it is you have to end, even at the cost of unrequited feelings? No, Sukuna would push you away.
Sukuna doesn’t even attempt to clear the dust, he can only stare, wondering what’s going through your mind, because what’s going through his makes no sense to him.
Whatever it is that he’s feeling now, it’s a jumbled mess. It’s not the same distress he felt at the thought of you presenting alone and it’s not the lust he’d chased that left him with a painful erection.
Whatever he feels, it’s some sort of warning. Like an omen that he’s somehow fucked things up again with you, tearing a rift through the friendship that even he has worked hard to mend. He wonders if one heated kiss is enough to dissolve the effort he’d put into everything, if this changes what you had for good.
So why the hell are the next words to part his lips “yeah. See ya.”?
Watching you slip away, listening to you pack your belongings in a hurry and slip out the door without even a goodbye, Sukuna grits his teeth and slams his head back against the headboard. If the ground split open and swallowed him whole right now, he thinks he would prefer that to the sound of the front door shutting.
Fuck. Fuck, he did it again.
How many times would you let him fuck up your friendship before you deemed him not worth the time of day?
Shit, he hopes you’ll let him make it up to you once more, even if he’s not sure he deserves it.
What the hell was he thinking, anyway? Or, more likely, not thinking? Was he so driven by a need to wet his dick that he seeked out the one person he couldn’t bear to watch walk away from him?
Why is it that he can’t keep his mind clear when it comes to you?
Sukuna rubs his hands over his face. “Fuck.” Should he chase after you? No, no. He can’t have you thinking there’s any meaning behind his actions beyond whatever it was you already had.
And even he knows how fucked up of a thought that is, one that sits in the pit of his stomach like sour bile. He grimaces, blinking at the foreign feeling of guilt wrapping its ugly fingers tightly around him.
He pulls out his laptop, opening the email chain you’ve been using since the two of you met, but his fingers pause over the keyboard. What the hell is he supposed to say? ‘Sorry for kissing you’? ‘Sorry for thinking with my dick instead of my head’?
“Fuck,” he hisses, louder this time. Tossing his laptop on his bed, he trudges out into the living room, grabbing the broken cap of his lighter and its base from his coat pocket, and what’s left of his pack of cigarettes before standing out in the cold night air in only his sweatpants.
The nicotine hardly seems to make a dent in the toiling emotions tightening his chest and hollowing his stomach. He’s smoked his way through so many packs lately that the dent on his wallet and his reliance on the drug only seems to be growing, yet another pile of problems to add onto his list.
You’re the only thing that seems to quell his narcotic addiction, but you’ve got to be some sort of drug yourself with the way Sukuna behaves like a braindead dumbass around you.
Staring at the ember at the end of the cigarette in his hand, he sighs, leaning forward on the railing of the balcony. The cold doesn’t seem to touch him, like he’s numb to the world beyond his own issues.
Sukuna is a truly fucked man.
main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter - coming soon
❦ a/n ; poor sukuna and reader do nawwwt know how to make things easy on themselves 🙂↔️ thank you all so much for reading and for all the love and kind comments and asks, they seriously make my day and i'm so happy to chat with yall and hear your thoughts.
shoutout as well to my reader who suggested a type o negative shirt cameo, this one's for you <33
reader is stronger than i am for not leaping on sukuna when he invited her into his room shirtless tbh. i am weak for him
ANYWHO thaaank you as always and i hope you're all doing well <33
❦ taglist ; OPEN. please comment here or on the masterlist if you would like to be tagged. age MUST be easily visible on your blog.
Not my picture!!!^ I DO NOT OWE ANY RIGHTS TO THE ILLUSTRATION!
So um this is my first smut, please don't be mean🥺
The movie night
The cozy hum of the television filled the room, the dim glow from the screen painting soft shadows across the walls. You adjusted your blanket as the opening credits of the movie played, sneaking a glance at Choso sitting next to you on the couch. His sharp features caught the bluish light—the strong jawline, slightly furrowed brows, and his dark eyes, always so piercing, as if they could see straight through you.
Choso wasn’t just your best friend; he was your anchor, the one who understood you better than anyone else. And yet, there was something more—a quiet tension that had been brewing for years, an unspoken connection neither of you dared to name.
Tonight, though, something felt different.
"You've seen this movie like, a hundred times. Don’t you ever get bored?" Choso’s voice broke through your thoughts, low and teasing.
"Not with good company," you shot back, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.
He smirked, leaning back with an air of casual confidence. "Flattery won't save you if you start crying during the sad parts again."
You rolled your eyes and gave his shoulder a light shove, but his smirk only deepened. The movie played on, but you couldn’t focus. The heat of his arm brushing against yours was too distracting, the faint scent of his cologne intoxicating.
Halfway through, you felt his gaze on you. Turning your head, you met his eyes. His usual teasing demeanor was gone, replaced with something darker, more serious.
"What?" you asked, your voice quieter now.
"Nothing," he muttered, but he didn’t look away.
The air felt thick with something unsaid. You shifted nervously under his gaze, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was.
You were curled up on the couch, a blanket draped loosely over your legs, but no matter how much you shifted to get comfortable, your attention refused to settle on the movie playing on the screen.
Choso sat beside you, one arm draped over the back of the couch, his fingers idly brushing against the strands of your hair. His presence was magnetic, as always. Everything about him demanded your attention—the sharp cut of his jawline, the brooding way his dark eyes lingered on you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.
But tonight, he wasn’t even pretending to watch the movie.
“You keep fidgeting,” he said, his voice low and rough, tinged with irritation.
You looked up at him, startled by the intensity in his tone. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was bothering you.”
“It’s not,” he muttered, shifting closer. The couch dipped under his weight, and the space between you all but disappeared. “You’re just... distracting.”
Your breath caught in your throat. “How am I distracting you? You’re the one staring at me.”
He huffed out a sharp breath, his jaw clenching. “Maybe I wouldn’t stare if you didn’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re daring me to do something I might regret.”
The tension crackled between you, hot and electric. For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.
“Choso, what are you talking about?” you finally asked, your voice softer now, almost trembling.
He ran a hand through his dark hair, his frustration palpable. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Do what?”
“This,” he growled, gesturing between the two of you. “Pretending like I’m okay just being your friend. I’m not. I haven’t been for a long time.”
Your heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst out of your chest. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because you mean too much to me,” he said, his voice raw. “I didn’t want to risk losing you. But every time I’m around you, every time you smile at me or laugh at my stupid jokes, I feel like I’m losing my mind. I don’t want to just be your friend anymore.”
You stared at him, his words sinking in like the tide washing over you. “Cho... I—”
Before you could finish, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. For a split second, you froze, stunned by the suddenness of it. But then your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer as you melted into him. That made him lose it right there and then.
Choso’s lips trailed up your neck as he hovered over you, his dark eyes ablaze with hunger. His chest heaved against yours, his breath hot and uneven. His weight pinned you to the couch, his body radiating heat and power. Every touch of his hands, every press of his lips, left you trembling with anticipation.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly as his lips brushed against your ear. “Spread it for me (y/n)"
You gasped, arching into him, your hands clawing at his back. “I need you, Choso. Please.”
He smirked, his hand sliding down to grip your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh. “Good,” he said, his tone dark and commanding. “Because I don’t think I can stop now, princess.”
The nickname sent a thrill through you, your thighs pressing together instinctively. He caught the movement, his eyes narrowing as he sat back on his heels to look down at you. His hands gripped your thighs, prying them apart effortlessly.
“No hiding from me,” he said, his voice sharp as he delivered a quick slap to the inside of your thigh.
You yelped, the sting of his hand making heat pool in your core. He smirked at your reaction, leaning down to nip at your skin before positioning himself between your legs again.
When his fingers dipped between your folds, his brows furrowed in concentration. “You’re soaked,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. “Dripping for me already, and I’ve barely touched you.”
“Choso, please,” you whimpered, bucking your hips into his hand.
“Patience,” he said, his tone teasing as he slipped one long, thick finger inside you. The stretch made you gasp, your back arching as he began to move, slow and deliberate.
“God, you’re tight,” he groaned, adding a second finger. His eyes locked on yours as he thrust them in and out, his movements unhurried but firm. “I can feel you squeezing me already, princess. How are you going to take all of me?”
“Let me try,” you pleaded, your voice trembling.
His laugh was low and sinful, his free hand delivering a sharp smack to your ass that made you gasp. “You’ll do more than try,” he said, pulling his fingers out and lifting them to his lips. He licked them clean, groaning at the taste of you. “You’ll take everything I give you.”
Your body clenched in anticipation as he positioned himself at your entrance. When you glanced down, your breath hitched. He was big—long, thick, and veined in a way that made your mouth water and your core tighten with want.
“Eyes up here, princess,” he said, gripping your chin and tilting your face toward his. “I want to see your face when I stretch you open.”
He pressed the tip of his cock against you, the heat and size of him making you whimper. “Relax,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you, his lips soft and coaxing. “I’ll go slow at first.”
Slow wasn’t how it felt. As he pushed into you, inch by inch, the stretch was almost overwhelming. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.
“You’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice strained. “You’re squeezing me like you're tryna milk me.”
“Choso,” you moaned, your legs wrapping around his waist. “You’re s-so big, I'm ah so - fuck- so full.”
He grunted, the sound primal, as he seated himself fully inside you. He paused, his forehead resting against yours as he let you adjust. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his hand sliding up to cradle your face. “Absolutely perfect.”
When you shifted your hips, silently begging for more, he chuckled darkly. “Ready already?” he teased, rolling his hips experimentally. The friction made you cry out, your hands clutching at his biceps.
“More,” you begged, your voice trembling.
“More?” he echoed, his lips curling into a wicked grin. His hand slid to your throat, his fingers wrapping around it in a firm but careful grip. “Say it, princess. Beg me for it.”
“Please, Cho,” you gasped, the pressure of his hand sending a delicious thrill through you. “I need you to fuck me—h harder, . Please!”
His restraint snapped. His grip on your throat tightened just enough to make your breath hitch as he pulled back and slammed into you, his cock filling you completely. The force of his thrusts sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, each one stronger than the last.
“God, you’re so wet,” he groaned, his free hand sliding under your ass to lift your hips, angling you just right. “Listen to the way you take me, princess. So messy, so desperate for me.”
The sound of skin against skin filled the room, accompanied by your breathless moans and his animalistic groans. He thrust into you relentlessly, his pace brutal and unyielding, each movement pushing you closer to the edge.
His hand left your throat to grip your hips, pulling you into him with each thrust. The sting of his fingers digging into your flesh only heightened the pleasure, making you cry out his name.
“That’s it,” he growled, his voice rough. “Scream for me, princess. Let the whole world know who you belong to.”
You were too far gone to respond, your mind consumed by the intensity of him—the way he filled you, stretched you, pushed you past your limits. When his hand came down on your ass again, the sharp sting sent you spiraling.
“Choso!” you screamed, your body clenching around him as your release tore through you.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his pace faltering as your walls tightened around him. “You feel so good, squeezing me like that. I’m not done with you yet.”
With a swift move he flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up so you were on your knees. Without hesitation, he plunged back into you, his movements rougher than before.
"Fuck Choso wait, ah too much"
“You can take it,” he said, his hand coming down on your ass again. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you? My perfect little princess.”
“Yes!” you cried, your voice muffled against the couch. “I’m yours, Choso. Only yours.”
His hand pushed on the small on your back, making your arch deepen even more, if that was possible.
The sound of your submission seemed to push him over the edge. His thrusts grew erratic, his breaths ragged as he chased his release. God it felt so good, and he knew that. "Cho, ah please" you don't even know what you were begging for at this point.
"What is it (y/n)? Did I fuck you dumb already?" His pace getting sloppier, but he doesn't miss going deep inside you thight little cunt. God he was dreaming of this night for so long, he doesn't want it to end anytime soon. "You're gonna milk me dry, yeah princess? Gonna take it all like a good girl you are?" He smacked your ass again to bring you back "Ah~ yes Cho, I want it all"
Drool Dripping down the corner of your mouth, you're on cloud nine and feel you 2nd orgasm approaching. Choso cant hold it any longer, your body is just too perfect, pussy thight and dripping for him "Fuck~ take it, take it all" he grunts in your ear as you cum with him
"Choso!!!!"
He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as both of you struggled to catch your breath. His lips pressed against your forehead, his hand brushing damp hair from your face.
“You’re amazing,” he murmured, his voice soft now.
“So are you,” you whispered, your heart swelling as you looked up at him.
He smiled, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip. “Don't get too comfortable, princess because we’re not done yet.”
❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Content | language, heavy sexual tension, teasing, taunting, possessiveness, jealous men, drama, toxicity, alcohol, tw; spitting, dirty talk, dry humping, tw: mean cliffhanger (sorry not sorry lol), etc...
❧ Word Count | 6.1k
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.
| Chapters mlist |
——Whispering near your lips, Choso had taken a step even closer to you and placed his gloved hand upon the right side of your waist.
Then he tugged you closer as if to emphasize his words, “Cat got your tongue, princess? Or, what, are you replaying our moments together?” You were. “Am I finally occupying your mind again?” Choso utters even lower than before as he takes your chin into his other hand and tips your head up—causing your lips to actually brush against his. “C’mon, talk to me, argue with me, say something-, anything.”
Your voice comes out airy and you hate the way he seems to have you all wrapped around his finger. “Y-You’re insufferable.” With tense brows and a body that unfortunately won’t move against his hold, you gape at him with this burning feeling on your skin at his every touch.
Choso smiles, “Was I insufferable while I was riiight…” The hand on your waist slides over to your stomach and his thumb presses just below your belly button, “Here? Hm?” He applies a bit more pressure there and you gasp. “Or, again, do you only ever think of me when Gojo denies you of sex?”
“No, Choso. It’s not like that,” You huff out, despite the flashbacks replaying in your mind and the tingle that just ran up your spine. “You just… Every conversation with you now revolves around one thing; sex. It’s all you ever bring up with me and I am tired of it, okay? I’ve told you no and yet you keep trying—“
“You keep letting me try,” He cuts off rudely, sliding his thumb up to your bottom lip. “Even right now, you’ve yet to smack my hands away or even tell me to stop touching you. I wonder why that is.”
Well, shit. You can’t even explain it yourself. Maybe it’s because deep down inside you know that you and Choso’s relationship has always been like this. You’ve always let him tease and taunt you to degrees that know no end. From the day you first met to now, you still can’t find it in you to pull yourself away from his touch.
You prove his point instantly with the way you let him slip his thumb in between your glossed lips, watching the way he smiles slightly at the sight. “I know you don’t have any feelings for me but,” Choso pressed his thumb down on your bottom row of teeth just a bit, allowing your lips to part open and for your breaths to mingle with one another. “Your body damn sure does.”
Ever so softly, you whine. “You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?”
“‘Course I did, baby. I get it, I bring the sex up all the time but can you really blame me?” Yes. “You ‘n I have almost gotten to that point how many times before it actually happened?” He asks rhetorically, “And then, the only reason it finally happened is because of this lil’ crush you have on Gojo?? Hah, why would I stop trying when I know you don’t want me to?”
The daggers you're shooting him via gaze seem not to phase him in the slightest. Maybe, just maybe, he had a point here. You hated the way he was reading through you right now, knowing you couldn’t really argue with him. No matter what you say, your body language will always be your truth. Even now as he allows his eyes to glide down to your lips that are practically on his, you can hardly even form a thought to tell yourself to pull away.
Tell him to stop. Tell him to go away. Tell him to let go of you and leave you the hell alone. That’s what you want, isn’t it??
…So why are you letting him slide his thumb out your mouth and gently force your lips into a pout? Why do you let him move both of his hands to your waist and hold you like he’s your boyfriend or something? And why, just why, do you let him press his lips against yours so faintly that it’s almost as though he didn’t just kiss you??
“You're not dating him,” Choso reminds you—which stings because you wish you were. Maybe then you’d find it in you to tell Choso to back off. “So like, if you simply don’t want me at all, jus’ say that.”
You can’t. Physically, mentally, whatever-the-fuck-lly, you cannot find it anywhere in yourself to tell Choso Kamo that you don’t want him in any way. Perhaps it was because of the crush you had on him years ago. Maybe those teenage feelings never really died off like you thought they did and now they’ve returned in the worst way possible.
It sucks because you know in your head you don’t want to date Choso. You know you want to go be with Gojo. But there’s just this little void space in between all of that in which you’re conflicted. Call you Hannah Montana with the way you want the best of both worlds.
You want the affection you receive from both men simultaneously.
But, at the same time, you don’t. At the same time, all you can do is replay Gojo’s smile in your head, his voice, his touches, his tenderness, and then it all just feels right. With Choso there’s just this constant battle you’re fighting where it feels so wrong but so damn good at the same time.
“I can’t,” You eventually mutter, finally turning your head off to the side. “It’s not that I don’t want you, Cho. I just… I told you before I’m—“
“Woahhhhh,” Another, terrifyingly familiar voice comes bursting into the kitchen. At the sound of it, your body is motionless and you’re lucky Choso swiftly slides his hands off of you to shove them into his pockets. “What’s goin’ on in heree?” Gojo’s slightly slurred tone hits your ear and your eyes are wafting away from Choso in search.
You end up tipping your body to the side to spot Gojo stumbling his way deeper into the kitchen. The button-up shirt he's got on beneath the vest he’s wearing is unbuttoned significantly lower than before and you note how his cheeks are reddened more.
Choso looks back at the guy from over his shoulder, not making an effort to remove the distance between your body and his whatsoever. Your eyes rake over your crush's staggering frame and you quickly note that he’s drunk.
Or at least, you thought he was until his eyes were setting on you peeking around Choso’s body and how close you were to the guy. From Gojo’s angle of view, he could tell your body was practically pressed up against Choso’s. The two of you didn’t have any hands on one another by the time he gathered the sight but the proximity alone was enough to sober him up for a moment.
The lazy smile Gojo had on his face flickered slightly as he took long strides over to the two of you. His next actions are smooth. Gojo brushes past Choso but hooks an arm around your waist in the process, soon finding himself standing on your right side and pulling you up close to him. Choso lets his eyes trail Gojo and his possessive little movements, cocking an irritated grin at the sight.
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Gojo asks Choso, sizing him up and down. Suddenly, there’s less of a slur to his words in comparison to moments before.
Choso has to clench his jaw a bit to bite back every snarky response that nearly rolled off of his tongue just now. Desperately does he want to tell Gojo about how this isn’t the first time he’s interrupted something intimate with you. Last time you and Choso were about to have sex again before he came knocking on the apartment door and now he had interrupted you in explaining your feelings to Choso.
So, to hold himself back, Choso scoffs in Gojo’s face and looks off to the side. “Nah man, you’re fine.” He replies dryly. The next thing that leaves his lips is a bit of an accident but he just can’t help himself, “Me ‘n her live together so I’m sure we can continue our talk later, right?” Choso asks with a glance at you.
You can feel Gojo’s fingers gripping onto your waist a little tighter as if to silently tell you something. Whatever it is though, you’re unsure of. “Right,” You murmur softly.
Gojo’s brows rise in interest. “You two were pretty close to each other just now for a convo that’s bein’ saved for later…” He points out.
“We’ve been closer,” Choso regrettably snaps back. Fuck, you even see the recoil on his face as his eyes squeeze shut for a second, clearly regretting the words that just left him.
Drunk or not, the gears in Gojo’s head begin to grind. He’s not stupid, far from it, so he can infer the implications behind such a statement. Lucky for you, the alcohol in his system does interfere with him jumping to the right assumptions. “Yeah? I’m sure you guys have,” Gojo says, looking down at you, “You two have been friends for uh,” He clicks his tongue, “Eight years, no?”
“Just about,” Choso replies for you, both of their eyes set on you.
You gulp and try to play off how nervous you are with a slight chuckle. Then you turn more into Gojo and distract him with a hug. Placing your chin on his chest, you angle your head up to look at him, “What’re you doin’ in here anyways? I thought you went to go sit down?”
Just the sight of you hugging Gojo and staring up at him is enough to piss Choso off albeit clearly unintentional.
Gojo, who oddly adores Choso's audience at the moment, places his hands on your sides, exactly where Choso’s touch was just a few seconds before he came into the kitchen. “I did but then Suguru found me and wanted me to take some shots with him. Right after that, I started missin’ you sooo, I came to find ya’.” He explains with this doting look in his eyes.
You smile, “Aw, you really do get clingy when drunk, huh?”
“I tried to warn you,” Gojo snickers softly before leaning down.
He was moving to kiss you. You don’t know why but you panic.
Choso’s still standing there quietly waiting for you two to remember his presence, watching the whole thing and… seeing things you don’t.
Now, if you pulled away from Gojo, he would have known something was up so, you don’t. Because of that and the way your eyes shut to allow him to kiss you, you miss the way Gojo keeps his eyes open just to glare at Choso while his lips slot onto yours.
Choso meets said glare and his heart aches in his chest. Every thought of his is screaming to blurt out the fact that he’s done exactly what Gojo’s doing now, years before Gojo even knew who you were. Choso wants to throw it in Gojo’s face how he’s seen the expressions you make when you’re making the filthiest lil’ mess around his cock. He wants to explain how Gojo’s likely temporary for you and how you’ll always end up coming right back into his arms the moment the guy fucks up.
To make matters worse, Gojo smiles against your lips. While your best friend didn’t exactly say anything, his face was doing all the talking right now. Which was enough to lead Gojo into bringing a hand down to your ass and squeezing before he finally shuts his eyes and kisses you properly.
You hum at the sudden push of his lips against you and then jump against his hold the moment his hand smacks your ass. “Satoru,” You utter between his kisses, earning a low grunt from his throat before his lips detach from yours.
Gojo takes one long look at your face, feeling Choso’s eyes still on him, and then he smirks. His free hand moves to your lips, exactly like how your best friend did, and spreads your lips apart. “Hold on, stick out your tongue f’me,” Gojo instructs. You’re confused but, you do it anyway.
Gojo huffs a small scoff through his nose, glances at Choso one more time, and then looks at you. “You came in here for somethin’ to drink right?” He’s not about to do what you think he is, is he? “Lemme give you a taste of what I’ve been sippin’ on, yeah?”
You’re not sure what’s worse. The way your tongue rolls out a bit further in anticipation, the fact that Choso’s watching this, or the fact that Gojo actually lets a filthy glob of spit waft down onto your tongue… And then to top it all off, you swallow it down with no hesitation.
“Fuck, that was hot,” Gojo whispers, leaning in to kiss you again.
This time you pull back and turn your head, “Enough Satoru. Choso’s standing right—“
“Nah, pretend I’m not even here, honestly,” Choso comments finally, his hands balled into fists within the confines of his pockets. “That’s what you’ve been doin’ all night anyway,” He mutters beneath his breath whilst his feet swivel against the ground. “I’ll just uh, go ahead ‘nd see my way out.” Is the last thing said before you turn your head back and see him snatching up his drink from the counter.
“Wait,” You huff, breaking away from Gojo’s touches entirely. You hurry over to Choso and whisper, “We’ll talk more tonight, okay? I promise.”
Choso’s gaze flickers in sincerity at your words. “You promise?” He whispers back.
“Yeah.” You nod.
“Alright.” He says to you before doing one last thing as if to get back at Gojo’s recent display of affection. Choso takes hold of one of your hands and carefully yanks your body toward him. He wraps his arms around your waist and hugs you—appearing as though he were embracing you just to say bye.
But, because of a certain pair of blue eyes watching his every move, Choso smirks and moves his lips to press against your ear with a soft-spoken voice. “I’ll see you later tonight then.” He tells you.
After which, Choso looks at something (more like someone) behind you and then smiles fully. Whatever he was just trying to accomplish has certainly worked. And with that, he pulls away from you and leaves the kitchen with a slight wave of his hand.
You found that… weird. Why did he hug you and whisper in your ear like that all of a sudden? It’s not like he said anything incriminating. You shrug Choso’s oddness off and turn back around.
Coming face first with the man, Gojo’s now standing a lot closer than where you’d left him. For the nth time of the day, you flinch out of surprise. “Satoru, shit. I thought you were—“
“You done?” Gojo breathes out all of a sudden.
Your brows pinch up and you hum. “What? Done with what?”
“This party,” He clarifies, his expression unreadable. “I’m ready to go.”
“We’ve only been here for like thirty minutes,” You tell him with a weary smile on your face. “What’s wrong?”
Gojo stares at you as if you should be able to read his mind or something but, the truth is, his expression tells you nothing. He looks like he’s pissed off? But, he also looks like he’s fine? You’re unsure of what to make of his face right now.
“I just,” He pauses, clearly deciding his words carefully before he sighs. “I wanna be alone with you for a sec'.”
You glance around the kitchen, “We’re alone right now?”
Gojo shakes his head, “I mean, somewhere more private.”
“Ah,” You nod. “Do you wanna go find a room?”
“There’s a couple fucking in almost every one,” He tells you, cringing at the flashback. “I stumbled into a few while lookin’ for the bathroom. But uhm, what about my car?”
“That seems private enough... Are you sure everything’s okay?” You ask with a concerned tilt of your head.
Gojo’s eyes look almost tired, the emotion in them unrecognizable to you. With another sigh, he shrugs. “Yeah, I guess so. I… I don’t know, jus’ want you to myself for a second, alright?” There’s this sudden attitude that pops off in his words and it makes your heart twinge funnily. Then he’s stepping past you and walking away as if he wants you to follow him.
You’re wildly confused but, you do anyway.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
The walk to Gojo’s car is almost awkward for you. With no idea what’s gotten into him so suddenly, he just seems grumpy the whole way there. Even as Shoko bumps into you two on the way out, dressed as a doctor, she doesn’t even get a cheerful response from him like normal.
There are some other now familiar faces you pass but every time you stop to wave or to see what they're trying to say to you, Gojo ends up grabbing your hand and pulling you along.
By the time you reach his car, he has the two of you shuffling into the back seat instead of the front for reasons you’re unsure of.
Again, it’s awkward as a moment of silence passed with just you and him sitting inside. The distant sounds of the party can still be heard but it’s weird for you to be out here with Gojo instead of in there partying when he’s the one who invited you out to this whole thing. Why was he acting like this—
Gojo says your name suddenly and your head turns to him. He’s already looking at you but what surprises you is how he leans closer. “Can I kiss you?” He requests, throwing you all the way off.
Did he… Did he really just pull you out of the party just to kiss you in private?? Had you misinterpreted his past few public kisses and touches for something else? What the hell is going on? Why did he—
“Please,” Gojo’s face is now right in front of yours and his lips are hardly an inch away. “Jus’ one,” When is it ever just one with this man… and why does that questioning thought give you this sense of deja vu?
Despite the raging questions and confusion swirling in your head, you nod.
Gojo presses his lips to yours and you feel weird for a second. Maybe it was the lack of understanding that really turned you off or maybe it was the alcohol resting on his lips that you hadn’t noticed earlier but either way, you feel odd.
He pulls away when he notices you’re not kissing back like normal and his eyes soften, “What’s wrong?” Gojo asks.
You fold your arms, “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“I mean, yeah but—“
“No, Satoru. No buts, what the hell is wrong with you?” You snap all of a sudden. Half of you doesn’t even know where this sudden irritation is coming from. “You do all of that weird shit in front of Choso and then drag me out the party just to kiss me? I don’t understand. Why show off whatever it is we have in front of Choso but not anyone else? A-Are you trying to keep us as some sort of secret..?”
Gojo mistakenly scoffs at your words. Right in front of your face too. “What?” He breathes. “What ‘weird shit’ did I do in front of him? And what do you mean ‘keep us as some sorta’ secret’? We’re not together.”
That stung. Again. Just like when Choso reminded you earlier except it hurt significantly worse coming from Gojo himself.
“I-I’m talking about the touching, the kissing, the…” You hate it but there’s a shake in your voice now. Stuttered over a few words and your emotions conflicting inside you. “T-The spitting into my mouth. I obviously don’t mind it but it’s confusing when you do that and then drag me all the way out here because you don’t want anyone else seeing us do those things.”
He shifts, sliding back into his seat and weighing his head to the side. Gojo’s eyes narrow, “Who said I didn’t want anyone else seeing us do those things?”
“Your actions did,” You explain, just barely keeping your gaze on him.
He smirks but you can tell he’s frustrated. “You think I brought you out here to hide the stuff we do together??”
“That’s what it seems and feels like, yes—“
“No, I brought you out here because I needed a moment to just be with you,” Gojo interrupts, rolling his eyes away from you and slumping back against the seat. “Alone. I was irritated about something and being alone with you always calms me down.”
You slide a bit closer to him and lean your head to the side a bit to gain the eye contact back, “Irritated about what?”
He’s quiet for a while. Doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look at you—just lets his aggravation fester inside him. At some point, his leg starts bobbing up and down and he glances to his left to look out the window.
Gojo’s met with the view of the neighboring house to the one the party’s taking place at. There’s no one over there at the moment, the lights are all off, and the entire vibe is different from the house just across the street. It’s a nice contrast to the chaos elsewhere.
It’s slow but, Gojo finally responds to you in monotone, “Seein’ Choso’s grimy hands all over your fuckin’ body.”
You had a feeling that's what it was but, you could never be too sure.
“So…” You scoff, “You got jealous.”
Gojo’s face twists up and he swivels his head to look at you, flinching slightly at how close you’ve gotten to him. “The fuck? Jealous? Me?” He spits out to you, trying to play off his initial surprise at seeing the lessened space between you two.
“Yeah you, who the hell else?” You bite back, sizing him up and down and scrunching your face up.
Gojo almost finds the mirrored expression cute. “I wasn’t jealous.” He tells you.
“So why did it bother you that he touched me the way he did?” Your question makes him swallow thickly but you don’t stop there, “Especially if uh, ‘we’re not together’?”
You don’t know it but those words burn him in the same way they burned you. It’s an irritating reminder because he has no business feeling the way he does considering that.
Gojo’s upper lip twitches a bit, “Cause I just didn’t like it.”
“That’s called jealousy.”
“I wasn’t fuckin’ jealous!” He huffs.
To which you smile. Then you’re moving over some more and he’s following every shift of your body until you throw a leg over his and straddle him. Gojo’s looking up at you now but the tension in both the car and your faces has yet to fade.
Although, there is this sudden softness to your tone that makes him gulp again. “There’s nothing wrong with it, y’know. It’s okay to be jealous.” As you explain, your hands go to his shoulders and you hear him sigh.
“Is it?” Gojo questions in an equally softened tone.
“Yeah,” You hum, “It would help me understand you if you admit that’s what this whole thing is about.”
He shakes his head, his hands sliding up to relax on your thighs. “No, because when I get jealous over stuff, I think about doing stupid shit.”
With your brows shooting up in a mix of curiosity and concern, “Like what?” You ask him.
“Like fuckin’ you in front of Choso,” Gojo replies almost immediately.
You blink. “So, you’re admitting it?”
His eyelids lowered, “That I was jealous?”
The tension in the car has… shifted.
“Yeah,” You utter gently, not yet sitting on top of him but just barely hovering over him.
“I guess so, I dunno.” Gojo huffs. His hands travel up to your hips and he squeezes, “I just… Maybe it’s the alcohol but I can’t fuckin’ think straight.”
You frown and lean forward, looping your arms around his neck, “So talk to me then.”
“I can’t. My head’s all over the place,” He admits to you. Truth be told, Gojo doesn’t know how to handle what he’s feeling right now. This is.. unusual for him. “Part of me wants to ignore whatever the fuck I’m feelin’ and just go back inside with you and the other part of me wants to…”
You tilt your head, a small act he finds so intoxicatingly attractive at the moment. “Wants to what?” You inquire.
“Fuck you to prove a point I don’t have to,” He admits begrudgingly.
His admission only makes you chuckle. You can’t say you woke up expecting to encounter a jealous Gojo today but, here you are straddling him. You’re not seated on top of him fully just yet, it’s more like your thighs are resting over his but there’s this small sliver of space between your crotch and his.
The heated tension from earlier has shifted into a very apparent sexual tension. You can feel it in his touch as he slips his fingertips upward to hold your exposed waist before sliding them back down to your hips.
Technically speaking, Gojo’s been itching to get like this with you since the two of you were dancing earlier. That’s part of why he came to the kitchen to look for you. He has no trouble controlling himself but drinking never really helps him balance his hormones properly. That, and he didn’t want both of you to be drunk the first time you have sex.
And yes, that does say that he intended to have sex with you today. Not that he planned it from the day prior or anything like that but, sometime throughout that party, Gojo told himself he’d rather die than go home without having you in some way shape, or form.
He’d never force you into anything, of course. But, you let him give you head before so, surely you’d let him do that again?
Though, that’s not what he wants now. Not when you’re seated on top of him, not when your skin is reacting to every slip of his fingers, and certainly not when he wants to fuck every thought of Choso out of that pretty lil’ head of yours.
“What kinda point are you trying to prove?” You soon ask with a breathy laugh leaving your supple lips that Gojo keeps glancing at.
He shrugs, “Told you I can’t think straight so, I don’t even know.” Oh but he does know. He wants to prove that the relationship he has with you currently trumps whatever the fuck you and Choso have. Who cares if you and that dickhead have been friends for eight years? The way you’re looking at Gojo right now alone outweighs that tenfold. Right?
Maybe he’s just in his head too much right now—unsure how to juggle this feeling in his chest. So, Gojo just tugs your upper half closer, causing your tits to press against his chest before he buries his face into your neck. The tip of his nose runs against your skin and he inhales, his breath hitching midway through due to the smell of another guy on you.
Annoyed, Gojo quickly presses wet kisses into your neck and you jump in surprise.
“S-Satoru,” You stammer, finding the sudden kissing ticklish and trying not to laugh. “Hey, woah, what are you d-doing,” You snort and a smile spreads across your face, “That tickles-, hey.”
He pauses himself just below your jawline, having heard the sudden breathiness of your tone. “You smell like him too,” Gojo tells you before latching his lips onto the area he’d previously stopped at, suckling your skin into his mouth. Your head tips back like it’s natural for you to do so and he grins into your skin. “I hate it.”
Chuckling again, “Just come out ‘n say you're jealous already—“
“I’m jealous,” Gojo states hotly into your neck. Angling himself downwards, he licks you, “Soo fuckin’ jealous, sweetheart.”
You hate the way his words make you feel so stupidly happy. Gojo Satoru, jealous because of you? Oh you’re in heaven right now considering your feelings for him. “Satoru.” You end up gasping as he nips you.
“More of that,” He breathes.
You sigh and a faint whine exits your throat, “M-More of what?”
Gojo’s sucking and tugging at your neck with his lips, leaving mark after mark on you as if they’re rightfully supposed to be there. “My name on your tongue.” He soon hums lowly, having moved to the center of your throat.
Just as he says that his hands force you to sit on him fully. The sudden contact of his hard cock pressing up against your clothed cunt makes you gasp louder than before, “Oh fuck…” You murmur, surprised you can even feel how painfully erect he is through all the thick layers of leather and the fabric of his pants. “‘Toru,” Whining now, he can only smile.
He’s trying so hard not to grind himself up against you but the sounds you’re letting out really aren't making things any easier for him. “Mh? Feel that?” He asks with a tip of his head and a messy slide of his lips over your neck.
“Mhm,” You hum sexually, testing the waters a bit with a small roll of your hips forward.
Gojo pries away from your throat with a wet pop, admiring his work for a second. Then, he flicks his eyes up to your awfully needy face, “You want it or what?”
“Here?” You squeak in surprise, “I-In your car?”
Gojo pulls back a bit and smiles knowingly, “Would you rather us do it outside and against the car..?”
God, you hate how much of a tease he is. “No! I just…” Even the way your lashes bat ever so softly has Gojo’s cock twitching. “What if someone sees—“
“Girl,” He scoffs sassily, rolling his eyes at you for the nth time. “I have tint on my windows, the hell do you take me for? Hm?” He asks, expecting no sort of answer as his hands tighten on your hips and he looks down. “Pluuus, look at you. Your body wants it.”
You’ve been almost unconsciously grinding against him ever since he pressed you down against himself. His eyes watch in a daze as you skillfully rock yourself back and forth and back and forth over his throbbing cock. He’s so turned on that it’s starting to hurt not being inside you right now.
Then your voice hits his ears in that softer aroused tone he recognizes and fuck is his tip leaking in pre against his boxers. “How long have you been hard?” You ask.
He doesn’t need even a second to think about it, “I told you I was earlier.”
“I didn’t think you were serious!” You puff out.
Gojo runs his hands up along your body, his touch smoother than ever as he leans back some more, glides his hands up to your waist, and spreads his legs a bit further. “Doesn’t take much for you to turn me on, pretty girl.” He comments, voice growing raspier.
Just that simple statement makes you so insanely wet. He was very specific with his words just now. It doesn’t take much for you to turn him on. Your hormones are starting to make you dizzy at this point and all you can do is bite back a moan, “Shut up—“
“Ride me,” Gojo commands abruptly.
“H-Huh?” You gape, hips jerking against him.
He smirks, “I didn’t stutter. Ride me, baby.” Gojo repeats casually. Then he tips his head back and the angle of his annoyingly attractive features just does it for you. Especially as the next set of lewd words come rolling off his tongue, “Put that pretty pussy on me, c’mon.”
You slap a hand over his mouth. “How did we even get here…” Are you seriously trying to backtrack this conversation? Yes. You two were bickering just a few moments ago… “Weren’t we arguing?”
He shrugs, “We can continue that while my cock’s inside you if you want.”
“Satoru.” You say sternly.
“If you don’t want to, just say that.”
“But…”
A beat of silence passes, the air only consisting of the messy friction occurring between your crotch and his. That, and your syncing breathing as the two of you stare intimately into each other's eyes. All you can do is replay the time he was in between your legs and…
“…You want it, don’t you?” Gojo points out.
Suddenly too shy to speak, you carefully nod your head with a soft hum of agreement.
Gojo bites his lower lip and then scoffs eagerly. “So take it,” He tells you, slumping back against his seat again and rolling his hips up against you. “It’s allll yours. Every fuckin’ inch.”
With a frustrated little puff of air leaving your lips, you lean forward and connect your mouth with his—both of you groaning into one another. Searing against him, your hands start moving to undress him. “You’re annoying, y’know that?” You huff into his mouth.
Gojo only chuckles and his hands are working your clothes off just as well as you are for him. “Yet you still got on top of me, right?” He teases, kissing you back messily as you snag his shirt off and fling it elsewhere. “Still wanna fuck me,” Gojo snickers.
Your hands move down to the thick buckle of his pants and he’s pulling the knot of your top loose. “Yeah, to get you to shut up for a second.”
“Oh really?” His smirk widens, “Sure it’s not so I can prove that point of mine?” As he asks that, you’re tugging his belt off and tossing it while he’s taking his hands off of you for a second just to watch you undress him.
You have to hover over him again as you continue this semi-heated conversation with him. Whether or not the discussion is heated with sexual tension or aggravated tension, you’re unsure. “You never told me what that point was so, no.” You quip.
Gojo feels his breath catch in his throat when your fingers begin working his pants off. “Wanna prove I’m better.” He tells you hoarsely.
Once his slacks are tugged down his thighs, he’s helping you by kicking them off. Now he’s only clad in his boxers—how strange considering you’re still dressed. Kinda reminds him of the last time you two did something sexual except the roles were reversed. “Who’s to say you haven’t already?” You soon ask him as you lean back and begin to work your shorts off.
Gojo’s hands move like magnets with the way they find your hips again, assisting you in removing those teasing shorts of yours, “The way he looks at you.”
“I don’t understand,” You’re shuffling your legs around, working clothes off within the space of his car, and yet the conversation is still carried out seamlessly.
“He looks at you the same way I do but…” Gojo unintentionally flings your shorts elsewhere the very second they’re off of you and then he quickly maneuvers you back on top of him. “More fuckin’ smug. Can’t stand it.”
Teasingly, you chuckle. “Yeah?”
“Oh don’t tease me about this shit, I’m not joking,” He argues, taking a second to stare at the sexy black fabric of your panties. Gojo thinks he drools for a second but you can’t tell with the way the rest of his sentence comes flying out, “It pisses me the fuck off.”
“So, what,” You scoff. “Are you gonna take it out on me then?” Your voice leaves in a seductive whisper that prompts the man to look up at you, feeling your arms wrap around his neck again.
“Nahh, ‘course not,” Gojo whispers back.
Your brows meet, “Then what—“
“I’m gonna fuck it into you.” He cuts off, feeling you plop yourself back onto him fully. Both of you moan in unison given the two flimsy layers of fabric in between you.
“F-Fuck what into me?” You ask confusedly. Your eyes soften and Gojo’s fighting every cell in his body not to flip you over, pin you down, and fuck you til’ his balls run dry.
He’s losing it, truly.
“A kid if you keep lookin’ at me like that,” He says playfully.
Your eyes go all wide but your cunt throbs at the idea (?), “Satoru!”
“I’m joking,” He laughs. “But my name will be the only thing this pussy remembers in a few minutes…”
And that’s… Well, that’s not far off from the truth whatsoever.
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