tw: age gap (reader is early 20s, toji is early 40s)
mdni! 🔞
“such a good girl, baby. fuck..” toji murmured, his hands on your hips as you straddled his waist. “way too good for an old man like me…”
you’re currently naked in your boyfriends lap, your arms loosely wrapped around his neck as you took his length inside of you.
he’s so big, pulsing and making your walls burn in the best way possible. you’re whining, clenching tight around his dick as you slide up and sink back down.
he’s leaning back against the headboard, looking up at you with half lidded, lazy eyes.
you’re so close to him that you can see the grey hair in his stubble that he tries so hard to keep out of your sight. he doesn’t want you to see him aging like this while you stay young and lively and fun.
you’re growing more and more exhausted, but his big, calloused hands on your hips are helping to guide you up and down.
“mngh… t-toji.. m’tired.” you whine, your movements slowing. you both were on the cusp of your orgasms, but your thighs were aching and burning, and every time he pushed in fully, it practically knocked the wind out of you.
“i know, sweetheart.” he whispered lowly, his voice rough. one of his hands snaked up your spine, cradling the back of your head and pulling you down into a deep kiss. “keep going f’me. i know you can.” he whispered against your lips.
his hand that had been on your hip moved down to your ass, smacking it gently before squeezing at the soft flesh.
you yelped from the mixture of pain and pleasure, the feeling giving you enough energy to move your hips again with his guidance.
“too much…” you whine, but you continue to move at a steady pace, your head dropping to rest in his neck. the stubble on his jaw scratched against your temple as you moved.
“just like that baby.. you’re doing so good. just a little more.” he muttered, his voice becoming rougher as his orgasm grew closer.
you felt a warmth tingling in your lower stomach, making your toes curl. toji could practically sense that, his fingers moving down to slowly, yet firmly, play with your clit, making you jolt.
“m’gonna cum.. mmf- toji, k-keep doing that…” you whimpered, rocking your hips faster, pulling suppressed groans from his lips.
“cum for me, baby. you worked so hard my sweet girl.” his free hand gently held the back of your head, still buried in his neck.
his words tipped you over, and you came with a loud cry, squeezing impossibly tight around him.
he followed right after you (always making sure you finish first, of course), his sticky release filling you up.
the two of you just sat there for a few minutes, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your bare back, whispering to you about how good you were while you hid your face in his neck.
even though your boyfriend was getting older, and his stamina might not be what it used to be, all he could do was hope that you wouldn’t grow tired of him.
he knows someone like you, young, sweet, and gorgeous, could have anyone you’d like. he didn’t deserve you, and sometimes he questioned why you even loved him.
but moments like this, when he was holding you and making you feel good, toji fushiguro, a man who never felt deserving of anything, really felt like he could just be with someone for once.
||a/n: this got kinda sad at the end soz lol
anyway i’m replaying silent hill 2 rn and i just luv james so much poor baby
18+. sum 𓏲 you and fratkuna are the kind of couple who break up & make up every other week. but when you swear you’re done with him and go off to date his rival, the new football team captain, can his frat brothers help him get you back ?
‘sabotaging your ex girlfriend’s new relationship to get her back? this can’t be a good idea.’
ΣΧ
“‘high value woman’ but your new man’s a misogynist?!”
ryomen sukuna’s time of irritation is approximately 9:17 PM.
toru gojo’s bedroom floor is velvet carpet with half-empty beer bottles rotting on the rug. his center table is littered with poker cards & sato’s candy wrappers, and geto suguru & sato gojo are avoiding eye contact so they don’t burst out in laughter as sukuna glares daggers at toru’s screen.
toru’s hands shake under sukuna’s glare but he holds the phone steady. the instagram post on screen is a slap to sukuna’s face.
HOT NEW CAMPUS COUPLE : FOOTBALL CAPTAIN NAOYA ZENIN & Y/N L/N !
and the photo is you. swollen lips & pretty gaze & a dress so short it makes sukuna’s jaw ache—but not as much as naoya’s arm around you does. beside you toji’s cousin naoya zenin is there, grin cocky, eyes glinting in the camera light and arm around your waist because his fugly ass doesn’t know you like to be held around the hips instead. sukuna’s jaw ticks.
“i’m gonna get her back.”
sato, suguru and toru all glance towards each other. they know what that voice means. there’s no talking him out of it.
but toru lowers his phone, tries regardless. “are you sure? y/n’s always been strong headed. she might hate you even more if—“
sukuna grabs his crotch aggressively. “keep talking and i’ll jizz on your face.”
toru squeaks. sukuna continues. “i know my own girl. know she’s a fucking brat, doing this shit to get on my nerves,” he growls. “she’s bored. testing me. probably doing this shit to see if i’ll show up at practice ‘n break his jaw for touching her.”
suguru is biting back a grin. “calling her your girl when she broke up with you last week? and the week before that?”
sukuna takes a swig of his beer but his jaw is ticking behind the can. “exactly. she knows where home is.”
sato’s grin is clumsy. “i dunno, man. seems like she’s got a new address,” he elbows suguru’s side. “naoya’s pants, wellesley street east.”
“M-4-Y, 1-H-5,” suguru snickers.
“glad you two have the energy to joke,” sukuna sets down his beer with a thud. “means you’ll have energy to help me out tomorrow night.
tomorrow? tomorrow can only mean one thing.
naoya zenin’s one million snap score party. and also, the party that the college football team throws every year before the start of a new season. the party that sukuna hasn’t been to since he quit the role of captain. the party where sukuna first found you drunk & dizzy in an alley just out back, perfume strong & heels clicky, stumbling into his chest with a clumsy grin & flushed cheeks as he held your hips against him to keep you from falling. you reeked of vodka & you kept slurring his name & ryomen sukuna thought you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.
and now his pretty thing is somewhere curled into naoya’s side, and the thought makes sukuna’s throat itch.
suguru cocks his head. “so i’m guessing you have a plan?”
sukuna chugs his beer. “you know the plan.”
they do—they all do. sato is already grinning. suguru is shaking his head. toru is watching the fratboys with worried eyes.
sato, suguru and sukuna’s lips curl.
the plan?
sabotage.
# SHOW TIME !
at naoya zenin’s one million snapscore party, the air is heavy with the smell of drunken bodies / athlete sweat / something alcoholic dripping off a countertop. geto’s piercings glimmer in the evening dim. ryomen sukuna has his jaw tight. and sato gojo is already drunk and somewhere dancing, legworking with ease as rema’s azaman blares through the speakers.
sukuna and suguru are still scanning the scene when naoya saunters up to them.
naoya zenin is badly dyed hair, bright green eyes and a cocky lilt to his shoulders. he’s got the team’s varsity jacket around him—GO PANDAS!—and a grin too cruel to be kind. he raises his hands in faux welcome.
“suguru, sukuna,” naoya smiles. “didn’t think you’d make it.”
sukuna eyes him. “congratulations on your snapscore.”
“and my new position as captain,” naoya bites so hard his teeth show. “how’s retirement treating you, ryomen? enjoying life off the pitch?”
suguru slings an arm around sukuna, quick to come to his defence. “he’s doing great, thank you. how about you, captain? have you found confidence in your buck teeth?”
naoya’s smile dissolves.
“nice engagement bait,” naoya recovers. he’s grinning again but his lips only stretch, teeth hidden. “you always did bite like a bitch, suguru.”
“i try.”
“enjoy the booze,” naoya lets out a jagged breath, turning away. “try not to cry in your cups too much.”
sukuna has his arms crossed over his chest, suguru’s arm still slung around him. but he’s not watching naoya walk away. his eyes have drifted to you.
you across the party and perched on a seat at the bar, a glass of something pink in your hands and a dress so short he can trace the swell of your ass. and you’re laughing—oh god, you’re laughing, tucking hair behind your ear with flushed cheeks and a carefree smile. sukuna’s mouth dries. god, you’re so pretty. you’re always so pretty, and sukuna wants to tell you that; wants to curl up beside you and wipe away the red dribbling down your chin and maybe tug your dress down over your ass. you’d swat at him and tell him he’s ruining your outfit. and then you’d kiss him because you like when he gets territorial anyways.
you laugh again, and ryomen sukuna is already moving.
that is, until naoya curls up behind you.
sukuna stops in his tracks. naoya snakes an arm around your waist from behind—your waist again, not your hips, fucking idiot—and sukuna’s jaw goes slack. he watches naoya press his parched, un-vaselined lips to your shoulder blades, and he doesn’t miss the slight tense of your shoulders before you ease into his chest.
sukuna’s jaw ticks. “suguru.”
“hm?”
“get sato. it’s time.”
suguru grins. “yes, boss.”
suguru disappears into the crowd. sukuna’s eyes shift back to you, back to naoya, back to the way his hands slide up your side and the way he whispers something in your ear. you laugh again and sukuna’s jaw twitches, because the sound itself comes out strained.
you’re uncomfortable. and he’d be a fool to miss it.
suguru reappears with sato in tow.
sato is drunk. swaying. red-bruised lips & booze in his breath. his cheeks are flushed pink & his hair sweat-sticky and he’s slung over suguru’s back like his life depends on it. he nuzzles into suguru’s neck. “mmh—you called?”
sukuna’s eyes are still on you. he nods towards the bar, “you see naoya?”
sato squints. “so ugly,”
“he’s got his hands on my girl.”
sato frowns. “that won’t do.”
“yeah,” sukuna murmurs, lifting a cup of punch off a passing tray. suguru is wiping rum off sato’s lip. sukuna passes the cup to sato. “you remember the plan?”
sato gives a drunken nod. and then he’s off.
the plan is simple: red punch, ugly naoya, combination. sato gojo is supposed to be a ninja, an image of stealth and diligence. instead he’s a wobbly drunken mess, giggling boyishly as he stumbles towards the bar.
he’s so close, sukuna’s eyes narrow. just a few more steps and then naoya will be drenched—
but sato trips. and as he falls, he pulls naoya’s pants down with him.
the situation is a whole mess.
punch everywhere. sticky on naoya’s shocked face, on sato’s fallen figure, on the party’s hardwood floor. and everyone is watching—staring—at naoya zenin covered in punch, pants on the floor. those boxers—is that undertale?
naoya’s face is blood drenched. “you drunken fucking idiot—”
“m’sorry,” sato cries, face down, hands still gripping naoya’s pants. “was tryna—hic—spill the punch, hnghh—suguru—“
“get the fuck off me!” naoya kicks at him, pants rippling around his ankles. someone is pulling out their phone to record. another is already recording. everyone’s laughing, including you, and even ryomen sukuna is struggling to bite back the chuckle on his lips.
naoya scrambles out of the party, shuffling out in his sans undertale boxers with his pants around his feet. suguru has already made his way to sato’s side.
sato’s eyes are teary, and his forehead is bruised red from naoya’s kick. suguru cups his face, brows knit. “hey man. you alright?”
sato groans. “i spilled the punch and the pants.”
“mhm,” geto snorts, smushing sato’s cheeks between his palms. “good job, buddy.”
“i did good?”
“so good,” geto smiles down at him. “come on, up you go.”
suguru helps sato up to his feet. sukuna is already moving.
towards you, you at the bar with your palm over your mouth to muffle your laugh as you watch naoya flee into the night. sukuna steps into your space. your eyes are still on the door before you slowly, slowly, turn your head around to him.
your pupils are blown. cheeks flushed and chest heaving from the alcohol, and your eyes focus for a minute before you grin.
“aww, look,” you beam. “if it isn’t my ex-boyfriend.”
sukuna shouldn’t take advantage.
he knows if you were sober, it’d be a different story. he knows you’d kick and hit at him, maybe snarl about his audacity to show his face around you. but you’re too many drinks too deep and as drunk and dizzy as the day he met you in that alleyway, so instead of kicking at him you lean forward to cup his cheeks.
sukuna tilts his head to kiss your palm. “Hi, baby. you’re drunk.”
“noo,” you slur. “i’m tipsy.”
“mhm,” sukuna grunts, stepping forward to slide his arms around your hips before you can lean off the chair. he tugs your dress down over your ass, then strokes your thigh. “third glass?”
“so close!” you squeeze his neck happily. “i’m on my sixth.”
sukuna hugs you back. but his face is scowling.
naoya zenin—that fucking idiot. sukuna knows your limit is four. he knows that any more than that and you’ll be sick for days, groggy and weak and unable to get out of bed. he squeezes your hips. “s’too much, sweetheart.”
“i know,” you pout into his neck. “i couldn’t resist.”
oh, his poor girl. sukuna kisses your hair. just once—just because he missed the warmth of your skin—but then he does it again and again and you giggle into his chest. fuck. he’s missed the sound bad.
“i’m sorry.”
sukuna’s heart stops. “what?”
“for going past my limit.”
sukuna can feel you pouting in his neck. he sighs, because of course that’s what you meant. not that you were sorry for leaving him or whatever his delusions had him hearing in that moment. after all, he should be the one apologizing anyway. right?
“you’re okay,” he hugs you closer, pressing your head into his chest. god, you’re gonna be so sick tomorrow; and the day after, and the day after. “i’m not mad, pretty. don’t apologize.”
you nod against him. “are you gonna take care of me?”
sukuna wishes drunk you didn’t talk so much.
because it hurts to have to say no, no but i want to, no but i would if i knew you wouldn’t hate me for it when you’re sober, so he doesn’t say it at all. instead he traces circles on your hips. “gimme your phone.”
you rest your chin on his chest and beam up at him drunkenly instead.
sukuna lets out a sigh, shifting just enough to reach for your purse without jerking you off his chest. he slips your phone into his palm and tries for the passcode. it unlocks in one go. the passcode is still his birthday, and sukuna sighs again.
“i’m gonna call shoko,” he murmurs into your ear. “she’ll take care of you, yeah?”
he could take care of you too, you know. if you’d let him. but you wouldn’t, so he bites his lip.
“shoko?” you coo into his neck. “i love shoko.”
“i know,” sukuna squeezes your thigh. “i know you do.”
TORU’S REMARK: I HAVE A BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS…
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #2: GO BIG OR GO HOME !
taught by: geto suguru
“like the great oikawa tooru said, if you’re gonna hit it? hit it until it breaks.”
ΣΧ
ryomen sukuna is itch itch itching.
itching to know if you’re okay. itching to know if shoko—or, ugh, naoya—let you have those crackers you like to help you settle your stomach, kept your room slightly warm, and for christ’s sake, kept you away from the advil. you love to reach for them after a night of drinking. sukuna knows it only makes your headaches worse.
you haven’t posted on instagram in days.
not that he should know since you have him blocked. but luckily your account is public and sato’s allowed him to log in on his fake instagram hair page. SlayedBySato. hit them up on IG.
sukuna is lying on the couch, nose buried in a cushion. he watches your highlights with bleary eyes. in the one he’s viewing, you’re in a tight black dress, red and blue hues lighting up your face. you’re dancing the night away, cheeks flushed, lashes fluttering. his pretty party girl. god.
“look at my girl,” he mumbles into the pillow. “so fucking hot. i’ll slap the shit out of naoya zenin.”
geto laughs. “shouldn’t have let her get away, then.”
on the floor, sato has his head in suguru’s lap, pouting as geto presses an iced cloth to his forehead. he flinches. “sugu, how much longer?”
“shh,” geto hisses, even though the swelling went down ages ago.
sukuna rolls so his body lays upright, setting his phone down on his chest. “it’s not enough.” he glares at the ceiling. “that stunt with his boxers? did nothing but make a bunch of people laugh.”
suguru and sato look at each other. geto’s voice goes low.
“what are you saying?”
“i’m saying he’s a fraud and i want everyone to fucking know it.” sukuna sits up, tossing his phone unto the coffee table. “he’s still captain of the football team. but i have a video that could change that.”
“the season’s first game, naoya’s first official game as captain…” sato thinks. “are you saying you wanna pull something?”
“i’m thinking of playing it in the locker room TV. make the other boys lose respect for him.”
sato and suguru look at each other again.
“boring.” sato says.
“huh?”
“toru has access to the AV booth,” a slow grin curls its way onto suguru’s lips. “would be a fucking shame if he and i were to mess with the feed on game day.”
sato sits up from suguru’s lap. “locker room TV? boring as fuck, man. the sukuna i know? he’d play whatever video he has in front of the whole fucking stadium.”
sukuna looks at his frat brothers. at their wicked grins and stupid pride and willingness to follow him to the ends of the earth. it’s foolish, honestly. going to such lengths to destroy naoya zenin because he dared to look twice at his girl. but he’s a stupid man, and his frat brothers are even stupider, and this is what the sigma-chi brotherhood is really about.
sukuna’s lip twitches. “i fucking love you guys.”
“we know,” suguru says. “and don’t ever say that shit again.”
# GAME DAY !
LET’S GO PANDAS !
the chanting in the stadium sounds more like a roar.
the air is electric—buzzing, vibrating. cheerleaders on the sidelines with cheeks smeared in blue & red paint. there’s the scent of hot dogs & fried food grilling. a crowd in jerseys with flags in their hands. in the kaisen campus stadium, the midsummer air is thick with anticipation. it’s game day.
sukuna sucks the air into his lungs. he hasn’t been to the stadium in a minute.
sato has run off to get some hot dogs. suguru and toru should already be in the AV room. the pitch has no football players but marching band members instead, drums and trombones blaring music across the grass. sukuna should go over to his and sato’s seats. instead he’s on the stairs, staring down at you.
is it fair for you to look this happy with him away from you?
he shakes the thought away. he always wants you to be happy—he thinks. but happiness with naoya? naoya zenin? he’s not quite sure about that. actually, he is. sukuna knows he’s fucking furious. he knows he doesn’t like the fact that you have naoya’s number on your back, or the fact that you’re jumping and cheering his name when the players haven’t even walked out yet. his jaw ticks. something ugly curls in his throat. he swallows it away.
he stares a little longer. watches your skirt swish around your thighs, watches your arms wave in the air, watches your hips sway to the music. you’ve clearly recovered and your dancing is out of tune as always, and sukuna bites back a smile.
he’s still smiling when you look up at him.
his face falls.
your head lifts towards him, and he doesn’t miss the way your body tenses. your arms drop to your sides. your palms curl into fists.
uh oh.
you look away, pausing for a moment. and then you trudge between bodies and make your way over to what sukuna can only assume is the concession stand.
sukuna follows. he doesn’t give himself time to think any better of it.
——
caramel popcorn and half-burnt sugar. the concession stand smells like caramel popcorn and half-burnt sugar.
and vanilla, but not the syrupy sweet kind. it’s the kind that sukuna smells whenever he kisses that spot below your ear, or presses his lips to the dip of your waist. at the concession stand, sukuna stands behind you with his hands in his pockets, pretending he doesn’t see the frown on your face as you stand in line in front of him.
“go away.” you deadpan.
“i’m here to eat.”
“You will choke on your food and die.”
harsh.
sukuna’s used to it though. so when it’s your turn to get a donut, he slips out his wallet and drops some cash before you can even protest. the stand worker takes the excess money with a grin. you turn to sukuna with a frown.
“what are you doing?”
your tone is mean but ryomen sukuna can’t take you seriously. your hair has ribbons tangled throughout it. you look so fucking cute.
he looks you in the eyes. “let me check your temperature. feeling feverish? at all?”
you only eye him in response. “stop caring about me.”
“can’t,” he mutters. “let me check it.”
he pads closer, and you’re still glaring daggers at him, but you don’t bite his palm as it cups your face. he pats the back of his hand against your neck, then your forehead, then your chest—and then his palm’s on your cheek again.
“you had six drinks that night,” he murmurs, thumb stroking your cheek. “was so worried. don’t like when you go over your limit.”
“i’m fine,” your voice is sharp—or trying to be. “don’t touch me.”
he shifts his hand into his pocket. “okay.” he says. “i’m gonna get you back.”
that sets you off. “i’m done with you, asshole!” you stab your finger into his chest. “i’m serious—no more on and off bullshit. i’ve moved on. i’m with naoya, for fuck’s sake. you just can’t accept that cuz of your stupid little ego!”
you’re still stabbing his chest. sukuna only watches you patiently, letting you yell to your heart’s content.
“and i hate you!” you tug his collar just to shove him away again. “i’m moving on. i’m happy now. so don’t try to act like you’re still my boyfriend!”
“sorry,” he trails off. he’s still watching you poke him with half-lidded eyes.
“i like your ribbons,” he murmurs. “you look pretty.”
“ugh!”
you storm off, and sukuna bites his cheek as your ribbons swing behind you. his hand finds the spot where you hit his chest and he sighs.
ryomen sukuna needs to get you back. and the sooner he does? the better.
———-
sato gojo has five bomboclat hotdogs in his lap.
how humongous! and worst of all, he refuses to share them with sukuna, who left his own food at the concession stand while his mind fixated on your face. you looked so pretty yelling at him. fuck. has he gone mad?
he shakes the thought away. he has his phone in his hands, facetime call with suguru on screen. toru gojo is setting up a monitor in the background with shaky hands. suguru has his phone at a poor angle and he’s humming into its mic with glee.
sato hooks his mustard-sticky chin over sukuna’s shoulder. “yo, sugu.” he says to the call.
“yo,”
“i have five hotdogs,” sato says humbly. “i’m saving a quarter for you.”
“love your generosity.”
“thank you, brother.”
sukuna shoves sato’s face away, ignoring the pout on his face as he rubs his still-bruised forehead. “suguru. how’s the prep going?”
“we’re all good here,” suguru says, turning the call camera to face toru and the set-up. “toru, you’re on video. say hi.”
“uh—hi!”
“hey, twin!” sato’s chin is back on sukuna’s shoulder. he frowns. “i didn’t save you any hotdogs.”
“that’s okay,” toru pushes up his glasses. “i don’t like hotdogs much anyways.”
suguru laughs behind the camera. “aww. i’ll get you a hotdog, buddy.”
“guys, focus.” sukuna pinches his nose. “the footage. is it ready?”
“yup,” suguru pops the p. just waiting for your signal.”
down on the pitch, the teams are lively.
the stadium is roaring. confetti everywhere, cheers and screams from fangirls and fanboys alike. the campus team jogs out in high spirits. and naoya zenin is there, golden boy of the season, arms in the air and waving like he’s the best thing since sliced bread. sukuna tries not to roll his eyes.
it’s a new season, and this one begins with a speech.
and who else to deliver it but the new captain, naoya? he has his helmet in his arm, grin wide, eyes gleaming. he stands on the podium with a mic to his mouth, and then he clears his throat.
his voice bellows. “GO PANDAS!”
the crowd roars. “go pandas!” sato cheers along. sukuna smacks his head.
“it is my honor, as the new captain of the football team, to welcome you all to the new season. kaisen university has suffered many losses. but this year, under my lead, i swear to you all—victory!”
the crowd roars again. sato is smart enough to not get caught up in the high spirits this time.
naoya raises a hand to calm the crowd. “but first off, i want to say a thank you to our alumni, sponsors, team—“
suguru turns the phone camera to himself, grinning. “i think this is the time?”
“your thinking is correct.”
“hit it, toru.”
toru fumbles with the control panel. he plugs in a mic, and suguru brings his mouth to the head.
“hey naoya,”
suguru’s voice crackles through the stadium speakers. the crowd stills. the football team on the grass is frozen in confusion.
“the alumni, sponsors, team you’re talking about,” you can hear the smile in suguru’s voice. “is it these ones?”
toru hits a button.
the big screen flickers.
the static shifts to a video. it’s one of those out of focus, wobbly snapchat ones, captioned ‘this guy’ with a bunch of laughing emojis. someone says something in the background. naoya scoffs.
“alumni? sponsors? they’re all a bunch of old has-beens with heart conditions,” he spits. “lousy fuckers with too much money. yet they can’t even buy us a trophy. idiots.”
but the video doesn’t end there. naoya is talking while he changes out of his uniform, focused on the locker in front of him. “and this shitty team,“ he bites. “dumb fuckers who would need help to wipe their asses. can’t follow instructions for shit. i see why sukuna fucking left.”
the video ends. all that’s left is the grey replay button on the screen. suguru shifts back away from the mic, holding his phone to his face. “holy shit,” he says into the facetime call. “we fucking did that.”
“yeah,” sukuna says. “we did.”
but he’s distracted. naoya is arguing with someone on field but sukuna doesn’t care to see what that’s about. instead his eyes are on you down near the pitch, your hands gripping the stands. he can’t tell if you’re confused, distraught, happy, sad. it’s fucking killing him. he needs to see your face.
sato climbs unto his chair. he cups his hands around his mouth. “GET HIM OFF THE FIELD!”
sukuna’s eyes widen in alarm, but others are already joining in. OFF-THE-FIELD! OFF-THE-FIELD! GET NA-O-YA OFF-THE-FIELD!”
on the pitch, naoya’s face flushes in embarrassment. “you sorry sacks of shit! do you fucking know who i am?!”
they’ll never know, because he never has the chance to tell. security guards are escorting him away before he even knows it.
sukuna’s eyes flit down the bleachers. back down to you. he finds you hopping at your seat, ribbons swishing as you chant along with the crowd.
OFF-THE-FIELD! OFF-THE-FIELD!
sukuna’s lip twitches. get him off the field.
———
“OFF-THE-FIELD! OFF-THE-FIELD!”
the chanting of the stadium is still buzzing in sukuna’s ears.
toru gojo left early, body aching with anxiety and in dire need of a nap. sukuna’s decided it’s about time to leave too—college football games aren’t really his thing anymore.
suguru and sato are geeking out over the whole thing behind him as sukuna trudges forward with his hands in his pockets. he’s half-smiling. he still can’t believe the whole scene had you chanting along and hopping eagerly in your seat. so cute. your ribbons were bouncing everywhere. so fucking cute.
“this is all your fault!”
sukuna knows that voice anywhere.
sato and suguru know it too. the smiles quickly leave their faces, brows knitting in alarm. the three quietly speed up towards the corridor, and the scene has sukuna seeing red.
“you dumb fucking whore,” naoya has you cornered against the wall. “all this shit because of you and your crazy, batshit boyfriend. ‘deal’ my fucking asshole. you see how they embarrassed me? because of you?”
sukuna’s already moving. but geto pulls him back. “listen.”
“you can’t pin this on me,” you try to keep your voice steady, but sukuna knows how your voice gets when you’re about to snap. naoya’s face is too close to yours for his liking. “you’re the one who said all that stupid shit. take some fucking responsibility.”
“responsibility?” naoya’s teeth curl. his breath is hot against your lip. “deal my fucking ass. this was your plan all along wasn’t it, stupid bitch? date me and get closer to me so you can sabotage me along with your boyfriend—”
“naoya,” your voice is dangerous. “i’m warning you, get back.”
“or what?” he spits in your face. “you’ll call your big bad boyfriend to save you? run to him like some stupid little whore—?”
you slap naoya silly.
and for a moment, sukuna’s shoulders un-tense. he’s been holding his breath the entire time, fingers curled into the wall, suguru’s hand on his chest stopping him from charging forward. but fuck, he’s proud. that’s his fucking girl. fuck. why’d he have to go and lose you?
but he can’t relax for long.
“you fucking bitch!”
naoya shoves you against the wall and you thud against it. sukuna doesn’t have to pry geto’s hand away—they’re already charging in.
naoya’s eyes widen as soon as he sees the trio. suguru swings. sato punches. but naoya dodges both, shoulder bumping into them as he slips between the two. he should be stopped by sukuna—but sukuna charges straight to your side, tugging you to his chest, breath heaving. naoya zenin escapes.
suguru and sato’s eyes flit towards the exit. their breathing is sharp, ragged. their eyes drift back to you in alarm. fuck. you’re more important.
sukuna hugs you to his chest, tight. his hand presses your head under his chin. he wants to pretend you’re not fucking shaking in his arms, but god you are, god—you are.
“you’re okay, baby,” he lies. your hand is fisting his collar like you want to pull him closer—or maybe push him away. “you’re okay. i’ve got you, you’re okay.”
you squeeze his collar. “ryo,” your voice is small, “don’t go after him.”
“i won’t baby, swear to god i won’t.”
but that’s just another lie. he presses your head further into his chest, palm heavy on your head. and then he mouths to suguru and sato:
GO. FUCKING. KILL HIM.
they don’t need to be told twice.
“ryo,” you whisper in his chest. “where are they going?”
“they’re giving us privacy,” he lies, and you’ll hate him for it tomorrow but he’ll settle for holding you today. he kisses your head. “are you hurt? hit your head? look at me.”
he can feel your lips jut out in his chest. “i’m fine.”
“i told you to look at me.”
you grumble, but oblige regardless. and god, sukuna’s heart aches. you have your chin on his chest, lashes tear rimmed, cheeks flushed and lips jut out in a stubborn pout. your eyes are glistening with wet. sukuna’s jaw aches.
naoya zenin has got to go to hell.
and he’ll send him there personally. he kisses your forehead, “gorgeous.” and then his thumbs wipe your lashes. “i’m gonna check if you’re concussed. do you have a headache?”
“this is so stupid,” you grumble. “i’m not concussed. and you know it.”
sukuna ignores you, cups your face in his palms. “what day of the week is it?”
“monday.” you grumble.
“gonna say some numbers, say them back to me in reverse,” he strokes your cheek. “four-two-four-two-five-six-four.”
you say them back perfectly. sukuna kisses your forehead. “good job baby,” he murmurs. “smart girl. does anything hurt?”
“no.”
“don’t lie to me.”
you rest the side of your face on his chest, pausing for a moment. then you raise a hand to grip his bicep. “my head hurts. just a little.”
“anything else?”
“i was scared,” you mutter, small. “i was so scared, ryo.”
naoya zenin has got to go to hell.
it’s the second time sukuna thinks that, but he shakes the thought away. he squeezes your hips. tilts your chin so you’re looking up at his face. your lashes are wet & your lips are wobbly & ryomen sukuna thinks you are grace.
“shh,” his thumb rubs your bottom lip. “you’re safe. you’re always safe with me.”
“i know,” your voice croaks as you nod.
“fuck, baby,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss your eyelids, nose, cheek, forehead. he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth. and then he finds your lips, tongue licking your mouth before he kisses you deep and slow.
“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs between your lips. “m’gonna kill naoya.”
“noo,” you whine, tugging his collar. “i told you not to do that.”
sukuna kisses his teeth, stepping back so he can hoist you up into his arms. his hands dip beneath your thighs to haul you up, and now you’re peering down at him through those sad, wet lashes. he kisses the pout off your lips. squeezes your thighs with his big hands. opens his mouth to say—
“i knocked that sucker out the park!”
sato and geto saunter back into the corridor, grins wicked, steps light. their knuckles are bloody and their jaws are bruised and their smiles are so bright they’re practically gleaming.
you turn to look at them. sukuna grabs the back of your head and pushes you into his shoulder. you pout into his neck as he keeps his palm heavy on your head.
sato is shadowboxing. “right hook—left hook—“ he punches the air. “clean hit to the jaw. taught the bloody wanker a good fucking lesson.” he fakes a british accent.
suguru nods, hands in his pockets & smile smug. “it was a good punch.”
“right?!”
sukuna’s lip tugs. he clicks his tongue as sato fakes punches at suguru, suguru dodging them with lazy laughter. sukuna clears his throat. sato and suguru perk up.
“take her to the nurse,” his voice is low. “make sure she doesn’t have a concussion.”
suguru steps forward and sukuna gently moves you into his arms. you frown up at suguru. “i’m not concussed.”
geto only chuckles, shifting your thigh over his arm to lift you better. “i don’t think so either. but your boyfriend runs a strict program, doesn’t he?”
“ex-boyfriend,” you bite. “and he’s not stricter than me.”
“never,” suguru smiles. “you’re the strictest.”
sukuna scoffs behind you. sato just says he likes your ribbons.
he watches the boys leave with you. sato bouncing beside geto, you still arguing in suguru’s arms. but then he thinks about naoya. thinks about how he called his girl a whore, how he had the guts to shove you against a wall instead of just taking your slap like a fucking man. his jaw locks.
his feet are already moving. but then he remembers. don’t go after him.
he’s already broken that promise, already sent sato and suguru to beat him bloody. and he trusts his frat brothers, trusts they didn’t go easy on him. but his knuckles ache. he wants to beat naoya down so fucking badly.
but he knows if he sees naoya now, it will only end in death. and sukuna won’t be the one in the deathbed.
sukuna slams his fist into the wall. “fuck!”
SUGURU’S REMARK: CHILLL. WE CONTROLLED THAT
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #3: ON THE OFFENSE !
taught by: toji zenin
‘want your girl back? then get fucking serious. stop playing her damn games and show her who’s the man.’
ΣΧ
“i have to kill naoya zenin.”
on toji zenin’s bedroom floor, ryomen sukuna’s jaw is tight. his hands dig into his thighs and suguru sits beside him with worried eyes. toji zenin is on the edge of his bed, running a brush through a jet black lace front wig. his son, five-and-a-half year old megumi zenin, sits beside him with a beach blond color 613 bone-straight wig on his head.
megumi tugs his father’s sleeve, voice flat.
“daddy, i have a buss down.”
toji doesn’t look up from his mannequin. “looks great, kiddo.”
toji zenin is twenty-four, stubble on his chin and single-ish student dad. single-ish because megumi’s mother left him when he turned twenty-one, but now he’s engaged to a pretty rich lady who sukuna still can’t believe forgave him for his lies. whatever—that’s a story for another day. even though toji’s girl is rich, he still insists on picking up odd jobs here and there to support him and meg rather than relying on her money. he’s currently working as a wig influencer for ISEEHAIR®.
on sukuna’s right, suguru has his hair in twin braids—courtesy of megumi zenin—and the same kind of ribbons you wore on game day—courtesy of SlayedBySato. he pats sukuna’s shoulder. “hey man, it’s okay. she’s okay.”
“you don’t fucking know that,” sukuna spits. “you don’t know it that bastard is still around her. i should’ve fucking killed him. slammed his skull into the wall back in the stadium.”
megumi blinks, gaze flat. he tugs his father’s sleeve. “daddy, is uncle kuna okay?”
“he’s in love,” toji answers, reaching for the hot comb. “makes you stupid.”
megumi nods, blond wisps of hair sticking to his cheek. then he stares at uncle sukuna for a bit longer before sliding his chubby body off the bed. “i’m gonna lay my edges.”
megumi zenin pads away.
suguru smiles after him. but then his smile dissolves, and he shifts his gaze back to sukuna. sukuna’s jaw is still tight, eyes glaring daggers at toji’s bedroom floor, and suguru elbows his side. “relax, man. brooding’s not gonna fix anything.”
“suguru’s right,” toji grumbles. “sato and suguru already beat him down. that didn’t make you feel better, did it?”
sukuna squints.
“you want your girl back? stop playing her damn games,” toji continues. “show her she can’t just keep playing around. you’ve embarrassed naoya, sabotaged him. all you’ve done is play along with her bratty lil’ antics.”
megumi’s voice comes from the other room. “daddy, can you help me lay my edges?”
“in a minute, kid.” toji doesn’t look up from the mannequin. “you want your girl? beat her at her own fucking game.”
sukuna grits his teeth. suguru slings an arm around him, braids swinging. “there’s a party for the football team tonight,” he says. “pretty sure y/n will be there again.”
sukuna swallows. thinks about it. and then the door swings open.
in comes sato gojo with megumi zenin in his arms. the five year old has wig edges laid, hair on fleek, and there is no doubt he’s been SlayedBySato.
sato’s grin is clumsy.
“did someone say party?”
# SHOW TIME !
at the party, the bass is so loud the speakers are moving.
not a lot—just a little—but the sound is so loud that sato is pouting as suguru helps him cover his ears. geto yells at some footballer to turn the music down. it takes them too long to comply.
sukuna is on a couch trying to ignore the babe curling herself into his side.
pamela? no—pairin. hair dyed mauve & flushed pink cheeks & a pretty nice rack—not that sukuna is looking. well he did look, he’s just a man and she’s got some pretty nice tits, but it’s okay. he still thinks yours are perkier.
pairin is trailing a hand up his thigh.
“ryo,” she coos. “it’s been forever. i’ve missed you.”
it has been forever. ryomen sukuna hasn’t slept with pairin, or any other girl for that matter, since he started dating you. yes you’ve broken up and gotten back together a hundred times, and technically when you’re broken up he’s a free man, but sukuna knows if he dared to touch another woman even when you’re not with him he’d never hear the end of it. so he’s always been patient. always waited.
which is why it’s not fucking fair for you to let naoya curl up behind you right now.
his eyes narrow. ryomen sukuna watches as naoya slips behind you at the bar, arm around your waist once again. fucking idiot. sukuna doesn’t even care about his arm on your waist instead of your hips anymore. once he gets his hands on naoya, he won’t even have an arm to begin with.
but sukuna doesn’t understand it.
he knows his girl. he knows you. he knows you bark more than you bite, he knows you’re bratty and stubborn and selfish and petty, and he knows men like naoya zenin are not your fucking type. he knows you would never put up with a man who would even yell at you—he found that out the hard way. so how could you let naoya touch you so casually after he dared to disrespect you?
are you really moving on?
he’s heard about it before. boundaries crumbling when people fall in love. is that what’s happening here? is naoya manipulating you? are you being pressured? can he kill him?
or do you actually—god forbid—like naoya?
sukuna scoffs. fucking hell if you do. he’ll kill naoya so you have no one to love. he’ll be damned if the man who steals your heart after him is one that doesn’t even know how to hold you right. naoya zenin will die today. ryomen sukuna will make sure of it.
“ryo,” pairin coos. when did her tits press against his chest?
she’s shifted so much that she’s practically on top of him, thigh digging into his hip. sukuna kisses his teeth. “don’t fucking call me that.”
pairin pouts, sliding a hand down his chest. “so mean. ever since you started dating that girl, you’ve become so mean to me.”
sukuna hears a laugh. it’s you, laughing at something the bartender says. another poor man who will be joining sukuna’s kill list. or maybe not, since you seem happy. you take a sip of your drink and frown when a drop lands on your chest. so cute.
pairin lifts a hand to shift his jaw back to her face. “you’re smiling.”
“yeah,” his voice is bored. “not at you.”
she frowns. “you used to be fun.”
“i used to be single.”
he still is right now, but not for long. never for long. he watches as you take another cup from the bartender. that’s drink number three. behind you naoya presses his face into your neck, and sukuna watches as you ease into him.
ryomen sukuna is blinded by rage.
he’s not quite thinking when he does it. he’s not quite thinking when he grabs pairin by the back of her neck, shoving her lips onto his. she squeaks, “mmph—!” as sukuna presses his lips against her. she tries to sneak her tongue past his lips. he keeps his mouth shut.
sukuna sees it.
he keeps his eyes open the whole time, and across the bar he watches your face lift. you’re laughing, you always are, but then your gaze drifts across the room to him.
the drink in your hand nearly drops.
you do that little thing where your chest heaves—anxious?—and your fingers curl tight around the cup in your hands. your brows furrow like you’re glaring but your lips are wobbly, oh god, they’re so wobbly—
he pushes pairin off his lap.
but it’s too late. you’re already off your chair, scrambling, and sukuna can’t see that well from this far but he knows your eyes are wet. he saw that tear slip down your cheek. he bolts for the exit but someone pulls him back by the shoulder—
“sukuna?” sato’s brows are knit. “what the fuck? what’s wrong man?”
sukuna’s chest is still heaving. his eyes are still on the door.
ryomen sukuna has lost the girl once again.
TOJI’S REMARK: NOT THAT KIND OF OFFENSE, IDIOT.
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #4: SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE !
taught by: sato gojo
“girls like y/n? they like to keep things difficult. and your prefer it just like that, don’t you?”
ΣΧ
ryomen sukuna hasn’t left his room in days.
two weeks. it’s been two weeks since he kissed another girl and watched you leave with tears in your eyes. and sukuna’s disgusted. stomach against the mattress and head buried in a pillow. you’re pretty when you cry—you’re always pretty—but not so much when he’s the cause of your tears.
SlayedBySato is officially blocked by you on instagram. sato’s tried to come in to cheer sukuna up, but to no avail. sukuna won’t eat anything suguru cooks, or any food at all for that matter. megumi sometimes opens his door and stares at him with bored eyes before leaving. toru comes into his room to sit on the floor and read. he’s always shaky & anxious and glancing up at sukuna every five seconds when he does that, but he still comes in to offer his company anyways.
sukuna’s scrolling through his phone, eyes watching nothing in particular. he gets a notification. probably suguru offering him food. maybe just team snapchat. he ignores it. but then his phone chimes again.
[ mine🫀: OBLIGATIONS.docx ]
sukuna’s brows knit. you have him blocked. that can’t be you.
but he clicks the message anyways. and it is you, and the first thing that greets him is your profile picture. you’re smiling big into the camera, angle low & silly, and somehow you still manage to look bright and beautiful. sukuna swallows. scrolls down to your new messages.
mine🫀: i know what you did at that party was just to get my attention.
mine🫀: since u wanna be pathetic i’ll give you more opportunity to do so
mine🫀: OBLIGATIONS.docx
sukuna clicks the document. there are no greetings, no ‘to whom may be concerned’, no date or titles. just three things.
WRITE ME A LETTER OF APOLOGY. HANDWRITTEN.
CLEAR OUT EVERY ITEM IN MY SHOPPING CART. USERNAME: y/nthebaddest PASSWORD: d1cknballs11037
APOLOGIZE TO ME AND ADMIT TO YOUR PLANS OF SABOTAGE IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE CAMPUS, JUST LIKE IN YOUR STUNT ON GAME DAY.
his phone chimes again.
mine🫀: you have one week. if you want me back you’ll complete everything on this list. if u dc just ignore it.
mine🫀: bye sukuna.
sukuna stares at the list. studies every word. contemplates each task.
and then he laughs.
yeah. that’s his fucking girlfriend.
# SHOW TIME
sukuna trudges into the frathouse living room with his laptop under his arm. at the center table sato is already there, humming contentedly while playing a game of monopoly by himself. he perks up when he hears the sound of the door.
“well, well,” sato sings. “look who crawled out of my grandfather’s ass.”
“what does that even mean?”
“ignore him,” suguru hums. he steps out from the kitchen with a plate of steaming hot jollof rice in his hands. he scoops some with his spoon, blows on it, and offers a bite to sukuna. “here, try some.”
“mm,” sukuna murmurs, leaning down for a bite. it’s hot, chewy—but then sukuna frowns.
“there’s no maggi in this rice.”
geto’s face falls. “no more food for you.”
whatever. sukuna sits at the center table, setting up his laptop right over sato’s monopoly game. he ignores sato’s protests as he opens up your shopping cart. “she sent me a list.” he announces. “of stuff i have to do if i want her back.”
suguru slides in at the opposite side of the table, brows raised. “show us.”
WRITE ME A LETTER OF APOLOGY. HANDWRITTEN.
CLEAR OUT EVERY ITEM IN MY SHOPPING CART. USERNAME: y/nthebaddest PASSWORD: d1cknballs11037
APOLOGIZE TO ME AND ADMIT TO YOUR PLANS OF SABOTAGE IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE CAMPUS, JUST LIKE IN YOUR STUNT ON GAME DAY.
sato blinks at the screen. “dick n’ balls,” he smiles wide. “i love your girlfriend.”
“tread lightly.”
suguru squints at the last item. “this is bad. she’s saying she wants you to confess in front of the whole school? like on game day?” his eyes lift to sukuna. “the dean might actually suspend you if we pull something. you know how much trouble i got in when they heard my voice on the speakers?”
“i had to pay him out of trouble,” sato shudders. “and it wasn’t cheap.”
sukuna frowns. if sato’s complaining? it definitely wasn’t cheap.
but sukuna only opens up your cart, taking in the items on screen. he’s not surprised when he scrolls through the items. lingerie from bordelle & agent provocateur, bags from dior and bottega vennetta, shoes, makeup—the high end kind—and then a bunch of sex toys, also unnecessarily overpriced. his lips tug when he notices a pair of lacy black panties. he already knows that’s for him.
or it could be for naoya to fuck you in, so his face falls.
sato slumps against sukuna’s shoulder. “wow. pricey stuff.”
“she likes nice things,” he mutters, double checking the items. he makes sure everything is in CAD and not USD, and then he checks out. nearly $5000 on clothing, accessories, lingerie. CIBC sends him a notification for possible fraud on his card immediately. he clicks no, this was me.
suguru whistles. “well, that’s that.” he leans back on his palms. “on to task number two?”
——
sukuna taps his pencil against the paper in front of him. “how do i spell exquisite.”
“e-s-q, u-z-t,” sato answers proudly. “all you have to do is sound out the vowels. i learned that trick back in freshman year.”
“there are no vowels in what you just spelled.”
suguru drags a palm over his face. he watches as sato strokes his chin, both he and sukuna staring at the half-empty letter with intense focus. he’s not sure whether to start with explaining to sato that this is not the spelling of exquisite, or if he should let sukuna know that ‘e’ and ‘u’ are indeed vowels.
he chooses to do neither. “sukuna, what do you need the word ‘exquisite’ for?”
“i need to tell her her ass is exquisite.”
“in her apology letter?”
“Yes.”
oh, okay. actually no—it’s not okay. suguru pinches his nose. “this is an apology letter. what does her ass have to do with this?!”
“she likes when i say nice things about her body,” sukuna mumbles, low. geto softens. that’s actually sweet.
“i’m gonna tell her i like her nipples.”
suguru snatches the letter from his hands.
he makes the mistake of letting his eyes drop to the poorly written text, and he’s reading it in his head before he can think any better of it: Hello, I am sorry. Your ass is esquizit. Come back to me. Nipples.
“jesus fucking christ,” suguru breathes.
sukuna scowls at him. “you didn’t let me finish the last sentence.”
sato hugs his knees. “i like this letter.”
suguru ignores them. he puts the letter aside, and tears out a new sheet of paper from the notepad on the table. “look, ryomen. i know you’re not good with words. and i know y/n it’s important to you. so we’re gonna help you.”
sato leans back on his palms. “yup, we are.”
“i meant i’m gonna help him,” suguru glares at sato. “tell me what’s on your mind. what you think. what you feel in your chest when you think about her. if she looked you in the eye and told you she was upset about all you’ve done, what would you say to her?”
sukuna scowls at nothing in particular, pondering. “i’d kiss her.”
“that’s what you would do,” suguru wags his pencil. “what would you say?”
sukuna thinks a bit harder. he thinks about how you look when you’re sad, how you don’t laugh, how your bottom lip juts out in that wobbly pout that makes his stomach hurt. he thinks about how you’d cuss at him before the tears fall, and then you’d grip his collar while spitting teary insults, before collapsing in his chest and letting him kiss your cheek till you quiet down. sukuna thinks very hard.
“i’d tell her i’m sorry,” he says. “and that i hate it when she cries.”
suguru nods. “go on,”
“i’d tell her i was scared,” he murmurs. “of her moving on. of her finding someone better.” he breathes. “i don’t want her to be with anyone that’s not me.”
suguru and sato stay silent.
“i don’t even care about naoya,” sukuna’s voice is tired. his palm slides over his face. “i just want her to be with me.”
“aww,” sato coos.
“shut up.”
but sukuna doesn’t shove sato away when he leans over to hug his head. sato pats sukuna’s face into his chest. “suguru,” sukuna mutters. “can you say that i miss her?”
“already did.”
suguru turns the paper around to reveal the words. sukuna squints to make out the words behind the pretty cursive.
dear y/n,
i know i've said sorry a thousand times. i know it doesn't mean much coming from me. but i mean it. i'm sorry for the party. i'm sorry for kissing someone else. i'm sorry for making you cry. i hate it when you cry, hate when i make you sad. i hate it when you look at me like you don't trust me anymore.
i was scared. scared you were moving on. scared you were finding someone better. i was scared i was losing you for good.
i don't care about naoya. i don't care about other women. i don't care about any of it. i just want you.
i want to earn you back. i want to earn your trust. i want to be the person you deserve.
i love you. i've never loved anyone else like you. i don't want to love anyone else. please give me a chance to prove it.
— sukuna
sukuna blinks at the letter. “i sound pathetic.”
“you are pathetic,” suguru sets it down. “for y/n at least.”
he is, isn’t he?
suguru taps his pencil against the table. “so, do you like it? or shall we draft a new one?”
sukuna thinks about it. sato is still patting his head.
“nah,” he says. “it’s perfect.”
SATO’S REMARK: OH WE’RE SO GETTING HER BACK
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #5: HAVE YOU EVER APOLOGIZED WITH YOUR LIFE ON THE LINE ?!
taught by: nanami kento
“this is the stupidest plan i’ve ever heard.”
ΣΧ
the letter is done. the shopping cart is cleared. but the boys of sigma chi can’t rest just yet.
they do so anyway. suguru is sprawled lazily on the couch, legs spread and popcorn bucket in his hands. sato has his cheek on geto’s chest, curled up beside him. and even sukuna is leaning into the warmth, legs crossed on the floor and his head against suguru’s leg. the tv is playing something none of them truly care about.
suguru takes a bite of popcorn, teeth sticky. “how the fuck are we gonna pull off the last task?”
sato tosses a kernel into sukuna’s open mouth. “i have no idea.”
suguru pops another kernel between his lips, and then feeds a bite through sato’s open mouth on his chest. “before we even get to that—i’ve been thinking. what about that deal naoya mentioned? back in the stadium?”
sato and sukuna perk up.
sukuna’s jaw ticks again. he’s tried not to think about it. tried not to think about how naoya dared to raise his voice at you, how he dared to shove you back in his anger. he licks his canines. his chest is hot.
“i’ve been thinking about it too,” sato says. “ i have a theory.”
“uh oh.”
“don’t be mean,” sato pouts, and suguru pulls his cheek lovingly. he leans off suguru’s chest, palms still on his shoulders for balance. “my theory? y/n wants to make sukuna jealous. naoya wants him jealous too. boom. they work together and date.”
suguru nods. “but now, naoya thinks y/n is dating him so she and sukuna can work together to trash his reputation,” he muses. “and so he’s treating her badly.”
sukuna’s nails dig into his palms.
he knew you wanted him jealous—that’s obvious. but the thought of his stupid antics putting you in danger? with naoya? fuck. you’re a sharp girl. but you’re all bark and no bite. what the fuck is he supposed to do if naoya even thinks of disrespecting you again?
he speaks up. “back at the party. the one we went to after the game,” he bites his cheek. “i saw her with him again. that’s why i got mad. kissed that pamela bitch.”
“pairin.”
“i don’t give a fuck.” sukuna grumbles. “but that’s not what tripped me up. she was with naoya again—even after how he treated her.” his fingers dig into the couch. “she drags me by the ear when i raise my voice just slightly. why would she stay by naoya after all that? just to make me jealous?”
geto thinks out loud. “what if he has something on her?”
the boys go quiet.
for you to stay with someone like naoya, genuine or not? sukuna knows it must be something serious. he leans off the couch, turns to his boys.
“we need to start planning that final task.”
# SHOW TIME !
“kenny,” suguru begs. “please. we need your help.”
nanami pushes up his glasses. “immediately no.”
the theatre hall is humongous.
thousands of students fitted into velvet seats. there’s some ceremony today—what it’s about, sukuna doesn’t know—but he knows it’s the only opportunity he has to fulfill your last task. the next gameday is a week away, past the one week timeframe you specified.
sukuna also knows you’re in the crowd. he’d seen you sitting close to the front. right next to naoya.
god, you looked gorgeous. low cut top that exposes your plush breasts because you have no sense of time and place. skirt short as always, bunched up around your thighs, and lashes fluttering. bored. you looked hopelessly bored and beautiful next to naoya, and it wasn’t till shoko slipped into the seat beside you that your glossy lips smiled again. fuck. sukuna hopes he’ll get to speak to you soon.
but right now, he and the boys are trying to convince nanami to let him show up on stage in place of presenting his speech.
they’re all backstage. sigma chi treasurer nanami kento is sat at a makeshift desk, tie pin straight, expression flat as usual. “i will not allow you to take over my speech in the name of love and sacrifice. this is the stupidest plan i’ve ever heard.”
“nanaken, you’re not listening,” sato shakes his shoulders. “this is a matter of life and death—our last chance to help sukuna get his girl back.” sato pleads. “if we don’t succeed, he’ll be depressed!”
“i won’t be depressed.”
“he’ll be depressed!”
nanami only pinches his nose.
“look,” suguru starts, leaning over the table with his palms. “let’s make a deal. you let us crash your speech? sato buys you all the BL manhwa you want.”
nanami perks up. “BL?”
sato frowns. “sato?”
“exactly,” suguru says. “i know you’re tired of reading semantic error on a screen. we’ll get you all the physical copies—and whatever other BL you have on your reading list. all you have to do is let us crash your set.”
nanami thinks about it. thinks about how nice it’d be to see jang jaeyoung on a page, how he’d be able to have the story right there between his fingertips. he thinks about it. ponders hard.
and then he nods. “you’ve got yourselves a deal.”
——
each speech passes by way too fast.
well honestly, not fast enough. the audience is snoozing. they forget to clap after some speeches, and in the crowd sukuna can see you watching, bored. you have your head against shoko’s shoulder, phone in your hands. a man in a suit walks up to the stage to remind the audience of ‘etiquette’ and ‘keeping their phones away’. you roll your eyes and take a selfie with shoko, lips puckered out.
god, he misses you.
he closes the backstage curtains. suguru is waving his speech around. “you’re up next, man. you ready?”
sukuna swallows. why the fuck does he feel anxious? sukuna doesn’t do anxious. angry? horny? yes. but anxious?
he swipes the speech from suguru’s hands. “yeah. m’ready.”
———
sukuna is not ready.
but he’s not anxious either, so that’s a win. his body’s vibrating with something he can’t quite name. the audience is clapping away as the current presenter leaves.
suguru claps his back. “go.”
and go he does. he rips the velvet curtains apart and trudges his way to the podium. his hands are in his pockets and his gaze is bored and through the corner of his eyes all he can see is you you you.
you, with your brows furrowed and lips in a pout he wants to kiss off. you stare after him with big eyes, before your eyes go even bigger. he watches you facepalm.
that shouldn’t make him laugh. he sets his speech on the podium.
in the audience, shoko is nudging your shoulder. “girl. isn’t that your man?”
naoya turns to frown at her. “excuse me?”
you and shoko ignore him. “i have no idea what he’s up to.” you lie.
on the podium sukuna clears his throat. the TVs overhead are zoomed in on his face. his hair is golden-red under the lights, and sweat glistens on his skin, and sukuna takes in a deep breath.
“my name is ryomen sukuna, and i’m the previous captain of the pandas football team.”
some people whistle and cheer. others watch in silent confusion. naoya is gritting his teeth beside you and shoko is squeezing your thigh.
“i’m here to make a confession in light of recent events within our campus community,” sukuna murmurs into the mic. god, fuck geto suguru and his pretty cursive. sukuna can’t read shit.
“at the first game of the season,” sukuna clears his throat. “there was a video broadcast that interrupted the flow of the ceremony. i profusely apologize for that,” he says. “i was the one responsible.”
gasps fill the arena.
“it’s unsportsmanlike, i know.” he adjusts the mic. “whether the contents of the video are honest or not, to broadcast them during the ceremony was uncalled for and inappropriate. i had no good or honest intentions behind it.” he grits his teeth, eyes leaving the script.
“i wanted to embarrass naoya.”
the crowd is silent, and sukuna finds your eyes.
you’re looking right at him with an expresssion he can’t make out. beside you naoya is there, arm around your seat, and anger seeps into his chest. naoya has a black eye—he’ll have to thank suguru and sato for that. he’ll also have to give him a matching one on his left eye.
he continues his speech.
“naoya zenin, captain of the pandas, stole my girlfriend.” he spits into the mic. “so i chose to embarrass him publicly. that’s it. that’s my reason.”
the audience is muttering, talking amongst themselves. some people have their phone’s up, recording. some are enraged. some girls are swooning.
“y/n l/n—fuck,” he spits into the mic, gaze bleary. he’s gripping the podium with both arms now, head down and away from the cameras. “evil fucking girl,” he murmurs.
“you don’t want him, baby,” he breathes against the mic.
“come back to me.”
the theatre is silent.
and then it roars
single ladies. girlfriends. boyfriends. members of the football team who miss life under sukuna’s reign. they’re all cheering for him, loud and unrestrained. clapping as sukuna grips the podium with his eyes on the hardwood. the headlights flash on his face and he squints to look past them, eyes lifting towards the audience.
you’re not at your seat.
why?
did you miss the end of the speech? sukuna blames himself. he didn’t even have the guts to look up at you as he breathed out the last line, and now he’ll never know if you heard the very words he’s been wanting to say. sukuna almost laughs. his eyes are hot but he almost laughs.
the audience is still roaring. sukuna rips his speech off the podium and walks off the stage.
NANAMI’S REMARK: SO ALL THAT FOR WHAT?
BOYFRIEND TACTICS #1: NEVER LOSE ME.
taught by: y/n l/n
“never had a bitch like me in your life”
❤︎
when sukuna trudges through the curtains, sato and suguru are already there.
faces flushed, chests heaving. “holy fucking shit—“ suguru pulls sukuna’s head into his arms. “you fucking did that.”
he did. so why does he feel so damn empty?
sato is practically bouncing, worming his way into the hug. “you did that!” he cheers. “did you see y/n’s face? was she cheering too—?”
“she left.”
sato and suguru freeze.
suguru pulls away first. sukuna’s face is dull, downcast—and his eyes are dark and soulless. “oh no—” suguru mutters. he holds sukuna’s face. “did you see when she left?”
“no,” he murmurs. no, he didn’t.
“fuck,” sato curses. “fucking hell, man—isn’t this low? even for her?”
suguru pulls sukuna’s head back under his chin. sukuna doesn’t resist or protest. just stares at the wood floor with empty eyes. but then a voice calls his name.
“ryomen sukuna. are you brooding?”
if god liked him, it would’ve been you. standing there in your short skirt and skimpy top and a teasing smile on your lips. mocking his misery. grinning up at him.
but instead it’s shoko ieri, brown hair under a bucket hat.
under normal circumstances, he’d be happy to see her. sukuna likes most of your friends. they’re all pretty party girls like you, a bunch of twenty-something year olds who think life is about bourbon glasses and friday mornings passed out in the backseat of someone’s car. they’re wild but they’re all nice girls, and they’re good to you so that’s fucking that.
but he doesn’t want to see your friends. sukuna wants to see you.
suguru brushes sukuna’s hair back. “shoko. to what do we owe the pleasure?”
“relax, geto. i’m not here to cause trouble,” she hums, leaning against a beam. “just here to pass across a message.”
she muses. “backstage dressing room. one-hundred two, not hundred and one,” shoko recites. “i have to leave now, but don’t be late. and sukuna,” she pauses to look at him. “no backup. just you.”
she turns away with a lilt in her steps, and the boys of sigma chi are left staring at each other in confusion. the message is clear though, and sukuna wipes his face.
room 102. got it.
# SHOW TIME !
ryomen sukuna comes in alone.
the door to room 102 pushes open with a creaak. the dressing room is racks and racks of clothing, some on the floor, some strewn across tables, and mirrors upon mirrors. the vanities still have their lights glowing orange. the room smells like rust and girl.
sukuna finds you in front of a mirror.
you’re checking yourself out, neon pink feather boa around your shoulders. on your head is a comically large sun hat, and there’s a bright green belt flung around your waist. you don’t look up when he walks in. just shift your hips in the mirror, skirt swishing around your thighs.
“you like my outfit?” you hum, still facing the mirror.
you look silly. if he was in a better mood, he’d probably smile. but instead he trudges forward and leans back against the table behind you. “yeah. looks cute.”
“hmm,” you fit your hands over your hips. “i still feel like it’s missing something.”
sukuna stays quiet.
you walk over to a bunch of boxes, pulling out all sorts of costume pieces. your tone is sing-song. “i heard your little speech.”
sukuna plays with the bracelet on his wrist. it’s not a bracelet. it’s one of your bra straps, actually, and he’d forgotten he put it on before the speech. it’s suddenly itchy against his wrist. “you liked it?”
“i thought it was cute,” you hum, inspecting a tie. you walk over to him, and sukuna spreads his legs a bit so you can slip between his thighs. you hold the tie up to him. “can you help me?”
he takes the tie from your hands. fits it over your neck quietly. he’s folding the ribbon around your neck, pretending he can’t feel your breath on his lips.
he murmurs, “i don’t understand what you’re doing, baby.”
his palm leaves your tie to cup your cheek. your gloss smudges against his palm. “what do you mean? i’m getting dressed up.”
his thumb strokes your cheek. “please don’t play dumb.”
you snuggle into his palm, humming contentedly. sukuna’s thumb still strokes your cheek. his other hand has come up squeeze your hip, then snake around it, then pull you closer into him.
“i’m sorry,” he breathes against your lips.
“for what?”
“for kissing another girl,” he murmurs. “for even looking at her. for being difficult. always giving you a reason to turn around and leave, then begging you to come back.” he cups your face.
“i love you. i’ve never loved any girl the way i love you.”
you trail a palm down his chest. “come back to me,” you repeat his speech.
“come back,” he murmurs, hands sliding up your spine. “come back to me, baby.”
you giggle as he leans closer to steal your lips. ryomen sukuna tastes like strawberry and spearmint.
Y/N’S REMARK: GUESS WHO’S BACK <3
COUPLE TACTICS #1 : DICKMEDOWN—WHO SAID THAT?!
taught by: ryomen sukuna’s cock
“there is no quote. i am a cock.”
❤︎
in ryomen sukuna’s bedroom, he has his back against the headboard and his girlfriend in his lap.
you’re half naked. clad in nothing but a lacy bra and matching black panties, giggling as you pose into his macbook camera. you lift another bra up to check it against your chest. ryomen sukuna squeezes your thigh.
“you like this one?” he murmurs behind you, reaching his hand up to grope your breast. “wasn’t in the cart. added it myself.”
“it’s so pretty,” you coo, lashes fluttering. “thank you, ryo.”
“you’re welcome, princess.”
it’s just two days after the whole speech at the theatre. ryomen sukuna watches you with bleary eyes. he leans back against the headboard, watching as you shrug off your bra to try another one he bought. he reaches up to graze his thumb over your pebbled nipple and you giggle, before sliding backwards to lean back against his chest. he squeezes your tits in his palms before kissing your cheek.
“love this set,” he murmurs against your ear. he’s twisting your nipple in one hand & the other is already sliding down over your belly, down to your lacy black panties. “so pretty on you.”
“mmh,” your thighs squeeze as his hand slips below the fabric, finding your wet, aching clit. he rubs the pad of his thumb over it in circles. kisses your cheek again when you whine.
“missed you,” he murmurs. “so bad, pretty.”
“mhm,” you breathe. you want to bite back with something sassy but ryomen sukuna is kneading your breast while his thumb fingers your clit. he slips in another finger and rolls the bud between them. your thighs squeeze around him.
“ryo,” you purr. “you’re gonna get them dirty.”
“i know,” he shushes you. “just wanna feel you.”
and feel you he does. he pushes your body up on his chest and latches his hot mouth around your nipple. “mmh—,” he groans, tongue swirling around the pebbled peak. “fuck, missed this.”
his fingers rub harder against your clit. faster, faster, until your hips arch of the bed and your thighs shake around him. he can already see slick coating your inner thighs, and your moans in his ear only make him rub harder. “fuck,” he curses. fuck fuck fuck.
your lashes go sticky with tears. your clit is wet and throbbing around his fingers. your thighs shake as you reach your high, and sukuna has to shove his lips to yours to quiet your moans. he licks his tongue into your mouth, hot and wet and sloppy, palm settling to gently rub your clit through your high.
you gasp, pulling away. your lashes are sticky & your cheeks flushed hot. “i missed you.”
he kisses you again, soft. “missed you too.”
he slips your panties off your thighs, holding your naked body against him. “missed this pussy too,” he rasps. “gonna stuff you till you’re cumming on my cock.”
you squirm against him, swatting his chest as he unzips his trousers. “but i just came!”
“you’ll come again, pretty.”
he fumbles with the zipper, slipping out his heavy, hard cock. his cockhead is throbbing and sticky with precum, and he shifts you forward so your back is against his chest.
“go slow,” you whimper, already nervous.
he kisses your shoulder. “you don’t want that.”
and you don’t. you arch into him as he slips his cock into your puffy, slick-coated folds from behind. he smears precum and slick over them with his cockhead, kissing your shoulder as you shiver against him. “relax, you’re okay. you still on the pill, baby?”
you nod shyly. he kisses your neck.
sukuna’s cock is thick. heavy and swollen and pulsing between your slobbering foods. he pushes his hips into you, letting your pussy squelch around him, and his arm fits under your body so he can grope your perky breasts. he tugs on a nipple before rolling it between his fingers. fuck.
you whimper as his cock stretches you out, sliding deeper and deeper into your folds. “fuck,” he breathes against your ear. “you’re so fucking hot. so tight. so wet.”
you whimper as his fingers find your clit again. he circles it hard, hips bucking to push his cock deeper into you before sliding back out, palms still fondling your breasts. it’s too much, it’s too fucking much, and he can hardly blame you for whining against him. “ryo—”
“shh—you’re good, you’re doing so good,” he rasps as you clench around his cock. “so fucking good. you know how good you feel around my cock, baby? m’so fucking lucky—.”
he’s shushing you but his hips only buck faster and faster. your eyes squeeze shut as he breathes. “fuck, gonna cum—“
your walls quiver around him as you come together, white hot cum stuffed between your folds. you groan, ragged, as sukuna pants into your neck. he kisses your shoulder before resting his head against your neck.
“i love you,” he rasps.
“i love you too.”
you stay like that for a moment, holding each other before he kisses your shoulder. “let’s get you cleaned up.”
——
“you have a lot of explaining to do.”
sukuna comes back with new shorts hanging low on his v-line. he has a warm cloth in his hands, and he climbs over your sore body. even now you’re still smiling up at him, lashes fluttering, cheeks flushed. “whatever do you mean?”
“don’t play dumb,” he kisses your cheek before gently nudging your thighs open. he slides the cloth down your inner thigh, ignoring the way you reach up to thread your fingers through his hair. “you have to explain. why you went to naoya.”
“but what if i don’t want to?”
“you will,” he says. he slides your panties up your thighs, pressing a kiss to your clit before slipping them all the way up.
but then he changes his mind. slips your panties down again.
“ryomen.” you’re already sitting up.
“relax,” he mutters against your puffy cunt. “lean back for me.”
you sigh, doing as he says. he licks a stripe up your glistening folds. he can taste himself on your stuffed cunt but his tongue keeps moving regardless. he pulls back, lips glistening with slick.
“you’re gonna tell me exactly what your fucking plan was,” he sucks on your bud, letting go with a pop. “why i saw you again with naoya after he dared to fucking talk to you like that.”
“so strict,” you whimper, cheeks puffed as your hips arch into him. “i can date anyone i want.”
“no,” sukuna hisses. “you can only date me.”
“mmh—” you moan as his tongue slobbers over your glossy folds. you run your fingers through his hair as your pussy drools onto his tongue. “mmh—wanted to make you mad,”
“you did good,” he sticks a finger into your cunt and you gasp, loud. he’s knuckles deep now, pumping his finger in and out of you. “hah—wanted you jealous,” you moan. “we were gonna get revenge.”
his fingers curl so hard you cry his name.
you whimper and he ignores it. “was already jealous. why’d you go back to him after he touched you?”
he curls his fingers again. “ah—! sorry, i’m sorry,” you cry, lashes wet. feels so good. “we weren’t dating for real. just showed up in public together. he said we couldn’t stop, said if we did that meant you won,” you whimper. “he apologized, let me punch him. i gave him a—hnngh—black eye.”
ah. so the black eye naoya had wasn’t from sato and suguru.
sukuna swirls his tongue over your clit, lapping and sucking as he pumps another finger into your drooling pussy. he curls them until he’s pressing into that spongy part that makes you sob, and he sucks gingerly as your pussy sputters and spits slick into his mouth. “ryo—m’gonna cum—”
your thighs shake, walls clenching. sukuna pumps his fingers in faster, letting your thighs squeeze his neck. you cum over his mouth, right around his fingers, and sukuna kisses your puffy, still-sensitive clit.
when he looks up at you, you’re glaring. eyes glistening wet, cheeks flushed. pretty.
“what?” he says.
“you’re so mean,” you frown. “you see why i break up with you?”
sukuna huffs, climbing over your figure. when he’s right above you, you tug his neck down.
“i love you,” you mumble.
he kisses your lips. “i love you too.”
COCK’S REMARK : *HARDENS*
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #6: BREAK THE CYCLE !
taught by: ryomen sukuna
“loving you is a loop.”
ΣΧ
in toru gojo’s room of his apartment, the boys of sigma chi are all there. oh—and you too, of course.
sato is fast asleep on his twin’s bed, laid down & drooling on suguru’s shoulder beside him. suguru is tapping at his nintendo switch with furious speed. toru is cooking up something in the kitchen. and on his PC, you and sukuna are there, suguru’s sims 4 game loaded up on screen.
you’re on sukuna’s lap, his arm looped around your hips as you rant about the many tribulations you had to endure while ‘dating’ naoya. you’re customizing sukuna’s sim for your save file, and said man is doing nothing but rubbing your thighs and pressing lazy kisses to your skin.
“—and he leaves his boxers everywhere!” you exclaim, scrolling through geto’s CC folder. “i had to come over after he had practice once and they were everywhere. it’s that bad!”
“mhm,” sukuna kisses your neck, love drunk & bleary-eyed. “so bad, baby.”
“he’s so unhygienic,” you shift in sukuna’s lap, and he squeezes your hips to keep you steady. “i told him to at least clean up if he knows i’m coming over. he said no!”
sukuna nuzzles your ear, squeezes your thigh. “mm. m’gonna kill him.”
“no you will not! stop threatening murder!”
sukuna looks up. you’ve turned your head over your shoulder to glare at him, and he looks up at you through bleary eyes. your cheeks are warm. lashes fluttering. you’re the prettiest headache he’s ever had.
he kisses your jaw. “missed fighting with your pretty face,” he murmurs. “gimme a kiss, baby.”
you soften, and he leans up to kiss you deep.
“woah—” suguru throws a pillow at you both. sukuna swats it away from you without pulling back from your lips. he squeezes your waist and geto frowns. “even if sato’s asleep, i’m still fucking here!”
sukuna ignores him, his hand crawling up to grope your tits. suguru scowls, turns over to face sato’s sleeping figure. he should’ve known protesting was futile. sukuna’s always been an exhibitionist, but you’d think his therapy sessions would’ve taught him better by now.
sukuna pulls back, your gloss smeared over his lip & chin. you giggle at the sight, “hi.”
“mmh,” he nuzzles your neck.
the door swings open, snapping you and sukuna out of your daze. in comes toru gojo with a plate of lazy cake, glasses slipping down his nose. he blushes when he sees you and sukuna pressed close together. “hi. i made snacks.”
“oh, toru!” you purr. “you’re my favorite, have i told you that?”
toru sets down the plate on the desk in front of you. as he leans down you press a kiss to his cheek, and he blushes so hard his face turns beet red. he looks up, surprised, and you’re beaming at him. behind you, sukuna is scowling.
toru drops the plate and runs away.
you turn back to glare at sukuna. “you scared him.”
“no one’s allowed to kiss you.”
“i kissed him!”
sukuna ignores your protests, trying to cup your jaw so he can get a kiss of his own. you shove his face back, and he scowls.
“go apologize to toru,” you frown at him. “now.”
sukuna wants to protest. wants to say he’s comfortable right here with your thighs over his lap and your lipgloss on his chin. but he knows if he fights back he’ll be left with nothing but a sore earlobe & an angry girlfriend. he grumbles as you slide off him.
sukuna trudges to the kitchen, says his apologies. toru accepts them in a heartbeat.
when he comes back to the room, you’re gone.
“where is she?” his heart drops. “suguru—where is she?”
“chill,” suguru mumbles, eyes never leaving his switch. “she left you a letter. check on the desk.”
and next to toru’s plate of dessert, a letter is indeed there. he picks it up, thumb running over the paper. you’ve left a glossy kiss mark at the end.
‘dear sukuna,’ it reads.
‘i’m breaking up with you.’
sukuna’s blood runs cold.
‘i know we just got back together a week ago. but i thought about it! thought about how i’m becoming a better woman, growing in my spiritual journey. do i really want a jealous man who scares away my friends by my side??
so i decided: let’s break up. for real this time. it’s not you, it’s me. maybe if we’re truly meant to be, the stars will align and our paths will cross yet again. but for now? i have to choose me and my growth. so i’m leaving. for good.
i still love you though!! you’ll always be my lover <3 i love you soso much baby boy. i don’t even want to do this. but i know i have to make the right choice for both of us.
sorry to walk away like this. and don’t forget, you are not allowed to date any other woman!!! i am the only woman for you!! always and forever!! no dating, sex, kissing, touching, NOTHING. if i find out you even LOOK at another woman i’ll hate you forever!!!!!!!!!!!!
okay, that’s all. goodbye forever. i’ll always love you ryo <333333 i’m sorry it had to end this way.’
sukuna stares at the letter. he reads it once. twice. then once more.
and then he laughs.
because this is his girlfriend, bratty and high-maintenance and demanding and all. because you say goodbye forever, but he knows he’ll see you next week. he knows tonight you’ll call and say you miss his voice and afterwards you’ll send him a text saying you’re still not getting back with him and will be blocking him as a final goodbye. he knows you’ll unblock him on a random wednesday and won’t text, and he’ll just have to keep sending messages till they don’t turn green and he can ask you to come back to him.
and you’ll say yes. you always do. and if there’s anything or anyone who stops you from saying yes, he’ll crush them.
he rubs his thumb over the bottom of the letter. your glossy kiss mark is there.
and right beside it?
XO, YOUR EX HO 💋
SUKUNA’S REMARK: SEE U NEXT WEEK.
#SIGMA-CHI STORIES !
XO, EX HOE end.
XO HEARTKAJI. do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload.
Summary: You confess to your stepdad about having a crush and he gets angry and horny about it.
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, step-cest thus infidelity, big legal age gap, mean!Joel, switching POV, reader has a crush on a girl, Joel is disgusting but accepting of it, reader is afraid of spiders (no spiders in the story), f/m!oral, throat fucking, light pussy spanking, one face slap, unprotected piv, creampie, multiple orgasms, hyperspermia, degradation, slutshaming, manhandling, praise kink, daddy kink, mention of alcohol, swearing.
Word count: 3 k
A/n: the story was inspired by this anon ask, thank you for the idea, love! Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and inspiration behind ‘the spider shed’ lol♥️ Dividers by @cafekitsune ty<3 Hope you all will enjoy! Muah💋
Stepdad Joel Masterlist || MASTERLIST
Joel
‘Fuck this shit!’
Joel growled, wiping sweat off his forehead, and grabbed another nail. The nagging bitch which he called his wife had made him fix the fence in this damn heat so he was gritting his teeth at the Texan sun that had been fucking everyone in the ass every day that summer.
The back door creaked and Joel turned his head toward the sound. Here you were — his cock-hungry stepdaughter, sauntering into the yard with a glass of lemonade in hand and a pretty smile on your face. You were wearing a tight top and the shortest Daisy Dukes he'd ever seen in his life. Damn! He was really lucky to have such a slut walking around the house.
"Thanks," Joel barked before taking the glass from you and downing the refreshing liquid in one go. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, shamelessly checking out your naked legs, tummy and cleavage. "Get me a beer next time. I ain't twelve."
"K," you shrugged and headed back. Joel covered his eyes from the sun and ogled your asscheeks, poking out from under the jeans shorts. Ughhh... He adjusted himself with a grunt, already in need of a release - only a minute next to you and he already popped a semi. But that goddamn fence wasn't done. And his wife was home. 'Fuck my life!' Joel thought and kept on working.
A few minutes later you surprised him when instead of hiding inside the house from the unbearable heat you came out, sat on a lawn chair and stretched forward your gorgeous naked legs.
Joel scoffed, noting that you didn’t throw one glance at him but instead pulled your phone out and started click-clacking over the screen.
Joel spat onto the glass, thinking that you deserved a good spanking, didn’t you have anything else to do besides taunting him with your sexy body? His balls were getting heavier the longer he was staring at you but he wanted to finish the work today so he turned around and continued to hammer away.
Joel considered himself to be a strong-willed person, yet he couldn’t help but check you out again and again. Without a care in the world, not aware of his struggles, not looking at him at all, you were focused on your phone, your fingers typing.
Soon Joel realized it would be impossible to work — his head kept turning your way, his attention drawn to your gorgeous, almost naked body. Besides, he was getting really annoyed by you giggling like a silly schoolgirl, distracting him from his task.
Of course, you were addicted to your stupid phone like everyone in your generation so Joel didn’t think much of it at first but you kept tapping and laughing, laughing and tapping and Joel snapped. You knew your stepdad’s rule number one — ‘NO BOYS’ so who the fuck were you texting?
Joel threw the hammer on the grass and stomped to you.
“Whatcha gigglin’ about?” He gruffed, stopping so close, his leg was touching yours. Not waiting for an answer he unceremoniously grabbed your phone out of your hands.
“Hey! Give it back!” You jumped onto your feet, matching your stepdad’s scowl with your own. Joel didn’t give a fuck. He looked at the screen and his expression softened when he saw a girl's name at the top. For a second he almost felt bad, thinking that he had overreacted and you had just been talking to your friend, but he knew better than to trust such a slut like you so he began scrolling up and found a video.
“Joel, you can’t do this!” you exclaimed, trying to take your phone back, but Joel pushed your hands away and pressed Play. Music and loud voices filled the yard and Joel turned the volume down not to attract his wife's attention.
“No! Give it!” You tried to grab your phone again but Joel turned around and kept watching.
It looked like a house party and you were dancing with a girl among other people.
“Lookin’ like a slut… what a shocker!” Joel growled, getting even hornier at the sight of you in a short tight dress. His eyes were getting progressively wider the longer he was watching the girl and you grind against one another, hands roaming each other’s bodies, until she leaned over and kissed you on the lips.
Joel’s jaw dropped and cock twitched.
He was staring at you two making out for a few seconds and then the video ended.
A scowl returned to Joel’s face and he hissed through his clenched teeth, “What the hell is this?”
“Nothing,” you mumbled, sneaking your phone out of his big hands, your anger gone and quickly replaced by embarrassment. You looked like a puppy who’d just wet the floor. Joel placed his hands on his hips, his pose intimidating.
“Didn’t look like nothin’, little slut. Why were you kissin’ that chick?”
“We were just dancing, Joel.” You kept looking at your feet, avoiding your stepdad’s glare. It was almost cute but Joel was too angry and horny to be charmed.
“I saw that. You always shove your tongue into other people’s mouths when you dance? Is she your girlfriend?”
“No!” You finally lifted your head, locking eyes with your stepdad. “Well…”
“Well?”
“We’ve just met but… I like her,” you said with a trace of defiance in your shaky voice.
Joel narrowed his eyes.
“You a lesbian now? As far as I remember you were happily bouncin’ on my cock just two days ago.”
“Yeah but ..,” you held your head high and declared, “I’m exploring my sexuality. I don’t wanna limit myself to boys. Or.. men.”
Joel inched closer to you and anger rumbled in his chest as he gruffed,
“Ya better limit yourself to this cock or we're gonna have a problem.”
You were staring up at him with concern in your Bambi eyes, then threw a glance at the house, making sure your mom wasn’t looking, and put your hand on his broad chest.
“But, daddy,” you purred, pressing your body to his. “You said that I can be with girls.”
Joel was still glaring down at you but your sweet tone, your soft hand on his pack, your pretty eyes full of submission, all that made his cock harden and heart soften.
“Yeah, yeah…,” he muttered, his gaze darting from your eyes to your lips. Joel was conflicted, he wanted to have full control over his stepdaughter, wanted you to be horny just for him but the images of you fucking another chick made his dick very very happy.
So he leaned over and asked with a wolfish smile,
“Did you eat ‘er pussy yet?”
“Oh my god, Joel! No!” You took a step back from him and crossed your arms over your chest. Your tits looked even better now. “I said we just met.”
“Who knows what you kids do these days. A bunch of pervs.”
You rolled your eyes.
“Aren’t you the one fucking your stepdaughter?”
“Watch it!” Joel pointed his thick finger at you and added, “Or no more daddy’s dick for ya!”
Your expression soured and you were fumbling with your fingers for a few moments, then looked at Joel and said quietly,
“I still want you to… to use me. All the time.” Then you glanced at your phone and added, “But I really like her.”
“Aww,” Joel mocked your confession with a sarcastic tone. “I don’t give a fuck what you want.”
Now you looked downright hurt and he hated when you were in a sulk — your pussy wasn’t as wet, your blow job technique turned sloppy and not in a good way. He liked you needy and willing to give yourself to him completely.
So Joel took a deep breath and sighed,
“Pussies are ok, I guess.”
When you heard him, your face lit up and you bounced on your feet with excitement.
“Thank you, daddy!” You chirped but Joel quickly wiped the smile off your face when he added,
“But if you two fuck I wanna hear the details.”
“Eww, Joel! You’re the worst!” you exclaimed and crossed your arms again.
Meanwhile Joel’s eyes skimmed the windows, looking out to the yard. He was painfully hard but his wife could catch you and him inside the house. Suddenly a bright idea popped into his mind.
“Let’s go to the shed! All this pussy talk made me hard.”
Joel grabbed you by your arm and began leading you to a small construction on the other side of the yard. Your eyes widened and you screeched,
“Spider shed?”
“There aren’t any spiders, jeez… Your mom’s home. She’ll see us inside.”
“Any shed has spiders!”
You were trying to free your arm from Joel’s iron grip but he was relentlessly pulling you forward.
“Not this one! And you gonna be busy taking my cock. Spiders will be the last thing on your mind,” Joel chuckled, already opening an old wooden door.
“Mom can catch us here too!” You whined, giving him your last argument, but Joel was already pushing you inside.
“Nah. She’d never believe you’re in the spider shed.”
“Joel!!!”
You
Joel was right. It was hard to think about anything else except a huge schlong filling your mouth, a fat tip hitting the back of your throat. Your stepdad was towering over you in a tiny shed, his feet planted wide apart, his sweatpants and boxers tucked under his sweaty balls, while you were on your knees, gagging and drooling all over his crotch. The musk hitting your nostrils was intoxicating you, the salty taste of his sweat and precum made you salivate so much, your chest and top were soaked. Your eyes were watering profusely, tears streamed down your cheeks. You looked like shit with all the throat fucking and the temperature inside the shed being hellish, but damnnnn you were in heaven.
“Yeah— fuck—take it—take it—take it,” Joel chanted, rocking his hips and pushing his cock deeper down your throat with each thrust. You were doing your best, trying to breathe through your nose, but Joel was like a feral animal, smashing his lower belly into your face so fast, you started suffocating.
Desperate for air you scratched his hairy thighs and his hand, that was clutching your hair, roughly pulled you off his cock.
“What?!” he grunted, stroking his glistening shaft. You were coughing and wheezing, blinking your tears away and swaying on your shaky knees. You couldn’t reply and Joel slapped your cheek with his big wet cock and chuckled,
“Look at you. Nothing better than daddy’s dick, right?”
Your throat was sore already and you just nodded, looking up at him with your glossy eyes.
“Reckon that’s enough for your suckin’ hole. Let’s use your fuckin’ hole,” your stepdad smirked and pulled you up onto your feet. He pushed you to an old workshop table in the corner, unzipped your shorts and manhandled you to lie down on it.
You scrunched your nose in disgust feeling the dusty surface under your hands but the desire to get railed was so strong, you didn’t complain.
Joel looked insanely hot— his golden skin glistening with sweat, his hair wet and dark, his neck veins bulging.
“Spread ‘em. Knees bent. Yeah like that,” Joel threw commands at you after taking your shorts off and leaving you ass-naked. As always in your stepdad’s house, per his rule, you had no panties on.
“Here's my favourite cunt,” he said with a carnal smile, staring between your thighs, his head titled to the side. Your holes were fully exposed to him and Joel lightly slapped your pussy, coaxing a needy whine out of you, then laughed at your reaction and repeated the spanks a few times, watching you jerk again and again, each slap sending electricity through your whole body.
“Slutty snatch. Droolin’ when she gets spanked.”
Joel’s obsidian eyes were set on your leaking entrance, his breathing heavy, then he licked his lips, bent down and latched onto your spread cunt like a man starving.
“Oh my god!” When his hot mouth crashed against your heat, you gasped and arched your back. Your mind was short-circuiting as Joel began lapping at your folds, sucking on each pussy lip, flicking your clit with his tongue. It was his turn to drool now. Soon your already wet cunt was drenched with a mixture of your juices and his saliva.
Joel locked eyes with yours, his lips and facial hair shiny with your slick, and smirked, “Watch me,” then opened his mouth wide and stuck his tongue out. The next second he pushed it into your dripping hole and started tongue-fucking you, grunting and slurping, keeping your folds spread with his thumbs. You lifted your torso on your elbows and watched Joel eat you out, committing the sight and the sensation to memory for your later ‘self-care’ sessions.
Even biting your lips you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning and whimpering, filling the small space with your noises. You dropped your head back when pleasure rippled through your body, heat rose up in your core and you began shaking on the table, a hard orgasm hitting you like a freight train.
“No one’ll eat you as good as me. Got it?” Joel gruffed, parting from your hole that was clamping around nothing, then pushed your trembling hips down and kept sucking on your pussy throughout your shattering climax.
“Yes—yes—no one,” you mumbled as if drunk. When your orgasm began subsiding, your limbs felt weak, your body spent.
“And no one will fuck you as good as daddy,” he smirked, straightening up and settling between your legs. His cock landed heavily on your mound and lower belly and you shifted on the table, eager to fill up your wet but empty hole.
Apparently Joel wanted to play with you first, so he dragged his big fuzzy balls against your puffy pussy and you jerked, overstimulation burning you.
“Beg me to fuck you,” your stepdad gruffed and roughly snapped his hips into you, his leaky cockhead drawing a wet line on your skin. You wanted him so much, you’d do anything. You locked your blown out eyes with his and purred like a good stepdaughter,
“Please, fuck me, daddy.”
“Yeah? You want it?” He asked and pushed his hips into you again. Your core was aching for him so you nodded eagerly.
“I do, Joel. So much.”
“Good girl.”
Your hardened clit twitched as you heard his praise and when Joel finally began pushing his big rock-hard meat inside your pussy, you took a deep breath and relaxed all your muscles, getting ready to take him. Even after being opened up with his tongue, taking Joel’s cock was not an easy feat for your tight pussy yet extra pleasant for Joel, judging by the way his face twisted in ecstasy.
“Fuckmeeeeeee,” he exhaled, bottoming out inside you. “Best place on earth, this cunt.”
You smiled at him, filled to the maximum with joy and his cock, but he didn’t give you much time to enjoy the compliment because the next moment he grabbed your hips tightly and started rocking your world. The rutting was relentless and though you were holding onto the table, your back was still sliding up and down with every hard thrust and pull.
Joel was groaning, fucking into you, his curls wet and sticking to his sweaty forehead, his jaws clenched. He looked so hot your eyes might as well be hearts.
Your stepdad’s cock was rubbing the soft gummy spot inside you deliciously and you felt another orgasm building and brought your fingers to your clit to help yourself come.
Joel slapped your hand away.
“I’ll do it,” he barked and began rubbing your puffy bud with his calloused thumb. You knew that he'd do it better than you so there were no objections and soon you were thrashing against the table, seeing stars while coming on Joel’s fat cock.
“Shit…gonna… bust…,” Joel choked on his words and started spurting his load deep inside you. With his thick fingers digging into your thighs, he was pumping you full for what felt like hours. Before him you had never known a man who could jizz so abundantly, and while you were praying for your pill to battle through, your pussy was greedily milking him, wanting more and more of his hot sticky cum.
When his balls were drained, Joel planted his hands on the table by your sides and hovered over you, covered in sweat, catching his breath. His cock was still anchored inside you and your walls were clamping around it from time to time.
“Damn,” he chuckled as your eyes met.
“Yeah, damn,” you repeated, giving him a hazy and satisfied smile.
Finally, Joel pulled out and wiped the wetness off his face with his tee that looked completely soaked. Breathing heavily, he picked up and threw your shorts at you and after you both got dressed, he came up to you, pinched your chin and turned your head to face him.
“So that chick of yours…” You swallowed loudly, scared that he’d prohibit you from seeing your crush, but Joel surprised you. “You can fool around with her, I ain’t stoppin’ ya but —…” he leaned down, pressed his wet lips to yours and then whispered, “don’t forget that you’re mine.”
That word hit you straight in the sore pussy and you almost moaned. Mine.
“And my rule still stands,” Joel gruffed, his breath hot on your lips. “The only cock you take is daddy’s. Repeat it.”
“The only cock I take is daddy’s.”
“That’s right,” he nodded and turned around before saying over his shoulder,
“Wait for five minutes and then come out.”
Your jaw dropped.
“I’m not staying in the spider shed alone! Joel!” you yelled but your stepdad was already out of the door.
Thank you for reading! Please, leave a comment and reblog if you liked the story. I appreciate your support💞
warnings ⁀➷ semi-public sex, age gap (rafe is in his 40’s, reader is early twenties), cheating, unprotected piv, baby trapping, boob play, oral. 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 𝟏𝟖+
author’s note ⁀➷ fuckkk i wanna lick his bald ass head.
older bf!rafe who would never even think about saying no to you. It doesn’t matter how many of his cards you’ve maxed out, he would never make you unhappy. You never notice it, but his dick twitches at the sight of your happiness. He knows for a fact that no man will ever take care of you like he does, and that’s what makes him sleep better at night.
older bf!rafe who spoils you more than his own wife. Who never fails to pay all of your bills on time and gives you even more money on the side. Who takes you shopping to buy all of the clothes and jewelry that you could ever want.
older bf!rafe who wants to taste you at every chance he gets. If y’all are stuck in traffic, he’ll quickly pull your panties aside to get a good taste of you. He always has a need to dive his head in between your legs and take his sweet time with your pussy.
older bf!rafe who brings you to his yacht to finally get some alone time with you. Whose wife and colleagues stress him out so much that he needs you in order to get some release. Who finally feels a sense of peace whenever you are around him.
older bf!rafe being on an important work call as you’re down on your knees. He puts his fist over his mouth trying not to moan as you shove his dick even deeper in your throat.
His legs shivering and twitching as he’s seconds away from cumming down your throat. Who jerks violently as he reaches his orgasm and tries to push you off of him. Who throws his head back in agony as you have no intention of stopping until you make him cum again.
older bf!rafe who brings you into his house whenever his wife is away at work. Who fucks you hard as he stares at their wedding photos with a wicked grin on his face. Who makes sure that he fucks you on her side of the bed, letting you know that you should be his wife and not her.
older bf!rafe who’s heart swells at the nudes you send him while he’s at work. Who excuses himself from the conference room to jerk off to your pretty pictures. His grip gets tighter around his dick at the reminiscence of your tits in his mouth. Imagining how your tits would squeeze around his length as he fucks them. He cums hard at the thought of your tits in his face.
older bf!rafe who makes sure to breed you each and every single time. Whose thick arms pin you down to stay absolutely still as he cums inside of you. Who makes sure that you will certainly get pregnant so that he will forever be in your life. You will finally be Mrs. Cameron after all.
summary: after trying to convince him for months to do a trip for your birthday, he finally agrees. and well, he fucks you till you see stars. happy birthday to you.
trigger warnings: age gap (reader in her early 20s, joel in his 40s), fluff, oral sex (m!receiving), light spanking, fingering, praise kink, breeding kink, degrading kink
words: around 2k? (didn't count them)
a/n: hey guys!! sorry for the later update. sorry if this oneshot seems rushed, but i was very busy the last couple of days. I will also be on vacation for the next three weeks, so sorry if it will be a little quiet on here. hope you still like it!
finally.
finally he agreed to this.
even if it was just a two day roadtrip, you fought for it for months, trying to convince him to do something with you. not just, sneaking behind your dad's back, spending the night. maybe a weekend.
he said it's not right. shouldn't be away for so long. could be obvious.
but, here you are.
sitting next to him in his truck, driving through texas.
you have been sneaking around with joel for about six months now. but you have already known him for way longer.
your dad moved to this neighborhood around six years ago. freshly divorced from your mom. you, just fifteen, somehow trying to cope and deal with everything. you had your troubles settling in, your dad didn't. he became friends with joel pretty quickly. and eventually turned best friends.
you've seen him around a bunch, but well, never really cared. that was until you turned nineteen. you remember the moment exactly.
you were at a party. drank a little. there was this guy. he was checking you out, you knew him from school.
you know it was stupid, but you were thinking whatever. you feel like everybody already had a boyfriend or something. so you made out with him. but it quickly turned into something you did not want.
his hands in places where you did not want them to be, while he pushed you into a corner. you quickly panicked, but thanks to your self defense classes, you kicked him into his balls and left.
you knew you couldn't call your dad because he would ground you for months, besides that you already just got into college. he would be raving mad. so, you called joel.
he didn't question it. he didn't say anything. just showed up with his truck and picked you up. muttered something about how you should try to be responsible and not do stupid things like this.
but besides the light scolding, he noticed.
noticed how your breath was still uneven. you fidgeting with your hands. you didn't need to say anything, but he understood. could figure.
that night, he hold your hand the entire time on the drive back.
and from then, well. he started to care and you did either. maybe a little too much than you should.
you started to hang out with him. randomly showing up at his doorstep when your dad wasn't home or took his afternoon nap.
it was comforting. he was comfort.
but besides that, you started to notice his hands. arms. eyes. nose. back. shoulders.
fucking everything about him made you blush. or stare. or nearly drool.
you thought it's just a stupid crush. besides, he's 36 and over 10 years older than you are. plus, he's your dad's best friend.
so. there's no way he would ever like you back.
so you thought.
another year and a half passed.
now, you were twenty. still, nothing happend. you kept that stupid crush to yourself.
but one night, you sneaked over to his place. you had a stupid argument with your dad. you a ticking bomb. and to your surprise, joel did not make it better that night. said, you couldn't come over anymore that often. should talk to your old man instead of him. sort things out.
voices were raised. things were said.
you asked him why. and he said
"because i see how you look at me. and i can not stand the fact bein' in your presence and not be able to—"
he didn't finish the sentence. didn't need to. then you kissed him. he did too. and well, kisses turned into more.
now, six months later. here you are. fucking your dad's best friend.
to you, it was more than fucking. you loved him. god, you fell for him so hard. but you weren't official or anything. never talked about it. joel didn't either.
but, now for your 21st birthday, he finally agreed to doing something with you. alone.
and now, you're on this roadtrip.
you were singing out loud to a song in the car. windows rolled down. wind blowing through your hair.
you knew joel was rolling his eyes at you. but you also knew he smirked.
"y're impossible, y'know that", he mumbles under his breath with a light chuckle.
"oh? am i now? look, sorry i am just enjoying the ride and can not sit in silence", you remark teasingly.
joel just rolls his eyes.
"ugh, you're so judgy", you mumble under your breath as you lean over to him, placing your hand on his upper thigh to support yourself on it a little before you place a soft kiss on his cheek.
yes. of course you knew what you were doing with your hand placement.
and he noticed either.
"gotta concentrate on drivin', love", he reminds you. "don't get any thoughts"
you just chuckle, roll your eyes and sit back down on your seat. for now.
you both did not really exactly knew where you were going. you didn't at least. joel said he'll just take you some places.
"you do know that today's my birthday, right?", you remind him some time later. you knew that he knew. this was just to.. well, tease him.
for him to keep in mind to maybe let you get away with your teasing either.
"i do. ya' made damn sure i do", he answers in his thick southern accent. no further reaction.
you sigh dramatically. "well, where are we goin'?"
"you'll see.", he answers simply.
you'll see??? really?
this is like the worst sentence for him to say to you. especially you. the most impatient and nosy person on earth.
you sigh dramatically again.
"fine..", you breath out under your breath.
another half an hour passes by. you were now in the back seat, laying back there, reading a book.
you got bored eventually. you sigh softly. the book resting on your chest while you watch joel.
his side profile.
and there is the tingle between your legs already.
you slowly lift up your leg, touching his head with your foot softly, running over his shoulder, then his hair. teasing.
he didn't react. just gave you a quick glance into the front mirror to look at you, then looked at the road ahead again.
it was silent now. the radio playing very silently in the background while you climbed back in front. nobody talked. you just leaned over and started to unbuckle his belt.
joel started to get uneasy. his breath hitches slightly.
"darlin'", he warns.
but you ignore it. you open his zipper, and start to rub your hand over his boxers, right over his thick cock, which was already getting half-hard by your touch.
"not now.", he warns again. but he knew you were not listening.
you pulled down his boxers, grabbed his half-hard cock in your hand and pulled it out. just enough for you to reach.
"fuckin' hell- i said not no-", you cut him off by your mouth wrapping around his tip. you take a long lick from down to up, before wrapping your already wet lips around his thick length.
he groans, cursing under his breath. his hand finds your hair, grabbing it to guide you, while he kept his eyes on the road.
"ya' never listen, do you—", he growls as you shove his length down your throat as well as the current situation allows, beginning to move your head up and down.
you already feel some pre-cum on your tounge as he guides you a little faster.
"so fuckin— desperate for my cock— my girl can not even be patient- fuck", his breaths get faster. his grip around the steering wheel harder.
your eyes start to get blurry from some tears while not able to properly gasp for air. you want to make him cum in your mouth. already soaked during that.
"there ya go— good girl- just keep going like that", he praises you while gasping after air more.
his cock starts to twitch in your mouth. so, you keep going. flicking your tounge at his tip just right, sucking at the right moment and—
you feel his warm cum fill up your mouth just right as he groans, pushing up his hip just a little.
he was out of breath as you release his dick out of your mouth with a pop-sound. proudly swallowing down his cum and wiping your mouth with the back of the hand, while smiling at him
"you are out of your mind, young lady", he just says out of breath.
it turned dark already. you took a small nap but woke up from feeling the truck stopping.
as you yawn while opening your eyes, joel gets out of the car. "come on'", he just grumbles.
you smile softly, stepping out of the truck.
as you walk towards him, rubbing your eyes, you suddenly notice where you were standing.
up on a hill, able to look down on the beautiful countryside of texas.
and then, the sky.
the starts shining down on you, looking so beautiful since the sky is so clear.
"this is—", you breath out as you turn around to face joel.
he stand behind you, holding up a small candle.
"happy birthday'— know i ain't got a cake or anythin' but-", you cut him off immediately.
this was so sweet. so fucking sweet.
you immediately wrap your arms around his neck and fall into his arms, nearly jumping on him as you hug him.
"okay okay— easy girl", he chuckles.
his chuckle. gosh, it makes your heart jump.
you just look at him. your smile so bright, before you slam your lips on his.
not for lust. at least not yet. but for gratefulness. full of love.
"this is beautiful joel..", you whisper, already threatening to tear up.
his eyes soften.
"okay- no need to cry now— blow out your candle, love", he smiles and holds up the candle.
you knew he hates to see you cry. because it does just something to him.
you smile softly, closing your eyes, making your wish and you blowing out the candle.
even if joel was convinced he is not a romantic— he fucking is.
he set up blankets and all that stuff on the back of his truck, so you could watch the stars. the weather was just perfect either.
you were laying in his arms. listening to his heartbeat while you looked up in the sky
you wish you could stay like this forever with him. not hide. just.. be together.
"ya' know, my old man used to take me here. after we went hunting, and if he was in a good mood.. we went up here and just..", he suddenly says quietly. "just hope ya' like it here as much as i do"
joel never really did talk about his childhood. you just know it wasn't easy.
you prop your head up on your elbow, as you look at him, brushing your hand over his cheek.
"thank you, joel. truly. i mean it. for taking me to such a special place. this is the best birthday ever", you say like you mean it.
and you do.
he looks at you. truly does. then smiles, before you both loose yourself in a kiss.
you love this man to death.
after joel being sentimental, what he usually is not—
he was now on top of you, kissing down your neck while peeling of that sundress you were wearing.
as you were whimpering, his hands grab your breasts, softly running his thumb over your nipple.
"my beautiful girl..-", he whispers into your ear as his hand moves down between your thighs immediately. his hand runs over your soaked panties.
"fuck— look at you hm, already that wet for me?", he growls. you blush.
his fingers wrap around your waistband and pull them down. you gasp as the cold summer air hit against the hotness between your legs.
he slides two fingers in you, immediately crooking them just right to get to that one spot.
you moan, arching your back in response.
"oh joel—", you whimper as he starts to move his fingers inside of you. you can hear his fingers pump into you through that wetness.
"god baby, you already startin' to clench around my fingers", he chuckles teasingly.
yes. you were pretty fucking horny. you could already just cum to his voice at that point.
he pumps them in and out of you a few times more, before pulling them out completely. you let out a whine in response.
"nuh-uh, none of this.", he immediately correctes.
"please joel— i need you inside of me— fuck please", you beg. your pussy was currently clenching around nothing. that needed to change.
he gets off the back of the truck, pulls you at the edge of it and flips you on your stomach.
"so fuckin' impatient— but the birthday girl will get what she wants..", he mutters in his deep voice while you heard his belt unbuckle.
you bite down on your lip. giggling quietly.
"gonna fuck you till you see your own fuckin' stars", he growls as he positions himself behind you, pressing against your entrance.
no prep. just thrusts right into you.
you yelp, arching your back in response as he grabbed your hair, keeping that back arched.
"ya' want me to go slow or—"
"fuck me joel— just please— rough— hard-", you blabber, not even letting him finish.
you were so fucking desperate. it's not even funny.
you hear his deep chuckle, before he immediately starts to thrust into you.
his thick cock stretches you perfectly. the sound of skin slapping together echoed into the quiet night, followed by your moans and his groans.
"so fucking tight—", he groans as he delivers a sharp spank onto your ass, which makes you jump.
"my beautiful little birthday girl— taking me so well—", he talks you through it. he always does.
it didn't take long until you were clenching around him. "joel— im gonna cum-", you moan loudly, and then, you just do.
your body shatters, you roll your eyes back, clenching around joel just right, which could make him cum either— but
he didn't let you catch your breath. he pulled out of you, flipped you around and thrusts into you again.
you let out a scream at this point. "joel— i can't tak-"
"you can.", he just cuts you off while he keeps you spread open. his hands wrap around your hip, keeping you still.
you were a fucking mess.
"joel—", you whimper. tears started welling up in your eyes from the pleasure and the overstimulation.
his one hand goes down between your legs, his thumb meeting your clit, rubbing it in sync to his thrusts.
"gonna make you cum again— want you to cum right fucking now", he growls as his breaths get heavier.
you felt it. clenching around him again, your body tensing up, your toes curling.
and you do.
another wave of pleasure follows right after, clenching around him just right—
he shatters. you gasp as you feel his warm cum feeling you up. his cock twitching inside of you.
you were looking up in the sky as you were catching your breath.
gojo and geto walk in on shoko and reader making out
you and shoko were still half-laughing against each other’s mouths, foreheads brushing, like neither of you were actually done but also neither of you could be serious for more than two seconds around each other.
“shoko— baby” you tried speaking again, softer this time, your voice breaking a little when she kissed you mid-sentence like she had zero intention of letting you finish anything.
“i already locked the door if that’s what you’re about to ask.” she mumbled against your mouth, completely calm, like this was the most normal thing in the world.
you let out a small laugh into the kiss. “you’re ridiculous.”
“you like it.”
“unfortunately,” you muttered, smiling as you kissed her back again, slower this time, her hand sliding up to your cheek like she had all the time in the world.
and of course, that was exactly when the universe decided to ruin everything.
the door clicked.
not unlocked.
opened.
there was a pause so heavy it felt like the air got sucked out of the room.
“…”
then—
“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” satoru screamed.
you and shoko practically jumped apart so fast it was like you’d been hit with lightning. your hand was still halfway raised like you were trying to rewind time and physically stop this from happening.
in the doorway stood satoru gojo, grinning like he had just witnessed the greatest entertainment of his life, and suguru geto right behind him, looking tired in the specific way of a man who already knew this was going to be a problem.
“I KNEW YOU TWO WERE HOOKING UP! I TOLD YOU SUGURU! PAY UP!” satoru yelled again, pointing at both of you like he was announcing a championship match result.
suguru sighed, already reaching into his pocket with the resigned energy of someone who had lost faith in humanity. he pulled out forty dollars and handed it over without even looking.
“you guys BET on us?!” you asked, completely frozen in disbelief.
“it was a hypothesis,” suguru said calmly.
“it was obvious,” satoru added immediately, stepping fully into the room like he wasn’t intruding at all. “i mean come on, the tension? the eye contact? the way shoko calls you ‘idiot’ like it’s a love language?”
“shut up,” shoko hissed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand because your lipgloss had transferred to her lips.
satoru gasped dramatically. “wow. no congratulations? no thank you for acknowledging your romance?”
“satoru,” suguru warned, but he was already rubbing his temples.
you pointed between them and the door. “you broke into her room to bet on our relationship?”
“we didn’t break in,” satoru said, offended. “the door was unlocked. so that's on you two lovebirds for making out without locking the door.”
“shoko!! you said you locked the door” you said—embarrassed.
"welllll—" shoko started but she was interrupted as you threw a pillow at her
satoru laughed. “see? so it's not our fault. it's your irresponsible girlfriend's fault.”
“i am going to kill him,” shoko said flatly.
“you’d have to get in line,” suguru muttered.
and somehow, despite everything, satoru was still smiling like he had just made everyone’s day better.
ALRIGHT GUYS I FINALLY SPACED OUT MY LINESSS (it looks way better i will be doing this from now on) i made so many typos while writing this so please forgive me if there's any typo's that i didnt catch 🙏🙏 i also won't be posting the next four days for special reasonssss so sorry 🙏🙏🫠 IVE ALSO BEEN WANTING TO WRITE SMTH W SHOKO FOR SOOOOOO LONG BC I LOVEEE HERE
the kind of quiet that came with tension wound too tightly beneath the surface.
his laptop screen glowed against the dim room, reflecting off tired eyes that hadn’t looked away from spreadsheets, contracts, and endless emails for hours.
his phone buzzed.
again.
he picked it up.
“yes,” he answered flatly.
someone launched into another explanation on the other end.
his eyes drifted back toward the three unread emails at the top of his inbox.
urgent.
urgent.
urgent.
of course they were.
“send me the revised copy,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. “i’ll review it.”
another buzz.
another notification.
another problem.
he’d barely ended the call before his assistant texted him.
they need your approval tonight.
he stared at the message for a few seconds.
then exhaled slowly through his nose.
the sound of soft footsteps barely registered.
“kento—baby?”
he looked up.
you stood in the doorway in one of his oversized sweaters, fingers curled around the sleeves. your makeup had long since faded into something softer, your hair slightly messy from lounging around the house all evening.
you offered him a small smile.
“i made tea.”
his attention flickered back toward his computer.
the phone buzzed again.
his inbox refreshed.
another email.
something inside him tightened.
“not now.”
the words came out sharper than he’d intended.
not loud.
not angry.
just exhausted.
final.
the room went still.
you blinked.
“…okay.”
your smile disappeared so quickly it made his chest tighten.
you lowered your gaze.
“sorry.”
then you turned around and walked away.
he stared at the doorway long after you’d disappeared.
silence.
his phone buzzed again.
he didn’t answer it.
instead, his mind replayed the way your voice had gone small.
sorry.
he closed his eyes.
“…damn it.”
he pushed a hand through his hair.
he hadn’t meant—
of course you hadn’t interrupted on purpose.
you never did.
you’d just wanted to see him.
to bring him tea.
to ask for a few minutes of attention after he’d been locked in his office all day.
his gaze shifted toward the mug sitting near the doorway.
still steaming.
the tea you’d made him.
untouched.
the guilt hit him so hard he physically winced.
his phone rang again.
he rejected the call.
then another.
he silenced it completely.
ten minutes later, he stood from his desk.
the paperwork was still there.
the emails were still urgent.
the problems would still exist when he came back.
but so would the memory of your face if he let this sit.
he found you curled up on the living room couch.
the television played quietly in the background, some reality show you’d insisted wasn’t trash television.
you had your knees tucked against your chest.
the pink blanket draped over your legs.
you eyes were watery.
which made him feel worse.
you looked up when you noticed him standing there.
“…hi.”
your voice was careful.
he walked closer.
“come here.”
you hesitated.
“…i thought you were busy.”
“i am.”
he sat down beside you anyway.
then opened his arms.
“come here.”
you looked uncertain.
“it’s okay.”
his jaw tightened.
“no.”
he held your gaze.
“it’s not.”
you blinked.
“…what?”
he exhaled quietly.
“i’m exhausted.”
“i know.”
“i’ve had people calling me nonstop for hours.”
you nodded.
“i know.”
“and i was frustrated.”
his expression softened.
“but i shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”
you immediately shook your head.
“you didn’t yell at me.”
“i still hurt your feelings.”
you looked down at your hands.
“…a little.”
his shoulders slumped.
“i know.”
for a moment, neither of you said anything.
then he reached over and gently took your hand.
“come here.”
this time, you let him pull you into his lap.
you curled against his chest automatically, your head settling beneath his chin.
his arms wrapped around you tightly.
almost desperately.
“…i’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair.
you played with the sleeve of his dress shirt.
“you don’t have to apologize for being stressed.”
“i do when i take it out on you.”
“you weren’t mean.”
he rested his cheek against the top of your head.
“you brought me tea.”
“…yeah.”
“and all you wanted was my attention for five minutes.”
you went quiet.
“…i missed you.”
it came out so small.
so honest.
he closed his eyes.
he’d been in the next room all day.
and somehow you’d still missed him.
his arms tightened around you.
“i know.”
you pressed your face against his neck.
“your job is important.”
“you are too.”
“i didn’t want to bother you.”
he immediately pulled back just enough to look at you.
“don’t.”
“…what?”
“don’t ever think you’re bothering me.”
“but—”
“you’re my sweetheart.”
his voice was calm but firm.
“you wanting to spend time with me isn’t an inconvenience.”
you searched his face.
“even when you’re busy?”
“especially then.”
his thumb brushed beneath your eye.
“i don’t want you sitting out here wondering if you’re allowed to ask me for affection.”
“…okay.”
he studied your expression.
“okay?”
you nodded slowly.
“okay.”
a tiny pause.
“…can i still give you the tea?”
he actually laughed.
soft and tired.
“yes.”
“…even though it’s probably cold now?”
“yes.”
you brightened slightly.
“…can i also sit in your office while you work?”
he sighed dramatically.
“you mean sit quietly?” he said
“…mostly quietly.”
“…define mostly.”
you smiled a little.
“i might ask for one kiss every thirty minutes.”
he raised an eyebrow.
“that’s your compromise?” he asked exasperatedly
“i think i’m being very reasonable.”
for the first time all evening, genuine amusement crossed his face.
“you have a very interesting definition of reasonable.”
you grinned. “so is that a yes?”
he looked down at you.
your hopeful expression.
the way you’d tucked yourself into him like this was where you belonged.
then he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss against your forehead.
“it’s a yes.” he sighed
you wrapped your arms around him immediately.
“yay!”
he held you for another minute before resting his chin on top of your head.
“…for the record.” he started
“mhm?”
“if i ever do that again…”
you looked up at him.
“…don’t let me get away with it.”
you blinked.
“you want me to call you out?” you asked
he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.
“i want you to remind me that no matter how complicated my day gets…”
his hand settled against your cheek.
“…i’m never too busy to fix it when i hurt your feelings.”
you stared at him for a moment before your expression softened.
then you kissed the corner of his mouth.
“okay.” you sighed sweetly
“…okay?”
you smiled sleepily against him.
“but i’m still bringing the tea.”
another quiet laugh escaped him. “of course you are.”
“and after work…” you started
“yes?” he sighed
“…can we cuddle?”
he looked toward the office he’d abandoned.
toward the mountain of unfinished work waiting for him.
then back down at you.
his answer came without hesitation.
“of course sweetheart.”
ALRIGHTT IM ON A ROLLLL anyways i'll probably keep writing more olderbf!nanami because i love it and him smmmmmmmm 😁😁🫶 so yea. there will be more coming.
the soft glow from nanami's office lamp cast shadows across the stacks of files spread over his desk.
he’d loosened his tie hours ago, the top button of his dress shirt undone, sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms. his attention remained fixed on the document in front of him, brows furrowed in concentration as he read over pages filled with notes only he seemed to understand.
“…babyyyy” you whine
“hm?”
you were perched sideways across his lap in his office chair, one arm looped around his shoulders while you absentmindedly played with the expensive watch around his wrist.
“you’ve been working all evening,” you complained, resting your chin on his shoulder. “you promised we’d go out.”
nanami's hand paused over the papers before he sighed quietly.
“i know.” his voice was low and patient. “but i have to finish this tonight.”
you pouted immediately.
“you always say that.” you mumbled softly into his shoulder
he glanced at you then, the corners of his mouth softening.
“because my job doesn’t exactly stop when i leave the office.” he murmured in his usual low voice that always soothed you
“well…” you fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt. “what if we just went out for a little while?”
“define ‘a little while.’” he says
“an hour.” you said hesitantly— then you brightened.
“okay, maybe three.”
he gave you a look. “…three? that’s an entire evening.”
“exactly.” you answered happily. you leaned against him dramatically, wrapping both arms around his neck.
“please?” you whined. “there’s this adorable boutique downtown, and i saw the cutest shoes online, and i need your opinion.”
“you don’t need my opinion.” he sighed as his free hand ran up and down your back
“yes, i do.”
“you ask for my opinion then get mad when i make the "wrong" choice.”
“that’s not true.” you pouted
he raised an eyebrow.
“…you have nice opinions,” you corrected.
a quiet laugh escaped him despite himself.
you immediately perked up.
“that’s progress.”
“don’t get excited.” he sighed in that old tired way he always did before he gave into whatever you were asking for
you pressed a quick kiss against his cheek anyway.
“too lateee”
he closed his eyes briefly before setting his pen down.
“you’re very persistent.” he sighed again
“thank you.”
“that wasn’t a compliment.”
you smiled sweetly. “still counts.”
his gaze drifted back to the reports waiting on his desk.
“if i don’t finish these—”
“i’ll be really good while you work.” you whispered softly
“…”
“…mostly good.”
he looked unconvinced.
you leaned closer until your forehead rested against his.
“i’ll even let you explain all the complicated work stuff you like talking about.” you add
his expression shifted immediately.
“you hate when i talk about work.”
“i don’t hate it.” you played with the collar of his shirt. “i just don’t understand half of it.”
he huffed out another laugh. “that’s reassuring.”
“but i like listening to you.” your voice softened.
“you get this look when you’re passionate about something. i think it’s cute.”
the room fell quiet for a moment.
then his hand settled carefully against your waist.
“…you really mean that?”
“mhm.”
“even when i’m rambling?”
“especially when you’re rambling.”
he studied your face for a few seconds before shaking his head, a small smile finally appearing.
“you know that’s unfair.”
you blinked innocently.
“what is?”
“looking at me like that while trying to negotiate.”
“so…”
“so…” he sighed. “give me one more hour.”
your eyes widened.
“really?” you asked excitedly
“one more hour,” he repeated. “then we’ll go wherever you want.”
you practically lit up. “and you’ll help me pick out shoes?”
“i’ll help you pick out shoes.” he sighed
“and get dinner?”
“yes.”
“and dessert?”
he pulled you a little closer, amusement clear in his voice.
“you’re pushing your luck.”
you grinned before kissing him. “but you’re saying yes.”
“…apparently, i am.” he sighed for the 10th time already
you beamed.
“you’re the BEST!”
he looked back at the mountain of paperwork still waiting for him before glancing at your impossibly pleased expression.
“…don’t tell anyone ino folded this easily.”
you tucked yourself against his chest with a satisfied smile.
“your secret’s safe with me—anddd ino.”
he sighed again then kissed your head.
this is my second post AHHHHH im still kinda nervy🫠. but my last one did better than i thought soooo yea. @midnightsunkissd IM NOT A ONE HIT WONDER (i hope)
cw: minors fuck off . blowjob , dacryphilia , very disgusting , manhandling , spitting , cum swallowing , petnames like “doll” , slight objectification .
You can’t help desperately clinging on when he fucks your face.
Drool and snot runs down your face in a sticky mixture, your tears mix in soon after when you feel his member hitting the back of your throat. You scratch at his thighs, trying to show him that it’s too much but one of his hands holds your hair so tightly you can’t angle your head away.
The other hand strokes your head gently.
“That’s it, my babydoll, you take daddy so well.”
Your eyes are teary, bloodshot, lashes beading with tears as you suck Joel’s cock, bobbing your head up and down. The hand holding your hair forces you to deepthroat his cock and you don’t even fight him anymore, letting the girthy length of it penetrate your already-sore throat.
The way your throat bulges slightly turns him on more than anything. The sight makes him cum, thick semen pouring down your throat steadily before the stream stems and he pulls himself out.
“Ohhhh, fuck, baby. Let me see that pretty face,” he tilts your face up, thumb hooked under your chin, and spits right in the cum mixed with saliva mess in your mouth. “Be a dear and swallow.”
You obey, like a sweet fuckdoll, and smile with your trembling slightly swollen lips.
