As much as I love sub crybaby bottom Choso, I also love service top Choso who’s definitely subservient, but not quite in a submissive way. nsfw 18+ drabble mdni.
──── ୨୧ ────
Choso is the type of devoted that ensures he knows exactly what you need at any time day or night, because he pays attention to your body language like it’s his favourite hobby. Keeps tabs on every minute twitch of your thighs, every hitch of your breath or flutter of your lashes the same way he tracks how much water you’ve drank in a day, or the last time you ate something. He’s the type to let you sink down on his cock or grind against his mouth whenever you please. He’ll abandon whatever menial task he was doing prior, immediately consumed by you, utterly devoted to taking you apart - wringing orgasm after dizzying orgasm out of you until your legs have turned to jelly and all you can manage to do is slur out some breathy sound in the vague shape of his name.
No matter how long it takes, how red raw he feels, he’ll keep going until you’re well and truly satisfied, and then some. Using all of that inhuman endurance to keep you stuffed nice and full until you’re literally begging him to stop. He’ll peer down at you with those big brown eyes, low lidded and hazy and oh so full of love, murmuring sweet little coos of “right here, huh baby? feels good right here?” while he rubs messy hearts over your clit. You’re barely over your last orgasm - erring on overstimulated when he pushes you right against the edge again with a few well placed thrusts, “what’s that? you want another one?” because the only way he feels accomplished is with you sobbing in pleasure and utterly boneless after he’s broken you.
୨୧ — The chat doesn't register, because Sukuna doesn't stream for them.
He streams because he likes watching you squirm knowing thousands can see exactly what he's doing to you- and there's nothing your drool drunk brain can do about it.
“Pathetic,” he rumbles, the word vibrating through his chest where your back is pinned… “Can't even keep your mouth shut without help.”
The pink ball gag stretches your jaw wide- humiliating, a mocking splash of color against the mess you've become. Drool spills over the silicone in thick strands, dripping down your chin, your throat, between your tits where nipple clamps bite into swollen flesh.
He tugs the chain. Lazily. Just to watch you jerk.
“Mmmngh-!!”
“Quiet.” Another tug, harder. Your nipples stretch obscenely, flushed angry red, “You wanted this. Begged to be my little toy.”
Tch. Already crying. Weak.
The camera catches everything- your spread thighs, your trembling body, Sukuna behind you like a throne of muscle and malice. His cock rests against your slit, thick and veined and monstrous, smearing precum into your ruined folds.
He doesn't fuck you. Not yet.
First, he spreads you open.
Two fingers hook into your cunt and pull -slow, deliberate- stretching you while the webcam captures every glistening detail. Your hole clenches on nothing, pink and puffy and dripping.
“Look at this mess.” His voice drips contempt as he angles the camera, zooming in on the way your pussy weeps for him.
His laugh is low. Cruel.
“Fine. Since you're so desperate.”
He teases his tip against your entrance- the camera catches your gummy walls stretching around that fat cockhead, the first inch sinking into wet, sucking heat.
Then he punches into your guts.
“MMMNGH-!!”
One brutal thrust buries him to the hilt. He presses a palm against your belly, watching the shape of his cock distort your tummy, “There. That's where I'm going to break my girl.”
His pace is punishing- hips pistoning, cock battering your cervix until your insides go soft. Mushy. Ruined. Each thrust punches a muffled sob from your gagged mouth, drool splattering against your tits.
“Hnnngh- ! MMMPH- !!”
“Can't understand you.” He tugs the chain hard and your back arches, “Use your words. Oh wait- you can't.”
Fuck. Clenching so hard. Trying to milk me already.
The wet sounds are filthy. Your pussy squelches around him, arousal whipping to cream, a thick white froth clinging to his shaft and oozing around the stretched rim.
“Making such a mess.” He angles the camera lower, catching the creamy ring at the base, “Like a bitch in heat.”
His thumb finds your clit, “Gonna cum? Cream on my cock like the desperate little fucktoy you are?”
You nod frantically- tears streaming, drool pooling, nipples throbbing.
“Then do it. Show them what a pathetic slut you are.”
He rams your cervix and holds-
You shatter. Absolutely shatter around him. In his arms. In front of so many...
Your orgasm rips through in a blinding wave, walls clamping so hard he grunts, cunt creaming around him in thick, milky spurts. He fucks you through it without mercy.
“Mmmngh-! HNNGH- !”
“Good girl.” Mocking. Empty. He pulls you by the chain into a kiss, nipples stretching, “Again.”
The view count ticks past fifty thousand.
Sukuna doesn't glance at it.
His hips slow. Still buried, cock throbbing against your battered cervix, but the brutal rhythm eases into something deeper. Rolling.
“Fuck-“ His composure cracks, “that's my girl.”
His hand leaves the chain, cups your jaw. Gentle. Tenderly. Thumb swiping through the spit at the corner of the gag.
pervy best friend!choso who thinks you're his lucky charm and wants you to sit in his lap while he plays video games. while you're perched on his thighs with his arms on either side of you, he kisses your neck and nibbles on your ear as his fingers fiddle with his controller. when he wins a game he'll turn your face towards him and give you a peck on the lips, calling it a 'celebratory kiss'.
pervy bestfriend!choso who insists on coming with you whenever you want to buy lingerie - a second opinion is always useful right? he'll pick out a set in your favourite colour and wait for you outside the dressing room. once you're out, you give him a quick twirl bending down and shaking your ass a little. he'll come up behind you to help you 'adjust your bra strap', but really it's to feel your plush ass against his dick. you know exactly what he's doing and push back against him, grinding softly against his growing erection. when he coughs out a groan, you feign innocence, asking him sweetly if he's okay.
pervy bestfriend!choso who takes advantage of the fact that you become extremely affectionate when you're sleepy. whenever you go over to his place and end up sleeping over, you cuddle him tightly, wrapping your arms around his neck and throwing one of your legs over his own. choso feels his cock strain against the fabric of his boxers as you wiggle against him in an atempt to get comfortable, feeling your tits pressed against his arm and the warmth of your pussy against his thigh.
pervy bestfriend!choso who can't believe his luck when he looks over too see that the strap of your tank top has fallen all the way down and exposed your bare breasts. He stares as your tits rise and fall as you breathe, basically inviting him to suck on them. He leans down to watch your nipples harden and his mouth is on them in seconds. I mean, how could he possibly resist? Choso's eyes are half-lidded as he swirls his tongue around your bud, his spit coating every inch of your nipple.
pervy bestfriend!choso who is too focused on your chest to notice that you've been awake the whole time, watching him groan as he sucks your nipple passionately. Choso only realises you're awake when your hand travels to his hair and you start running your fingers through his thick strands.
pervy bestfriend!choso whose face is flushed in embarassment as he tries to explain why he was latched to your nipple just seconds ago but immediately shuts up when he feels your hand start to caress his bulge.
pervy bestfriend!choso who can't believe he might actually get to fuck you.
PAIRINGS reader x gojo/geto/choso/sukuna/nanami/toji
SYNOPSIS it's the turn of the century, and you are the most popular burlesque performer in town! welcome to the life of a showgirl – and the many men who stepped into it, for better or for worse
CONTENT mdni!, arguments, break ups, making out, first kiss, nanami is a gentleman, suguru is an asshole here im sorry, manipulation, unresolved sexual tension, dating, implied threat, unhealthy relationships, anxiety, reader is a performer, confident reader, historical au
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CHAPTER FIVE: DIAMONDS ARE A GIRLS BEST FRIEND
wc: 4.3k
"You look beautiful" Nanami smiled, opening the door to his car.
You should probably have been used to it by now, but it never failed to make your stomach flutter a little.
You smiled gratefully as you lowered your head to step inside, taking a brief second to look at the nice car in front of you. It was his third different one you had seen – though his security team a few meters away were always in the same plain looking car.
He had explained it to you once, on a day you were worried about who was following you. Apparently it was just what important, rich men like him did.
No wonder Suguru needed you to do this.
Though he was the last person you wanted in your thoughts right now.
And that was quickly scrapped too, as Nanami towered over you while you pulled your legs onto the passenger seat. With a hand on the roof and another on the door, he didn't even seem to realise how handsome he looked from down below like this.
You had to look up from between your long lashes to smile at him, head level with his waist as you tried to blink up an appreciative smile.
You quite enjoyed the view, if you were completely honest. And as he straightened himself up to close the door and his gaze lingered, you wondered if Nanami enjoyed seeing you down here too.
Maybe imagined you were wearing something different, even.
Or maybe nothing at all.
But that was wishful thinking, really. No, you suspected Nanami wasn't even aware of what he was doing to you – he was simply being a gentleman.
You had been inside his cars a few times since you met him those weeks ago, letting him take you to long drives along the coast, stopping at nice restaurants you would have never been able to afford. You were growing fond of him more and more by the day, and you suspected it was a feeling he also shared.
But Nanami had never even touched you. Not a hand to your leg, nor a kiss on your cheek when you said goodbye.
What were you two doing here, if that was not what he wanted?
And it wasn't just you – you could tell Suguru got frustrated every time you came back home and told him there was nothing to tell. He tried to hide it, but you knew him well enough. A twitch of his tense jaw and a narrowing of his dark eyes, a slow huff through his nose… until Satoru came in again, and his smile returned. As if nothing had happened.
If even Satoru, who arguably knew him better than anyone, couldn't tell something was off – how easily could he lie to you?
You hated that the question was in your head, but it was there all the same.
At least you hadn't had to worry about this for the past days – because Suguru had been nowhere to be seen.
It worried you, it really did, and the anxiety was already brewing inside again; until Nanami closed the driver's seat, and his thick thighs came dangerously close to yours. Suddenly, you were back in the present again.
In here. With Nanami.
He always dressed up so nice, you noted. You loved to see how the muscle stretched the fabric of his slacks, like his body was dying to be set free just as much as you were dying to set him free of those clothes.
But still, he didn't touch you.
"I know I've already said it" he let out a small chuckle, eyes locked on yours. "But you look stunning today"
"Thank you, Kento" you smiled, feeling your cheeks grow hot. You inched just a little towards him, nothing more than adjusting yourself on the seat, but you hoped he would finally just come closer.
He didn't.
"I have something for you" he said instead. "Inside the glove compartment"
You changed your attention to where he was nodding to, opening the compartment just above your legs. It didn't take you long rummaging about to find what he was alluding to.
Inside, there was a box – green velvet, big and flat and calling to you like you had been bewitched.
You wrapped your hands around it and pulled it to your lap, too scared to move it wrong and damage it in some way. You didn't even know what was inside yet but it felt expensive – far too much for the second hand clothes you were wearing, you thought with a self consciousness that was rare from you.
But Nanami looked at you with urging eyes, a mixture of tension and eagerness in them. "This is for me?" you asked, unable to help your smile. The box alone looked like it was worth more than your rent.
"It is" he nodded. "Would you like me to open it?"
Nanami must have noticed your apprehension, or maybe he himself was more anxious about this than he was letting on. But you shook your head side to side, carefully starting to open the velvet box in your lap.
"Ken–" you gasped when it was fully open, and he let out a relieved sigh.
Inside was the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen. A simple, delicate chain, with a heavy pendant hanging from the bottom. A diamond, you could tell when you lifted it up against the light, seeing the rainbow sparkles fly.
It was nothing like the cheap, over the top jewellery you layered on at the club. No, this was sleek. Elegant.
Expensive.
"You like it?" he smiled softly, as if there was ever a world where the answer could be no.
"Like it?" you scoffed playfully. "I fucking love it"
Nanami let out a laugh at how you had forgotten yourself just there – but the excitement was too great. Your heart was beating heavy on your chest, your eyes completely hypnotised by the stone.
Had someone ever given you a gift so beautiful?
"Come here" Nanami said, in a honeyed tone that made your eyes even wider as you looked at him. You leaned in, but he only chuckled, and extended his hand towards the gift instead. "Let me"
You understood what he meant with an embarrassed oh, and turned around so he could help you try on your new necklace.
You couldn't even see him, but his presence was impossible to ignore. You felt his heat as he approached and lowered the cool stone over your chest, heard his hands fastening the chain behind you. He was so close you felt his breath on the back of your neck, and you wondered if this would be the time he would finally kiss you.
But no – he just pulled away again.
"Turn around" he instructed, and you did as he said. "Gorgeous"
Your hand came to touch the stone, feeling the sharp cold against your hot and flustered skin. "I don't have any dresses nice enough to match this" you chuckled self deprecatingly, nervous to meet his gaze.
"That's not a problem" he smiled. "Lets get you some"
Hour later, you were back in Nanami's car with your legs squished against shopping bags, and your new necklace hanging heavy from your neck. The carefreeness of the day washed over you, a smile permanently etched onto your cheeks.
Nanami made you feel so beautiful. Carefully choosing the dresses he wanted to see on you, telling you how gorgeous you looked in each, admiring you like you were a piece of art at an auction and he placed the highest bid each time.
But you had come to realise that when he really liked something you wore, Nanami hummed deep in his throat – a delicious sound that had the hairs all over your body standing up.
You desperately wanted to hear it again and again and again.
It became a little game you played. You showed off for him, moving like you had been on stage as you tried to learn all about his little reactions; and Nanami sat there, leaning back with his hands in his pockets, lips tugging upwards in an intoxicated smile.
"We'll take it" he said every time, and you laughed along.
For the first time in a long time, Suguru hadn't been on your mind at all. Hell, not much had been in your mind – not even the club, the life you actually lived when you weren't in this little pocket of heaven with him.
Kento had successfully monopolised your attention. And now that you were pulling up to your apartment, you didn't want this night to end.
"Ken" you muttered shyly, looking at him from between your long lashes. "I have really enjoyed today"
"So have I" he smiled at you, hand on your backrest as he worked on parking his expensive car. Even that had your heart racing and your legs growing weak. When the car finally came to a stop, he kept his arm right there, completely unaware of his effect on you.
He was so handsome it was unfair. Made you forget all about your dodgy street and his security parked just on the other of it.
"I enjoy seeing you smile" he said, and all poise when out the window.
It was probably not very ladylike to do what you did next, but this man had you soberly intoxicated all damn day, and now he had just pushed you over the edge.
You leaned in – hands on his face, chest to his chest – and pulled Nanami in for the kiss you had been despearte for since date number two.
He seemed surprised for half a second, but didn't pull back. If anything, you could have sworn he smiled against your lips, eagerly parting them as his big hands came to your waist.
Nanami's kiss wasn't claiming like your ex's had been, or precise like Suguru's, or sloppy like Gojo's. No, it was almost… delicate. Sensual. Like kissing meant learning more about you – and he was paying attention.
"Kento" you moaned out his name, bunching your hands on his nice shirt and making the collar all askew. He didn't mind, in fact, only kissed you deeper – pulling you closer to him so that you weren't leaning awkwardly in the tight space.
You moved one of his hands from your waist to the plush of your thigh, enjoying how he tensed before grabbing a handful of your flesh, unable to help his lust when you urged him on so sweetly.
He hummed into your lips, the stubble of his beard tickling your chin. Gods, he was delicious – easily taking control, but not being obvious about it. A true gentleman.
Nanami had made you feel so good today.
You wanted to make him feel good too.
Your other hand left his handsome face, trailing down his abdomen with all the patience in the world despite the heat between your thighs. You enjoyed how he reacted to every movement, body tensing under your touch like it electrocuted him; but at no point did he break the kiss.
You felt the swell of his chest and the tightness of his abs, exploring all those muscles you always suspected were there hiding under the nice shirts. And then, you found his trousers.
You smiled to yourself at the tent already poking at your hand, the clear indication of how much Nanami did want you. You pressed your palm into his bulge, and only then did Nanami's lips leave yours – he came to rest his head on your shoulder with a sharp exhale, your hand enough to overwhelm him.
You moved your attention to his belt as you chuckled; if this was his reaction to you touching him over his slacks, you couldn't wait to see what he looked like when you were–
"You don't have to do that" he murmured, pressing a palm over your hand to still it.
You blinked, surprised. Surely you had heard it wrong? Nanami easily untangled your hand from his belt, interlacing your fingers together instead. "What?" you asked, utterly confused.
Nanami brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles one by one. "You don't owe me that" he repeated, kissing along your wrist now, his other hand still holding on to your waist as if it was glud there.
You had no clue what was happening – when was the last time you had been rejected like this?
And, even more puzzling – by someone who seemed like couldn't keep his hands off you at the same time?
"I want to" you gulped, coming out almost like a question.
Nanami came back to kiss your lips, little tender pecks that only confused you more. "I want you too" he explained, definitely noticing how you had taken a hit to your ego. "Just not like this"
"Oh" you scrunched your eyebrows. It still wasn't quite clicking for you, but it also didn't feel…bad.
Nanami laughed, looking deep into your eyes. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen" he said, brushing your cheek softly.
You let out an exasperated chuckle, leaning into his hand. "You're not so bad yourself" you teased.
He laughed again, closing it off with another kiss. "Can I see you tomorrow?" he asked.
You smiled, uttering the obvious answer that made his lips crash back into yours, exactly where you wanted him to be.
You slowly made your way up the creaking stairs to your old apartment, dragging the shopping bags with you because you refused Nanami's help. It's not that this little interaction between you had made you insecure, far from it – it was actually… nice.
Surprisingly so.
For someone to want to know you as a person before anything else. To be infatuated by the charm you were very proud of, and still decide to wait? Yeah, it felt good. Special, even, if you ever dared to think in this way.
Nanami did want you, he just wanted more than what you had expected.
And that made your breathing all ragged with this unknown realisation that you were actually seen, cared about instead of just desired.
It was nice, wasn't it?
So, no, that wasn't the reason you didn't want Nanami following you up to your apartment. It was far more mundane than the existential thoughts swerling in your brain.
You simply didn't want him to see the old leaking walls, or the mice that hid under the floor boards. The furniture that had surely been included in the rent only because someone had died in them.
Nanami definitely lived in a nice apartment. Would he think less of you if he realised your charming exterior didn't match your physical space?
Not even you felt at home in there – home used to be Satoru's and Suguru's place, though you hadn't been there much in the last week or so.
You probably should speak to them soon. You still saw Gojo at work of course, and nothing was ever different – it was Suguru you were more worried about.
He had stopped coming to the performances, claiming he was doing some business on the other side of the country.
You couldn't quite tell if you were happy he wasn't around as much, or if you missed him more than anything.
It was strange the sort of pull Suguru Geto had on you.
The key clicked around the lock and you pushed the door open with your back, letting the heavy bags fall carefully to the old wooden floor. You let out a long sigh, your little space seeming so claustrophobic after such a lovely day. And then–
"Nice day?" a familiar voice asked.
You jumped out of your skin, tripping over the bags as you rushed to turn on the lights.
The bulb blinked twice before light finally lighting the place, revealing one of your boyfriends seating on the edge of the sofa, looking as relaxed and in control as he always did, like this was nothing out of the ordinary.
If anything, he was terribly amused by your reaction.
"Fuck, Suguru–" you panted, relieved it was just him. "How the hell did you get in here?"
"Thought it would be a nice surprise" he smiled as he walked towards you, wrapping a claiming hand around your waist.
"You have to stop doing that" you complained, referencing this annoying habit of his, but he only laughed.
You thought he would kiss you as he leaned in, and maybe he was about to – but instead, he took a long inhale, and pulled back just a little. "You smell like him" he noted. Not angry, or sad – just an observation.
You sighed, hating that he wanted to go into it so early on in this reunion.
"We went on a date" you explained, burying your face in his chest so you didn't have to look into his eyes. You suspected he would easily be able to read your mind if you did.
And you didn't want him to know what you were thinking.
"So there is something now?" he asked. You couldn't tell if he wanted you to say yes or no – maybe this was as close as you ever got to seeing Suguru jealous.
"We had a nice time" you muttered, into his dark shirt.
"I'm glad, sweetheart" Suguru whispered, smoothing the back of your hair into him. "I missed you"
There it was – those velvety words that could disarm you so easily. You tilted your head upwards, chin to his chest and watched him smile down at you. He was the same as always – charming, handsome, disarming.
But there was an anxiety brewing in your chest, mixing in with the guilt you didn't quite allow yourself to feel just yet.
When Suguru hooked a finger under your chin and pulled your lips to his, you let him. It felt nice and awful all the same, and Suguru let it linger with the patience of a lover who missed you dearly.
Or, maybe, he was just very good at playing this game.
No doubt he could taste Nanami on you too, but he didn't say anything about it. "He take you shopping?" he asked when he pulled back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Yeah" you swallowed, shifting your gaze to the bags all scattered around the floor.
"Mhm" Suguru hummed, hand coming to your neck, circling the heavy stone on your chest. "He got you this, too?"
"Yes" you pushed him off you lightly, but Suguru only held on tighter.
"You find out anything yet?" he asked, touch sweet despite the fact you wanted him to let you go. "You go to his place?"
"No" you pushed again, and this time he eased up a little.
Suguru asked these questions so easily, like there was nothing weird about it at all. Like he didn't ask you to spy on the man you were falling for, when he himself had been the one to hold that place in your heart before his odd request.
Get to know Nanami, he said, with that smooth voice that could convince you of anything. Everything had changed that night.
You had done what he asked of you, would have done anything he had asked of you, but what you found? Nanami wasn't the evil, money hungry person he had implied he was. He was nice. And a gentleman.
You doubted he would ever ask you to do something you weren't comfortable with.
"I don't want to keep doing this" you muttered, surprised you felt brave to utter these words.
Suguru squinted his eyes, like he hadn't heard you properly. He still had a hand holding on to your forearm, thumb brushing slowly across your skin in the most tender of ways. "Doing what, beautiful?" he asked, looking for your eyes.
You still refused to look at him, but his touch felt good. "Telling you about Nanami" you explained, voice small. "I like him"
It sounded as pitiful as you had expected.
Silence hung between you. For a second. Then two.
"You like him?" Suguru repeated finally, the slightest amout of condescencion dripping from his tone. His hand had tightened around you, but not enough to hurt. Was he really this shocked you could fall for somebody else?
"Yeah" you repeated, finally looking into his eyes. "He's kind to me"
You never thought you had seen Suguru look speechless.
"Because he buys you things?" he scoffed, lifting up the heavy pendant with no regard for it. You pulled your hands back, snatching it from him with a scowl. "Are you really that easy?"
"What did you just say?" you snapped, head growing hot with anger.
"You're smarter than this" he rolled his eyes, backing away from you to pace around your apartment.
You didn't even know what feeling was strongest inside you right now. Anger? Guilt?
Who the fuck was this person speaking to you like this?
"I think you should leave" you growled, crossing your arms to protect yourself. Your necklace. Your pride.
He finally looked a little like the Suguru you knew again. "Baby, listen–"
"Don't"
"Listen" he put his hands up, begging for a truce. "You like him – that's great. I'm glad you do, sweetheart. It makes it easier, doesn't it?"
You scoffed at his sudden attitude switch, but didn't walk back when he moved towards you again.
"You don't need to do anything you don't want to" he reassured. "I'm just asking for little things, details, just information–"
You rolled your eyes, making him grimace in front of you. Damn Suguru Geto, always telling you everything and nothing at all.
It reminded you of your ex, all of a sudden.
Why the hell did you continue to get involved with men you knew were lying to you?
"Why?" you interrupted his explanations, challenging him instead.
"Why what?"
"Why do you need to know these things?" you finally said it, the question you should have asked that night. "What are you planning?"
"Baby" he sighed. "I'm not planning anything, there's other people involved, guys who came into town today and–"
You finally began to understand a little about what was making him so anxious.
"What guys?" you interrupted.
Suguru visibly tensed. "I can't tell you that" he swallowed. "I don't want to get you in trouble"
Your stupid heart did beat faster at his words, and you hated that you believe him.
But it still didn't make any of this better.
"Are you going to hurt him?" you swallowed, hating there were tears prickling at your eyelashes. The thought terrified you, and the fact you could have anything to do with it even more so.
"Hey" Suguru soothed, stepping in to comfort you. "You think I could really hurt anyone?" he asked, and it sounded so convincing.
You thought back to all the nice evenings you had spent together. Curling in bed between him and Satoru. Exchanging good morning kisses. His smile when he praised you after a performance, when he told you how beautiful you were.
Could Suguru hurt someone?
"I… I don't know" you bit your bottom lip, torn.
"I'm sorry I upset you" he whispered against your hair. He was so nice and warm.
But so was Nanami. And you knew that whatever he was planning – Nanami didn't deserve it.
"I don't want to do it" you said to his chest, giving your final answer. "I'm sorry, Sugu"
You hoped he'd pull you in closer and softly shush you, telling you it was fine. But no – Suguru tensed next to you, his soft caresses stopping.
Your heart broke along with his composure.
"You can't back away now" he stated, matter of fact.
"What do you mean?" you looked up, but his gaze was locked on the far wall.
Suguru pulled back from you finally, looking at the floor with a knuckle to his lips. He was nervous. There was something he wasn't telling you, something serious.
"I mean– fuck" he brushed two hands through his long hair. "I mean it would really help if you just told me"
This was a side of him you had never seen.
Suguru was desperate.
"What have you done, Sugu?" you asked, suddenly very worried for him. "I can help, whatever it is, me and Satoru–"
He flinched at the mention of his roommate, probably the one person that meant the most to him. "You can help" he agreed with a humourless chuckle. "Where does he live?" he pressed on.
You swallowed at his sudden change again. "I don't know where he lives" you told the truth.
Suguru laughed, clearly not believing you. "He's buying you all this and you haven't even fucked?" he mocked. "Don't tell me you do it in his nice car"
Your hand lifted and landed right across his handsome cheek, the sound of that slap reverberating all through your small apartment.
You were shocked at yourself – but even more so at him.
He deserved every bit of that and more, you decided.
This time when you looked at him, there was no urge to protect him from whatever hole he had dug for himself.
You just needed him to leave.
Suguru held his head there for a second, tongue lapping at the bottom lip you had just struck. He laughed a little, surprised, desperate – but remained silent.
So you took it as your turn to speak.
"Get out" you ordered him.
Your eyes briefly met as Suguru considered what to do next. He didn't look angry, no – Suguru looked terrified.
He didn't spare you another glance as he left your apartment.
A/N we are in act 2 now, everyone strap in! very excited for the next chapter in particular hehe as always, love hearing your thoughts <33
The bedroom is entirely silent, illuminated only by the warm glow of the bedside lamp on his side of the bed. It’s late, well past midnight, and Sukuna’s propped up against the pillows in nothing but boxers, holding a book open in his right hand, completely at ease, while the other is trapped beneath your weight.
Sprawled shamelessly across his side, your cheek pressed right over his ribs, you let your body go limp while your mind refuses to follow suit. Restlessness creeps in, your thoughts racing in circles, dredging up problems just for the sake of having something to gnaw on. The silence makes your thoughts feel way too loud, twisting a thin, ridiculous thread of worry out of nothing at all.
Your eyes drift over the page of his book without taking in a single word, and before you can stop yourself, the question tumbles out into the dim room, your voice barely above a whisper and oddly hesitant.
"You ever think I'm too clingy? Like... you ever wish I gave you more space?"
Sukuna freezes beneath your cheek, every muscle going rigid. After a moment, he drops his book onto the nightstand, tilting his head down, crimson eyes blown wide with pure, flat-out bewilderment. He stares at you, genuinely trying to figure out if he heard you right, like you’ve suddenly started speaking a completely foreign language.
"What the fuck kind of question is that?" he asks, his gravelly voice dropping into a low, stunned rumble that cuts right through the quiet air. He shifts under you, eyebrow cocked, shooting you a look like you’ve just sprouted horns. "Where the hell is this coming from? Who put that stupid shit in your head?"
"Dunno," you mumble, heat creeping up your cheeks as the words hang in the air, sounding even more absurd now that they’re out. Your fingers fidget with a stray thread on the duvet, eyes glued to the fabric. "My brain’s just being an asshole tonight."
A deep, exasperated scoff rumbles out of your husband, but the tightness in his jaw softens almost immediately, replaced by a raw, unguarded fondness that settles over his face.
“Woman, have you been paying attention to me at all these past few years? Seriously, think for one fucking second, idiot." The command comes out rough, but there’s no bite to it, just a lot of tired fondness. He jerks his chin at the bed, making you actually look at the state of things. "Look at you. You’re basically glued to my side, I can’t even move my damn arm. You’re in my shirt, you stole my socks, and your freezing-ass hand is between my thighs. If I wanted space, trust me, you’d be on the floor."
A tiny, involuntary giggle slips out of you, but he’s not finished. His hand squeezes your waist as he shifts beneath you just enough to remind you how much bigger he is.
“I’m a grown-ass man. I’m stronger than you,” he goes on, his voice rumbling right through his chest and into your cheek. "If I wanted to move, I'd move. But you? You’re glued to me every fucking day, stealing my personal space since day one. You climb on me when I’m trying to read, treat me like a mattress—and I never stop you. Ever think that’s because I want you there?”
His hand comes up, large and rough, calloused fingers curling gently beneath your chin, tipping your face toward his. Shadows flicker across his features, but his eyes lock onto yours with a fierce, protective devotion that knocks the breath right out of you.
“I agreed to that stupid ‘hear me out’ cake just to hear you laugh,” he rumbles, shaking his head, and at last, a wide grin splits his face. “I drove across the city so you could look at ducks. Does that sound like a man who wants less of you? Your brain’s being a dick. Tell it to shut up.”
“…fair,” you admit quietly, and the heavy, tangled knot of overthinking in your chest finally starts to unravel under the weight of his logic.
“Actually, hold the fuck on,” Sukuna growls, moving from underneath you to lean over you, completely wrapping you in his bulk. “You think you’re the clingy one?”
Caught completely off guard by the sudden intensity in his voice, you blink up at him.
“I call you every fucking day, or you’d forget to eat,” he starts, not giving you a chance to interrupt, his eyes locking onto yours. "Started doing that stupid skincare with you. Hid roses around the apartment just so you’d smile all day. Crawled under a fucking car because you wanted a cat. I panic if you’re not in bed, can’t fall back asleep till you’re back in my arms. Let you tank my fucking CS rank ‘cause apparently you gotta touch my arm every six seconds. And you think I want more space? You think I’d still be here doing all that shit if you were too much for me?”
You stay completely silent, your mouth parting slightly as you stare at him, your heart hammering against your ribs from the weight of everything he’s just said. He, on the other hand, is looking at you like you’re absolutely hopeless.
“Use your goddamn brain, woman,” Sukuna murmurs with a crooked grin, his deep voice thick with fondness. “Who’s actually clingy in this relationship? I’ve been chasing after you for years…” He trails off, clicks his tongue, then reluctantly admits, “…like a fucking idiot.”
Whatever heavy, stupid fog was clouding your mind finally lifts, swept away by a rush of pure warmth. A bright smile breaks across your face as your hands slide up his bare chest, arms winding tight around his neck to pull him down into a deep, lingering kiss.
Sukuna lets out a satisfied chuckle against your lips as he pulls back just slightly, crimson eyes gleaming with mischief. "Understood?"
A breathless laugh escapes you, your chest still fluttery with relief. "Yeah. Thanks, Kuna." You kiss him again, softer this time, lips lingering on his. When you pull away, you can’t help but smile, teasing, "And it’s definitely you."
He groans, dropping his head onto your shoulder with a dramatic sigh. "Don’t start, brat."
a/n: okay, so this happened because someone asked me to write about insecurities, and that ask somehow sent me down a completely different rabbit hole. i started thinking about the difference between insecurities and your brain just deciding to be an absolute asshole for one evening and… well, this happened.
dunno, maybe it's because my previous adhd meds used to make me overthink once they wore off, and it'd always be the most ridiculous stuff i'd never question in a million years otherwise.
mdni - your boyfriend Sugu sharing you with Toru <3
You were grinding on your boyfriend Suguru's cock on the couch, sleepy with little whines, having half fallen asleep in his lap during the movie you all had on.
"Mnh, Sugu..." you were gasping out. Too sleepy to realize your roomie and best friend Satoru was right there, blushing.
Oh, Suguru knows- he just didn't care, not when you feel that good. He already knows Satoru wants you, he'd walked by him as he jerked his cock mumbling your name.
You feel too good grinding on him not to grip your ass, moaning in your ear -
"Princess, Toru is right there," you had bit your lip, pretty, fucked out eyes looking right at Satoru Gojo, who was blushing in the dark, the TV light casting shadows on his face.
"Toru," you mumble, rolling your hips again, lashes fluttering shut. "I'm sorry, feels s'good and..."
"It's okay... " he mumbles, his cock leaking sticky precum against his boxers, as he hears the rustle of clothing, the sound of Suguru’s cock rutting your panty-clad pussy, the slight motion of his hips.
Satoru almost cums just from hearing your sleepy little whine, you can see his cock straining underneath his pajama pants, making his gut clench up.
Fuck he wants to feel you - any of you - the amount of times Satoru has listened to you both fuck is obscene.
"Oh," You blush, leaning to whisper in Suguru’s ear. "He is um...he's so..."
"Why wouldn't he be hard? Pretty little thing right here," Sugruru tugs your top down as his breath ghosts your skin, showing one of your cute nipples right for Satoru to see, who bites down on his plump lower lip. "Look at her, isn't she pretty?"
"Very pretty," Satoru's words are strained, adjusting his cock to see your lips part, your eyes darting to that bulge.
"Why wouldn't he be hard? Pretty tits right for him to see," Sugruru sighs, leaning back and tugging your panties aside, eyeing your slick, messy cunt. "Do you like him here, princess? Watching?"
You do - but you're sleepy, embarrassed, so wet and horny it's painful. "Toru do you... does it..."
"I uh.. " he sighs, running a hand over his cock and wincing at how bad it's straining. "I can go take care of this. Or..."
"Or I could?" You peek at Suguru, who had you lifted, his fat cock nudging your slick hole, that piercing catching your twitchy clit. "Mnh! Sugu..."
"You wanna make Toru feel better?"
You nod, blushing then.
"He did have a bad break up."
"Toru!" You pout. "You didn't tell me..."
"Yeah," as if Satoru wasn't picturing you arched in front of him when he hit it from the back. You look all sweet, all concerned, before Suguru glides right in your cunt, and your eyes roll back in your skull, stretching you out without any play you're so wet.
"S-Sugu! Ah!"
Satoru tugs out his cock, thick and veiny, watching that mess of slick drool down his best friend as h e leans back. Satoru can't help but whine out as he stares at you, riding his best friend's cock, his own hand tentatively brushing your cheek, leaning close as his friend pummels your cervix.
"So pretty," he whispers, feeling your blush heat your skin, you lean close, your eyes all sleepy as Satoru strokes his own cock.
"Can I taste you?" He almost cums from that damn question.
"Yes! I mean... yeah..." He eagerly swipes some of his precum, slipping it between your lips as Suguru bottoms out. You suck Satoru's milky cum off his thumb while you whine out, cheeks hollowed.
"Wanna suck his cock, Princess?" Suguru asks, it's hard to speak looking at you like this, when you turn back and he sees his friend's cum on your lips, he can't help but flick his tongue against them, tasting it and moaning, his cock pulsing inside.
"Yes... please..." You cry out when Suguru pulls out with a mess falling, laughing at just how wet you are.
"Then get on your knees for us."
You eagerly obey, knees sinking into the cushions of the couch, mouth open and eager to take Satoru's pink tip, you feel his hands grip your hair tight, hear his gasp. "Oh f-fuck... your mouth is s'good, sweetheart..."
"Isn't it?" Suguru asks, lining his tip back up and filling you, all while you look up at Toru whose glasses are fogging with his breaths, his hands trembling just a bit when they pull too hard, making you whine around his cock, pretty tip soft like velvet on your little tongue.
"M'sorry... too rough I..."
"She loves it," Suguru murmurs, gripping your waist to drag you down his cock, his balls smacking your neglected clit, shoving Satoru's cock so deep you choke around it. "Don't you, baby?"
"Mmm," you pull back with a messy pop, lips coated in spit. "I do."
Satoru thinks he's in love with his best friend's girl once she makes his goddamn cock dissappear - all eight inches, too, nose nestled against the little light smattering of white hair. You're drooling down his heavy balls, tight and ready to pump you full - as him and his best friend take turns fucking your holes, using your body between them faster and faster.
Satoru doesn't make it long, he pulls back and sucks in a breath, but the way your throat is reflexively pulsing while Suguru pounds your messy cunt is too fucking good.
"S-sweetheart... m'close...." He goes to pull back when you grip his thigh, nails pressing into the bare muscle where his pants are shoved down, looking all lovingly and pretty up at him.
"She loves swallowing," Suguru says, all proud of you clearly, his cock slamming inside so deep it kisses your cute lil cervix. His long hair falls against your skin as he hovers over you, fingertips trailing down your spine, while Satoru's whimpering. "Go ahead and show him how good you take it. You're such a good girl like this, isn't she?"
"She i-is," Satoru tries to pull back, worried about hurting your throat with the flood of cum about to pour from his pink tip, but you suck harder, lips wrapping so goddamn pretty, he moans your name, head falling forward, gripping your hair till he's pulling at the strands.
You do love to swallow, and Satoru is salty but somehow there's a little sweetness, it coats your mouth as you gulp, shattering around Suguru's length that's curving just write, piercing dragging on your sweet spot just so, till you're a gushing little mess between them.
Suguru's following Satoru, pumping your cunt so damn full it's already trying to spill out with it, white coating your spread wide lips. He leans back to watch, groaning as he slowly fucks it back into you, and Satoru eases out, cupping your face and damn near collapsing on the couch.
"Feel better about the breakup?" You whisper, he moans and gives you a little nod, leaning down as Suguru pulls you up to your knees, wrapping an arm around your waist, kissing up your neck.
"Much better," Satoru leans forward and kisses himself off you, blushing. "S'that okay?"
"I just swallowed your cum, you can kiss me," Suguru snorts, but you find it adorable when he kisses you again and again, moaning as Suguru's release pours down your inner thighs, and Satoru's fingers slide down, shoving it back on. He's filthy with it as he licks his own cum off your tongue, and Suguru's lips are just a breath away from Gojo's.
"Could we share her, Sugu? Pretty please?"
"We just did-"
"No like... be my girlfriend too?" He's all pouty and cute, but Suguru scowls, tugging you back, just for Satoru to finger more cum in your sore cunt, his cock already throbbing and hard again. "I said please!"
"No!?"
"You never shared when we were kids, you're selfish!"
They bicker as they fuck you again, until you're so full of both their cum in all three holes that you give up and go to sleep.
*****
we already know when I'm horny I write satosugu filth lol
︵ ೀ mdni. so the rumors are true, frat boy!satoru really is stupidly big
you swear you’d never end up here.
you swear on your GPA, your future, and your last remaining brain cell that you would never hook up with a frat boy. never. especially not satoru gojo.
yet here you are, in his messy room that looks like the last time he did laundry was during the obama administration, staring at six-foot-four of naked, insanely sculpted frat boy while he stands there like a proud exhibit at the penis museum.
his body is ridiculous. broad shoulders tapering into a narrow waist, every muscle carved from years of whatever sports he plays when he isn’t throwing ragers. pale skin that somehow still looks sun-kissed across his chest and shoulders, faint tan lines from sleeveless practice jerseys. a happy trail of soft white hair leads down from his abs—abs you could spend hours running your tongue over—straight to the main event.
and god… the main event.
thick, heavy, and already flushed dark at the tip, it curves slightly upward with an intimidating girth that makes your stomach flip. it bobs as he shifts his weight, veins standing out along the shaft.
“that,” you say, “is never gonna fit.”
satoru’s snowy white hair falls messily over his forehead as he grins, those bright blue eyes sparkling. “nah, it’ll fit. i’ll make it fit.” he wraps a large hand around himself, giving one slow stroke that makes your mouth go dry. “trust me.”
“it’s not gonna fit. this thing is massive. like… i’m actually concerned for my internal organs.”
“uhm. thanks?” he looks stupidly pleased, a faint blush creeping up his neck. the cocky frat boy actually blushes at the compliment. it is almost endearing.
almost.
he climbs onto the bed and up close he smells exactly like you imagine—expensive cologne, faint beer, and warm skin. his body is hot against yours as he settles between your thighs, muscular arms on either side of your head.
when he leans down to kiss you, it is surprisingly soft at first and then hungry, tongue teasing yours while one big hand slides down your side to squeeze your hip.
you gasp when his fingers find you already slick. he groans low in his throat. “fuck, you’re so wet for me already…”
two long fingers press in, stretching you carefully, and something tells you he knows exactly how big he is because he takes his time, watching your face with hooded eyes, murmuring praise against your neck.
“that’s it… relax for me, pretty girl.”
by the time he lines himself up, you are trembling with nerves and want. he pushes forward—slow, so slow. the blunt, thick head presses against your entrance, hot and heavy. you feel every inch of that first stretch, the burn of it making you whimper.
“is it in already?” you breathe after a few seconds.
satoru lets out a strangled laugh, forehead dropping to yours. “it’s only the tip, baby.”
“only the tip?!” you are going to die. you are so going to die. the pressure is already insane—full, overwhelming, deliciously too much. you can feel the heat of him, the slight throb, the way your body tries so hard to adjust around him.
he pushes forward another inch and you both moan. sweat beads on his forehead, sliding down his temples. his abs tighten with every shallow thrust, that white happy trail brushing against your stomach.
“shit—you’re so tight,” he hisses. “feels so fucking good… but i don’t wanna hurt you.”
you grip at his biceps, nails digging into hard muscle. “you’re huge, satoru. has anyone ever told you that?”
“yeah. you—like five times already.”
“because i feel like i’m being split open by a damn baseball bat!”
he chokes on a laugh, hips stuttering. the movement pushes him a little deeper and your eyes flutter shut at the overwhelming fullness. every tiny shift sends sparks through you—the drag of his thickness, the way he fills you so completely it feels like he is touching places no one ever has.
“stop making me laugh,” he whines, but he is grinning. “you’re gonna make me slip and then we’ll both be in trouble.”
“slip?! if you slip any more we’re gonna have to call an ambulance.”
“god, i like you. this is the least sexy sex i’ve ever had and i’m having the best time.”
another clumsy, careful thrust. he bottoms out halfway and has to pause, breathing hard, forehead pressed to yours. his cock twitches inside you, so hot and heavy you whimper. one of his hands slides down to rub slow circles over your clit, trying to help you relax while his body stays tense with restraint.
“you’re doing so good. taking me so pretty… look at you.”
you are equal parts mortified and insanely turned on. this is the clumsiest, most awkward sex you have ever had—full of giggles and curses and satoru’s muttered coaching (“easy, big guy, she’s tiny”)—and somehow it is perfect.
he kisses you again, messy and sweet, then rocks forward once more. “still regret coming home with me?” he teases, lips brushing your ear.
you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him just a little deeper, and laugh breathlessly. “ask me again when you’re actually all the way in, gojo.”
Gojo Satoru likes seeing you cry. Whether it’s over a derivative you can’t solve, or it’s on his cock, he’s not complaining.
“Don’t hide your face, sweets,” he hisses through gritted teeth, his thick, weeping tip nudging against the spot that makes you squirm on his sheets. “Wanna see your face while I ruin you.”
He’s normally not so barbaric—working you open on his tongue or fingers before giving you what you want—but he seems to be adamant on making a point today. Which you’ve concluded is don’t ask another guy for study tips.
“I d-didn’t mean anything by it,” you bite out, mind in a dizzying spell as he stretches your sappy cunt out over and over. “Suguru’s just really good with the arts, okay?”
His pace stutters, and you’re pretty certain his eye twitches behind his fogged-up glasses. “What? You guys are on a first-name basis now?”
Fuck. He’s delirious, and you’ve made it worse.
He doesn’t even let you explain yourself—dark green jealousy coursing through his veins like molten lava. His palms, rough and firm, encircle your ankles and fold you until it nearly hurts. He glides in again without any resistance, your cunt practically pulsing his name, and then he begins slamming into you.
“Fuck!” you moan out, air punched from your lungs with each thrust. Gojo watches you take it, your lewd face twisting up in utter pain and bliss, frosted irises blown wide in unadulterated desire.
“Suguboo’s not the one who gets you like t-this,” he babbles out, practically seething while he works to rearrange your guts. “Pussy leaking all over my sheets. Choking out my name.” He punctuates each sentence with a deep stroke, pushing you up the bed, your head nearly knocking against his headboard.
He doesn’t even care that his roommates could hear, that Geto could come home any moment now and listen to his best friend degrade you.
Your mouth forms a pretty O, noiseless as your chest begins to cave inwards, your orgasm rapidly approaching. His thumb finds your clit, before he’s spitting on the engorged bundle of nerves and painting circles against it until you see stars.
You scream out his name with a final thrust, fingers fisted in his sheets as you shudder and gush white all over his cock. Your eyes roll back in euphoria as he spills inside of you with a groan of your name, higher-pitched than he was hoping, stuffing you to the brim.
Collapsing on top of you, you both work to catch your breath, coming down from your high.
“I don’t know how I feel about being a tool in your sex-life.”
You both direct your gaze to the door, propped open with Geto standing there. Smug, munching on a banana, his freehand casually slid in his pocket.
Gojo stutters, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at his best friend and missing by a longshot.
Your eyes are dewy and you’re still tamping down on your head rush, but you don’t complain when Geto walks in and shuts the door behind him.
ა ˙˖ summary → there’s no one you hate more than satoru gojo. he’s arrogant and entirely too full of himself. when you agree to be strictly enemies with benefits, gojo takes this as the perfect opportunity to finally make you his.
ა ˙˖ content: 10.7k wc, accurate portrayal of fraternities so the boys are jerks srry, hazing, rough sex, mentions of blood, overstimulation, spanking, choking, desperate gojo, oral sex (both receive), jealous reader, mentions of terrible parents, some fluff, some angst
frat!jo 𝓍 fem!reader
chapter one chapter three
It was an undeniable fact that you were drunk on Gojo’s cock.
In the weeks since you started this arrangement, you fucked almost every day. Your excuse was that you were simply researching for your project, running experiments and proving theories wrong and right.
You were like two magnets that couldn’t resist each other despite your very different personalities and while you still couldn’t see yourself ever being anything other than possibly acquaintances, you would be lying if you said you didn’t warm up to him a smidge.
At least when he was between your legs.
“Satoru, haah, oh fuck!”
You cried as Gojo ate you like you were his last meal, his tongue lapping at your pussy in fast strokes, your back arching off your bed with his white locks gripped tight in your hands.
You hadn’t been able to keep your word and find someone more “digestable” to help satisfy your needs, you hadn’t really even tried when you had him fucking you into forgetting. Only Gojo was becoming more clingy, pestering you to go on a date with him and kissing you more than you cared to admit you enjoyed.
And while you were able to tolerate him in small doses when you weren’t fucking, your stance still stood: you and fratboys didn’t mix, Gojo was hardly the exception and that only extended to sex.
“Such a good girl.” he grumbles, plunging two fingers inside your hole while his tongue worked your clit in fast, relentless circles. You were already close, your walls fluttering around his fingers as he curled them, hitting that sweet spot inside of you.
“You t-talk too much.”
Gojo laughs against your pussy, hot breath blowing on you and pushing you closer to the edge. You gasp when he sucks hard on your clit, electric shocks shooting from the tip of your fingers to the bottom of your toes, body moving up the bed when his hands grab onto your hips and pulls you back down, his face pressed against your heat as he starts sucking you faster and finger fucking you deeper.
“I’m- oh god, fuck Toru, m’gonna-” Your nails are clawing at the sheets as your orgasm ripped through you, words dissolving into a broken moan as you came, your pussy clenching around his fingers, juices dripping down his chin.
Gojo didn’t stop. He kept licking you through the aftershock until you were a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him. Only then did he pull back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and grinning at you.
Fuck him. Fuck his stupid, smug face.
“Look at you.” He says while climbing over your body, still completely dressed in his football clothes, his face shining where he failed to wipe, your arousal mocking you for still sleeping with him a month later. “All glowing and satisfied, my perfect girl.”
You panted, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you glared up at him, spreading your legs wider so he could fit between them. “I still h-hate you, asshole.”
Gojo knew you hated the nicknames he called you and yet he refused to stop. You even had to discipline him once when he called you “love”, going a few days without speaking to him though you’re still not sure if that hurt him more or you, what with your high sex drive.
“Mmm.” He presses his forehead to yours and quickly pecks your lips, his hard-on pressing against your thigh through his shorts. “Now it’s my turn.”
His mouth dropped to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave you yet another hickey you’d have to explain to your friends who were under the impression you weren’t seeing anyone since you dropped your last guy.
You barely had time to process it before he was moving his head back up and kissing you again, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You sunk into it, arms wrapping around his neck and forgetting once again about your little no kissing rule. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your tits, pinching your nipples, before sliding down to grip your ass.
Gojo grinds his hard length into you and you moan into his mouth, your pussy clenching and begging for more.
Just as he was about to take his shirt off, a knock came from the door and made you both freeze, your eyes widening in a panic. Fuck, if anyone knew Gojo was in here you’d never hear the end of it.
"Oi!" Shoko's voice echoed through the hallway and it sent your pulse racing. "Open up! I forgot my key again!"
“Closet, now.” You practically hiss, pushing him off of you so you can stand and dress yourself. You were bouncing around the room, jumping into your pajama shorts and shoving Gojo toward the closet, your heart in your ass because the last thing you needed was your friend finding out you had been screwing her friend that you claimed to hate..
Of course, being the insufferable man that he was, Gojo simply took it as a joke and tried to kiss you as you opened the door and pushed him into the closet full of yours and Shoko’s clothes. You pushed his face away with a nasty glare, your cheeks flushed and thighs sticky with your release and his spit.
"You’re seriously gonna stuff me in a clos-"
You shoved him back and slammed the door in his face.
"Coming!" You quickly press down your shirt and smooth out your shorts and hair before moving to open the door for your roommate, praying she wouldn’t notice your messy hair and flushed cheeks and put two and two together.
Most of all you hoped Gojo would keep his fucking mouth shut. Bringing him here had been a terrible idea but he was already on campus when you texted him and you were horny now and didn't want to drive back to his place.
When you finally open the door, Shoko is standing on the other side with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows scrunched together. You smile awkwardly and pull the door further open so she can pass through.
“Sorry. Left my keys in the psych building.”
You clear your throat and smile, closing the door and following her further into the room while pretending like vomit wasn't rising in your throat and your heart wasn’t trying to escape your ribcage.
"What were you doing anyways?" Shoko asks, pushing past you with suspicion written on her face. "I was standing out there for like three minutes."
"Sorry, I was.." You paused, willing your voice to not sound so high pitched, pulling your rising shirt down. "I was in the bathroom."
It’s obvious she doesn’t believe you with the way she’s looking at you, studying your face and looking you up and down and you want to die. How embarrassing would it be to get caught with Gojo of all people after complaining about his existence since freshman year?
“Hm, you look flushed.”
“Yeah, just.. uhm- I just was working out”
Shoko rolls her eyes and starts to look around her side of the room, giving you a second to look at the closet and make sure Gojo didn't decide that he did in fact hate you after all and expose himself.
The door was still closed. At this rate you would be the one to expose yourself by panicking over nothing.
“Were you masturbating?”
Your friend's words have you snapping your head toward her, hair flying in your burning face. No Shoko, I wasn’t masturbating. My enemy just gave me a mind shattering orgasm on his tongue alone and would have done it again if you didn’t interrupt. Any more questions?
Is what you wanted to say, but instead you swallow your annoyance and stick with: ‘No, what makes you ask that?”
"Your face is basically glowing, your hair's messed up, and you took forever to open the door." Shoko shrugged. "I'm just saying, if you were, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone does it. I do it. It's healthy."
Then, for a reason you’d never understand, Gojo decided that now was the best time to laugh. It was low, barely audible but loud enough to make Shoko look toward it with scrunched eyebrows.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! You were going to kill that six foot idiot. What the fuck was he thinking? You were a shaky, sweating mess when your friend turned to look at you, her eyes burning holes through your face.
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
She gestures wildly with her arms and nods past you, obviously annoyed at your decision to play dumb. “The noise from the closet! Do you have someone over?”
“I-” You swallow hard, fingers digging into your nails as you try to find a way out of this.
You obviously weren’t going to tell her it was Gojo, but if you did tell her you were hiding someone then she’d never stop trying to figure out who it was. It would be a nightmare and you would have to be twenty times more careful with Gojo or cut off your arrangement before you were able to find a replacement.
Either way, you were fucked.
“Yes.” You huff out, hoping she doesn’t push further and ask who it is but before she can respond, you’re speaking again in an attempt to distract her. "How was the library? Did you finish your paper?"
Shoko stared at the closet for a few more seconds then decided it wasn't worth investigating. She, thankfully, had never really been a noisy girl and you were grateful that she was your roommate instead of Yuki who would have ripped the door open herself.
"Almost. I need another hour, but I forgot my charger and my laptop's at six percent."
When she finally left, you stomped your way to the closet and yanked it open. You were beyond seething, ears on fire from embarrassment and annoyed that you had to tell Shoko you were in fact seeing someone when you wanted this to be left in the dark.
Gojo was wedged between clothes and a shoe rack, his hair slightly disheveled, grinning like a fucking idiot. You wanted to kill him.
“That was close.” He grabs your hip and walks you backwards, trying to kiss at your neck but you’re having any of it, placing your hands at his chest and shoving.
“What?” Gojo frowns at you and gives you his best puppy eyes but it only makes you want to hit him more. You cross your arms to stop yourself, head tilted back so you can look up at him.
“It was ‘close’ because of you! I told you to be quiet and you couldn’t even do that. I should end this right here since you’re apparently a child.”
That wiped the smirk off his face and he was stepping closer, grabbing onto your arm to pull you forward and you let him this time. His hands find your waist again and rub circles on your exposed skin, your body shivering in response.
“It won’t happen again, I promise.” He lets his fingers creep under your shirt, moving higher. “Now where were we?”
“Nowhere. We’re done.”
“Oh come on. I’m literally in pain, don’t leave me with blue balls, princess.” He pulls you flush against his chest but you push back, ignoring every instinct telling you that one quickie wouldn’t hurt.
“No Gojo. I have to work in an hour. I need to shower, eat and get across campus, we’re done here. Go home and figure it out.”
He pouts but you’ve seen enough, leaving him to figure it out as you move toward the bathroom and close the door behind you. You were still pissed at him but even more mad at yourself for still wanting him to fuck you after he almost blew your cover to Shoko. You didn’t really have work today but a cold shower and time to yourself was needed.
“I’ll pay you double whatever your job would.” His voice comes from behind the door, clearly not ready to give up.
Your hand stopped above the shower knob, turning to face the door in disbelief. "What?"
"Your job, sweetheart. Whatever you'd make tonight, times it by two, or three, whatever you want. Just call out and let me stay a little longer."
"Are you serious right now?” You blink, a mix of frustration and amusement coursing through you. “I'm not a prostitute, Gojo."
He doesn’t respond for a minute and just when you think he’s gone, he opens his mouth again. "You're not. I'm just saying your time is worth something, and I'm offering to compensate you for it."
You actually laugh at that, leaning your head against the bathroom door and fighting the urge to scream. "That is literally what a prostitute is."
"Semantics, it's also what a consultant is."
You open the door, deadpanning the too tall frat president, and point to the front entrance.
"Get. Out."
Later that day Gojo was sitting at some shitty bar with his friends, trying to drown out his emotions that were determined to consume him whole.
The same thought has been nagging him for the past two weeks. It wasn’t something he admitted to anyone outside of you, but he had been thinking of leaving his fraternity. Would his father be happy? Probably not. Did Gojo care? Not anymore. He hadn’t even intended on getting into a frat until his father told him he had already signed up on his first day.
Now here he was, a senior, making his own money as an employee of his family business and desperately trying to find a way out of this without blowing up his life. He never wanted to be president but it was another thing that was expected of him so he did it with a forced smile and he never regretted anything more in his life.
Before you came along, Gojo could get any girl he wanted. He never had to work hard to get laid, never cared for relationships either until you humbled him in front of his frat brothers and he just knew he had to have you.
He tried to win your favor over the next two years but when you weren’t avoiding him, you were reminding him just how much you hate frat boys and that he wasn’t your type. So imagine his surprise when you agreed to his proposal of enemies with benefits, though he truthfully had never hated you.
Gojo was trying to be better. Hosting less parties and letting Sukuna and the others take over more, drinking only once or twice a week, focusing more on school work to impress you and even wearing his glasses more and dressing in those nerdy clothes he knew you liked.
People questioned his new sense of style, his friends grew concerned over his lack of involvement and Gojo grew more desperate with each rejection from you. He just needed one date to show you that he can be the guy you deserved, why couldn’t you see the effort he’d been putting in?
While it was obvious you didn’t hate him like you used to, he still was miles away from becoming your friend let alone your boyfriend. Most people would have taken a hint by now, but Satoru Gojo was not most people. He only grew more motivated, determined to show you that he was worthy of being loved back.
“You look miserable."
Gojo looks up from his drink to find Suguru staring at him over the rim of his drink, his dark eyes searching for answers that he wasn’t willing to give. If Gojo told anyone about your relationship, he’d be violating your trust and he was sure he’d lose you forever. He wasn’t going to do that to satisfy his friend's curiosity.
So he simply shrugs and takes another shot, trying to wipe the image of your smile from his head.
“Fuck off.” Gojo picks up a new glass and tries to take a shot but Sukuna snatches it before he can and stretches his arm to keep it away, not at all bothered by the death glare his friend gave him.
“He’s been a pussy since he caught feelings for someone he knows hates him.” He tosses it back.
What? You never said he couldn’t tell people he liked you.
“Drink piss, you overgrown carebear. She doesn’t hate me.” While he knew it wasn’t completely the truth, he let himself live in his delusions. What was the saying? Fake it until you make it. He was simply manifesting your future together.
“Maybe I should shoot my shot, she’s nice enough to me.”
Suguru’s words have Gojo instantly fuming, snapping his head in his friend's direction and wondering if his smug smile is how you view him when he’s teasing you.
“The fuck? You’d actually do that?"
Suguru simply shrugs, unfazed. "Why not? If she’s into me, then you know she’s not into you and you can move on. If she’s not? Well, then it turns out we’re both losers." He took a slow sip, eyes never leaving Gojo’s face. "Might even be fun to see how desperate you get. How about a little friendly competition, huh Satoru?”
Gojo’s jaw clenched, biting his tongue to stop himself from something he’d regret. Something close to: Doubt she’d even look at you when she’s too busy bouncing on my dick.
The thought of Suguru, with his stupidly perfect smile and raven hair the girls loved, making a move on you made his stomach twist. He knew his friend could pull it off. Half the girls on campus already had a crush on him and you weren’t really his girlfriend, you could do whatever you wanted.
But Gojo was never one to back down, holding Suguru’s gaze and shrugging. He would just have to work harder, spend more time with you because there was no way in hell he was going to let anyone else, let alone his childhood friend, have you.
“Why did you join a frat anyways?”
You asked Gojo, looking up from your laptop and across the table. Gojo was wearing his glasses again and you had to keep squeezing your thighs together. That’s not what you were here for. You both had decided to get in a quick study session before the first game of the season, where he'd be playing and you’d be cheering.
It’s been some weeks since you started your arrangement and in that time, you’d been fucking almost everyday and spending most nights at his place under the guise that it was easier studying wise.
“Wasn’t by choice, princess.” His jaw clenched, hand squeezing around the pencil he had been holding, knuckles turning white from the force.
You wanted to laugh at that but you had never seen Gojo show true anger before and figured now wasn’t the best time for that. You still weren’t going to let up though.
“How is that not your choice?” You shift in your chair, ignoring the way his eyes are gazing into yours so softly, even though he was clearly annoyed at your question.
Gojo sighs, dropping the pencil and sitting back in the chair, letting it spin side to side as he stares at you with a titled head. “Generations of my male family members have attended Theta Phi, my dad kinda signed me up without my knowledge.”
You frown, biting the inside of your cheek when his leg rises and he brushes his foot against the inside of your thigh. Your body buzzes with the way he laughs at your glare, reaching down to swap it away.
“How can he even do that? Couldn’t you just.. I don't know, not go?”
Gojo laughs again but it’s more bitter this time, rotten with parental issues you probably shouldn’t get into considering you had your own and discussing your personal lives wasn’t a part of your agreement.
“Now who sounds privileged?”
You give him a straight face, foot lightly kicking at him and rolling your eyes when he grins.
“I’m being serious. My mom wanted me to do gymnastics on a professional level and I had no interest so I just didn’t do it. She eventually got over it.” You shrug.
Well your mom wasn’t completely over it but that wasn’t your business. You made your own discussions and what others felt about them was on them. You’d barely talked to her since you broke the news to her freshman year and your father had died when you were a child so you really only had your sister, with the occasional birthday or holiday text from your mom.
“Not that easy in the Gojo dynasty.” He emphasizes the last word and you can tell by his sneer just how much he hates his family,
“I told him I wasn't doing it. Told him of my dream to become a physics professor and he laughed in my face and threatened to not pay my tuition if I didn’t join.”
He pauses, closing his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again.
“My family is filthy rich but you don’t get anything for free. You have to prove that you're worthy of a college inheritance, a spot in the wills, and a position in the family business. My father told me if I didn’t join the frat then I’d only have a spot in the will after college. Didn’t want to graduate with loans so I played along.”
You blinked, the heart that most people claim you don’t have, suddenly aching for Gojo. You hadn’t considered that his family might be a bunch of money hoarding psychopaths but you guessed it made sense with their status.
You never had to worry about your mother paying your tuition, she couldn’t afford it anyways. You survived off of a scholarship and your own income from jobs you worked since you were sixteen. The only thing you had to do was keep your grades up and not be reckless with your money.
You were suddenly grateful to have grown up on the poorer side, because you couldn’t imagine having someone dangle money over your head. Let alone your own parents.
“Physics? Didn’t peg you as the type.” You lean forward and smile softly, elbows on the table with your hands folded in front of you.
He mimics you, eyes brightening and seeming grateful you were changing to topic.
“What? The glasses and secret nerdy clothes didn’t give me away?” His foot plays with yours and you let it, biting back a moan when you think about how his glasses fog up when he fucks you with them on, messy white hair falling in his face.
You had noticed the different physics books lying about his room but never really thought much about it. You couldn’t understand how a parent could treat their child like an investment and not an actual human. With his family money, Gojo could have been one of those students that chased their dreams instead of fortune and actually been happy.
While you still thought he was arrogant and still hated fratboys, this opened a new side of him to you. A side you could empathize with.
“Seriously though Gojo, I'm sorry your family is so shit.”
He leans an elbow on the table, placing his chin in palm and giving you the dreamiest smile, lashes brushing together when he blinks slowly. “Aw, you feel bad for me, princess?”
“No.” Your cheeks burn and you sit back in your chair. Of course he’d ruin this, you were never being nice to him again! “Merely pointing out a fact.”
He pouts and stands. “Well now I'm sad. How about you make me feel better?”
When he pulls you from your seat, you let him, heart racing because this would be the second time this week that Gojo has fucked in you in this very study room, libarians oblivious to the shenanigans the two horny college students were up to.
He grabs your chin while you place your hands on his chest, steadying yourself as he pulls you close. When he leans down to kiss you, you turn your head but he goes straight for your neck. He’s sucking and biting, and you’re hardly trying to shove him off, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your heated skin.
“We have to- mmm, we have to be quick Toru. You have a game and I have to cheer for it, remember?”
He spins you toward the table, pushing you forward and waiting for you to brace yourself. thump! thump! thump! Your heart is going a mile a minute as you dig your hands into the desk, biting your lip when he reaches forward and unbuttons your pants, slowly pulling them down to your feet.
When he rises, you can feel his breath blowing on the back of your calves.. higher to your thighs.. Just beneath your ass and he’s leaving a kiss there, fingers coming up to rub your pussy through your panties.
You suck in a sharp breath and he licks a long strip from your clit to your hole, not bothering to move the fabric.
“Did you know,” He starts, pressing two fingers to your clit and rubbing, holding your leg tight to keep you still. “psychology says that the more you hate someone, the more you fixate on them and that it can turn into passion.”
You bite your lip, moving your hips back for more friction and growing annoyed when he holds you dead still, lightly tapping at your thigh as a warning. These were the only moments you’d ever bite your tongue, because while you loved to dom him, you loved for him to dominate you more.
"Do you love me yet, sweetheart?"
“Fuck you, S-satoru.”
He laughs, kissing your ass before standing up, the sound of him digging through his pockets and ripping open the condom sending chills through your body.
Gojo pushes his boxers down and slides the condom onto his cock with ease, holding onto your ass and taking a moment to breathe because the sight of you was almost too good to be true.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so fucking soaked for me, you want me to fuck you now?”
You push your hips against him, the warmth of his girthy cock rubbing against your ass. “Fucking obviously.”
"Ask nicely." He’s back to his teasing voice and you want to rip your hair out. It’s been a day since you had sex and you needed him desperately, even if you’d never tell him that.
"Gojo." You groan, fingers burning from how hard they dug into the wooden table.
"That's not nice." He leans over your back, grabbing your chin and turning you to face him. "Try again."
You grabbed his wrist and dug your nails in. "If you don't fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I'm going home."
Gojo laughs out a “That’s my girl.” and kisses you quickly before pulling back up.
He moves your panties out of the way and pushes inside in one smooth motion. You gasp, spine arching when he pushes it down, pulling you further back onto his cock. He was thick, stretching you open so perfectly, your walls gripping around him possessively.
Gojo sets a brutal pace from the start, his hips slamming against your ass with each thrust. The table creaked beneath you, and somewhere in the back of your mind you worried about someone hearing, but the thought was distant, drowned out by the pleasure building low in your belly.
You cover your mouth with your hand, biting down onto your palm when he wraps your hair in his fist and pulls your head back, scalp burning from the sting of it.
“This is what you needed, isn’t it?” His voice was strained, losing some of its usual cocky smoothness as lost himself in your cunt. "Acting like you’re too good for me, but your pussy tells a different story.”
You hate him, you really fucking do. You wanted to snap back at him, to say something cruel, but he angled his hips just right and hit that spot inside you that made you see stars. All that came out was a moan, loud and shameless in the quiet library.
He slows his hips just a little, yanking your body up against his. You glare at him but he doesn’t care, just grabs your jaw and squeezes until you move your hand.
“You want the entire library to know how well you take my cock?” He asks, peering down at you and you once again, find yourself drifting in his eyes, pulse skipping beats from the way he looks at you.
You can’t speak so you just shake your head no, licking your bottom lip and pushing your hips back against him. He leans down and kisses you, sucking your tongue into his mouth and moving his hand to rub your clit.
“Then shut the fuck up, princess.”
Gojo doesn’t give you the opportunity to respond before he’s slamming his hips back into yours, cock rubbing against your gummy walls and sending you spiraling. You were so close, inner walls clenching around him, your whole body trembling with the effort of holding back, waiting for him.
“Fucking pussy squeezing the life out of me, shit, gonna cum already, princess.”
Gojo never slows his pace, your lower body bumping into the table with each brutal thrust, his hand on your clit rubbing harsh circles. Tears seep from your eyes and you don’t see it but they fall from his too and straight into your hair, his free arm wrapping around body and pulling you close.
He leans his head down to your neck, sniffing deep and inhaling in your scent, mind spinning from your pheromones and his eyes rolling back. He squeezes you tight, the sound of his erratic breathing in your ear, clouding your senses, driving you fucking insane.
You hated to admit it but you loved when he was clingly like this, taking up your space while he fucked and prasied you. You often think of how different things could have been if he wasn’t who he was.
After one hard thrust, your knees buckled and you fell forward, Gojo going down with you. Your cheek laid against the cold surface, and Gojo hovered over you, his chest against your back, his mouth next to your ear.
“You drive me crazy, fuck, just let me make you mine already. Please, baby. Give me a chance.”
You wheeze out a laugh and he shifts his angle, hitting something that made your toes curl inside your sneakers, and the laugh turned into a whimper that you muffled against your own arm.
Gojo noticed, because of course he did. He adjusted, angling his hips to hit that spot again, and again, and again, each thrust a deliberate press that made your vision blur.
He looked at you and grounded low in his throat. Your eyes were half-closed, lips parted, cheeks flushed. He was claiming you in body and soul and you didn’t even realize it yet. The only trick was your stubborn mind, getting you to see that you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you.
"Say you want this. Say you want me." He kisses you and looks you in the eyes as he fucks you, his own pleading.
You squeeze your eyes shut up, biting into your fist to keep quiet as your orgasm crept up on you.
He made a sound of annoyance and slammed into you, your teeth greeting, nails leaving marks on the table that would surely tell anyone else what happened here. The orgasm that had been building crashed into you without warning, rolling through you in waves that made your thighs shake and your breath come in short, ragged gasps.
You bit down on your own tongue to keep quiet and tasted salt and blood.
Gojo’s rhythm faltered, his grip on your hip tightening as he fucked you through it. Slower now, deeper, grinding his hips against your ass on every downstroke. You were still clenching around him when his breathing changed and his forehead dropped to your shoulder.
"Close," he huffed.
"Then finish."
He thrust three more times, balls squeezing as he groaned with each stroke, and then he buried himself deep and held still. His legs strained and shook as he drained himself inside of you, and you felt the pulse of his cock through the condom, felt the way his whole body tensed and then released.
His breath was hot and uneven against your shoulder. He stayed there for a long moment, his weight pressing you into the table, both of you breathing hard.
You let him stay like that for a minute, the heat of his chest pressed against your back and your eyes fluttering closed as you came back down to earth. Something had changed this time and you couldn’t tell what it was but you felt it deep in your soul and it scared the fuck out of you.
Just when you were about to tell him to get off, he started to slowly pull out.
You felt the warmth immediately, the wet cum against your thigh. You turned your head, looking down between your bodies, and saw it. The condom had fucking ripped at the top!
"Gojo."
He stood up and looked at you, expression going from satisfied to panicked in about half a second.
"What’s wrong?"
You point to his cock, hair matching his and sticking to your sweaty face. "That’s what’s wrong."
"Shit." He grabbed the condom off his half hard cock and held it up. It was still mostly intact, but the seal had in fact broken at the base. "Shit, I’m sorry. How much got in you?"
“Just get something I can clean myself with.” You fight the urge to curse him out, knowing it wasn’t really his fault. You trusted that Gojo was only sleeping with you and you were on birth control so that wasn’t an issue. But what exactly was the problem?
Gojo pulls his pants and boxers back, moving around the table to grab a box of tissue at one of the desks and handing you a few. He watched as you wiped between your thighs, cum leaking from your pussy and the sight has his cock twitching in his jeans. Something possessive and nasty at the thought of you leaking with his seed while Suguru tried to steal you from him.
“I’m on the pill, remember? Relax.” You notice his strained face and wrongly assume it’s because he’s having a pregnancy scare. You had no fucking idea.
When you’re both decent enough, Gojo stops you before you leave out, hand on your arm as he stares down at you. You raise a brow, eyes wandering and fighting back a smile at the sight of your strawberry lipstick on the side of his mouth. Hot.
"Suguru asked about you.”
You give a confused smile, wondering what that had to do with you. You like Suguru, you weren’t close but still friends. Why would he be asking Gojo about you? The thought made your stomach ache.
“Did he?”
Gojo looks like he’s trying to keep his annoyance in check, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Mhm, I think he likes you. Said he’s gonna try to make a move on you.”
Your frown this time, even more confused than before. Sure, you thought he was cute that one time during freshman year but you never really thought much about him outside of the very few times you hung out with the girls.
“I don't date frat boys."
"Right. You just sleep with them."
You can hear the malice in his voice and now you’re annoyed, not wanting anything to do with whatever rivalry he and Suguru had going on. You snatch your arm away from him and deadpan him, a storm quietly building in your chest.
“I sleep with you.” You correct him. “A serious lapse of judgement, not a fucking pattern. I’m not interested in your friend.”
Gojo scuffs, taking a step back with hurt in his eyes. “A lapse of judgement? That’s what we’re calling this?”
“That’s exactly what we’re calling this.” You say with more venom than you mean to, annoyed that he was accusing you of something you hadn’t even done nor had any plans to.
“Keep lying to yourself, (name). I won’t be around to watch it.”
He pushes past you and you’re left confused on what the fuck just happened.
A week goes by without you seeing each other. Gojo doesn’t call or text, so you don’t either.
You pretend that the anonymous flowers placed outside of your door aren’t from him, that the late night deliveries of beef bowls or your favorite sweets weren’t placed there by a certain 6’3 white haired frat president.
He was mad at you for something you didn’t do and while you told yourself you didn’t care, you hated the permanent knot in your stomach. You had grown used to spending most of your nights at his place, asleep in his bed and waking up to him with his arms wrapped around you.
You told yourself that you hated it, hated him, but the truth was you weren’t sure what you felt anymore.
You didn’t love Gojo but you had learned to tolerate his presence, even felt your ice cold heart melting a bit around him. You told yourself that this was simply sex, but you had unknowingly found yourself finding comfort in his presence. So having your new norm snatched away from you made you feel sick.
So what did you do? You ignored him.
You go back to using your toys to get off, even if it does nothing but leave you sexually frustrated once again. You work on your project alone and send him copies of your research notes through google drive, but that’s as far as communication between you two went.
You had never in your life begged a man to speak to you, to take you back and you weren’t going to start now. Gojo was a frat boy at the end of the day, maybe it was for the best that you cut things off.
It’s better this way.
"You look like shit," Shoko says, leaning against the doorframe of your shared bathroom with a mascara wand in one hand.
"Thanks," you muttered, not looking up from the sink.
You didn’t want to go out, would rather stay home and get ahead of school work but your friends wouldn’t hear it. They told you that you were too depressed and it was making them depressed and when you tried to argue, they literally pulled up texts to show the difference in the way you texted a week ago vs now.
You didn’t deny that you were a bit drier than usual but blamed it on school and cheer stress, what will all the games going on.
They didn’t believe it, which is why you found yourself fixing your hair and makeup, and squeezing into a body tight red dress. Girls night out at the club, dress your sluttiest! Yuki had said.
"I'm serious. Are you sick? Are you dying? Should I call someone?"
"I'm not dying, Shoko."
She sighs and looks over at you but you don’t face her. Can’t face her. "Then what's wrong with you?"
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You turned off the faucet and dried your hands on the towel, avoiding eye contact because Shoko had this creepy way of reading people, and right now you did not want to be fucking read.
You were going to get pissy drunk and forget that you ever agreed to that stupid arrangement in the first place.
You meet Yuki and Utahime at the club around eight, annoyed that your boobs keep spilling out of your top and the way men that were definitely married with children keep looking at you.
It was at that moment that you realized when Gojo had been leaving you covered in hickeys, no one ever batted an eye at you and now that most had faded, heads were starting to turn again.
It made you hate him more for doing this to you. Making you so fucking stupid.
The club was packed, some DJ from out of town was performing (he wouldn’t stop saying it), and the bass was already rattling in your chest before you even got to your reserved booth. Yuki ordered a round of shots as soon as you sat, and Utahime was already scanning the room for cute guys. You could feel Shoko looking but tried your best to ignore her, skin tight with an annoying wave of anxiety.
You had the sudden urge to throw up and were thankful when Yuki arrived with drinks, immediately grabbing a shot glass and tossing it back.
Utahime leaned across the table, her purple hair falling in her face as she looked at you with concerned eyes that pissed you off. Everyone was treating you like a baby when you were fine!
“Okay seriously, what’s going on? You look like you’re experiencing your first heartbreak.”
You blink, feigning innocence with a forced smile. “What do you mean?”
"You've been weird lately," Yuki added, not even trying to be subtle about it because she never gave a fuck. "Like, mopey and it’s concerning but annoying."
You roll your eyes. They’re being dramatic as usual. Just because you hadn’t been fucked in seven days didn’t mean you were mopey. Sure, your pussy literally ached every day to be fucked but that you always took care of it, even if your sex drive only grew more and more.
“I’m fine. I’m just tired from studying for midterms.”
“Look.” Shoko cuts in, taking a shot and turning to face you better. She takes your hand in yours and you fight the urge to snatch it away.
“I don’t know who that guy was, but it seemed like he really made you happy. Maybe reach out to him and try to fix things. I hate to see you down.”
You scuff, lightly pulling your hand away and tasking another shot. “There is no other guy.”
“Really? So what about when I caught you hiding a guy in the closet like two weeks ago, that was a lie?”
Your face flushed at the memory but you swallow it and hide deep in your heart, veins jumping at the image of his face.
“Whoever he is,” Yuki continues. “you should have hot make up sex or whatever. You've been down since whatever happened, and life's too short to be miserable over a boy."
"Can you all just fuck off?” You snap, anger burning hot in your chest. “Seriously. I'm not down. I'm not miserable. There's no fucking guy."
None of the girls seem convinced but they drop the topic anyways and move onto how Yuki and Choso broke up. You take this time to collect yourself, blaming your outburst on not getting laid and not because you couldn’t stop thinking about the one person you “hated” most.
That’s when you looked up and saw him. Gojo walked in the front entrance like he owned it, Sukuna and Toji on his left and Suguru to his right.
Your breath got stuck in your throat. He looked otherworldly, in a back shirt that clung tight to his chest and showed off his muscles that he usually kept hidden. His shades were covering his eyes, white hair tucked behind his ears and his jeans showed off that perfect thin waist you loved to hold onto whenever he fucked you missionary.
Your heart dripped to your stomach when you got a closer look, because on Gojo's arm was a girl you didn’t recognize.
She was pretty. Brunette, tall, wearing a bodycon dress that hugged every curve, and she was clinging to his bicep like it was a lifeline. Laughing at something he said, tilting her head in that flirty way that made you want to throw up right there.
But when you looked at Gojo, he looked miserable. His smile didn’t reach as high as you knew it could, his jaw was tight and his head kept turning to look elsewhere, as if he’d rather be anywhere but there.
"Oh, great," Utahime muttered after following your line of sight. "The frat brigade."
They came over because that’s just your fucking luck. Sukuna spotted your booth first and steered the whole group in your direction, because Sukuna had zero boundaries and loved making people uncomfortable which is why you hated him maybe even more than you hated Gojo.
"Hey, ladies," Sukuna said with a grin that was all teeth, sitting next to Shoko. "Looking hot as fuck tonight."
"Looking like a felon, as always," Your roommate replied flatly, unamused.
Suguru laughed and slid into the booth next to Yuki. Toji grabbed a chair from a nearby table and flipped it around, straddling it. And Gojo..
Gojo sits directly across from you, the brunette settling beside him, still attached to his arm. You roll your eyes.
“Hey.” He says to no one in particular, even though you can see his eyes linger on yours through his shades and you feel your heart skipping literal beats. What the fuck was that about?
You look away, reaching for another drink and looking away, fingers trembling just slightly around the glass, eyes glancing at the dance floor. Fucking get it together.
You listen as Gojo introduces the girl, not caring to catch her name and just that she’s apparently a friend of a friend. You listen as everyone says hello, and give her a silent mode and strained smile.
The conversation shifted naturally, Sukuna talking about the latest football game where they crushed the rival 4-1. You were there obviously, performed your cheer routine and pretended like Gojo wasn’t somewhere all hot and sweaty. It was a true test to your strength to not walk up to him that night.
"Gojo scored three of those goals," Suguru said, nodding to him. "Man of the match, again."
"Three goals," Toji repeated, stealing one of your shots and winking at you when you flip him off. "And he still looked like someone kicked his dog after the game."
The girl leaned into Gojo and whispered something in his ear. Whatever it was, it made him exhale through his nose, not quite a laugh but enough for your jealousy to creep to the surface.
Something hot and ugly twisting in your chest.
Fuck this! You weren't going to sit here act like some desperate whore when men literally beg at your feet for a chance to fuck you. Screw Gojo, there were plenty of fish in the sea and one was bound to match your freak.
You tossed back the shot that had been sitting in front of you, slammed the glass on the table hard enough to make everyone look at you, and stood up. You yanked down the hem of your dress and walked away without a word.
“Where are you going?”
You heard Shoko yell after you but you ignored her, venom dripping from your pores with each step. It was time to remind yourself who you were, and that wasn’t some cock drunk slut who moped over a man she hated anyways.
You pushed through the crowd until you reached the dance floor, where the music was loud enough to drown out your anger and started dancing
Your hips moved in circles, arms raised above your head, eyes closed as the music flowed through you. The bass was like a second heartbeat and you let it take you somewhere else. To a place where you didn’t have to think about Gojo and his stupid fucking face or the fact that he shows up with a girl on his arm after not texting you for a week.
You felt a guy appear behind you, his hands on your waist as he started moving with you, pulling your back against his chest. You let him even though you felt nothing. No spark, no heat, literally nothing. Just unfamiliar hands on your body and the faint smell of cologne that wasn't the one you were used to.
You were doing it on purpose, you knew that. Dancing with a stranger because you wanted Gojo to see, for him to feel even a fraction of what you felt watching that girl cling to him.
It took him about four minutes. You counted and smirked when he appeared in the crowd, leaning against a pole as he watched you with his glasses pushed up and malice in his eyes.
You lean into the guy more, letting his hands roam up your chest. Gojo smirks when he squeezes your boob, taking a sip of his drink and tilting his head.
You're breathless, annoyed that he thinks this is a joke and grabs the man’s hand roughly, guiding it down your dress further and further, never breaking eye contact with the man you’re supposed to be forgetting about.
When the stranger's hand is touching your bare thigh, Gojo breaks, passing his drink to someone and making his way through the crowd.
You hardly blink when a hand closes around your wrist and yanks away from the confused stranger with enough force that you stumble. Gojo keeps you upright even though his cheeks are clearly red from anger, glaring down at you like you insulted him.
“What the fuck are you doing? You some kind of whore now?” He leans down, voice tight and low against your ear.
You yank your arm back and take a step back, chest heaving as you squared up to him. “How fucking dare you? You're not my boyfriend, Gojo. You don't get to drag me around like I'm your property."
He stared at you, those blue eyes sharp and frustrated. "You're right. I'm not your boyfriend. Because you won't let me be!"
You're quiet for a split second, nostrils flared and fists balled at your side, heat moving up your chest to your neck.
“Can we not do this here?”
He laughs, grabbing your arm and pulling you close again, towering over you and forcing you to tilt your head back to see him.
“Why not? You were so brave a few seconds ago, let’s air our shit out right here. Don’t be embarrassed now, it’s beneath you.”
"You have a new fuck buddy now," you say, crossing your arms and purposely pushing your boobs up. "So I don't see why any of this is your problem."
"She's not my fuck buddy. My friends set it up because they think I need to move on from you." He ran a hand through his white hair, messing it up. "Sukuna literally said I've been unbearable to live with since we stopped talking."
"Boo hoo." You lack any sympathy considering he’s the one that walked out on you. Fuck. Him.
"Will you stop being a bitch for five seconds?"
"Excuse me?"
He steps closer, evading your space to the point that you only smell him and his fuck ass cologne, nose greedily breathing it in. “You heard me.”
“You’re not my boyfriend because you’re not my type! Now fuck off and let me forget anything ever happened between us.”
He laughed but it was hollow, lacking any true emotions. “But I’m your type when I’m inside of you.”
Your face is a fucking furance, especially when you realize others are looking. Your mouth opens and closes, searching for some witty response but your mind draws a blink. This was humiliating. How did you go from a secret situationship to publicly yelling at each other because you were jealous of the other giving someone else attention?
Your life was a fucking mess.
“Fuck you Gojo.”
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He smirks and it’s hateful and lust, making your nipples harden underneath your bra.
Without thinking, you grab his shirt and pull his mouth against yours, kissing him hard enough that your teeth clack. It was angry and messy, and you bit his lower lip until he hissed, and his hands were on your hips and then your ass, pulling your chest flat against his.
His tongue sweeps into your mouth as you moan and shamelessly grind against his leg, his hands guiding your hips back and forth. The music is blasting, your mind is on a different planet and you don’t notice the way your friends are looking from the booth in pure shock.
When you gain some common sense and remember where you are, you pull away and look at Gojo with glassy eyes, relishing in the way his lips are red from your kisses.
“Wanna fuck Toru?”
When he nods yes, you're dragging him by his hand through the crowd and into the men's bathroom.
There’s no words needed when the door closes, so you drop to your knees and start unblocking his belt and unzipping his pants. Gojo is clearly flustered, but helps you pull his pants and boxers down with shaking hands.
He watches you with one hand braced on the wall and the other moving to grab your hair, lips parted as he breathed heavily.
You stroke him a few times, thumb rubbing over the red tip and spreading the pre before taking him into your mouth without warning. Gojo curses under his breath, hips jerking forward, and you wrap one hand around the base while you work the rest with your tongue.
This was your first time going down on Gojo but no one would know with the way you easily take him, swallowing his cock until it’s down your throat.
You’re sloppy about it, letting salvia drip down your chin and onto your exposed chest, sucking his cock like a pornstar, your mouth making obscene wet noises. You suck hard, looking up at him through wet eyelashes and watching his face contort, jaw clenched and eyes dark.
“Fuck,” He breathed, hands tightening in your hair and guiding you to suck faster. “Just like that.”
You took him deeper, relaxing your throat and letting him control your movements. His hips start to move, slow thrust that make him hit the back of your throat and your eyes water. When you moan around he shudders and reaches a hand down to stroke your cheek.
"You're so good at this," he said, voice rough. "You're so good at pretending you don't want me, but look at you. My little cock obsessed slut."
You pull back just enough to run your tongue along the underside, from base to tip, and smirk when he makes a sound that’s almost a whimper. You take him back in, bobbing your head in a rhythm that matches the muffled bass from the club.
“Haah, fuck!” You could feel him getting close, the way his thighs tensed, the way his breathing turned ragged.
"Wait, princess, fuck, I'm gonna-"
You don’t pull off. When he cums, you swallow all of it, throat working at his cock as he shoots hot ropes of thick cum into your mouth. His groan is wrecked, a raw sound torn from somewhere deep in his chest, and his fist slams against the wall as his knees threaten to buckle. You held him there, mouth sealed tight around him, until the last tremor faded and he was just a gasping, trembling mess.
Then you let him slip free, wipe the spit and salt from your lips with the back of your hand, and tilt your face up to meet his stunned, glassy stare. If you knew how hot his moans were when getting his dick sucked, you would have done this sooner.
“Wanna get out here?”
When you made it to Gojo’s place, you both wrestled each other’s clothes off and didn’t make it to his room before he was inside of you. He took you on the couch two times and once in the kitchen, bent over the sink as he fucked you hard and deep.
Now you were laid on your back on his bed, watching as he reached for another condom. Before you could stop yourself, you let your heart lead for once and called his name to stop him.
“No condom this time.”
He freezes, looking back down at the latex and back at you. “What?”
“Wanna feel you this time Toru, please?”
And he broke, tossing it and climbing back over your body and kissing from your tits back up to your face, stopping to lick inside of your mouth, his hard cock pressing against your entrance. He pauses, looking down at you with his white hair falling to the sides of his face, all sweaty from your previous sessions.
“Say it again.”
You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pull him back down and nipping at his lip. “I want you Satoru, wanna feel you raw.”
He gives a shaky breath and without wasting any more time, pushes into you slowly, stopping every inch to savor your warmth around him. Feeling him bare inside of you made you gasp and claw at his shoulders, the new sensation of his pulsing cock making you feel lucid.
He groaned against your neck, stilling once he was fully seated, letting you adjust to the new feeling as he fought the urge to bust a fat fucking nut.
"You feel so good," he said, voice cracking. "Fuck, you feel-"
"Move," you whisper, scratching down his back.
He started slowly, rolling his hips in deep, deliberate thrusts that hit every nerve ending you had. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he moaned your name against your collarbone.
This was different from every other time. Before, it had been fast and rough and detached on your end, two people using each other to blow off steam. This was something else entirely. He was looking at you, really looking at you, and there was so much emotion in his eyes that you felt tears prick at your own.
He licks them away, both hands reaching down to grab onto your ass so he can pound you harder.. faster, so fucking deep. He moves faster, and you meet him thrust for thrust, your bodies naturally finding a rhythm that has your heart lurching.
The pressure built inside you and when that coil snapped and you came for the fourth time, you came hard, back arching off the bed, mouth open in a silent cry, clenching around him so tightly that he followed you over the edge with a groan that sounded like your name.
“Fuck-, I love you, sweetheart. Fucking love you so much.”
He buried himself deep, groaning loud and squeezing your ass hard enough to leave a print. His hips moved in circles as he emptied himself and you felt it, the warmth of him spilling into you, no barrier, nothing between you, and it was so intimate that you felt tears slip again.
You let him hold you that night even though you don’t hold him back, mind stuck on the fact that Gojo loves you and now your relationship would never be the same.
You woke up first that day and deeply regret it.
The morning light was creeping in and your body was sore enough that you almost regretted riding him two more times after, letting him stuff you full until his balls were empty. Gojo was still asleep beside you, one arm thrown over his face, white hair a mess on the pillow. You slipped out of bed carefully, pulling on one of his oversized soccer jerseys that fell to your mid-thigh, and padded barefoot into the hallway.
You were snooping, just trying to use the bathroom when you noticed one of his draws were still open and a bunch of polaroids were spilling out. You told yourself you were just going to fix them so they wouldn’t get destroyed.
You pulled the draw open, heart lurching when the first one you saw was a photo of you. What the fuck..
It was from sophomore year, the one time you went bowling with your friends and had been forced to interact with Gojo. He had been taking photos but you never thought about it. It wasn’t creepy, just an off guard photo of you laughing at something and it made you sick.
You started digging through the rest, ears burning when you found a few more of you off guard, some of you with the girls that he took. You looked so happy in all of them, Gojo’s photography style making it look like you were the center of his world.
Your fingers trembled as you flipped through the polaroids, each one a moment you barely remembered. He'd seen you. Really seen you. And you spent two years hating him because he wore Greek letters on his chest and you built your whole personality around hating everything that stood for.
Your throat aches, eyes burn. You press your palm flat against the sink to steady yourself, knees weak and blood running cold.
When you grabbed a few photos and turned to confront him, Gojo was standing in the doorway. He was shirtless, sleep still in his eyes, and he looked from your face to the open drawer with an expression that could only be described as pure panic.
"How long?" You ask, holding up the photos. "Satoru, how long have you been taking pictures of me?"
❦ lisa's note: messy af tbh! one more part to go, lemme know what ya think :')
ა ˙˖ in which → you have car sex with your biggest op, satoru gojo
frat!jo 𝓍 fem!reader
Everyone knows you hate fraternities, especially Theta Phi and it's president, Satoru Gojo
It was a given. The sky is blue, grass is green and according to you, fraternities are the root of all evil.
Which is why when you started fucking Gojo, it was under the condition that this was strictly between the two of you and you'd ruin his life if he told anyone about this.. arrangement.
Here's what not even your closest friends know about you: you had a very high libido and none of the men you were interested in had been capable of keeping up. you tried sleeping with athletes but even they didn't have the stamina to go for more than two rounds and while your vibrators always helped you, you had grown sexually frustrated and needed more.
You started snapping over the tiniest things, losing sleep and even daydreaming during lectures about getting fucked.
This.. arrangement started when you had been assigned to work on a project with Gojo, the arrogant white haired manchild you hated since the first day of uni. Now you were stuck with him for two months, working on a project he cared little about since he was too busy trying to charm his way into not just your pants, but your heart.
As if!
"Fuck, just like that, princesss. Come on, I know you can go faster." Gojo chuckles and grabs onto your hips, spreading his legs wider as he starts bouncing you on his cock so hard that the car is rocking back and forth, windows fogging up as he lifts his hips to pound into you.
You should be working on this project that was due in a few weeks, but instead you let Gojo drag you to the backseat of his car with the promise that this would be quick, something to clear your minds so you could focus on your work without any distractions.
Yet here you were four rounds later with cum dripping down your thighs from his previous loads that started to seep from the condom, body shaking as you neared your fourth orgasm.
"Screw you asshole, how about you get on top you lazy bast- oh!" Gojo lifts you off his cock and flips you onto your knees, awkwardly moving within the limited space until he’s behind you and lining his cock up with your entrance.
"You're so fucking mean to me, I love it." Gojo leans over your body to suck on your neck, one hand holding onto your hip while the other grips the back of the seat as he pushes into you.
"You d-deserve it." You push back against him as he pushes forward, meeting him halfway until he's balls deep inside of you, your cunt hungrily squeezing him for more, eyes rolling back when he starts to slowly move his hips.
You hadn't meant for this to go on for as long as it has. You had been frustrated after a shift at work, then you walked in on your roommate getting her back blown out, and when you went to meet Gojo for a quick study session at the library, it was closed and he smirked and told you his place was around the corner.
You reluctantly got into his car, arms folded across your chest as you stared out the window the entire way there, ignoring his flirtatious comments. It had frustrated you to no end, so who could really blame you when you started drooling after he offered to help you with your little issue?
It was supposed to be a one time thing, a quick solution to your "problem" until you could find someone more permanent, someone you didn't despise.
Only Gojo had matched your freak perfectly, going six rounds your first time and only taking a break once. You didn't want it to be him, did everything to convince yourself that he was actually terrible in bed but your vibrators had turned stale after that night, your mind constantly drifting to how hard Gojo made you cum on his dick and on his tongue.
He was just too good.
You arch your back so he can hit deeper, hands tightly gripping the leather head rest to steady yourself, skirt yanked above your waist, bra and shirt long discarded on the car floor.
You cry out when he hits a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, head spinning from how deep he was fucking you.
Gojo groans and leans forward, grabbing your chin to turn your head toward his, pink lips slamming against yours. The kiss is careless, his tongue fighting yours, you angrily biting his lip because you hate yourself for letting him fuck you when you swore up and down you’d never get involved with a fratboy.
Gojo didn’t care, savoring the taste of his blood mixing with the spit you both traded.
When he pulls away, your brows furrow from the way he's staring at you, white hair falling into his face, lips slightly busted from your bite, a foreign feeling twirling in your belly. This was just sex, you wanted nothing more from him so why was he staring at you like he wanted to tell you something that would ruin your current agreement?
"Look at you.” He whispers too softly. “Letting me fuck you like a slut in my car. Anyone could walk by, you know? See how good I fuck you, how well you take me. You want that?"
When you try to turn your head, he tightens his grip on your jaw and smirks, slamming into you as he thrusts grow sloppy. The sound of your wet pussy squelching filling the car has him dizzy with need.
"You don't have to answer, your moans are telling me enough." He kisses you one more time before letting you go and pulling back.
You don't have a chance to dwell on what he was implying before he was gripping your hips and pounding into you at a pace that had you crying out as the coil in your belly tightens, your puffy walls gripping around Gojo's cock.
"M'gonna cum again!" You whined as his tip hit your cervix perfectly, fat tears escaping your eyes while your mouth dropped open in a silent cry.
You try to fuck him back, really you do but your legs are noodles at this point and the only thing keeping you up was Gojo's steady hands on your hips, euphoria coursing through your body and making your head dizzy with need.
“Come on, princess. Give me another one, yeah? You can do it, such a good girl f’me.”
You hate him so much, hate that he knows exactly what to say to push you over the edge, that he was way too in-tune with your body as if he had been created to please you.
Gojo pulls you up against his chest and you let your head fall on his shoulder. He wraps one arm around your waist and squeezes you flush against him, his other hand moving around your body until he’s rubbing circles on your clit and you’re lazily bucking back against him.
“Feels so good Toru, haah, don’t stop!”
The car reeked of sex, windows blurred from the breathy moans falling from yours and Gojo’s mouths as you both rock into each other. Anyone walking by would know what was happening inside. You thanked god it was late and the parking lot had been empty.
“Really? Thought you hated me, pretty girl. Who knew- fuck, who knew you had such loose morals?” He laughs in your ear, hand pushing on your back to arch it even further while he split you on his cock.
“F-fuck you, oh im close!”
Gojo laughs and places a kiss on the side of your head that lingers longer than it should before pushing you back down to get a better angle and his next slam sends you over the edge, your orgasm tearing through your soul as you squirt all over his seats and cry out his name.
This was better than porn.
Gojo doesn’t laugh this time, doesn’t make any snide comments because he can barely breathe with the way your cunt is pulsing around his cock, your juices dripping down his thighs and he thinks he’s going crazy because he’s never had pussy this good.
The fact that you hated him made this even better for some reason, motivated him to fuck you until you finally admitted that this was more than just casual sex. That he wasn’t delusional in thinking this could be something deeper.
He squeezes your hips tighter, pushing as deep as he can as he pumps his third load into the condom, eyes rolling back and a strangled groan escaping his lips as thick hot cum drips from the latex and into your warm pussy.
Gojo can feel it slipping it off, can feel your heat and gummy walls on his half free cock and it has him feral as he picks up his pace and fucks another load into you, his balls tightening and pulsing because you had never felt this good.
“Shit, princess. You’re so fucking wet, so good, s-so perfect.” He drops against your back, still holding you up as his hips stutter and slow, pushing the last of his orgasm out while you both catch your breath.
He stays there for a moment, his face tucked into the crook of your neck, thumbs rubbing circles on your hips as you both come down from your high. You can feel his cum leaking from you and down your thighs and you hate how it awakens something primal inside of you. And when the thought to push it back in had formed, you blamed it on your disheveled state.
In any other instance you would have pushed him off you already, huffing that it was only sex and would never happen again even though you both knew that was a lie.
Something about Gojo had you coming back for seconds and thirds. Every fuck session was somehow better than the last, making you forget that this was supposed to be a one time thing, something to hold you over until you found a more suitable partner.
Only you were starting to realize Gojo might be the best you ever had. It made you hate him more.
You gasp when he slowly pulls out, pussy overstimulated and swollen from the multiple rounds you went in the span of an hour. Both of you sitting on the cushion, one of your arms draped across the seat, Gojo’s throw over his eyes.
You sneak a look at him, heart thumping at how attractive he looked. His hair was all over the place, cheeks red from exhaustion, and his pants and boxers were still halfway down, cock still free and housing a half on condom. Your skin tingles at the sight of his abdomen and white pubes wet with your release.
He looked as fucked out as you felt.
Not one for awkward silence, you lift your hips to pull your panties back up and your skirt down, stretching your body to reach into the front seat for your shirt, ass in the air and you almost have it, your finger literally grazes the blue fabric before Gojo grabs you and pulls you down.
“Gojo! Oh my god, let go you freak.” You’re fuming, trying your best to wiggle out his grip but he just tightens his arms around your stomach, pulling you against him and lowering his head onto your back, littering it in soft kisses that burn through your skin.
"Go on a date with me. Please?"
This again. You told him multiple times before that this was simply sex, two college students helping each other out and nothing more. No feelings outside of helping the other get off. His stubbornness would only hurt him in the end.
"God no, I don't date frat boys."
"What if I left?"
You freeze against him, a lump forming in your chest. "Aren't you the president? You can't just leave."
What a cruel joke. Not that you wanted him anyways but even if you did, Gojo would never leave his fraternity. Certainly not for you. You two weren’t lovers, weren’t friends and we’re barely acquaintances given the fact that he was your number one op.
You remembered the time in sophomore year when he publicly called you an uptight bitch because you told him his party sucked. You lived different lives, it could never work. He would never change and you would never see him as more than a quick fuck and your unfortunate project buddy that you’d go back to ignoring once this was over.
"I can do whatever I want sweetheart, did you forget my last name?" He lifts his head and kisses your shoulder this time, goosebumps forming on your arms. Of course, he always tried to fix everything with money and status, which is another reason why you hated him.
You sit there quietly, lost in your thoughts.
You couldn’t seriously be with someone like Gojo, right? He was brash, had an ego out of this world and was a bratty nepo baby that flirted with anyone with a hole.
"So?" he asks, hopeful. HIs fingers gently dig into your belly to keep you from moving away, one hand coming up to grip your chin and turn your head back to him.
"So?" You repeat, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you lose yourself in his eyes.
For all of his.. lack of good qualities, he never failed in the facial department. Perhaps that was another reason you disliked him, because no matter how many insults you can throw his way, ugly wasn’t one of them.
Satoru Gojo was sculpted by the Gods themselves, which was unfortunate, because no one with a face like that should have a personality so catastrophically irritating. You can’t help but to let your eyes. traitorous things that they were, linger.
He notices because of course he does, and the smile that spreads across his face lacks any of his usual arrogance and for a second you imagined what life as his girlfriend could be like.
The thought came uninvited, images of him giving you sleepy morning kisses nad taking you on dates vivid enough to make your stomach twist.
Absolutely not.
Satoru Gojo was many things: powerful, insufferable, unbearably handsome, but he was not boyfriend material.
"Will you go on a date with me if I leave the frat?"
"No."
You answer too fast and Gojo is once again left heartbroken as you pull away to finish dressing yourself, refusing to spare him another look. He could understand why you hated him, but if you would just give him a chance to prove he could be different, he knew he wouldn’t disappoint you.
He would just have to keep trying, keep working for your favor because he would make you his if it was the last thing he did. He was competitive to his core and that wouldn’t waver just because he had finally met his match.
On the contrary, it only motivated him more. He saw the way you looked at him, how you were starting to let him touch you longer than you would have when this first started.
He was slowly breaking your walls down and it was only a matter of time before he made you his.
❦ lisa's note: this will be a series! I'll post the masterlist for it soon but lemme know if you wanna be tagged! 😋
summary: after years of hiding your identity and spending nights fighting off monsters, you're tired of being a magical girl - especially with a new villain known as the king of curses out to get you.
all you want is to be able to focus on your normal life, and when you finally meet a nice guy at a work event for your day job you figure that maybe things are looking up.
if only he wasn't the very villain who wanted you dead.
content: 18+ mdni, smut, angst, humor, betrayal, lying, yandere/obsessed sukuna, confusing feelings, loneliness, falling in love, mentions of past illness, hurt/comfort, manipulation, sukuna is evil but he's also very confused, true-form sukuna, enemies to lovers (and back to enemies and then to lovers LOL), this couple is a mess
drunk!gojo who cannot keep a single thought to himself once he’s tipsy.
you know he’s drunk because he’s unusually quiet. you’re walking home together, his hand lazily intertwined with yours, his sunglasses hanging crooked from the collar of his shirt even though it’s midnight.
“i’m gonna propose to you at the top of that hill by the ocean.” he says it casually, out of nowhere.
you blink. “…what?”
he looks at you completely seriously. “the one in kamakura. the one with the little wooden railing and the view of the water.”
you stare. “satoru.”
“i already planned it.”
“you planned it?”
“yeah.” he nods like this is obvious information. “i’m gonna wear the black suit you like. not the blue one, you said the black one makes me look ‘annoyingly handsome.’”
your face heats up. “you remember that?”
“course i do.” he squeezes your hand. “and you’re gonna be wearing that little dress you wore on our third date. the one you thought i didn’t notice.”
“you noticed?”
“baby, i notice everything about you.”
you’re officially speechless, but he keeps going. “and i’m gonna get down on one knee when the sun’s setting, because you like sunsets.”
“satoru…”
“and i’m gonna say somethin’ that’s probably corny, and really romantic cause you like that stuff. and i’ll say please.”
you smile, patting his head. “how long have you had this planned?”
“long time, baby. also the ring’s in my sock drawer.”
you freeze. both of you stare at each other.
“…you have the ring already?”
gojo’s eyes widen. a beat passes. “i don’t think i was supposed to say that.”
despite those charming smiles and how he flirts with practiced ease, he’s inexperienced as hell and relies on his wit to deflect the conversation whenever it gets too personal for comfort.
a soft “you okay, satoru?” from you has gojo nodding quickly, cheeks darkening as he struggles to tear the condom open.
“my hands are too big,” he deflects, punctuating his sentence with a nervous laugh, and you shoot him a look, tearing the package open and rolling it onto his cock.
he hisses, forehead falling forward. “baby, not—not so fast, huh?” he chuckles, cock twitching as he tries to steady himself. he exhales when you lay back down onto his bed, looping your calves around his waist, pulling him closer.
you watch him expectantly, lock your arms around his neck as his eyes zero onto your heat, there and shit he’s supposed to put his dick in—
“satoru?” gojo glances up at you, eyes wide and glassy, and his breath hitches.
“y—yeah, i’m—just gimme a sec, baby.” he clears his throat, lining himself up with your entrance, and lets out another shuddering breath when you pull him closer to you, his tip running through your slick and pushing through a half-inch.
gojo chokes out a groan, knuckles going white as he grips onto the sheets beside you, head falling down onto your chest as he inches in deeper, and bites onto your skin, his eyes squeezing shut.
“you can move,” you whisper. “or is—are you fully in?”
“i’m not fully in,” he whisper shouts indignantly, glancing up at you with narrowed, wounded eyes before he sinks in more, and more. your chest rises as he fills you and gojo freezes with an uncharacteristically high whine, going dead still.
“i—” he starts, “it’s not what you—”
“did you cum?” you whisper. “satoru, are you…you’ve had sex before, right?”
“yes, i’ve had sex before,” he hisses.
“did you cum? it’s okay if you did.” you cup his face softly, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “we’ll get a new condom, and go again.”
“i’m not a virgin,” he mumbles under his breath, pulling out and yanking off the condom, pouting.
“s’okay. we’ll go niiice and slow, satoru,” you drawl, and you giggle when he chokes on his words again.
ryomen sukuna proves he can treat you better than your asshole bf
ryomen sukuna does not concern himself with the miserable dwellings of day to day life of peasants (aka his frat buddies)
he parties,he gyms, he balls. he looks good and smells good and keeps his women limited to strict one night schedules.
he doesn't give two shits about who's fucking whom and whichever latest breakups circulating around campus. and he definitely doesn't keep track of his friends' girlfriends.
except when he spotted you one night , sitting in one corner of the raging neon lit room , fiddling with your fingers as you watched your boyfriend dance with other women .
sukuna told himself he didn't care about how your smile kept faltering or how sad your eyes looked.
yet, he never wanted to punch a man to oblivion so much than at that moment. he reigned himself in that night.
but the next time when he saw your crestfallen expression when your asshole boyfriend dismissed your homecooked lunch before the entire team , sukuna lost it.
so yeah. he did punch his teammate and frat mate to oblivion.
the rest was easy and quick. some bruises here and there. a little blood. but his favourite part was hearing your shy mouth yell "fuck you , you bastard" on your boyfriends bloody and beaten face (courtesy of him)
but sukuna's life somehow became even more convoluted after that.
his eyes track the slight colouring of your cheeks , the way your gaze darts away from his as you mutter a shy "thank you" .
the sweet scent of your shampoo lingers in his nose when you pass by him in the corridors. his mind replays the small smile you gave him when he crossed paths with you, in the dark quiet of his room.
days escalate to weeks and he finds himself sitting on the bleachers after practice, eating from the cute pink bento you prepared for him as he listens to you read out a line from your favourite book.
he surprises himself when he throws away his entire stash of cigarettes after you tell him one afternoon that you dislike the smell of them.
as autumn approaches, sukuna finds himself before you , pink cheeked, handing you the books he picked out in hopes that you would enjoy them.
ryomen sukuna did not care about feelings . he never bothered to question his own lack of them. but then how was he supposed to justify the way his heart beat stuttered when you placed a soft, barely there kiss on his cheek after he walked you to your apartment?
ryomen sukuna did not bother with cheek kisses. he was rough and in the bed,took from the women what he wanted.
and you were the antagonist of everything he was accustomed to. because it wasn't rough and hard and frantic when it came to you. hell, he hadn't even tasted your lips, and somehow sex hadn't even crossed his mind.
he was willing to take even the tiniest bit of affection you showed him. and somehow it was enough for him.
with you it was lingering fingers, and soft glances. easy smiles and reading poetry. eating sundaes at 10pm under the streetlights .
and when he realised that he looked forward to hearing your soft voice as you read to him, and eating your handcooked meals instead of his bland protein shakes and walking you home as the lamposts cast a warm glow on your skin—sukuna realised that he was utterly fucked.
because, as much as he wanted to deny it, he was no fool.
[ SERIES SYNOPSIS ] — it was obvious when this started, it was simply a mutual understanding between two horny college students — with very high libidos, and didn’t want any random stds — that this was purely a sexual relationship only. and yet, both of you are unintentionally toeing the line between that and something else ✦ frat!kuna fwb ✦ ongoing series
[ TAGS ] — MDNI. 18+ only. nsfw. angst. FAMILY DRAMA. a wholeeeeeee lot of plot. fwb. slight degradation. dumbification. sukuna’s thick happy trail. SEXTING. phone sex. dacryphilia. toxic frat culture. sukuna has ANGER issues. crying. toxic co-dependency. TRAUMA. domestic abuse. child abuse. depression. anxiety. wc: 22.6k
series masterlist ✮ previous chp ✮ next chp (coming soon)
the buzzing in sukuna’s ear was deafening.
all the blood in his body felt like it was burning through his skin. anger pounding behind his eyes as they stare at the red hand print on his little brother’s cheek.
the band on stage continues playing, a backdrop of chaos and cheering, all while sukuna stands completely still backstage. his heart pounds against his chest, cracking his ribs with boiling rage. the sweat builds on his face, and he slowly drags a finger towards kaori.
“…did you fucking touch my brother?”
choso, eyes rimmed red and glossy, glances up quickly at the familiar voice. his pupils grow wide at the sight of sukuna, shaking with rage. and already fallen off the edge…actively losing it.
kaori’s eyes widen in shock, her gaze drops to her hand then to her step-son. she swallows thickly. her short black bob lays flat on her head, a black skirt hugs her waist, as the rest flows, reaching her boney ankles. her formal attire stands out in the sea of casually under dressed teenagers and young adults. and none of it can hide the slight wrinkles around her neck, or the unnerving sensation that shoots through sukuna when she meets his gaze.
“choso said you weren’t here—“
she doesn’t get the chance to finish her sentence when sukuna’s suddenly slamming the frail woman into the wall. choso’s eyes widen as sukuna’s frame towers over her with little effort. he ignores how his hand shakes, gripping the collar of her blouse, squeezing. every muscle in his body shifts, tightening his hold on her.
“I asked you a fucking question!” he shouts in her face. unbothered by the sudden looks of people backstage, including ino, who ran into the crowd to call for sukuna when the woman came in.
a few moments earlier….
ino’s standing beside mechamaru, the two watching over choso as he adjusts his guitar for the fourth time that night.
“dude it sounded fine before, now you’re just messing with it,” mechamaru exhales in exasperation.
choso’s brows pinch, “no, this chord is loose.”
“because you keep playing with it.”
“just give me a sec!” choso snaps.
the two boys glance at one another, looking down at their distraught friend. it’s obvious choso’s been on edge since they arrived. but the guy won’t give them a straight answer. instead he keeps fidgeting and messing with his guitar like there’s a fly constantly buzzing in his ear. to make matters worse, ino and mechamaru noticed sukuna coming in with a couple of his friends. last they heard, choso still hasn’t cleared the air with him. is that why he’s on edge?
“got it,” choso finally exhales.
unfortunately, the good news is immediately cut short when choso notices his bandmates looking like they’ve just been shot.
standing behind him is the uncanny woman that looks like a spitting image of their best friend. choso’s heart drops to his ass, and the blood drains from his face in seconds.
“choso.”
the unnerving sound of his name coming from this woman’s lips has a chill running down his spine. his sweat turns cold as he looks up from his seat on the ground, quickly moving to stand up. choso stands at nearly the same height as the tall skinny woma, maybe an inch or so taller.
“mom, how’d you—“
SLAP!
the sound rings so sharp it cuts through the muffled bass bleeding from the stage outside. choso freezes. completely still. his head jerked with the impact, black hair falling into his face as the sting blooms hot across his cheek. for a second, he doesn’t even process what happened. his body locks up as his brain tries to catch up. his eyes are wide and unfocused as he stares somewhere past her shoulder.
ino and mechamaru go dead silent. the two boys stand there like statues, shock written all over their faces as kaori lowers her hand with terrifying calmness. there’s no guilt at all, just that same unreadable expression.
“you lied to me,” she says coldly. the authority in her voice settles instantly, suffocating the space around them.
choso slowly lifts a hand to his cheek, fingertips brushing over the burning skin, still unable to wrap his mind around the fact that she actually hit him. it’s been years— his throat feels tight.
“choso,” she says again, sharper this time. “i’m speaking to you.”
his eyes flick up properly now, confusion and disbelief behind his eyes as he finally looks at her. then instinctively, his gaze darts toward ino and mechamaru.
his jaw clenches.
“can we talk after?” he mutters quickly, voice rougher than normal. “i’m about to go up—”
“no. we’re talking now.”
her fingers wrap around his wrist immediately. it tightens, making choso stiffen as she pulls him toward the farther corner backstage, away from the noise and people passing through, heels clicking.
the second they’re out of earshot, mechamaru’s neck nearly snaps as he whirls toward ino. “why is she here?!” he whisper-shouts.
ino throws his arms up, drumsticks still clutched in one hand. “i don’t know! that was a hard fucking slap too—”
both boys suddenly glance back toward the corner kaori dragged choso to, he’s sitting on a stool as she stands in front of him. and the reality settles ugly in their stomachs. maybe this is exactly why sukuna didn’t want choso around her alone. and neither of them have to voice that realization.
“should we—”
“i don’t want him killing us though—”
“he’ll kill us for sure, but if we call him he probably won’t!” ino cuts in frantically, already moving. “c’mon!”
the two practically trip over themselves rushing out backstage. the second they hit the main crowd, the noise slams into them full force. music shaking the grass, colored lights flashing violently overhead from the strobes attached to the makeshift stage, and bodies shove shoulder-to-shoulder near the elevated stage as another band screams through their set on stage. the battle of the bands was the first huge event kicking off summer break, and the turnout at the rented park is insane and only getting bigger as more people flood in.
finding sukuna in this mess feels impossible.
“i honestly don’t know which way he went!” mechamaru yells over the music, shoving past a group near the bar trucks.
“split up!” ino shouts back immediately. “call me if you find him!”
they separate without another word, because somewhere in this packed park is a six-foot-four soccer captain with face tattoos, a terrifying temper, and enough presence to make grown men shut up when he walks into a room, and right now they need him.
eventually, ino spots a familiar head of pink hair through the sea of people. well….two heads.
an almost identical, much smaller version of the man he’s looking for sits perched on sukuna’s shoulders, glow sticks hanging around yuuji’s neck as the eleven-year-old screams along to the music like he’s completely lost his mind. sukuna isn’t much better, one tattooed arm is hooked around yuuji’s leg while he shouts something toward the stage, feral under the flashing lights.
ino nearly cries in relief, “sukuna!”
he starts shoving through people immediately, bumping shoulders and muttering rushed apologies until he finally reaches the college student. his hand grabs the back of sukuna’s plain black tee.
sukuna whips around instantly, ready to shove whoever grabbed him, then stops. “ino—”
“there’s a small problem!” the drummer’s panting, sweat dripping down his temple from sprinting around the park venue. sukuna’s expression shifts immediately. brows pinching sharply as his stomach drops before ino even finishes speaking. he can see it all over the kid’s face.
“choso’s mom is here.”
everything happens at once. yuuji yelps as sukuna grabs him off his shoulders without warning, shoving the younger boy toward gojo’s side. the white-haired man barely catches him properly before sukuna’s already gripping ino hard by the arm.
“where?”
“backstage—she took him—”
“watch him,” sukuna snaps toward gojo and geto, voice suddenly low cutting through the music.
gojo’s grin vanishes instantly. geto’s brows pinch instantly, that tone isn’t new to them. “for sure,” gojo says immediately.
ino doesn’t hesitate. he spins around and starts forcing his way back through the crowd, sukuna right behind him. except “behind” isn’t even the right word, his shoulder slams into strangers hard enough to make them stumble, dark eyes fixed ahead as the noise around him dulls. his pulse pounds violently in his ears with every step, ino’s words looping over and over in his head.
choso’s mom is here. his jaw clenches so hard it hurts. and somewhere deep in his chest— something ugly starts waking up.
present….
“I asked you a fucking question!”
kaori raises a hand to her step-son’s forearm. lips parting as her eyes dart over his hardened expression, his eyes flashing red, every muscle on his body protruding as sweat beads down his forehead.
“are you deaf?—“ he snaps after she takes too long to respond. his head snaps to choso still sitting on the stool. “she hit you?”
choso stands, head dropping and hand covering his face. his heart pounds against his chest.
“choso—“
choso’s clenches his jaw, blood boiling.
“choso—“
“forget about it!” choso snaps.
sukuna suddenly lets go of kaori, taking the single step to uncover choso’s face. his other hand cups his chin, tilting his face up, and it all hits him at once. the tears building behind his brother’s brown eyes, looking away from the older as he bites down on his teeth, and the bright red hand print on his right cheek.
kaori smooths out the front of her wrinkled blouse, eyes cold as ice.
“choso lied to me,” she says flatly, but not to sukuna, she never talks to him, it’s always at him. “he told me the money was for cram school because he was falling behind in his classes and needed it for his finals.” her lip curls faintly as she gestures toward the backstage area and the unruly screaming crowd beyond the curtains. “then i find out it was for this.”
choso tries pulling away from sukuna’s grip, but sukuna’s frozen, completely still as he stares at the red handprint burning against his little brother’s cheek. the heat builds u see his skin, sweat collecting behind his neck.
“spending time with you has rubbed off on him, something I did not want to know.”
that finally makes sukuna’s eyes snap upward, sharp and furious as his gaze cuts to choso instead of her. “how would she know to give you that money?” he asks quietly, that tone is worse than yelling.
choso visibly shrinks, shoulders tightening as he avoids eye contact. “she asked to meet with me,” he mutters, uncomfortable. “and asked if i needed anything.”
sukuna’s jaw flexes hard enough to hurt. “so when I asked you, it was before that?” choso looks away. and that’s all he needs. sukuna’s head whips toward kaori so fast it nearly startles ino beside them. “I’m getting a fucking restraining order on your fucking ass.”
kaori scoffs immediately. “we both know that’s not an option.” she crosses her arms now, anger bleeding through her composed expression. “i’m more concerned about my son going around asking people for money over some ridiculous band competition while struggling in school—”
“choso isn’t struggling with shit!” sukuna barks. “he’s a fucking genius. that’s how he scammed your psycho ass in the first place.”
people nearby are definitely staring now. a few phones are raised before mechamaru immediately starts hissing at people to stop recording while ino frantically waves others back. choso looks like he wants the floor to swallow him whole.
“are you seriously praising him for lying?” kaori demands.
“to you? fuck yeah.” sukuna steps closer. towering. violent rage practically radiating off him. “actually, i’m disappointed he didn’t ask for more money.”
“ryo—” choso starts weakly, oozing with embarrassment.
“that’s what you get for going behind my back,” sukuna cuts over him, eyes locked onto kaori. “throw all the money you want at him. choso isn’t going anywhere near you.”
“choso,” kaori says again softly, completely ignoring sukuna, that sets him off. choso’s face twists, confusion and guilt and stress all mixing together as he looks between them. “you know i’m just disappointed in your actions,” kaori tells him, voice suddenly gentler in a terrifying way that makes sukuna see red. “you can tell me if you’re having trouble asking your grandfather for things.”
the faux sweetness hits choso like another slap. sukuna sees the hesitation and confusion immediately. choso’s chest tightens, and suddenly sukuna’s moving again.
“stop fucking talking to him like that,” he snarls, voice low and shaking with fury. “jus’ ‘cause he answered your texts doesn’t mean you can suddenly care about him.”
“ry—” choso tries, voice tight.
sukuna doesn’t even hear him.
“you’re outta your fucking mind if you think giving him money is gonna win him over.” sukuna spits at kaori.
“i was helping my son,” kaori fires back immediately.
“your son?” sukuna laughs harshly. “now he’s your son?”
“ryo,” choso says again, louder this time, but sukuna’s blood is roaring too loudly in his ears to listen.
“i didn’t forget the way you fucking treated them,” sukuna steps closer. “some mother leaving bruises on her fucking kid, making him all jumpy. not after the shit you did with me—“
“i said stop!”
the shout cuts through backstage so sharply that even the people shouting over the music nearby go quiet for half a second. sukuna freezes. choso’s chest heaves. his face is bright red now from humiliation and anger. his eyes are glossy with held back tears that only seem to piss him off more.
“I don’t give a shit!” he snaps, voice cracking despite how hard he’s trying to keep it steady.
kaori’s expression shifts quick. “choso—”
“no—” he jerks away before she can touch him again, stumbling closer to sukuna, instinctively. “don’t— don’t touch me.” his breathing is uneven. ino and mechamaru exchange nervous looks from a few feet away. “I don’t fucking care about anything other than playing tonight—that’s it!” choso gestures wildly.
sukuna’s jaw clenches.
“i can handle my own shit,” choso continues, breathing shakily now, attention now on his older brother. “ya don’t have to make a big deal outta something when I didn’t ask for it!”
sukuna’s eyes darken immediately. “the hell you mean by that?”
“i mean i’m not yuuji!” choso explodes. “you don’t have to hover over me every second like i’m two!” a thick ugly silence follows, even choso goes quiet after saying it, but he doesn’t take it back. instead he glances briefly at his older brother, than at his mother, his jaw tightens. “i’ll pay you back the money by the end of summer,” choso snaps, eyes burning now. “so you can be disappointed at me, somewhere else.”
the words hit hard, then choso walks away, angry. truly angry.
sukuna watches his younger brother shove past the backstage clutter, shoulders stiff and fists clenched at his sides and for a split second, the resemblance is almost nauseating. not in appearance — sukuna’s always known choso looked too much like her — but in their temperament. the rage settling ugly beneath his skin until it explodes. sukuna never really noticed how much of himself choso inherited. but kaori notices it immediately, especially when her expression flickers.
choso reaches ino and mechamaru, both immediately crowding him with questions.
“dude are you okay?”
“what the hell was that?”
“did she seriously—”
“i’m fine,” choso cuts sharply. the three fall quiet, choso’s fingers tighten around the neck of his guitar before he looks toward the stage entrance where the current band is finishing up.
“we’re up next,” he says, jaw locked. “and we’re gonna fucking win this.”
ino blinks, then quickly grins. “HELL YEAH,” he shouts, shaking choso’s shoulders.
mechamaru nods quickly beside him, still nervous, but determined all the same. and just like that, the three disappear further backstage toward the stage call area, leaving sukuna alone with kaori.
sukuna’s sharp eyes cut through her, there was no holding back now that choso was gone. his hand snaps back onto her blouse, fingers curling in the fabric until it bunches tight and strains under his grip. he yanks her forward, lifting her just enough that her heels barely touch the ground.
“i’m going to fucking kill you,” he spits. his voice is low, and shaking with controlled rage. it was worse than shouting. “I’ll rip your arm straight out of your body if you—” his grip tightens again, the words weren’t enough to contain what he meant. “—ever lay a finger on him.”
kaori’s breath catches. she’s on her tippy toes now, frozen, sweat gathering at her temple, and for the first time, something in her cracks. this wasn’t another intimidation tactic or performance. it was a real threat from sukuna.
he leans in closer, voice dropping even further, every word precise, already imagining how it would happen. “i won’t even give you a chance to breathe,” his eyes are deep crimson blood, “if you touch them again… i’ll rip you in half before you even know what’s happening.”
and with that, sukuna lets go of kaori, and she stumbles back a step, catching herself with a sharp inhale.
“keep threatening me,” kaori spits, chin lifting even as her voice wavers at the edges. “I don’t take childish boys seriously—“
something in sukuna snaps again. “i’m gonna fucking kill you, you cunt—”
he steps forward, already closing the distance with terrifying quickiness— and then an arm locks around his chest and yanks him backward.
“what the fuck?!” sukuna twists immediately, muscles tensing as he fights the grip, but it holds him steady, pulling him off his line like he weighs nothing. he doesn’t even need to see the face at first, he just knows from the strength alone.
toji.
sukuna digs his heels in, shoulders straining as he tries to wrench free. “get off me,” he snaps, still fighting forward, still locked on kaori like she’s the only thing in the room. but toji doesn’t budge. he just drags him back another step, grounding him with pure force, cutting through the athletes strength with some struggle.
“get a fucking grip!” toji snaps in his ear. he uses every muscle in his body to knock sukuna off his weight again and drag him further away.
sukuna digs his fingers into toji’s forearms, but it’s too late when he’s pushed back to the exit, joining the crowd cheering the current band.
“fuck!” sukuna shouts, receiving a hard shove from toji until he’s completely knocked back. the rage had boiled way over, that toji standing in front of him, just as pissed, then he’s gripping sukuna’s collar, bringing him to his face, fist raised.
“are you fucking seventeen again!” he shouts, the music and chaos around them made everything much calmer than what was actually happening. “I’ll knock your teeth out if you don’t calm down!”
sukuna still struggles—
PUNCH
the hit directly lands on sukuna’s eye, sending him back, but toji keeps him up. fist curling tighter. “you wanna fuck everything for your brothers? do you!”
“you fucking bitch,” sukuna spits on toji, just to receive another punch directly in his solar plexes, almost knocking the wind straight out of him.
his breath catches, a few people nearby step away in surprise. the ocean crashes in the distance. toji still grips his shoulder. sukuna is hunched over, catching his breath, back rising and falling like a beast ready to attack. but instead, sukuna aggressively shrugs toji’s hand away.
“I’m going to fucking kill her,” he repeats under his breath.
toji rubs his face, chest heaving with his own rage.
“woah! what happened!” yuuji shouts over the music, eyes wide as sukuna finds them in the crowd again, toji not far behind.
gojo, geto, megumi, and now nanami, all glance up, all stunned at the bruise slowly forming around sukuna’s eye. sukuna looks furious still, not explosive like before, but still pissed. the anger settling deep. his chest still rises hard under each breath, jaw locked tight enough to crack teeth.
toji walks a few steps behind him, equally pissed, rubbing at his own face.
“jesus christ,” gojo says first, brows lifting. “did you get jumped?”
“shut the fuck up,” sukuna mutters instantly.
his voice comes rougher than usual, and he wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand standing back beside his brother.
yuuji stares up at him wide-eyed. “did someone hit you?!”
sukuna finally looks at him then. his expression doesn’t soften much, but something in his eyes shifts slightly at the sight of his little brother hovering there, worried out of his mind.
“i’m fine,” sukuna says shortly.
yuuji clearly doesn’t buy it. “your eye’s all swollen.”
“and?” sukuna shoots back, dismissive, though the edge in his tone dulls just a little. “still standing.”
toji scoffs behind him. “barely.”
sukuna cuts him a glare sharp enough to kill. for a second, it looks like sukuna might start yelling again, but then he just exhales hard through his nose and leans his head back instead. the ocean crashes somewhere behind them. music shaking the ground beneath their feet.
geto studies the tension between the two men carefully. “what the hell happened?”
“nothing,” sukuna says immediately. yuuji still lingers beside him, nervous energy practically radiating off him, and sukuna notices immediately.“quit staring at me,” he mutters, finally shoving lightly at yuuji’s shoulder. “i said i’m fine.”
yuuji doesn’t even get the chance to respond before sukuna suddenly grabs him by the waist and lifts him back onto his shoulders like nothing happened. except everyone notices the slight wince that flashes across sukuna’s face. his hand brushes his stomach for half a second, fingers pressing there instinctively before he adjusts yuuji’s legs over his shoulders again.
toji notices immediately. his jaw tightens.
“choso is up,” sukuna says instead, voice flat, already looking back toward the stage through the crowd.
yuuji steadies himself, hands gripping the top of sukuna’s head as he tries to lean down to see his brothers bruised eye. “are you sure you’re okay?”
“you ask too many questions,” sukuna mutters. but he keeps one hand locked around yuuji’s calf anyway, secure and steady despite the bruise forming around his eye and the ache spreading through his ribs.
gojo watches the whole thing with raised brows. “wow. tough guy for real.”
“say another word and i’ll knock your teeth out.”
“there he is,” geto sighs. nanami shakes his head slightly, though the corner of his mouth twitches for barely a second. behind them, toji exhales through his nose, still irritated, but at least sukuna has settled for the time being.
everyone’s attention shifts fully to the stage as choso’s band gets called up. megumi sits on toji’s shoulders, arms loosely resting over his dad’s head as the whole group drifts closer to the center front where the crowd thickens. lights flare across the stage, as the anticipation of the next band rolls through the audience. yuuji immediately lights up the second he spots choso stepping into place.
“CHOSOOOO!!!” he screams at the top of his lungs, bouncing on sukuna’s shoulders. sukuna tightens his grip instinctively, keeping him steady. the motion pulls at his bruised ribs again, but he doesn’t show it beyond a slight tightening of his jaw.
“THAT’S MY BROTHER!”
sukuna exhales through his nose, eyes fixed on the stage. choso stands under the lights now, adjusting his position at the mic, shoulders rolling back shaking off everything that happened earlier. the crowd noise builds around him, voices overlapping, everyone cheering.
gojo cups his hands around his mouth. “YOU GUYS GOT THIS!!”
on stage, choso finally looks up, and for a split second, his eyes find the group in the crowd.
yuuji waves wildly like his life depends on it. “you got this choooo!!!!”
sukuna doesn’t wave, but he holds eye contact with choso for a moment longer than anyone else, steady and sharp. the bruise on his face not visible under the shifting lights.
choso inhales sharply, shaking off the rest of his anxiety. sweat building from the nerves and heat. and then they start.
the first hit of ino’s drums sends the entire crowd shouting with excitement…
sukuna’s chest tightens. the uneasiness weighs on his shoulders as a dark pit quietly stirs awake inside him. though his focus remains ahead, eyes locked on his brother performing their first set, there’s that lingering anger that he hasn’t felt in a long time.
not since he was seventeen, standing by the intersection, red and blue lights flashing across his face, and his dad’s car jammed slightly beneath the truck, completely crushed.
“shit—that’s your dad’s car?” kashimo repeats, as if saying it again will snap sukuna back.
but he’s already moving. his feet stumble off the sidewalk before his mind catches up, shoving straight into the street. his skull is split open by the sirens screaming loudly. ambulances and police cars clogging the street. the headlights blur his vision, only seeing the wreck straight ahead.
“SUKUNA—!” kashimo pushes after him, nearly slipping as he forces his way through the growing crowd. officers notice immediately when the two teenagers duck beneath the tape.
“hey! kid—!” an officer grabs for sukuna’s arm.
sukuna violently shoves him off. “THAT’S MY DAD —!”
his voice sounds unfamiliar to him as it tears straight out of his throat, making the officer stumble back just enough for sukuna to break free and start running the second he sees paramedics dragging someone out from the passenger side.
his stomach drops.
the familiar body is pulled out, and all he sees is his father covered in deep red blood.
blood coats his face, runs down his neck, soaks through the front of his shirt. glass sticks to his skin. bruises already spread dark beneath the flashing lights while firefighters shout over each other around the wreck. controlling the truck from starting a fire. sukuna drops beside his dad so fast it scrapes the skin clean off his knees.
“shit—shit, shit, shit—” his hands shake violently as he looks at all the blood.
one of the paramedics tries pulling him back. “kid, you need to move—”
“dad?” sukuna grabs onto jin’s arm anyway, panic rising so violently inside him it feels like he’ll throw up. “dad, what the fuck—? WHAT THE FUCK?!”
his voice cracks at the end, eyes wide as jin tries to respond but only wheezing comes out. blood covers one of his eyes as he struggles to open them properly. every breath sounds wet and broken.
“r-ry—” his fingers twitch upward weakly, trying to reach him.
and suddenly sukuna can’t fucking breathe, the anger explodes through his chest making him dizzy. “YOU SHOULD’VE STAYED WITH ME!” sukuna shouts, tears burning hot behind his eyes. “WHY DID YOU GO AFTER HER?!”
jin barely seems aware of the wreck around him, or the paramedics putting a mask on him, or the blood soaking through his clothes. instead, his entire focus stays on his eldest son kneeling beside him with bloodshot eyes, and an anger he can’t seem to ease.
“ryo…” he wheezes painfully. “men…” his hand finally reaches sukuna’s hand, smearing blood across his skin.
behind them, paramedics pull another person from the opposite side of the car, alive and walking. kaori stumbles against the police cruiser, hysterical, mascara running down her face. her eyes are bloodshot and unfocused.
“ma’am,” an officer says sharply, catching her arm before she falls again. “have you been drinking tonight?”
another officer immediately steps in beside him after smelling it. kaori starts crying harder, words slurring together into panicked nonsense.
sukuna looks up. then something inside him twists… his father is laying in front of him and she’s standing.
“you fucking bitch,” sukuna spits, shoving himself to his feet so fast his knees nearly give out beneath him. jin’s bloodied hand slips from his sleeve, still reaching after him weakly.
“ryomen…”
but sukuna already storms forward. an officer immediately moves between him and kaori. “hey—hey! back up!”
“get the fuck out of my way!” sukuna barks, trying to shove past him again, completely losing it.
kaori sits against the side of the ambulance now while a paramedic presses gauze against the cut on her forehead. another wraps a blanket around her shoulders despite the smell of alcohol practically soaking the air around her. she looks up just in time to see sukuna lunging toward her and for the first time that night, genuine fear crosses her face.
“you did this!” sukuna screams.
two officers grab him before he reaches her. sukuna fights violently in their grip, rage tearing through him he can barely see anything besides red.
“HE WENT AFTER YOU!” he shouts. “HE FUCKING WENT AFTER YOU!”
“kid, calm down—”
“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM THE FUCK DOWN!”
behind him, paramedics suddenly start shouting near jin’s stretcher. one of them yells for another medic, and starts pushing sukuna’s father faster toward the ambulance.
what followed turned into a blur that sukuna’s mind never fully managed to piece together afterward. his body moved before his mind did. one second officers held him back, paramedics shouting around him, and the next he climbed into the ambulance beside his father while someone yelled that he couldn’t ride along unless he stayed seated.
sukuna didn’t even remember agreeing, he just remembered the inside of the ambulance feeling freezing cold, remembered the medic cutting jin’s shirt open, and remembered the blood. so much blood.
sukuna sat there with blood covering both hands, staring while they worked on his father right in front of him. jin barely stayed conscious the entire ride. every now and then his eyes opened halfway, searching weakly until they landed on sukuna again. like he needed to make sure he was still there. and every single time, sukuna felt something twist apart inside his chest.
then the hospital lights replaced the sirens. people moved around him constantly, nurses, doctors, officers asking questions—but sukuna stayed hunched over in the waiting room chair with his elbows on his knees and his father’s blood smeared across his hands. he stared at the floor so long he lost track of everything.
the automatic doors eventually opened again. heavy footsteps quickly coming towards him. toji. and then his gramps following close behind him.
“ryomen,” toji says immediately, breath uneven like he rushed there as fast as possible. “what happened?”
sukuna doesn’t answer. he just sits there, shoulders tense, brows pinched tight while his fingers curl harder against his palms. staring at the blood in the creases of his hands. then he mutters. quietly. low. “she killed him.”
toji’s expression shifts instantly. “what?”
“she killed him,” sukuna repeats, harsher this time, the words scraping out of his throat. “she killed him.”
sukuna barely notices the two men hovering around him. he keeps staring at the blood on his hands instead. his scraped knees. his football uniform still on.
sukuna genuinely can’t tell how many hours or minutes pass. the hospital waiting room grows quieter as the night drags on. his grandfather quietly rests his head back, while toji paces near the windows like he might punch straight through the glass. and then finally, the doors open again, a doctor walks out. everyone freezes immediately. and sukuna doesn’t need to hear the words, before the doctor even speaks.
he’s dead.
and it’s her fault.
the hard yank on his hair snaps sukuna straight back into the present. music crashes through the field while people scream their heads off around them. yuuji sitting on top of sukuna’s shoulders has one hand gripping sukuna’s phone while the other fully tugs on his brothers hair to keep balance.
“GRAMPS DO YOU SEE HIM?!” yuuji screams into the phone loud enough to blow out the speaker.
gramps voice crackles back immediately. “you keep shaking the damn phone!” the camera angle violently jerks around. all yuuji can see is the top half of the old man’s forehead shoved way too close to the screen. “stay still!”
“OHHHHHHHHH!!!!” yuuji completely loses his mind the second choso steps up to the mic again.
the entire field erupts with him.
ino’s drums shake through the speakers while the guitars kick in harder, the stage lights flashing over choso and his band as they absolutely light up the crowd. even nanami cups his hands around his mouth to yell, whatever dignity he usually carries cracking under the sheer energy of the performance. gojo screams something incomprehensible beside him. geto laughs while shoving him. megumi claps from toji’s shoulders with far more enthusiasm than he’d ever show on a regular day.
and somehow yuuji’s excitement finally drags sukuna with it. the tension in his chest loosens for the first time all night as yuuji bursts into louder cheering.
the two brothers start yelling toward the stage together, voices getting swallowed by the music and chaos around them while choso stands under the lights. and sukuna’s resolve hits him that very moment too.
he’s not letting these two out of his sight.
the celebrations, surprisingly, continued through the night until all the performers were done.
sukuna and the boys watched in the audience as all the bands crowded onto the stage and the promoters stood in the middle with a list and began announcing the six bands that will be proceeding to the semi-finals in two weeks.
“DEATH PAINTINGS DEATH PAINTINGS DEATH PAINTING!” yuuji starts the cheers, sitting back on sukuna’s shoulders. the rest quickly join, and as the four bands are announced, the chanting grows louder. the crowd joining, a universal want for choso’s band, death paintings, to be one of the semi-finalists.
“and the final band to make it into the semi finals is….” the host waits for the anticipation to simmer, but it’s not realized with how unbelievably loud the chanting has gotten for different bands, but the loudest being for— “DEATH PAINTINGS!!”
—
the culmination of celebration among the group extends to choso. him and his two friends are on cloud nine after the announcement, riding the adrenaline. somehow, choso manages to push everything else aside that almost swallowed the entire night.
people keep stopping him before he can even take three steps, congratulating the band, asking questions, slapping him on the back. toji leaves before everyone else, megumi staying behind with the group as security pushes the crowd out of the venue field and toward the beach nearby. bonfires burn in the distance and music continues from portable speakers.
everyone was distracted, except sukuna. his decision settled during the performance and by the time they return home, well after midnight, the house felt exhausted. choso’s friends immediately crash his room. megumi sleeping in yuuji’s room without complaint. doors shut, voices fading until silence settles over the house.
sukuna sits alone at the kitchen table. the only light comes from his laptop screen.
the black envelope sits beside it. opened.
a thick paper rests beneath his hand as he reads the letter again for what must be the hundredth time. an invitation. the one he’s waited to receive again for the past five years.
a la liga club. three weeks training with one of the best clubs in the world. three weeks that could change his entire future. the letter might as well weigh a hundred pounds. for weeks, sukuna pushed away replying, even when everyone brought it up. he had more pressing things at the front of his mind….
his eyes drift toward the hallway where his brothers sleep. a few months ago the answer would’ve been simple. obvious, even…but since kaori, everything’s changed.
his jaw tightens as his fingers move across the keyboard.
Dear Recruitment Team,
Thank you for extending the invitation. I am honored by the opportunity and would like to formally accept.
But before finalizing travel arrangements, I would like to discuss one logistical matter. I am the primary caretaker of my two younger brothers and am responsible for their supervision and wellbeing during the summer. As a result, I will not be able to travel without them and would like to ask whether accommodations can be made for my brothers to accompany me during the three-week training period. Their presence would not interfere with my participation in training or any club obligations.
his eyes narrow, reading over the email. he isn’t asking, he already knows what he’s doing. if the club says yes, yuuji and choso are coming. end of discussion. if they don’t…then. his fingers flex, veins straining.
both outcomes will result in consequences. the first is choso, but after today, he doesn’t care if choso throws a fit, or if he gets called controlling or insane. he isn’t leaving them behind after tonight and remembering exactly how fast everything can disappear.
his fingers resume moving.
I understand this is an unusual request, but I wanted to address it before confirming. If necessary, I would be happy to discuss the situation further and provide any information you may need.
Thank you again for this opportunity. I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Ryomen Sukuna Itadori
sukuna leans back in his chair and stares at the ceiling. for a moment, the silent churning deep in his chest twists… the lingering feeling that’s been pushed returning. a familiar one that’s ruled his life for years. bad things happen whether you’re ready or not. people leave whether you hold onto them or not. life keeps moving whether you’re scared of it or not. and if that’s true—
his gaze drops back to the laptop. the cursor hovers over the send button. the house remains completely silent. inside their rooms, his brothers sleep peacefully, completely unaware that their summer plans are about to change.
SEND
the email vanishes.
for several seconds he simply stares at the screen. then he reaches over, grabs the black envelope, and crushes it in his fist. three weeks in spain. suck it up.
—
the following two weeks went by with a breeze. aside from two separate incidents in two completely different places. one unraveled in the itadori household a few days after the battle of the bands tournament, and the second was in a certain hospital staircase that same day.
your jaw tenses. shoko quietly stands beside you, your hands tucked behind your backs. a resident stands across from you while an attending stands front and center. the staircase feels too small and you already know this isn’t about a patient, glancing at shoko beside you.
the attending, your father, removes his glasses, folding them in his hand. “you know why we’re having this conversation?”
you shift your weight, shoko glances at you. heat crawls up from the back of your neck. you finally respond with a small shrug. the resident cringes, your father doesn’t. “you asked shoko to ask a resident physician to prescribe medication to you.”
you swallow thickly biting your cheek. shoko opens her mouth, but your dad holds a hand up.
“I’ll give you a chance. I’m asking her to answer first.” you can feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to meet his gaze. which you do.
“i asked a question,” you clear your throat. “I was asking shoko to ask for me.”
“you put them in an inappropriate position,” he cuts, silencing you in seconds.
your chest tightens, heat spreading to your face now. the embarrassment sits heavy on your chest now. you see shoko try to raise her hand beside you again.
“can I—“ the attending finally turns his head to shoko. “we were just talking.” she clears her throat, “we both didn’t know what the policy was on—“
“the policy is your supervisors can’t prescribe you medication,” he snaps.
shoko nods, glancing at the resident, who’s supervising this summer’s undergrad students, including her and you. “yeah, I was told.”
you scratch your wrist awkwardly, “I didn’t mean to put anyone in an…inappropriate position.” you wet your lip, pushing the coil crawling up your throat. “it won’t happen again.”
he processes your apology. his eyes flick to the resident and shoko, dismissing them. shoko glances at you as she follows the resident out, the staircase door shutting behind her. the silence grows louder with just the two of you. you inhale sharply, your head falling back, hands covering your face.
“dad—“
“do you need a new prescription?”
“no,” you cut, hands shielding you from his gaze.
“then why did you ask? have you spoken to your doctor about this?”
“I’m not—“ you stop, taking a deep breath. “I don’t need another prescription. and I told you already I’ve been talking to my doctor. I was just asking a question— I was just stressed.”
“why? you’ve done all this before,” he cuts, brows furrowed, and arms crossed in confusion.
“I’m stressed about other stuff,” you exhale, hands falling, face still burning from the humiliation earlier.
“what other stuff?” he pushes. genuinely confused about what you could be worrying about. “you don’t have classes or exams. you know everything. if you have any questions you can ask me—“
“yeah, I’m worried about other stuff, like generally,” you huff, rubbing your face. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“you’re not taking any medication now?” he changes the subject back, brushing off your concerns to push his own out, “jennie told me you weren’t when she visited.”
your teeth clench, rubbing your eye, “yeah, I don’t need it anymore. I haven’t had them since finals.”
his eyes narrow, you can see the concern pinching his brows. “I don’t have a problem if you still need to take them. you know that—“
“yeah, but I don’t need them,” your stomach curls tighter, especially when he glances over you like…like you’re causing him more stress. it’s confusing, you know tjat. saying you don’t need any more medication, but then asking a resident a question about whether they can give you some for stress. it doesn’t make sense, and at this point you’re getting frustrated with yourself. “it’s not a big deal. next time I just won’t ask anyone anything,” you mutter.
“we’re having a conversation, so don’t do that,” he shakes his head in disappointment. the pit in your stomach growing at the sight. “I want to understand why you asked.”
you stomach churns, “it’s fine.”
the silence stretches between you, then you finally decide to leave.
“you should go home,” he steps to block the door.
you barely blink, the comment rolling off your back as you hum. “great.”
your father exhales through his nose. “i’m serious.”
“i know.”
“you don’t sound like you know.”
your jaw tightens, ignoring the passive aggressive tone. “can i go now?” you ask.
he stares at you for another second before stepping aside. the staircase door swings open and you leave. your shoes slap against the floor as you move through the hallway. nurses pass, residents pass, families pass, and it all irritates you. you don’t even realize how fast you’re walking until another set of footsteps catches up beside you.
“hey.” you don’t look over. shoko keeps a quick pace beside you anyway. “hey.”
“what?” you stop.
the word comes out harsher than intended. shoko is unfazed, “i’m sorry.”
you glance at her. the two of you standing by the lockerroom. “for what?”
“for telling the resident.”
“yeah well you didn’t tell on me.”
“still.”
you put the code in before entering the locker room, shoko follows. “still what? i asked a question and apparently that’s illegal.”
“that’s not what i mean,” shoko sits on the bench as you take your backpack out.
you sigh, “i know what you meant.” you start changing. “it’s just annoying that I was scolded like that and I didn’t even wanna do this stupid ass program in the first place. no offense,” you start rambling. “but seriously, how many times does this make it—like the fifth freaking time I get yelled at in front of these residents and I haven’t even done anything that crazy. asking a question?! god forbid!” you throw your hands up in sarcastic defense. you scoff at the situation rolling your eyes.
“this whole thing is just a humiliation ritual of being a fucking doormat, and having every single person around me be the biggest ops ever—not you,” you put your shirt on, pulling your jeans up right after. “let’s bet how much shit I’m gonna get if I just mention to jennie how annoyed I am,” you roll your eyes, knowing exactly what she’ll say. “if yOU doN’t LiKe it sO mUCh jusT qUiT,” you mimic her voice.
shoko, who has been quietly listening, stifles her own laugh. “why do you let her get under your skin?”
you deadpan. “she is the only person that can ragebait me until i wanna tear my hair out,” you’re basically clawing at your skin. “can’t even complain about anything anymore,” you mutter more to yourself. “whatever.”
shoko gives you a sympathetic look.
“call me when you finish, I’ll come pick you up,” you conclude, waiting for shoko’s hum before leaving.
and just a few miles away, another incident was unfolding in the itadori garage.
“what?” choso’s voice cuts through the room. “you’re lying.”
“you don’t want a free vacation?”
“it’s not a free anything! i’m not going to spain! the tournament—”
“yeah, the finals are the day before our flight, still lying—”
“i’m not lying! when we win we’re gonna be meeting with producers and stuff—”
“and stuff,” sukuna laughs. “you can zoom in.”
“that’s not the same thing!”
“sounds the same.”
“it literally isn’t!”
the garage erupts. the old fan rattles uselessly in the corner, guitar cables snake across the floor and choso stands in the middle, face red with frustration while sukuna lounges against the workbench like this is the funniest thing he’s heard all week.
“i’m not missing opportunities because you’re going to spain!” choso shouts.
sukuna shrugs, “good thing i’m not asking.”
“you can’t do that!”
“watch me.”
“ryomen!”
“choso!”
the younger teen looks seconds away from committing a felony, his jaw tightens, anger bubbling dangerously, “you’re possessively controlling.”
“shocker,” sukuna replies lowly, checking his phone after it buzzes.
“you can’t just drag people across the world!”
“sure i can.”
“i’m sixteen!”
“exactly.”
choso makes a strangled noise just as the garage door suddenly slides open.
“hey, i brought—” ino freezes, a pizza box hangs from one hand. his eyes dart between the brothers. “…oh.”
“tell him he’s insane!” choso shouts, voice cracking and pointing at the tattooed brother lounged in the corner on his phone.
“tell him i’m right,” sukuna says at the same time with less effort as his younger brother.
ino slowly starts backing out. “nope.”
choso’s jaw clenches, “ino.”
ino shakes his head more, “no.”
“ino,” choso’s words strain.
“naaahhhh man.” the teen points at both of them, pizza box fumbling. “last time i got involved in your family drama i got interrogated by psycho satan.” he means sukuna.
“that’s dramatic,” sukuna snorts.
“you threatened me,” ino huffs.
“that’s different,” sukuna casually scratches his large tatted bicep, with an added shrug.
ino frowns, “how is that different?!”
suluna shrugs, while the younger teen throws his hands in the air, choso’s black hair is messy and pushed out of his face from how much he’s run his hands through it. “he accepted the offer!”
“what offer?” ino asks.
“the spain one,” choso frowns, and sukuna eyes dart up, not realizing how many people knew about this offer. ino blinks, lips parting and eyes lighting up.
“…spain spain?”
“yes, spain spain,” choso snaps.
“like beaches?”
“yes.”
“europe?”
“yes!”
“yoooooo,” ino is smiling wide now, stepping further into the garage. “that’s so cool!”
“dude—“ choso snaps.
ino cringes, but the smile doesn’t go away, “sorry, but like DAAAAANG, remember a couple years ago, we talked about it—duuude,” ino’s attention shifts to sukuna, smiling wide. “congrats!!”
“what—stop glazing him!” choso interrupts, and ino holds back his tongue, conflicted.
“cool but like yeah, no, that’s actually insane, why does choso needa go with you? not cool,” ino falls in line.
choso relaxes just a bit, “thank you.”
“but also…” ino hesitates, and choso’s eyes narrows immediately.
“don’t.”
ino puts the pizza on the table, shrugging, “i’m just saying—”
“ino.”
“i mean…spain is kinda sick,” he plays devils advocate. and sukuna barks out a laugh.
“ino!” choso looks ready to throw his guitar right at his best friend. “you never help, shit friend.”
“he’ll get over it,” sukuna says to ino, who feels slightly guilty, opening the box to take out a slice while it’s hot.
“i won’t!” choso shouts, putting his guitar down.
sukuna ignores him, “he will.”
“i won’t!”
“you always do.” the words come out too casual, and for half a second, the garage falls quiet. choso’s jaw tightens, and sukuna’s grin fades slightly, watching his younger brother’s expression shift, the anger burning hotter. the same anger claws at sukuna’s own chest remebering why he has to force choso to come with him.
“I’m staying with gramps,” choso’s voice is lower. his own brain trying to wrap around the sudden information. he hadn’t even known that his brother accepted the offer when he wouldn’t even talk to anyone about it. and to find out he accepted it and was told it’s okay for him to bring his brothers without even asking him?!
“gramps is going to the lake with his war buds like he does every summers so yeah, you’re not staying here alone.” sukuna tsks, standing up. he glares at choso across the garage, waiting for choso to test him. the tension suddenly hits ino full force. the bickering had turned into something charged in a matter of seconds. his chewing slows, awkwardly.
“I’ll stay with ino,” choso pushes, eyes darting between sukuna’s.
“this lying shit?” sukuna scoffs pointing at ino without glancing at him.
ino chokes, coughing, “me?!!”
sukuna frowns, eyes narrowing sharply, “I fucking asked you if he saw that bitch of mom and you said no. that constitutes as lying.”
ino lowers his head.
“I told him not to say anything,” choso defends, “he’s my friend.”
“exactly why you’re not staying with him because he’ll lie and I won’t know if you see that woman again or not.” sukuna takes a step towards his brother.
“i took money from her,” choso tilts his head, clearly not afraid of the older as his eyes narrow. “I’m gonna give her that money back.”
“I don’t give a shit if you don’t or if you take more money from her. she owes you and yuuji a shit ton of money anyways,” sukuna stops in front of choso. an unknown look crossing the man’s face, and choso hesitates for a moment. “I have a problem that she laid her hands on you.”
choso’s jaw clenches, stepping away. “I stole money from her.”
“so you think you deserve to get hit?” sukuna snaps. choso rolls his eyes, grabbing a slice of pizza, forcing himself to act casual. “she’s a toxic psycho.”
“whatever, man,” choso mutters, dismissing the conversation about his mother. an uncomfortable twist settling deep in his stomach making him slightly nauseous. “I don’t wanna talk about her with you.”
“why because I don’t sugarcoat how horrible she is?” sukuna scoffs. choso’s defensive attitude quietly triggers the older. choso rolls his eyes again, gaze locked at the pizza, but sukuna catches it and ino sinks further in the corner. “stupid ass teen,” sukuna grabs his keys from his pocket, walking towards the door, opening the garage. “fucking proving my damn point by acting stupid as fuck.”
sukuna scoffs, pissing himself off as the memories of this woman flood his mind. jaw tensing as he looks at choso turning away from him. “mothers don’t beat their kids, and she was more of dad’s fucking mental patient than a mom to you”
“how the fuck would you know!” choso finally snaps. “your mom left and my mom isn’t yours, I have my own memories!”
“the ones when you were two?” sukuna scoffs, walking towards the parked pick-up truck. “I doubt you remember shit before you were twelve,” sukuna says the comment without realizing the flame he lit.
“I remember you going to jail too and losing your first club offer,” choso spits. “great example compared to her. definitely my role model!”
sukuna stops dead in his tracks, jaw tightening, he glances over his shoulder and choso doesn’t back down. “you’re more like her than me or yuuji are, so it’s pretty hypocritical that I’m being forced to go to spain with another psycho.”
mechamaru had just parked his car and is exiting when he hears the yelling from his friend’s open driveway. ino has attempted to blend in with the couch, empty plate in his lap while choso’s chest heaves. the strings in his heart strain ignoring the unfamiliar look on his brothers face. especially when sukuna fiddles with his keys with one hand, the jangling fills the tense air, before sukuna licks his teeth.
“at least I’ve never hit you guys.”
the response is deeply honest that choso pauses, unable to respond. sukuna swings his keys between his fingers, rubbing the back of his neck and walking down the driveway. he passes mechamaru silently, unlocking his truck.
the teens are left in defending silence minutes after sukuna’s already driven away. ino and mechamaru exchange looks, especially when choso disappears into the house to wash his face.
at some point the houses thin out and the ocean appears. the clouds hang low and heavy overhead, turning the late afternoon gray. rain threatening to fall any minute. sukuna parks in an empty lot overlooking the beach and kills the engine. his hands are locked around the steering wheel, staring straight ahead.
you’re more like her than me or yuuji are.
his jaw aches. choso hadn’t even sounded afraid when he said it, he was angry enough to mean it. sukuna drags both hands over his face, wishing he can claw at everything. “fuck.”
the word disappears, waves crashing against the shore, ahead as his phone vibrates inside. and miles away, parked beside an empty field, you do the same.
the hospital sits somewhere behind you, and your home is in the opposite direction, and neither destination sounds appealing. the engine is off. the windows are cracked. summer wind drifts through the car as you stare at absolutely nothing. your father’s voice rings around your skull making you rest your head against the window. you don’t want to go home or go back or do anything.
eventually your phone lights up.
after another few minutes of staring at the ocean, his hand finally reaches for his phone. notifications flood the screen, group chats, soccer shit, gojo being annoying, something from toji, and his thumb scrolls through the usual unopened messages until he sees a certain contact.
his thumb stops. three days ago.
crybaby: where’s the video of your brother’s band?
his gaze lingers. for some reason, that message irritates him less than everything else. he opens the chat and for a moment he considers not responding, his thumb mindlessly scrolls through your earlier conversation, until the photo you sent him fills his screen.
dumbass: they made it to the semifinals
a beat passes..
dumbass: i forgot to send the video
your phone vibrates against the passenger seat making you glance down and see his name, and despite the day you’ve had, despite everything, your chest loosens just a little.
crybaby: woww
crybaby: a whole 3 days later
crybaby: i was starting to think u hated me
sukuna snorts. his head tips back against the seat. outside, thunder rumbles somewhere over the water.
dumbass: good guesser
you roll your eyes, holding back a smile.
crybaby: haha u’re soo funny
sukuna scrolls through his camera roll. easily finding the video gojo had taken and sending it to you. you heart the message, and a few minutes later the texts flood in.
crybaby: WHAAAA
crybaby: WTHHHH UR BROTHER IS SO GOOD
dumbass: u def thought they were gonna be ass
crybaby: ngl…I wasn’t expecting much
dumbass: rude
crybaby: ONLY BC I’ve gone to a few in the past and RARELY r they ever good
crybaby: NO OFFENSE
dumbass: I’m offended
you don’t realize the smile on your face as you watch another video sukuna sends. relaxing back in your seat, jaw agape.
crybaby: no like actually wth — ur brother’s voice is making me tear up
crybaby: it’s so angelic esp for a hard rock band
sukuna snorts.
dumbass: crybaby
crybaby: did I say CRY? I said TEAR UP smh smhh
a few beats pass, not long enough for you to fully exit your messages, but long enough to watch the little typing bubble appear then disappear, and then your face fills your screen.
….incoming FaceTime from dumbass….
your lips part, cheeks warming as you easily click accept, the call connecting. sukuna’s face fills your screen, the camera angle is terrible, but somehow he still looks unfairly attractive.
the lighting inside the truck is dim from the storm clouds outside, shadows cutting across the sharp lines of his face. his pink hair looks soft, a few strands hang loose across his forehead. his tattoos disappear beneath the collar of his black shirt, the dark markings curling up the side of his neck. his forearm rests against the driver’s side window, broad shoulders, strong jaw—you hate how hot he looks.
on the other side of the call, sukuna feels much the same.
he expected your voice, but there’s something about seeing your face. your hair is slightly messy from your long day. you’re leaning sideways against the drivers seat, cheek pressed against the headrest of your car seat. golden evening light spills through the window in front of you, softening everything. you look tired, but pretty…really pretty. something in his chest loosens.
your eyes blink slowly, then narrow, “what happened to your face?”
sukuna’s brow furrows, “what?”
you lean closer to the camera, “your eye.”
his hand immediately comes up, glancing at the mirror in front of him. forgetting about the faint bruise caused by toji a few days ago, and barely noticeable to anyone except apparently you.
his fingers brush beneath it. “nothing.”
you stare and sukuna stares looks back at his phone, “that’s not nothing.”
“it’s nothing.”
“yeah definitely,” you sarcastically quip.
“it’s literally nothing.” your expression flattens. his matches yours instantly. neither of you budge. the silence stretches then—
“did you get punched?”
the offended look that flashes across his face almost makes you laugh. “the fuck kind of question is that?” he snaps.
you shrug fast, “it’s a valid question.”
“no it isn’t.”
“it is, since that’s what people who get punched in the face look like,” you say, like you’re some expert.
“speaking from experience?” he tosses, irritation scratching at your questions.
“yeah,” you lie, and he probably knows that, but still he leans back in his seat again. “it definitely looks like you got a bruise.”
“yeah, because i play a contact sport,” he huffs. you squint suspiciously as he rolls his eyes so hard it physically pains him. “gojo elbowed me in the middle of a game.”
“see?” you point triumphantly. “that wasn’t hard.”
sukuna tsks, “you’re annoying.”
“i was curious,” you shrug.
“it’s a bruise.”
“on your face.”
“you sound like yuuji.” the corner of his mouth twitches, barely there, but enough for the tightness in both of your chests to ease just a little. your lips part, still looking at the bruise.
“does it hurt?” your voice is softer, allowing something warm to settle in sukuna’s chest.
a smirk tugs on the players lips. “yeah. you gonna come make me feel better?” the teasing has your thighs clenching. his voice is low, deep, watching your eyes dart off screen. “where are you right now?”
you shift in your seat, flipping the camera to do a 360 of your surroundings. sukuna notices your bag in the passenger seat, “you get off work?”
“yup left early,” you flip the camera back, your phone on your lap as you fix your necklace in the mirror.
“you ditched?”
you laugh, “no,” you pick your phone back up, “I was kicked out.”
sukuna whistles. “bad girl. what’d you do?”
you shrug, leaning back in your seat, “I punched a patient.”
sukuna’s eyes blow wide, “you’re lying.”
you snort, “obviously,” you smile, pretty lips glossy as you wet them. “just had a chat with my dad and he told me to go home.”
“are you home?”
you shake your head, tilting just a bit as you watch sukuna through the phone. the silence fills both your environments. “doesn’t look like you’re home.”
“got work soon,” he answers, eyeing the curve of your jaw as you look out the window as if you weren’t parked in a deserted lot. still he can’t help the churning in his stomach as you fiddle with your earrings, lips parting again.
“so you gotta go soon?”
sukuna can’t fully read your emotions through a shitty phone screen, but he can catch the slight sweetness in your tone. and that was enough to pull a subtle smirk from him. he’s fully resting his back against his seat, arm propped on the open window holding his phone, while the other rests on his lap.
“I have some time,” he tilts his head, eyes narrowing a tad when you hum. “you have something in mind?”
you wet your lip, eyes twinkling as you nod your head. “yeah, i wanted to ask you a question.” he smirks, letting you continue. “how fast did you cum when i sent you that picture on saturday?” sukuna’s smile falters. “because you sent me a pic like three minutes later.”
you really love to push his buttons. the scowl is written all over his face. “i was already on edge, so i was doing it for awhile before you even sent it.”
your smile grows, if possible, a devilish twinkle in your eyes. “so i really helped you cum, ryo, hmm?” you wet your lip, and the action, coupled up with your sultry tone, has sukuna’s pants growing tight, “you made a big mess. cumming all over yourself like that,” you tsk, teasingly. “do you always make a big mess when you play by yourself?”
sukuna’s jaw tightens, his crotch swelling from your teasing. the bulge pushing up against his jeans, just as his palm digs against the evidence. unable to hide the fact that you’re turning him on.
“don’t be embarrassed, ry,” you coo with faux sweetness. “big boys make messes too.”
a loud, strangled scoff, escapes the man’s mouth. cheeks hot, as you continue degrading him. “suddenly y’er all confident because I can’t pin you down from here?”
you shrug, little smirk still playing on those pretty lips of yours. fuck, he misses having those lips on him. kissing you deeply, swallowing your whines and strangled moans. “am I not allowed to make you feel better?”
“fucking teasing me,” he grunts, jaw tightening as he palms his bulge.
heat pools between your legs, face warm as you see his shifting. “did I make you hard?” the excitement was obvious in your tone.
“don’t act surprised,” he mutters, flipping the camera to see the big bulge he’s gripping over his jeans. sukuna see’s the dizzy like look you have, lips parting.
“take it out.”
he smirks. you’re a little perv. and not so surprisingly, you see the uncoordinated moving as he unbuckles his belt, the phone dropping then getting raised again to see the way he pushes the waistband of his black Calvin’s, dragging it down. his dark pubes not as well groomed as it usually is, and that has you biting back a whimper.
fuck fuck, you miss pressing your face there, licking the coarse hairs, kissing his base.
and finally his hand wraps around the chubby length, freeing his semi-hard cock in his car. thunder cracks in the distant, rain starting to pour.
“gonna keep telling me what to do, or do you want closeups?” he teases, stroking his base lazily, biting his lip.
you shift in your seat.
“spit on it—“
you already see his spit fly and hit his flushed cock, immediately making your cheeks sting.
“c’mon, gotta keep talkin’ to me like my personal slut,” he hasn’t done anything since spitting on his cock, waiting for you to continue your directions. if you’re gonna act all dominant, then he’ll give you all the control…at least when you’re separated by a phone screen.
“stroke your cock…slow,” you command, wetting your lip as you watch him, and he listens. a wave of quiet confidence floods your head at his submission. “rub your slit with your thumb…yeah…” your lips part watching him stroke his cock. “faster.”
his breath is heavy behind the phone, grip tightening when he reaches the base, before twisting his hand back up, thumb collecting his pre and spreading it to the rest of his cock.
“do you usually jerk off like this?” your lewd curiosity always makes him smirk.
“I’m taking your direction.”
“jerk off like you usually do then…I wanna see,” you interrupt.
he snorts, loosening his jaw, before his pace picks up, tugging on his impressive size, collecting more pre and doing his best to self lubricate. his grunts are slightly louder, sending heat to your pussy, you can already feel your drenched panties.
“let go.”
a strangled noise comes out of him as his hand lets go making his cock bob between his legs, his thighs flex, jaw tightening as more pre cum leaks out in humiliation. “fuck.” he runs his hand on his abs, lifting his shirt higher, watching his own cock throb and twitch mid-air. the weight angling his cock down.
“ow!”
he doesn’t fully realize what you’re doing, until you yelp. his brows pinch, eyes narrowing because your phone is no longer on your face, but on the ceiling of your car.
“what’re you doing?” his words fall on deaf ears, when you’re suddenly lifting the camera back up, and revealing the state you’re in. you’re completely naked from the waist down, shirt pushed above those beautiful tits, and your lips all wet from how much your biting them. “fuck, baby.”
you smile, pushing the drivers seat further back to give yourself space, cheeks hot as you spread your legs. “lemme see your face, ryomen.”
he easily flips the camera back. you blush seeing the pink dusting his cheeks. “you like risky stuff,” he points.
“I’m alone.”
“still public.”
your lips part, rubbing your nipple, slowly teasing yourself. his eyes darken, gaze darting between your face and those beautiful perky nipples he wishes he could suck this very second. fuck, when you’d run your nails through his hair when he’d bite your perky buds and you’d moan so sweetly.
“you’re not even twisting them hard enough,” he tsks, watching you play with yourself…incorrectly. “how often do you touch yourself.”
“not as often as you touch me.”
sukuna chokes. you’re way too fast for him, and it catches him off guard every once in a awhile. he quickly recovers, “show me how wet you are.”
you listen, managing to face the passenger seat and have the phone propped on your bag.
“aw, you’re dripping,” he coos, biting his lip, as you run your fingers through the mess, spreading your pretty folds for him. “dirty girl,” he groans, hand sneaking down to his twitching hard cock—
“don’t touch yourself,” you cut possessively. “it’s my turn.”
“I didn’t even cum,” he tsks, but still eases back, thick legs spreading wider as he watches you shrug. “fine, lemme see how many fingers you can put in that little pussy.”
“one.”
“I said: let me see,” his voice drops an octave and that has you clenching and blushing all over. “lick your finger.”
you lean close to the camera, making a show of caressing your plump bottom lip, then easing your middle finger in. your suck the digit, eyes heavy as they look directly at sukuna. he silently watches, jaw loosening as he tries his best to keep his hand away, especially when you pull your middle finger out, flipping him off.
“cute,” he smirks, screenshotting. “put it in.” he tilts his head, humming as you sit back just a little. he eyes the way you open your legs, running your finger down your body, before circling your clit. your lips part and sukuna notices the way your back arches just a bit, finally pushing in, “theere we go.”
you hum along, jaw agape as you curl your finger in slowly pumping your finger. it’s not the same though. you hate having to do this shit yourself, it would kill the mood if sukuna wasn’t praising you on the other line.
“fuck, your pussy looks so pretty,” he groans, “so hot.”
you bite back a moan, lashes fluttering as you move your finger back to your clit. unaware of the disappointment until you hear a loud tsk.
“why’d you take your finger out?” sukuna barks.
you frown, still rubbing your clit, “It doesn’t feel as good.”
“bullshit,” he huffs, “put two fingers in.” your cheeks flush hot, collecting your arousal on your finger and teasing your hole again. “fuck your pussy like I told ya too.”
you wet your lips with attitude he can clearly read, especially when you add a sarcastic, “yes, sir.”
pre oozes from the brute’s twitching cock.
still, his eyes narrow with lust as he watches you dip your pretty little fingers in that tight hole. it’s always the initial stretch that has your lips parting. “keep moving your fingers. curl ‘em,” he husks, voice much lower and sexier, unbelievably turned on. “dirty girl fingerin’ herself in her car.”
you whine, back pressed against the door, as you angle your hips up, back arching as you continue fingering yourself, especially when you curl them and finally feel that spot. “got it?”
your glossy lips part, nodding, “y-yeah haah—ry-touch y’rself to me.“
fuck.
he doesn’t waste a second grabbing his cock and working himself up to the pace you’ve set. his own jaw clenches, watching your legs tremble as you pump your pretty fingers in and out, watching the way your fingers glisten every time you pull out, pretty nipples all hard and exposed, and lips glossy.
his thigh trembles, jaw tensing as he squeezes his base, holding himself back as you pull your fingers out to stimulate your neglected clit.
“good girl,” he husks under his breath, unaware of how much he enjoys watching you and getting jealous from nothing. you respond with a heavy sigh, tongue poking out as you feel yourself getting closer.
“gun- cum with me…ry-haah?”
he starts working his chubby cock, wishing to death he can feel the heat of your pussy against his swollen tip. “yeah, keep working those little fingers, make yourself cum.”
your whine pitches a little higher in the small car. thighs spreading wider as you stimulate your clit, oblivious to the low praises sukuna is muttering, feeling his heavy balls clench up. and just as your about to reach the edge, toes curling in your shoes, your phone tips over, hitting the ground just as sukuna hears you moan—
“anhh—“
“what the fuck!?”
you whine, back hitting the door as your legs close around your hand. lips parted as your chest rises with each heavy breath. you don’t even realize what happened until you hear your name being called, followed be another “where the fuck did you go?!”
your brows furrow, glancing at where your phone once was, then to its place on the floor of the passenger side. “oh.”
you move over the center, reaching down to lift your phone, and the moment your face comes to view, sukuna’s jaw tenses more.
“you came?”
your lips part sitting back in your seat. “yeah, I think i accidentally kicked my bag. did you cu—“
“no.” he cuts sharply. you suck your lips in to refrain from laughing. “cum again.”
your brows rise. “I can’t.”
sukuna barks out a humorless laugh. “I always make you cum more than once—“
“yeah, YOU—not ME. I don’t know how to overstimulate myself,” you reach for some tissues to clean yourself off camera. but sukuna groans loudly, cock throbbing as he works himself. “just imagine me cumming.”
his jaw locks, head tipping back so you can get a perfect shot of his sharp jaw. the silence stretches for a second before sukuna opens his mouth, refusing to look at his phone, missing the way your lips part, and face burns.
“talk into the phone then.”
your stomach flips with something you don’t want to name, especially when he tilts his head back clearly still working his monster of a cock that’s painfully red. “I’m close. speak.”
the command has you closing your thighs tighter, raising the phone to your lips, inhaling slowly, controlling the butterflies.
another beat passes before you finally begin.
“my fingers are so wet after cumming…” you dramatize a gentle sigh, “my pussy is so empty…I need your big fat cock filling my tight…little…pussy…ryo.”
“fuck,” sukuna’s jaw clenches harder, abs tightening as he aggressively twists his hand up his cock, thumb digging into his slit, much more aggressive than how you’d touch his cock, but he just needs to cum.
“can’t wait to see you, ryomen,” you exhale sweetly, adding a little pitched hum, “want you to use my pussy like it’s your pretty toy,” you blush at your own words, keeping it just a little over a whisper because if it was any louder than you might melt into the seat with embarrassment. but sukuna’s strained, low grunts, is reassuring. “fuck me until I can’t move, kiss me until I can’t breathe…you wanna kiss me right, pretty boy?” your cheeks sting viscously at the pet name that casually rolled off your tongue—
but then, a long deep groan comes from the back of the 6’4 footballer’s throat.
your entire body catches on fire, and a smile quietly tugs at the corners of your lips.
“you wanna kiss me that bad, baby?” you tease lightly, and even though sukuna refuses to reply, his strangled grunts, and sounds of his squelching cock being tugged, is enough reassurance to give you that final sentence that pushes him off the edge. “you also wanna stuff my pretty pussy right: wanna fill me with your thick…heavy cum, don’t you ryo?” you bite your lip the moment you hear the choke on the other end.
you quietly listen, pulling your phone to see that sukuna’s phone is forgotten in his lap. your finger playing at your lip, still smiling, waiting for sukuna to come down from his orgasm.
the man’s jaw is locked. head tipped back against the head rest. chest heaving. and face burning with a light shade of pink.
“you cum?” you break the silence, tone laced with something that twists in sukuna’s gut. the phone shifts, your face unable to stop your smile when you see his flushed face. your fingers still playing with your lips with faux innocence.
“yeah.” his clipped tone isn’t too harsh, but definitely shielding something else as he looks down at the mess. his jaw tenses seeing his cum covering his hand and splattered on the steering wheel. even if the phone is on his face, you can see the way his eyes are looking past it.
“you made a mess?”
he licks his teeth, eyes catching yours. “yeah.”
dang he’s cold. is he embarrassed? a warmth settles in your tummy at the thought. it’s hard to read him, but it’s even harder when it’s through the phone. either way, you shift around your car, putting your panties and pants back on and pulling your shirt down, fixing your bra. on the other end, sukuna is pulling his shirt off, and using it to clean the mess he made. jaw tensing every time your voice rings in his head again.
“who taught you how to talk like that?” he raises his hips pulling his pants back up, tucking his softening cock in.
your brow quirks lightly, “nobody lol,” you look back at your phone. “I was just going with the flow,” you smirk, head tilting just a bit that the man freezes, stomach flipping at the pretty sight on his phone and he instinctively just….*screenshot* “was I good?”
he makes a grumbling noise, then, “made me cum.”
“so, good?”
he rolls his eyes, “sure.” he ignores your smile as he finishes cleaning his mess. the buzzing of your phone interrupting. “you have to go?”
you hum, “yeah, gotta pick up shoko.” you text her that you’re on your way. sukuna looks back at his phone as he starts his car up, you do the same. “I’ll talk to you later, then.”
and the second sukuna gives an affirmative hum, you hang up.
as the days pass. neither one of you found your stress levels steady. instead, you were tested again and again, more rejection emails coming in for writing and producing programs you applied too for the summer. and as was sukuna with his brother’s attitude, especially with this weird phase that’s caught his attention with yuuji.
“I thought you were seeing megumi tomorrow?” sukuna glances up from his spot behind the bar, stopping mid-wipe down to see yuuji slinging his backpack on.
“we’re going to the beach today to see them set up before the festival tomorrow,” yuuji mutters, pushing his overgrown hair off his forehead in quiet annoyance.
sukuna’s brows pinch tight, “thought we were gonna do that?”
yuuji shrugs already walking to the back of the bar, large open windows lining the back that overlooks the beach. megumi and nobara wait outside, chatting. “s’fine,” yuuji stops by the door, “choso doesn’t talk to you, and you’re always busy—so whatever.”
sukuna tenses, grip curling around the dirty rag as his little brother turns and leaves. what the fuck?? since when has yuuji been cut and dry with him!?
just as sukuna stresses about his younger siblings, you’re wondering how much longer you have to hold yourself back until you tear your eyes out. another rejection email, that could’ve been the reason why your sudden stress skyrockets and then it immediately crashes after higuruma finally texts you after not hearing anything from him since you first got his number.
[12:34PM] hiromi higuruma: hey this is hiromi
[12:34PM] hiromi higuruma: sorry it’s been awhile but my uncle finally got back to me, he’s free thursday or friday around the afternoon to chat
[12:35PM] hiromi higuruma: lmk which day works so he can put it in his calendar before he gets booked
your lips part, standing outside a patient room staring at your phone. shit. your heart pounds rapidly against your ribs. you work until five everyday. your jaw tenses…just ask if he can do anything after—he can’t. unlike you, people can’t just move things around for you. your fingers quickly tap your screen.
[12:40PM] you: hii
[12:40PM] you: yea friday works for me, would this be a zoom call or phone call?
you see the bubbles appear, then disappear. you shift your weight, stomach churning.
[12:42PM] hiromi higuruma: shit
your stomach drops.
[12:42PM] hiromi higuruma: I forgot—you’re not based in the city?
[12:42PM] you: no, I’m back home for the summer
[12:43PM] you: would it be a problem doing it on zoom?
your back leans against the wall, stomach aching as you wait for his response. seriously, can one thing not work out in your favor?
[12:44PM] hiromi hirguruma: I’ll talk to him, but I think it’s better to wait until you’re back in the city and do it in person
[12:44PM] hiromi higuruma: only saying this bc he forgets everyone he talks too on zoom but he’ll be much more helpful if he meets you face to face, plus you’re a good conversationalist (js from my perspective) so you’d leave a good impression
a beat passes.
[12:45PM] hiromi higuruma: your call tho, i can still talk to him if u want
[12:45PM] hiromi higuruma: he's here all summer, so whenever you're back js Imk and I can set up a meeting
fuck!! your jaw aches, clenching down hard enough to break your teeth. hot tears sting behind your eyes, threatening to spill. you inhale sharply. grinding down harder on your teeth as you squeeze your phone.
what’s the fucking point in meeting with him now if he’ll just forget about you?
[12:47PM] you: oh okay, yeah I think it’s better in person then
[12:47PM] you: I’ll be in the city in august, is that okay?
your heart twists unbelievably tight, nails digging into your palm.
[12:48PM] hiromi higuruma: yeah for sure! and dw I’ll set a meeting up with u and him
almost like he can sense your disappointment through your hesitant texts. he sends another message.
[12:49PM] hiromi higuruma: how’s your summer?
wrong question…
[12:49PM] you: 😀 so good!
the bubbles appear then disappear, then:
[12:50PM] hiromi higuruma: that’s a sarcastic emoji right?
you can’t control the quiet chuckle that slips out.
[12:50PM] you: loll yeah
[12:50PM] you: its fine…working here…with my dad…yayy
higuruma seems to understand your tone as he responds.
[12:51PM] hiromi higuruma: u losing ur mind?
[12:51PM] you: nope
[12:51PM] you: y would u say that (I wanna kms)
[12:51PM] hiromi higuruma: (rip) just a hunch, guess I was wrong
a smile threatens your face.
[12:52PM] hiromi higuruma: don’t stress tho, my uncle has some rlly good connects so he’ll help u out
you bite your cheek, pushing down the anxious twists that’s been eating at you for months. you’re still waiting on another possible opportunity for the second half of summer, but now you’re scared if that falls through, all you’ll have is nanami’s friend’s uncle as a connection..
[12:52PM] you: thanks🥹🙏
[12:53PM] hiromi higuruma: how long is ur program?
[12:53PM] you: till the last week of july so js two-ish more weeksss
[12:54PM] hiromi higuruma: homestretch
[12:54PM] hiromi higuruma: u need a vacation after
[12:54PM] you: TRUSTT
[12:54PM] you: it is in the works🫡 my friends r planning it
[12:55PM] hiromi higuruma: where r u guys going?
you pause, lips parting.
[12:56PM] you: oh….i forgot
[12:56PM] hiromi higuruma: fr?
[12:56PM] you: no frrr shoko just told me to block off the dates but i actually forgot where we’re going bc they were planning it for awhile and i was too busy to pay attention
you cringe, trying to remember where shoko said satoru’s infamous mediterranean summer house is. either way higuruma responds with a cool message, unbothered by your lack of remembrance.
[12:57] hiromi higuruma: well it’s clear u need that vacation then
[12:57PM] you: 😪✊
you don’t realize you’ve basically been standing on your phone for awhile until a resident passes by, eyes flicking down.
“put the phone away before I tell your dad,” he mutters, and though the “joke” has been tossed around multiple times by the residents who know exactly what your relationship is with the chief of surgery, it doesn’t make it any funnier when you heard it the first time or the hundredth time —
your jaw tenses, glancing at your phone to see higuruma’s text.
[12:58PM] hiromi higuruma: make sure to stop in the city after tho and text me ahead of time
[12:58PM] you: i willlll
you shut your phone off, exhaling sharply as your head tips back. at this point…the only thing you’re looking forward to now is this trip. considering the second half of your summer is delayed after pushing this meeting back. and from the looks of it…you highly doubt you’re getting accepted into those writing programs.
“great,” you mutter to yourself.
your feet finally drag you away from the wall, and down the hall. unfortunately the pressure on your chest doesn’t leave, instead your mind quietly moves in circles as you continue the day’s work. unable to remove yourself completely from the stress of your future.
you smile at patients when they greet you. you laugh when shoko mutters something inappropriate under her breath. you still finish your notes, answer questions, make coffee runs, and remember to ask people how their weekends were. nothing is wrong enough for anyone to pull you aside and ask if you’re okay because you’re not falling apart. you’re just…tired. there’s a heaviness that sits beneath your ribs and makes everything feel harder than it should.
even when you check your phone during lunch. your conversation with higuruma sitting near the top of your messages. another month of waiting. another month of this feeling. you lock your phone just as someone calls your name, answering immediately.
it all keeps moving, dragging you along. the routine sucking you in. driving home as shoko talks from the passenger seat about the residents. about a movie she wants to watch. about a patient that yelled at her. about her not fully confident about her mcat studying methods. you nod and laugh, chiming in.
that’s how it goes in the mornings. driving at six am, music playing softly through the speakers. your eyes randomly burning behind your sunglasses, making you blink, unable to stop the tears from gathering for no apparent reason other than you can shake this heaviness on your chest. but it’s easy to wipe beneath your eyes during the red light. shoko doesn’t notice.
even at home, your sister asks how your day is, if you ate, how dad is, and you answer shortly without much thought. jennie watches you for a moment longer. her eyes lingering, opening her mouth like she’s going to say something before deciding against it. especially when you quietly play with yazzy now. playing with her barbie’s clothes in silence, clearly not fully present, but still able to pull a smile for your niece.
“fix her hair now!” yazzy shoves another barbie in your hand, the gum stuck to the ends making you scowl.
“why is there candy all over them?” you lightly scold, making yazzy cover her face with a doll, bashful and guilty.
“it was an accident!” she giggles, making you tsk lightly, giving her a faux disappointed look which earns you another loud giggle from her.
jennie quietly watches from the living room, eyes softening. she’s been gone for some time, but her concerns are present, so when shoko walks into the kitchen, her attention shifts momentarily.
“question,” jennie glances at the brunette. shoko hums, looking over her shoulder from the fridge. “how upset is she? because she’s working with our dad?”
shoko glances at you in the living room, the tv playing masking the conversation in the kitchen. “she hates it.”
jennie hums, looking down at her nails. “she said that?”
shoko nods, “she takes it on the chin though, but yeah…she hates it. she usually complains then feels guilty for complaining.”
that seems to twist something inside jennie, her jaw clenching. “yeah…she’s an idiot.” she mutters, hand rubbing her face. “there’s only so much you can tell her and she still won’t listen.” jennie stands straight. “it’s her life.”
shoko doesn’t respond. instead watching as jennie calls her daughter to head back to the hotel, and once they leave the house quiets, and you’re left alone with yourself.
you brush your teeth while staring into the bathroom mirror, foam gathering at the corners of your mouth as your reflection stares back. the faucet runs as you tilt your head. you look the same…same face, eyes, person — there’s no visible proof that anything is changing beneath your skin. but…you wonder if everyone else feels this way. is everyone secretly mourning versions of themselves they haven’t even become yet. are they walking around pretending everything is okay too? do they also hate where the direction of their lives are heading? can they even see what path they’ve taken—
you spit into the sink, washing your face.
once you crawl into bed, your room finally settles, feeling the darkness press close. and once again, your chest tightens. you think about the mcats. about the future. about all the people your age collecting internships and recommendations and certainty. you think about your father’s anxieties of your future. your mother’s concern. jennie’s harsh words—
you turn onto your side…then your back…then your other side. then…your eyes sting.
the tears build on their own, as they always do. your throat drying as you feel the warm liquid slide onto the pillow. you’re not sobbing. you don’t even know what you’re crying over. nothings happened. but eventually, sleep takes you.
“are you excited for college?” “what are you majoring in?” “you’re going to be a doctor, right?” “isn’t your dad a really good surgeon? my dad wants me to go into med school, but i don’t think i have the patience.”
the high school girls are packed into the locker room before gym, voices bouncing off metal lockers and tiled floors. someone’s trying to braid their ponytail in the mirror. another girl is complaining about wanting to get out of this gym period.
“wait, did they release decisions yet?”
“can your dad help me out when i’m looking for an internship?”
“yeah, you always work for your dad, so it’s not fair.”
“i’m jealous.”
your seventeen year old brain can only laugh, “it’s not like that,” you say automatically. but your friends only seem to double down. marking all your “wins” on one person who isn’t you.
“must be nice having your whole life figured out.”
the pressure in your chest tightens. you blink. you’ve heard these conversations a hundred times, so you should be used to them by now. but something tight twists in your chest. your fingers fumble with the combination lock on your gym locker. the metal slipping beneath your hands.
“you okay?”
“yeah,” your voice comes out too fast. you try again. however, it becomes harder to breathe, your vision blurring around the edges.
“shit!” your friend moves back just as you hit the lockers, falling to your knees as you grab your chest. is this a heart attack? people have heart attacks. can a high schooler have one? your dad would know—
“i can’t breathe.” the words tear out of your throat. your heart pounds harder, your fingers feel tingly and your head lightheaded.
“i can’t breathe.” you try again. nothing is coming out. air won’t come in. your hands shake violently, chest twisting.
“someone get the nurse!”
“she’s crying—”
you don’t feel the tears spill down your face before you even realize you’re crying. your chest hurts, your head spins, and the girls crowd around you.
—
the week leading up to the trip moved strangely, it was slow. the days blurred together as each individual hour stretched.
sukuna picked up more shifts at the bar, the smell of beer and musk clinging to his clothes long after he got home. when he wasn’t working, he was on the field by the beach, shirt sticking to his back beneath the summer sun as he played against whoever was willing to challenge him. usually it was gojo and geto. sometimes yuuji joined him, always laughing, but sukuna could feel the subtle shift. the kid lingered less…asked fewer questions, and as close as he is with gramps, even he wasn’t telling wasuke the full answer. and that was starting to make sukuna a little on edge.
then there was choso. it was inevitable after their argument. choso went out of his way to avoid his older brother and buried himself in rehearsals for the upcoming semifinals, spending more nights at ino’s, then with yuuji or gramps.
meanwhile, you’ve settled deeper into a routine. the hospital shifts, and early mornings that made you want to claw your eyes out. the drives with shoko that always eased you a bit. but then there was the wedding that jennie came for. and every aunt and family friend had something to ask. was there anyone special? were you talking to someone? how is it going into your senior year of undergrad? had you started studying for the mcat? have you taken the mcat yet?
your mother brushed them off, while your sister laughed because dating felt like the last thing on your mind. you smiled through it all, even as your stomach twisted tighter with every question you couldn’t answer honestly.
and then there was your father. he’d become quieter after the incident in the staircase, polite but distant in a way that unsettled you more. is he disappointed you aren’t taking the mcat yet? did one of the residents say something about your performance? you don’t ask. you just keep the questions with you, swirling in your mind whenever you see him.
none of the stress eases. not even when you quietly see sukuna in gojo’s ig stories. not even when yazzy tries to teach you and shoko a new dance move she’s learning. not even when your sister finally heads to the airport. none of it seemed to scratch that itch that kept your mind loud and irritating.
“did you get any sleep?” shoko pulls her shirt off, slipping into her scrubs. you stifle a yawn, shaking your head as you pull your scrub pants up. shoko yawns along with you, but exhales loudly afterwards. shaking her hands as she gives you smile. “last day though!”
your lips part, eyes widening, “oh snap.” and maybe that was what you needed because you’re suddenly smiling with shoko, laughing as you look at your phone. “last day!”
shoko hums, smiling wider as you both start dancing. and that definitely could be considered the longest, and best day of your week. and before you can blink, you’ve packed your suitcases and kissed your mom goodbye as she drops you and shoko off at the airport.
and with full unbridled honesty, you knew the best part of this trip was the excuse of being away from everything and everyone, and that’s what you’ve convinced yourself is what you need.
even after hours trapped in a middle seat, struggling to fall asleep, awkwardly folding yourself away from the men occupying both armrests beside you, you endure it. by the time the plane lands, your eyes burn with exhaustion and dark circles sit beneath them. the warm air greets you outside carrying the scent of salt and sunscreen.
you and shoko collect your luggage in a daze, exchanging tired glances until your attention catches on a sharply dressed man near the exit, holding a sign with both your names.
and that’s when your oasis begins.
the drive stretches along the coastline, blue water glittering beneath the afternoon sun. the mediterranean houses blur past the windows. shoko rests her cheek against her fist while you stare outside, feeling something inside your chest tighten again. what’re you even taking a vacation for?
you turn the corner into the neighborhood and your jaw drops. a villa sits at the end of the hillside like something straight out of a movie, and beyond the property is the ocean stretching endlessly, waves crashing.
“…you’re kidding,” you breathe.
shoko lets out a low whistle, stepping out of the car, “i forgot how disgustingly rich he is.”
the front doors slide open before either of you can fully process the sight, grabbing your suitcases.
“well, well, well!”
of course, the first thing you see is satoru gojo. he stands at the entrance wearing nothing but black swim shorts and a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his white hair, arms spread wide like he’s welcoming royalty into his kingdom. his skin is slightly tanned, abs glistening, and veins crawling up his forearms.
“took you guys long enough,” he announces obnoxiously. “i’ve been suffering all alone.”
“you’ve been posting pool pictures for three days with everyone,” shoko deadpans.
“but we’re still missing people,” gojo rebuts.
shoko laughs despite herself, stepping forward to wrap him in a quick hug. gojo squeezes her dramatically before turning his full attention toward you, who’s still dragging your suitcase across the polished floors, gaze darting between the towering ceilings, the sweeping staircase, and the ocean visible through the open living room.
“…what the hell,” you murmur. “this is insane.”
gojo’s grin somehow widens, “i know.”
you finally look at him properly, “thanks for letting me join,” you say, sincerity slipping into your voice before you can stop it. “seriously.”
for a brief moment, he looks genuinely touched, then— “well, it’s the least i can do,” he says, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “i’ll just need significantly more praise from you and sho for being such a generous, handsome host—”
“sure,” you cut him off easily, making him pout. but you finally step closer, wrapping your arms around him in a greeting hug anyway. “thank you, satoru.”
the complaint dies in his throat. “you’re welcome,” he says quickly but sounding almost suspicious of your sincerity before recovering instantly. “see? this is why you’re my favorite guest.”
“sure,” you sarcastically hum. “I’m just guessing you say that to everyone.”
“i do not.”
“you literally called utahime your favorite yesterday on facetime,” shoko points out.
“that was an obvious lie,” gojo shrugs.
“you definitely told geto he was your favorite,” shoko adds quickly.
gojo points, “he’s my favorite best friend.”
you glance between them, exhausted laughter bubbling out of you despite the lingering ache behind your eyes. sunlight pouring through the windows.
your suitcase stands forgotten by the doorway. somewhere outside, waves crash against the shore. and as gojo continues arguing with shoko about favoritism while leading you deeper into the villa. more people start coming into view.
“ahhh!! finally!!” a familiar voice booms, suddenly seeing a blur before you’re being engulfed in a hug by utahime. “it’s been hell with just these guys!”
gojo snorts, rolling his eyes, “why don’t you go ogle yuno, you perv—“
the harsh slap to his bare arm shuts him up, utahime glaring at him as she looks over her shoulder. luckily, yuno was still chatting loudly with nanami and some other guy you weren’t familiar with.
geto takes the attention as he steps in from the front door, sunglasses on and hair tied in bun. a smile immediately comes to his face when he spots more people. “it’s finally starting to feel like a vacation.”
you and shoko are taken upstairs. your suitcases bump softly against the polished tile floors as gojo launches into an overly detailed tour that neither of you retain, and something shoko’s already heard before.
but what you do manage to take in is how the villa becomes even more breathtaking the more you see of it. the arched doorways connecting the rooms, the patterned tiles lining the hallways, and carved wooden accents softening the stone walls. the villa held about eight bedrooms, and you and shoko barely process the number before finding yourselves in your room—or rather, your suite.
utahime’s presence is immediately obvious. her clothes are draped over the armchair near the balcony doors, makeup bag open across one of the dressers, bikinis and dresses laying on two of the beds, and several pairs of shoes already claimed near the closet.
“she really made herself at home,” shoko mutters.
you hum softly, too distracted by the room itself. two queen-sized beds sit beneath the exposed wooden beams, white linen curtains swaying every time the wind passes through the open balcony doors. the adjoining layout gives the three of you more than enough space, and the balcony utahime had apparently secured for the girls stretches across the back of the villa.
you wander to the open balcony before you can stop yourself, curious as to what the view is. warm air brushes against your dampened skin from the journey, but you’re immediately welcomed by the scent of salt and blooming flowers. below, you see the large pool, and then past the trees that circle the property, are terracotta rooftops of other villas, then the coastline in the distance. you can see the ocean glittering invitingly.
eventually, you peel yourself away making your way to the shower, washing away the hours of sticky travel air. the warm water loosens the knots in your shoulders, the steam clouding the mirror. by the time you emerge in an oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts, toweling your hair dry, your body feels impossibly heavy.
the room is empty. you can hear shoko and the rest of the group outside from the open balcony. but all you can manage to do is walk across the tiled floor, barely managing to crawl onto the bed to turn of your phone alarm. your eyes struggling to stay open as you uncap your bottled water and swallow your scheduled pill. and once it goes down your throat, you toss the birth control pills back in your bag, and hit the warm sheets. you sink into the mattress with a relieved sigh.
the balcony doors remain open. the breeze filtering through the curtains. setting sun painting soft patterns across the tiled floor. and somewhere between one blink and the next, lulled by the sound of the ocean just beyond the villa walls, the exhaustion from everything finally catches up to you.
your eyes eventually drift shut.
unaware of what’s taking you so long, shoko and utahime go upstairs after an hour, freezing once they see you passed out.
“what the—“ utahime frowns. “we’re gonna go out to eat, wake up—“
utahime’s words die feeling shoko tug her out of the room.
“just let her sleep,” shoko cuts. “she’s been stressed for weeks, and i feel bad.” shoko’s voice is much softer, eyes down as utahime glances at her expression, then at the closed door.
“did something happen?” utahime’s brows are pinched.
shoko steps away from the door, shrugging, “I dunno,” a beat passes. “her sister just told me she doesn’t sleep well when she’s stressed, so just to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t drink too much if she’s still, like,” shoko tries to find the right words. “funky, I guess. so like…this is a good chance for her to catch up on her sleep and relax a bit.”
utahime nods, immediately. “for sure. I’ll keep an eye on her too then— and we can help her destress in these next two weeks!—“ utahime suddenly slaps a hand over her mouth after she basically shouted.
shoko chuckles, but hums along.
the two had the right idea leaving you to sleep. you knocked out for the rest of the day, and by the time you wake up, the sun is only a few minutes from rising. you were slightly confused, having slept for so long. groggy, you sit up and blink around the unfamiliar room. the pale morning light filters through the open balcony doors, the curtains shifting softly with the breeze. and once you see the two other people sleeping in the room, you realize where you are.
utahime is asleep beside you, laying on her side hugging her pillow. shoko is sprawled across the other queen bed like a starfish, blanket tangled around her legs.
and you simply sit there, still waking up, until your stomach starts growling. you rub your eye, reaching for your phone, happy someone had put it in the charger.
6:02 a.m.
“…damn” you mutter to yourself, you hadn’t eaten since the shitty airplane food. careful not to wake either of them, you slide out of bed and slip out of the room.
the villa is quiet in that way when everyone’s still asleep. it’s peaceful and calming. you notice a few abandoned glasses still sitting on the kitchen island from the night before. some half-finished bags of chips on the counter and couches. through the open doors, the warm morning air drifts inside carrying the scent of the ocean.
gojo’s pretty rich to not care that all the back doors are wide open, you think.
you rummage through the mediterranean style kitchen until you find bread, cold cuts, cheese, and enough ingredients to throw together a decent sandwich. then with a plate in hand, phone tucked beneath your arm, you wander outside. the backyard overlooking the hillside below, terracotta rooftops spilling toward the ocean in the distance. the pool reflects the pale pinks and oranges beginning to stretch across the sky. and you settle onto one of the lounge chairs by the pool. your legs curl beneath you as you scroll mindlessly through your phone between bites of your sandwich.
it’s nice and quiet, and your shoulders sink further into the chair, slowly beginning to force yourself into a vacation mindset. and because of that, you don’t hear the front door open, or the footsteps crossing the brown tiled floors.
what you suddenly hear, mid-scroll, is a heavy unexpectedly loud thud of a duffle bag hitting the ground startling the living hell out of you. your heart hitting your ribs.
“…what the fuck?!”
you yelp entire body jerking, nearly tumbling off the chair as your heart launches straight into your throat. you’re still holding your sandwich, immediately whipping around to see the perpetrator.
and standing in the middle of the living room. black soccer shorts hanging low on his hips, a loose black t-shirt stretching across his shoulders. a cap resting in one hand, headphones around his neck. suitcase standing beside him, and a worn-in duffle bag abandoned at his feet….is sukuna.
he looks like he just got off a flight, slightly sweaty, slightly irritated, slightly exhausted, and unbelievably attractive. his scowl is already in place from being startled by the scream, but then he pauses once he sees you.
his eyes drag over your messy sleep-tangled hair, oversized shirt, bare legs tucked awkwardly beneath you on the lounge chair, and the bite of your sandwich still sitting in your mouth as you slowly chew. the edge of his expression shifts, not quite a smile, but something softer than his scowl.
“…the fuck are you screaming for?” he asks.
you stare at him, chewing the rest of your sandwich that flew out when your screamed. he stares back.
“…you look a mess,” you finally say through your bite.
his gaze flickers over you once more. “i think you’re looking in a mirror,” he replies flatly.
and just like that, sitting barefoot beside the pool at six in the morning with food in your mouth and your heart still hammering against your ribs, you can’t explain the way your shoulders ease a bit.
“asshole,” you reply with no bite. sukuna hums, sliding his backpack off and dropping his cap, headphones, and phone on top of his duffle before walking towards you. you swallow the bite you’d been chewing just for sukuna to kneel on the ground beside you, inspecting your sandwich.
“what is that?”
you glance at it, then down at him, your cheeks warming in seconds. he’s so close. “turkey, cheese, olives—“
“olives?” his large hand wraps around your hand, holding the sandwich.
you raise a brow, “yeah, it’s good—wha!” your eyes blow wide when he suddenly takes an obnoxiously large bite out of your sandwich. “what the hell!” you shove his shoulder back, making him loose his balance and catch himself on his annoyingly big arm, but it was too late. he’s chewing your sandwich, as you frown. “you didn’t even ask.”
“y’ didn’t look like you’d give me a bite if I asked,” sukuna speaks with his mouth full.
you scowl, “obviously, it’s mine. you can make your own, tch.”
sukuna continues chewing, still sitting back on his arm, eyes heavy as he stares up at you from your spot on the lounge chair.
you frown right back at him. even half-awake, with travel exhaustion weighing down your limbs, your expression pinches in annoyance. your brows pull together, nose wrinkling slightly, and your grip tightens around your sandwich.
his gaze lingers, “your eyes are bloodshot,” he finally says. you blink at him. “did y’ get any sleep?”
you take another pointed bite before answering, glaring at him over the edge of your sandwich, “yeah, actually. i slept the second i got here and missed dinner,” you narrow your eyes. “which means the first thing i’ve eaten since yesterday is the sandwich you freaking stole.”
sukuna scoffs, “dramatic.”
“you took half of it!” you screech lowly.
“that’s not half.”
“you have no idea what half means.”
his eyes drift downward before returning to your face. you’re sitting cross-legged on the lounge chair, turning slightly away from him now as you continue eating, subtly trying to finish it before he tries to take another bite. which he probably would do, just seeing the way he’s eyeing it.
sukuna feels a quiet tug beneath his ribs. the morning sun finally stretches over the horizon, painting gold across the pool water and catching against your soft skin. you’re still grumbling under your breath as you chew.
“you’re unbelievable,” you mutter.
he pushes himself up a little straighter beside your chair, his calloused palm rests on your bare thigh. “one more bite?” he asks.
you let out a humorless laugh, “yeah, as if.”
he lifts a brow, squeezing your thigh, “c’mon I’m starving. the plane’s breakfast was ass.”
“make your own then,” you say through another mouthful, keeping your free hand against his shoulder to keep him at arm’s length. he glances down at it, then back up at you.
annoyance flickering across his face. “seriously?”
you glance between his eyes, swallowing and taking another bite, “yeah.”
“one more bite.”
“there’s barely any left though,” you whine, keeping his shoulder back as he tries to get closer. but he clicks his tongue before wrapping his hand loosely around your wrist, pulling your palm away from his shoulder with little effort.
“selfish,” he mutters.
you nearly choke. “selfish?” you repeat, staring at him in disbelief. “you’re tryna steal my breakfast.”
“whatever,” he scowls, still holding your wrist. “I’m hungry.”
“ryomen.”
“what?”
“make your own sandwich.”
he stares at you. you stare back. then, without warning, he reaches for your wrist that holds your sandwich, making you gasp loudly, using your legs now to keep your bodies apart. “don’t—“
your free hand wiggles in his grip while he leans over, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as your horrified complaints echo through the otherwise peaceful sunrise. your body struggles as he takes control, easily manuring himself onto the lounge chair, your knee keeping him away, as the other squirms to move between your body, but hanging loosely around his torso.
“ryo pleasee,” your whine rings so clearly, he can’t contain the flip in his stomach. he stops.
your chest is rising and falling from the struggle, anxiously glancing at him, brows pinched expecting him to pull your wrist to his mouth, but he remains still. staring down at you. then at your lips. then back at your eyes.
and suddenly, your legs are loosening, heart beating against your ribs, and letting sukuna fit himself comfortably between your legs. his hand holding your free hand, carefully brushes beneath your jaw before settling against the side of your neck. it’s warm and familiar. the morning breeze lifts strands of your hair across your face, and for a second, neither of you move.
waves crash in the distance. birds calling out in the pale sky. sunlight spilling over the terrace, painting soft lines across the sharp planes of sukuna’s face. his eyes don’t leave yours, and you can feel his breath against your lips, warming a deep spot in your tummy.
“you good?” you whisper eventually, voice smaller than you intend.
his gaze flickers down again. your mouth, then back to your eyes. then groggy, and voice much deeper then before, he mutters… “been a minute.”
your stomach flips. wetting your lips unconsciously, and sukuna’s eyes sharpen at the movement, barely blinking before you feel his firm lips against yours.
the breath leaves his lungs in a quiet rush. there’s a desperation hidden beneath the steadiness he tries so hard to maintain. but his hand tightens ever so slightly where it rests against you.
your lips move in sync like muscle memory. it’s familiar and instinctive. your fingers drift upward, threading through the soft strands at the nape of his neck before settling against his scalp. he releases a gentle exhale against your mouth at the contact, making your pulse stumble. sukuna leans closer without realizing it, his broad shoulders block out the morning sun as he deepens the kiss. your lips part on instinct, welcoming his tongue.
you can’t explain the urge that grows inside you the longer you kiss. the make out feels unbelievably calming, his grip tight around the lounge chair above your head, his knees digging into the seat, and his tongue swallowing your moans that have his pulse stuttering. your nails scratch at his scalp, threading through the pink locks digging gently.
“you taste like my sandwich,” you murmur with a clipped tone, tongue kissing his as he hums.
“yeah, fuck if I care,” he so easily brushes off the attitude to kiss you again. there were only two bites of your sandwich left, but you still held on to it, even as sukuna skillfully traced your bottom lip with his tongue. his hips lowering just to press his semi-bulge right against your clothed cunt, and that was enough to note the way your breath catches.
he can’t put into words how much his body needed you. just seeing you when he first walked in after his shit flight had his chest twisting, and now, kissing you…he feels every second relieving the weight on his shoulders.
your nails scratch at his scalp, tugging gently just to have him pull away, his eyes watching the way you catch your breath. lips all pretty and wet from him. eyes slightly dazed as you stare up at him, face lit softly with a healthy glow that has him leaning down again. he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your bottom lip, caressing your tongue as it meets again.
“you didn’t send me any more pics,” he mutters.
your cheeks flush, nails caressing his nape. “you didn’t ask for more.”
“it should be unspoken.”
you snort, leaning closer when he pulls away, “it’s not now.”
sukuna grumbles, jaw ticking for a moment until your lips find each other again, your legs wrap around his torso, letting him put his weight on top of you, unbothered by the plane’s air that still clings to him. “give me a bite of the sandwich,” he mutters, trailing his lips down to your neck. and even if it’s been weeks, he still finds your sweet spot in seconds, nipping at it. your breath catches in your pretty throat, whining shyly when he licks the spot again with his warm tongue.
“no,” you say, managing to take another bite, doing your best to chew it as fast as you can, even with the bread being so thick, sukuna catches your wrist again. your eyes widen, watching him move your hand to his open mouth, taking the last bite.
you groan with a mouth full, eyes harsh as they glare up at him. the two of you chewing all the while his hand finds its way to your waist, slipping under your shirt to caress your bare skin.
“is it too hard for you to make a sandwich?” you speak with your mouth full, swallowing bites but still chewing.
“yeah, it is,” he replies coolly.
your brow twitches in irritation. but you still can’t help the way your gaze lingers. it’s been almost two months, and somehow he looks exactly the same. however, his salmon hair has grown out just enough to brush against the nape of his neck, it’s slightly damp from the warm weather. his shoulders seem broader than you remember, his t-shirt stretching across his frame. his veins stand out beneath his sun-bronzed forearms, hands rough and familiar where they rest against the lounge chair and your bare waist.
even sitting there, lazy and half-awake from travel, there is something unfairly imposing about him. it’s all familiar, but it could be the distance apart that has you pointing out the sharp tattoos again, the intimidating size difference, and the quiet confidence of him, painfully aware of what his body does to you.
your eyes drift over the dark tattoos peeking beneath his sleeves and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. his beefy thighs crowding the edge of the chair when he shifts, solid beneath his worn soccer shorts. he’s inconveniently attractive, stealing your sandwich like a jerk, familiar arrogance seeping with each glance your way, and his typical scowl…but still, your fingers almost ache with the remembered habit of tracing his inked skin beneath your fingertips, wanting to hear the low huff he’d give you in response.
you don’t miss him…but you do miss this pull of wanting someone who always feels just out of reach, but still appears right in front of you when you need him most.
“good-fuckin’-sandwich,” he finally swallows, licking his lips. he leans down with little effort, and high confidence, pressing his lips to yours again. body moving on top of you, rolling his hips down just to hear your little hiccup, your hand suddenly presses against his shoulder, pushing. he barely moves, but he does pause, pulling away enough to keep his face hovering close. “what? you mad I took the last bite?”
you roll your eyes, ready to respond when your stomach suddenly pierces the air with a loud grumble.
the sound has the frat boy freezing, glancing down. your lips part, cheeks flaring, glancing away as sukuna sits up just a little. “you seriously didn’t eat anything?”
“I told you I haven’t eaten,” you tsk, cheeks inflamed from the sound, desperately trying to ignore the caresses of sukuna’s hand under your shirt, thumb brushing your torso, suddenly pushing the material of t-shirt higher revealing more of your torso.
the air grows awkwardly uncomfortable, neither of you saying a word, and him not responding has you growing slightly more aware of the position he has you in. you don’t want to address it, you seriously, strongly, want to ignore how he’d just made himself comfortable with touching you after being apart for weeks. but that sudden thought as you pushing yourself up.
your hand climbs up his chest, curling your fist around his collar. and with little resistance, you tug him towards you.
“I’ll make another sandwich,” you mutter, your pretty chest rising with each breath. “you can keep kissing me…” his eyes flick between yours, they’re heavy with either exhaustion, lust, or both, but then you whisper the precious words he’s been dreaming of hearing this close, with your warmth wrapping around him, and your scent making his head spin… “please, ryo.”
his lips twitch up, arm wrapping around your waist, holding you close from under your shirt. then your heart skips a beat. his head tucks down to your shoulder, burying his face there, pulling you to his chest.
your lips part, cheeks burning hot as he hugs you closer. his fingers dig possessively around your waist, bicep flexing around.
the summer breeze wraps around you. heart beating aggressively against your chest. fingers twitching trapped between your bodies, his hot breath fans against your neck. seagulls fly above you, the sky clear as day. but none of it can be fully processed, not when sukuna is hugging you like it’s been years since you’ve seen each other.
“r—“ you stop yourself when a warm kiss is pressed against your neck. then another. his hand brushes up and down your warm torso, making you always aware of his presence. slowly trailing kisses up your neck, subtly inhaling more of your flowery scent.
his cheeks sting, and he feels the heat crawl up his neck as his bulge grows harder. but he doesn’t stop peppering your burning skin with wet kisses. he pays a certain spot with more attention, sucking just a bit harder, smiling subtly when he hears your cute hiccup-like-moan.
“y’know,” he mutters against your skin, sucking another light hickey on your pretty neck, barely noticeable. he doesn’t wait for you to respond, your fingers twitching at his waist, holding his shirt. “I’ve been thinking’ bout how you got naked in your car,” your cheeks sting as the memory resurfaces quickly. “and how you fingered this pussy ‘cause I asked ya too,” you don’t have to look at him to hear the devilish smile he’s sporting. “then you fucking knocked over the phone when you came.”
your lips part in a quiet gasp, “it was an accident—“
he tsks, “still.” you blush. “I wanted to see it.” his hand brushes higher, unbothered by how he’s pushing your shirt up, revealing your lower back to the warm air. your skin is just so soft under his rough palm, and you fit perfectly against him. “you’ve been teasing me.”
your eyes go wide, “me?!—haah—“
the moan has your face bursting into flames, his teeth sink into your neck. your hand finding its way to his bicep, nails digging in, as he licks the mark he leaves. his lips skim up your neck, warm breath fanning gently until your lips are parting to inhale the same air.
“yeah, you,” his eyes flick over your lips. “with that call, and the one before that, and your photo.” he wets his bottom lip, a sinister smirk exposing his sharp canines. and in that moment you feel like he’d swallow you whole any second. “and now you’re lounged out here waiting for me.”
that’s when a a loud scoff leaves your lips. cheeks aflame. “as if. I didn’t even know when you were coming. it’s a coincidence.”
a disbelieving hum resounds from his throat. “so you were camped out here in these little shorts,” he tugs the hem of your shorts. “and this shirt wearing nothing underneath, for who then?”
you raise a brow, amused by him, forearm casually resting on his shoulder as you look back at him. “would you believe me if I said it was for me?”
he clicks his tongue.
you hum, glancing away for entertainment, free hand coming up to your chin. sukuna sits still, surprisingly patient, almost like you both have all the time in the world. it was unnervingly attractive. but you still decide to tease him, amused by the thought so you say it.
“then it was for satoru.”
and the moment that name leaves your lips, the reaction is far from what you’ were expecting. sukuna’s once calm features shift into a sudden disgusted scowl. the expression catches you so off guard that you suddenly burst out laughing, right in his face.
“fuck outta my face,” he spits.
you laugh even louder, hand coming up to your mouth trying to control yourself. “what? you don’t believe me?”
your push has sukuna rolling his eyes to the back of his skull. “playin’ in my face.”
“pleaseeee,” you cackle, adjusting yourself higher, waving a hand in front of him. “I was—I meant to say it’s for suguru.”
you visibly see the twitch in his eye, and that has you laughing louder hitting his chest as your head falls back. “I’m DEAD, you’re actually killing me!!” your laughing is so loud it irks him how much you’re getting a kick out of his reaction. he also ignores how cute your stupid laugh is after not hearing for so long. “cmon, it’s no biggy, wearing this skimpy little thing for my suguru.”
“your suguru,” sukuna spits back, disgust laced in every word.
you nod, bitting your top lip as you hold in your laughter, even if your eyes are laughing. “it makes sense, since me and him are sharing a room.”
his body suddenly goes dead still. “you’re fucking with me.”
his tone has you laughing louder, unaware how much that bothered the footballer. “you don’t believe me?”
sukuna rolls his eyes, loosening his jaw as he exhales through his nose. “daamn, relax ryo.” you coo, hand coming up to squish his cheeks. “tough month? you can’t take my little jokes anymore?” your faux pout has him scowling immediately, but his cock jumps at the expression.
“ragebait,” he mutters. you softly snort, smile lighting up your face, then your pretty head tilts for him. so fucking pretty.
“aww, that wasn’t my intention,” you coo.
the lie has sukuna scoffing, eyes flickering between your insincere doe eyes, and it tickles an itch deep in his core. “I was just playing with you,” you playfully squish his cheeks again, watching the way his lips purse together. he’s so cute.
his hands rest on your waist, staring straight into your eyes, and he unknowingly allows you to mess with him. enough that a string tugs at his chest.
“you mad?” your lips part slightly when he doesn’t respond, your eyes still holding a playful spark in them.
“yeah.”
it was a detectable lie that has your pretty lips pulling into a smile you can’t control. “yeah?” you’ve seriously grown confident in your time apart, and it’s unbelievably attractive. “but I thought it was pretty funny. you can’t be mad about that, can you?”
your thumb brushes the morning shadow on his chin, the stubble beyond attractive. but sukuna is too busy clicking his tongue at you to notice the way you’re checking him out whilst pushing his buttons. “I can. do you see me laughing with ya?”
you purse your lips, smile spilling out wide. you shake your head, then you push yourself up. your pretty legs are loose around his hips, your fingers gently curling under his chin, wetting your bottom lip with a soft hum.
“I don’t,” your voice is low, sweet. his jaw tenses slightly, waiting for you to act, and surprisingly you catch it. and you start smiling again. “you’re so patient, ryo.”
his breath catches, covering it with a loud, offended scoff. “maybe finish your sentences,” he snaps. “y’ keep fucking trailing off.”
you smile, leaning close to his face. breath warm against his lips. “I just answered you though,” you trail off again, purposefully. your lips hover over his, slowing your breath, lashes fluttering like a subtle seductress. and it works. he leans closer, wanting your warmth to encompass him even more. his cheeks a stained dark pink as you exhale softly. “you just like listening to me…don’t you?”
your smile is unbelievably beautiful, but his remains still, glaring at you through his dark lashes. his thick brow quirks. “i don’t remember ya being this cocky,” he mutters and there isn’t much heat behind the insult.
your smile only widens, “I didn’t realize how easy you make it,” you coo softly.
his brow twitches, “don’t flatter yourself.”
“mm.” your fingers drift along the collar of his shirt, eyeing the tattoos that peak, then meeting his crimson gaze again. “too late.”
the morning breeze curls around the two of you, the scent of salt and sunscreen drifts through the quiet villa. the pool glitters behind him and still, neither of you moves away.
his eyes drag over your expression, lingering on the curve of your smile and the amusement brightening your face. he’d spent weeks listening to your voice through a phone speaker, catching glimpses of you through photos and stories, and now that you’re here, he finds himself unable to take his hands off you.
you tilt your head. “what?” you ask, trying and failing to sound innocent.
“you’re annoying,” he cuts.
“but…” you lean closer, your lips brushing his, and he barely reacts. “you haven’t asked me to stop.”
something shifts behind his eyes. the confidence in your expression flickers for half a second, replaced by something softer, and something he sure as shit brushes away. but the teasing quiets just enough for his stomach to twist.
“tell me ryo,” you murmur quietly, voice just above a whisper. the sweetness drips into his ear like honey. his cock straining in his shorts, unable to control his body’s reaction to you. “you like being teased…right?”
his mouth twitches. “you fucking with me again?”
you slowly shake your head, staring into his eyes, twirling his hair around your finger. “you can tell me,” you tug at his hair lightly. “I don’t judge.”
he’s leaking for sure. the clear outline of his cock would be embarrassing if he wasn’t packing. and even with how obviously turned on he is, how flushed his ears are, and how blown his pupils have gotten. he still manages to hold his composure, and bite back a shit eating grin.
“cute,” his arm tightens around your waist, the other dragging up your thigh, pushing up your shorts. his bulge is pressing directly onto your shorts, and his sharp canines almost make him look animalistic. “I don’t think you realize what you’re doing.”
you hum, dragging the sound in faux innocence, lashes batting up at him, almost making him release a pathetic noise. “what am doing? I thought I was creating a safe space for you,” you coo.
“don’t play dumb.”
you shrug, face still close, and fingers still playing with the ends of his hair, the other squeezing his bicep. “I’m not.“
and once your eyes glance over the scowl that flickers across his face, your unable to control your reaction. you laugh softly against the small space separating you, and the sound seems to snap whatever fragile thread of restraint he’d been clinging to.
you make a startled sound against him, one that quickly melts into something softer when he kisses you harder than before. his brows knit together, expression caught between irritation and want.
he completely steals the breath from your lungs. all the teasing from the last several minutes dissolves into something far less careful. the laughter lingering on your lips disappears beneath the press of his mouth, your fingers tangling tighter in the ends of his hair as he forces his tongue to meet yours. and the moment your tongues make contact, a guttural groan comes from the back of his throat. the sound is muffled against your lips, but the way you feel the warmth pool between your legs is immediate.
he doesn’t care anymore. his mind has wrapped itself around you, the familiarity of your lips, the warmth of your body, and the soft edges of your aura, it all has him melting. and it doesn’t take long for him to press his fully erect cock right against your shorts. rutting.
a squeak escapes your pretty lips at the first roll of his hips. jaw falling agape at the stimulation. the sunrise paints everything gold around you, warm light spilling across the pool deck while the rest of the villa remains asleep. and as exhausted as sukuna is from his flight, he physically can’t stop his body from rutting into you like a dog in heat.
his tongue is thick and hot, slowly stroking your lips passionately until you’re meeting the wet muscle with your own. your whine is muffled, arms latched around his shoulders, as he hooks your leg over his arm, humping your clothed pussy.
“we should fuck,” he mutters between kisses, grinding even harder, stimulating his cock. “yeah?” his hand squeezes the flesh of your thigh, kissing your bottom lip with haste. “everyone’s sleeping, I got a condom in my bag—“
a choked groan slips out of his throat when you tug his hair, his pupils twice their normal size. cheeks flushed a dark red, and his body unable to pull away from you. he doesn’t want to address how quickly you turn him on, or how much he craved your touch after being away from you for so long—no, none of it crosses the front of his mind when you’re under him, hands caressing his nape, lips glossy and swollen from kissing, and dark lashes batting up at him like you know everything. “you haven’t showered.”
he kisses down your neck, grinding slower, reminding you what he’s asking for. “I don’t smell that bad.” he unintentionally presses his face against your nape, inhaling. “fuck, but you smell so fucking good.”
your lips part momentarily, cheeks flushed. you feel him kiss the warm skin of your neck. he trails back to your lips, hand wrapping gently around your neck, tilting your chin up with a thumb, kissing you deeper, if possible.
it was a scene. and it was one that gojo was waking up to. his blue eyes are still heavy with sleep, white hair sticking in every direction, as he wanders down the staircase in nothing but a pair of shorts hanging dangerously low on his hips. one hand disappears beneath the hem of his shirt as he scratches absentmindedly at his chest, the other reaching automatically for the carton of orange juice waiting in the fridge.
the villa is quiet. the open screens let the morning breeze drift through the house, sunlight spilling across the floors and stretched toward the living room, where a duffle bag and suitcase had been abandoned carelessly near the entrance. gojo blinks, his gaze moves from the luggage to the open patio doors, then stops. “…oh.”
outside, beneath the morning blue sky, was a certain someone hidden behind one of the lounge chairs overlooking the pool, and sukuna was right on top of her. the two of you were obviously making out, his head bent toward yours, your hand buried somewhere near the ends of his pink hair, his broad shoulders blocking part of your frame from view, and his lower body was rocking against yours.
gojo stared, lifting the orange juice to his mouth, then lowering it. “…they’re still not dating,” he murmured to absolutely no one.
“what are you doing?” nanami’s voice breaks through the silence making gojo glance over briefly. fresh out of bed himself, nanami is halfway through pulling a shirt over his head, pajama pants slung low against his waist, catching a brief sight of his dark blonde happy trail, as he walks into the kitchen, following gojo’s line of sight. his steps slowed. “oh.”
gojo points toward the patio, “they’re not dating.”
nanami yawns, moving toward the fridge anyway.“i went to bed early,” he said. “did he get here last night?”
gojo shakes his head immediately, finally twisting the cap off the orange juice. “nope. he literally just got here. i got the notification from the security.” nanami pauses, glancing over his shoulder again, then toward the abandoned bags in the living room, then back outside.
“…they’re that comfortable with each other?” the question slips out before he can stop it.
gojo snorts, “or they’re just ridiculously attracted to each other,” he shrugs. “but they’re definitely not dating.”
nanami raises a brow thoughtfully. “did they not have sex with anyone else if they’re jumping each other like that now?” gojo tilts his head in genuine surprise. nanami’s eyes linger on the scene outside.
maybe it’s instinct or it the unmistakable feeling of being watched, because outside, sukuna’s gaze lifts. his sharp crimson eyes slide toward the villa without warning and land directly on the blue and honey-colored pair staring back at him from the kitchen. the silence stretches, until gojo slowly raises his carton of orange juice in greeting.
your brows quirk seeing sukuna’s suddenly pulling away and scowling over your shoulder. that’s when you decide to stick your head out, brows quirking at gojo and nanami both standing in the kitchen.
“didn’t mean to interrupt the streamy sesh,” gojo calls out casually, nanami glancing at him in annoyance. “you guys can continue.”
you snort, pressing a hand to sukuna’s chest, just for the hot head to sit back on his knees, glaring at his friends. “damn, but you kinda made me loose my appetite though,” you say stepping away from sukuna to stand up. his eyes follow you, jaw tightening as gojo cackles loudly from the house.
“whaaaat—but don’t you guys miss each other? I didn’t wanna ruin the reunion,” gojo lightly teases, unknowingly hitting a nerve as sukuna tsks, and you surprisingly raise a brow.
“you’re not ruining anything,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at sukuna who’s still sat on the lounge chair, hand over his bulge. “we were jus’ talking.”
gojo smirks, nodding sarcastically, “yeah, for sure. must’ve been the wind then.”
you sarcastically cringe, shrugging. “ah, must’ve been.” you don’t break a sweat as you walk further into the house passing by the boys as you make your way up the stairs, leaving them behind. and even with your heart beating erratically, and your face sweltering. you keep your composure until you’re out of sight.
as for sukuna…he remains seated, quiet, and unbelievably pissed off. nanami finds it slightly amusing, while gojo is snorting loudly. “that’s how much you wanna get in her pants—I just got the notification that you walked in and you’re already tryna fuck her—jeez.”
sukuna scowls, standing up. the irritation dripping from his being as he slips a hand into his shorts, tucking his erection up. “since when do you fucking cockblock me?” he snaps, walking into the house.
gojo’s hands fly up in defense, “you’re the ones that stopped. I was just drinkin’ my juice here.”
“he was watching,” nanami casually corrects, earning another shrug from gojo. sukuna clicks his tongue, and it prompts nanami to follow up with the only question swimming in his head. “are you guys dat—“
“no.”
the room falls silent.
sukuna picks up his duffle bag. his sharp eyes find the two men, and he utters his next words, with little thought, only wanting to end any further discussion on a subject he has little care to address with outsiders.
“we fuck. and I’m gonna fuck her again. and that’s my deal with her.”
his harsh tone is followed by a low whistle from the white haired man. and though sukuna walks away from them fully believing he put an end to whatever assumptions they insisted on making. because whatever existed between you and him has always been simple, physical, and convenient. except…
later that week, the simplicity shakes just a bit. when your arms lock around his torso, fingers twisting desperately into the back of his soaked shirt, refusing to let go. face pressed against his chest, eyes rimmed raw, breaths breaking apart into uneven pieces as your entire body trembles against him. the rain coming down harshly, drenching the quiet street and soaking through your skin and fabric.
and sukuna can only stare over your head into the empty street. his arms tighten around you without fully realizing what he’s doing it. his veins straining beneath his skin because you won’t stop shaking. your nails digging into him.
“don’t…” your voice is strained, the softness still shining through even in the state you’re in. “don’t push me away yet.”
his jaw clenches.
“please.”
a/n: watch you guys burn me alive after this. no joke, this shit was gonna be longer but I reached the line count limit on tumblr so I had to cut the scene short and add a sneak peak into next chapter.
chp 9 will have more yummy smut and angst. and I don’t wanna spoil, but *wink *wink, reader has been taking those birth control pills for a little over a month now 😛
ಇ.content & warnings: Roomates AU :: still has his blood mark (cause i think its sexy) :: somnophilia (consented) :: p in v :: c-pied :: soft!cho :: sweet!cho :: fwb-esque ::
ಇ.part two.ಇ
The apartment was quiet in that way only the deep hours of night could make it, with the low hum of the fridge in the kitchen, the occasional creak of settling walls, and the faint, distant siren that always seemed to echo through the city streets no matter how late it got.
One a.m. glowed soft blue from your phone screen as you stared at it, thumb hovering uselessly over the lock button. Sleep had slipped away again, leaving you restless and aching in the worst way.
Your sheets were tangled around your legs, damp from the heat building under your skin, and no amount of shifting or pressing your thighs together could ease the slick, throbbing need between them.
Touching yourself had been a half-hearted attempt, fingers circling your clit slow and lazy under the covers, but it only made it worse. The empty feeling inside you, the greedy clench of your walls around nothing, it all screamed for something real, something warm and thick and pulsing... something attached to the sweet, shy boy sleeping just across the hall.
You and Choso had an understanding. Loose, unspoken in the daylight but ironclad once the lights went out. If either of you was in the mood, you could wake the other. No questions, no awkward mornings after unless you both wanted them.
Sometimes he’d crawl into your bed with that flushed face and those dark eyes wide with nervous want, mumbling something about how he couldn’t stop thinking about you.
Other times you’d let him sleep through it, sliding down onto his cock while he dreamed and watching the moment his lashes fluttered open in hazy, blissful confusion. He always came harder that way, hips jerking up like he was chasing the feeling even before his brain caught up.
Tonight, you were too desperate to wait for morning.
You slipped out of bed on quiet feet, wearing nothing but an oversized tee that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs. It was his t-shirt actually, the one he’d left draped over the couch yesterday after doing laundry. It still smelled faintly of his detergent and that warm, clean scent that was just him.
The hallway floor was cool under your bare soles as you padded toward his room, heart already picking up pace, pussy slick enough that you could feel it starting to drip down your inner thigh with every step.
His door was cracked open like always. Choso hated feeling closed in.
Moonlight cut through the blinds in thin silver stripes across his bed. He was sprawled out on his back, one arm flung above his head, the other resting loose on his stomach. His black hair, those signature stringy strands usually tied up in two high ponytails, had come loose in sleep, fanning across the pillow and sticking slightly to his forehead.
The blood mark across the bridge of his nose looked almost soft in the dark, like a secret painted there just for you to see when no one else was watching. He wore an old black t-shirt, rucked up high enough to expose the lean muscle of his abdomen and the faint trail of dark hair disappearing into his boxers.
One leg was kicked out, the other bent, and the thin fabric of his boxers was already tenting slightly, like his body knew you were coming even if his mind was still lost in dreams.
You eased the door shut behind you with a soft click, then crossed the room on silent steps until you stood beside his bed. For a long moment you just looked at him.
Your overly doting roommate, the one who made you breakfast with that shy little smile every weekend, who folded your laundry with careful hands even when you told him he didn’t have to.
The same one who’d blush crimson if you caught him staring too long, but who you’d deliberately leave your lace panties scattered around the apartment for anyway. Hot pink ones, black ones with delicate bows, soft cotton thongs. Whatever you knew would make his cock twitch hardest when he thought you weren’t looking.
You’d come home more than once to find him in his room, door not quite latched, hand wrapped around that thick, leaking length while he pressed your stolen panties to his face or rubbed them along his shaft, hips stuttering and quiet, broken little whimpers slipping out between bitten lips.
God, he was so shy about it. So sweet. And so fucking horny for you it made your stomach flip.
You reached out first, palm sliding slow and gentle over the front of his boxers. Even through the fabric he was warm, already half-hard. His cock twitching under your touch like it was reaching for you.
A soft, sleepy sound escaped him, brows pinching faintly. You rubbed a little firmer, feeling him swell and thicken under your hand, the head of his cock nudging insistently against the waistband as precum started to dampen the material in a small, dark spot.
His hips shifted. Lashes fluttered but didn’t open. You could see the way his stomach tensed, muscles jumping under smooth skin.
Carefully, you hooked your fingers into the elastic and tugged his boxers down just enough to free him. His cock sprang up heavy against his abdomen. Long, thick, flushed a deep rose at the tip where a fat bead of pre was already welling. The veins along the shaft stood out faintly, pulsing with his heartbeat.
You wrapped your hand around the base, stroking once, twice, slow and slick from the pre that smeared over your palm. Another bead welled up immediately, trickling down the side of the head.
Choso let out a low, unconscious groan, hips rolling up into your fist like even in sleep he couldn’t help chasing the pleasure.
You were soaked. Your thighs were slick with it, clit throbbing in time with every lazy pump of your hand around him. You couldn’t wait anymore.
Swinging one leg over his hips, you settled yourself above him, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his waist. The hem of his t-shirt rode up your thighs as you reached down, guiding the blunt head of his cock through your folds.
You were dripping, already wet enough that the first slow drag of him against your entrance made an embarrassingly loud, slick sound. You bit your lip, circling your hips to coat him thoroughly, letting the head nudge and catch against your clit until sparks shot up your spine.
Then you sank down.
The stretch was perfect, you took him slowly, it burned delicious, inch by inch sinking further in, your tight walls fluttering and clenching greedily around the thick invasion.
A shaky breath left you when you finally bottomed out, ass flush against his hips, his cock buried to the hilt inside your greedy cunt. He felt so good. So full. You sat there for a moment, just breathing, letting yourself adjust while your pussy fluttered around him in little pulses.
Choso’s lashes twitched again. A soft, confused sound bubbled up. A half whimper, half sigh slipped from his parted lips. His hands shifted on the sheets like he was searching for something in his dreams, you rocked your hips experimentally, a tiny, shallow roll that dragged his cock along your walls and made you both moan quietly.
You started slow. Gentle, rising just enough to feel the drag, then sinking back down with a wet, filthy sound that filled the quiet room. Your hands braced on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your palms.
Every downward glide made your clit grind against his pelvis, sending little shocks of pleasure through you. His cock throbbed inside you, leaking steadily, making everything even slicker.
Choso’s head tipped back against the pillow, lips parting on a deeper groan. His hips jerked up once, instinctive, driving him just a little deeper and pulling a soft cry from your throat.
You leaned down, pressing your forehead to his, breathing in the sleepy-warm scent of him as you rode him with careful, rolling motions. Drawing it out, savoring every girthy slide, every twitch of his cock against your sensitive walls.
His eyes were still closed, but his breathing had changed in shallower, faster inhales. One hand lifted slowly, fingers brushing clumsily against your thigh like he was only half-aware of what his body was doing. You caught it gently, guiding his palm up under your shirt to cup your breast. His thumb brushed your nipple on instinct and you whimpered, clenching hard around him.
“That’s it, baby,” you whispered against his mouth, voice husky and low. “Feel how wet I am for you? Couldn’t sleep without this cock…”
Another slow grind. Another wet slide. His cock jerked hard inside you, precum flooding your insides as his body responded even if his mind was still floating somewhere between dream and waking.
You kept the pace torturously slow, savoring the way he filled you so perfectly, the way his shy, sweet body reacted to you even in sleep. Hips twitching up to meet yours, cock swelling thicker, balls drawing up tight. You could feel your own orgasm building in lazy, coiling waves, every drag of his length against that spot inside you making your thighs tremble.
You weren’t going to wake him yet.
Not until you’d taken exactly what you needed.
You kept riding him slow at first, savoring every thick inch as your tight, slick cunt swallowed his big cock over and over. The wet sounds were obscene in the quiet room, the soft, filthy squelches that escaped, every time you sank down until your ass met his hips, your dripping pussy creaming around the base of him.
So much precum was leaking from his tip that it mixed with your own arousal, making everything slippery and warm, coating his shaft in a shiny mess that dripped down to soak his balls and the sheets beneath him.
Your hands pressed flat against his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart under your palms as you rolled your hips in lazy circles. Each grind dragged your swollen clit perfectly over the faint, dark happy trail just above his cock, sending sparks of pleasure shooting straight up your spine.
It felt so fucking good, his thick length stretching you open, rubbing against every sensitive spot inside while your clit got that perfect friction. A broken moan slipped from your lips, louder than you meant it to be, echoing softly off the walls.
That was what finally pulled him awake.
Choso’s lashes fluttered, dark eyes cracking open in a hazy, sleepy daze. For a second he just stared up at the ceiling, brow furrowed like he was trying to piece together the dream that felt way too real, then his gaze dropped down and landed on you, straddling him, his t-shirt hiked up around your waist, your soaked pussy stuffed full of his cock.
A low, guttural groan tore from his throat the moment awareness hit. “Nnghh—fuck…” His voice was rough with sleep, cracked and deep, sending a fresh gush of wetness around his length. He could feel it now, every tight, fluttering clench of your cunt constricting around him like a vice, milking every drop of precum that kept spilling from his tip. His hips twitched up on instinct, pushing himself just a little deeper into your greedy heat.
Your name left his lips in a shaky groan, soft and laboured. “...baby…”
His arms came up immediately, one big hand sliding up the back of your thigh while the other cupped the soft curve of your ass, fingers digging in just enough to feel possessive without being rough, he shifted beneath you, planting his feet flat on the mattress so he could get more comfortable, letting his body sink deeper into the bed while still cradling you on top of him.
It was like he was offering himself up completely, letting you use his cock however you wanted, no questions, no hesitation, just that sweet, shy devotion that made your chest ache even as your pussy throbbed around him.
You didn’t stop moving. If anything, the moment his hands were on you, you started riding him harder, rising up until just the tip of his cock kissed your entrance, then slamming back down with a wet slap, taking him to the hilt in one smooth motion.
Your moans came louder now, unrestrained, mixing with the slick sounds of your dripping cunt fucking itself on his thick length. Each bounce made your tits jiggle under his borrowed shirt, nipples hard and brushing against the fabric.
Choso’s eyes were half-lidded, dark and glassy with lust, but still so soft as they stayed locked on your face. His thumbs stroked slow circles on your skin, one hand squeezing your ass encouragingly while the other slid higher, slipping under the hem of the shirt to rest warm against your lower back.
“Shit… you’re so wet,” he mumbled, voice thick and sleepy, cheeks already flushing that pretty pink you loved. His cock twitched hard inside you, another heavy spurt of precum flooding your walls as you ground down especially deep, clit rubbing messy circles against his happy trail. “Feels… nghh… feels too good… didn’t even wake me up first…”
He groaned your name again, quieter this time, almost like a prayer, his grip tightening on your ass as he helped guide your movements, just enough to meet your bounces with small, eager thrusts from below. Not taking over. Never taking over. Just letting you fuck his cock like you owned it, because in his shy, horny little heart, you basically did.
Your hands stayed braced on his chest, nails digging in lightly as you picked up the pace, riding him harder now. Fast, desperate rolls of your hips that made your slick drip down his shaft in messy rivulets.
The room filled with the sound of skin slapping skin, your moans, his broken whimpers, and the constant wet squelch of your tight pussy taking every inch he had to give.
Choso’s head tipped back against the pillow, lips parted, that blood mark across his nose standing out as his face flushed darker. But his eyes never left you, watching with that adoring, overwhelmed look, like he still couldn’t believe this was real, like he was the luckiest guy in the world to wake up buried inside his greedy roommate’s cunt.
And he let you keep going. Let you use him, let you chase that building pleasure while his hands roamed softly over your thighs and ass, whispering your name like it was the only word he knew.
Your movements were growing sloppy, hips losing their steady rhythm as exhaustion and overwhelming pleasure started to blur together. You were still chasing it, chasing that tight coiling heat that built deep in your belly, because Choso’s cock was perfect. Thick and long and curved just right to drag against every sensitive spot inside your dripping cunt with every bounce.
Your slick was everywhere now, coating his shaft, his balls, the faint happy trail you kept grinding your swollen clit against in messy little circles. The wet sounds were louder, filthier, your greedy pussy squelching obscenely around him as you rode him harder, faster, desperate for that edge.
He noticed the second you started leaning more into him, your body growing heavier, thighs trembling from the effort. His dark eyes softened even as they stayed glued to where you two were joined, watching your tight, slick folds stretch around his thick cock every time you sank down.
“Mhm… tired already, sweet girl?” His voice was still husky with sleep, low and gentle, but there was that familiar shy fondness threaded through it. One hand stroked soothingly up the back of your thigh while the other stayed planted on your ass, helping guide you just a little.
You whimpered, a soft, needy sound that made his cock twitch hard inside you. “Mngh… feels s’good, Cho…” you mewled, the words slurred and breathy as you ground down especially deep, clit rubbing perfect friction against his skin.
“Yeah…” he breathed, almost reverent, watching the way your pussy took every inch of him so greedily, your arousal dripping down his shaft in shiny rivulets. “You look so pretty like this… riding my cock like you can’t get enough.”
His hands slid slowly up your back under the oversized t-shirt, warm palms pressing you down against his chest until your bodies were flush together.
The new angle made him feel even deeper, pressing right against that spot that made your toes curl, you let out a shaky moan, forehead dropping to rest against his collarbone for a second before he tilted your chin up gently.
“Come here, baby… gimme a kiss.”
You obliged without hesitation, leaning in until your lips crashed into his in a messy, desperate kiss. Choso sighed into your mouth, the sound vibrating through his chest as one hand came up to cradle the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair to pull you even closer. The other arm wrapped tight around your waist, holding you securely against him like he never wanted to let go.
Then he moved.
His hips rolled up in a smooth, powerful thrust, driving his cock nearly all the way out before slamming back into your dripping cunt with a wet slap.
You moaned loud into the kiss, the sound swallowed by his lips as he kissed you deeper, his slender tongue licking into your mouth, sucking gently on your tongue in that slow, filthy way that always made your brain short-circuit.
His hand tightened in your hair, not pulling, just anchoring you to him while he fucked up into you with steady, deep strokes that had your slick gushing around his thickness.
Your arms wrapped around his chest, hands clutching at the fabric of his rucked-up t-shirt as you melted further into him, your body going pliant and soft against his, letting him take some of the work while you still rocked your hips to meet every thrust.
The kiss turned wetter, sloppier, tongues sliding together as little whimpers and moans spilled between you, Choso’s breathing was ragged against your lips, his cock throbbing and leaking inside your tight heat, every upward snap of his hips making your clit grind against his pelvis in the most perfect rhythm.
He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes half-lidded and dark with lust, cheeks flushed that pretty shade of pink. “That’s it… just like that,” he murmured, voice shaky and sweet. “Use me, baby. Feels so good when you’re this wet for me…”
You could feel yourself getting closer, walls fluttering and clenching around his big cock as he kept thrusting up into you, slow, deep and devastating. All while his big hands roamed your back and waist, holding you close like you were the most precious thing in his world.
Your moans mixed with his quiet groans, bodies moving together in the dark, slick and messy and so fucking intimate it made your heart ache right alongside the pleasure.
Choso kissed you again, softer this time, like he was pouring every bit of his shy, doting love into it, because even when he was buried balls-deep inside his greedy roommate’s cunt at one in the morning, he was still your sweet boy.
He held you so close, arms wrapped tight around your body like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go even a little. Cradled against his chest, your face tucked into the warm curve of his neck and shoulder, you felt completely surrounded by him, by his scent, his heat, the steady thud of his heart under your cheek.
Choso’s hips started moving with more purpose now, thrusting up into your dripping cunt in deep, measured strokes that had his thick cock dragging along every inch of your walls.
You were moaning openly against his skin, soft little sounds spilling out with every thrust. The lewd, wet sounds of your pussy and his cock filled the room with obscene squelching and slapping as your slick mixed with all the precum he kept leaking, making everything slippery and messy.
Each time he bottomed out, the head of his cock nudged right against your cervix, a sharp, delicious pressure that made your toes curl and your walls flutter hard around him.
Drool was slipping from the corner of your mouth onto his chest, soaking into the fabric of his rucked-up t-shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, it made him groan low in his throat, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head while the other stayed splayed across your lower back, petting slow, soothing circles over your skin under the shirt.
“That’s my sweet girl,” he murmured into your hair, voice rough but so impossibly gentle. “Just let go… I’ve got you.”
His thrusts never faltered, kept it deep and steady, hips rolling up to grind against your clit with every plunge, the faint happy trail providing that perfect friction while his cock kept bullying that sensitive spot deep inside. Your moans grew higher, needier, body trembling in his arms as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your belly.
Choso kept petting you the whole time, with gentle strokes along your spine, fingers threading through your hair, thumb brushing softly over your cheek when you turned your face into his chest. He was so careful, so doting even while he was fucking into you like he was made for this, his big cock stretching your tight cunt open and hitting your cervix with every thrust.
You came hard.
Your pussy clenched down around him like a vice, walls spasming and fluttering as waves of pleasure crashed through you. A broken cry tore from your throat, muffled against his chest as your slick gushed around his thickness, soaking his cock and his pelvis, dripping down to the sheets.
Your thighs shook, nails digging into his sides as you rode out the orgasm on his cock, grinding sloppily against him while he kept thrusting through it. Slow, deep strokes that drew the pleasure out until you were whimpering and oversensitive.
Choso groaned your name softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his hands never stopping their gentle petting. “Good girl… so good for me,” he whispered, voice shaky with how tight you were squeezing him. “Cum all over my cock, baby… that’s it…”
He held you through every aftershock, cradling you to his chest like you were something precious, his cock still buried deep inside your pulsing cunt while his fingers continued their soothing strokes along your back. Even now, shy and sweet as ever, he was completely devoted and letting you fall apart on him and catching every piece with those warm, careful hands.
Your cunt was still fluttering and spasming around him from your orgasm, milking his thick cock for everything it had like it never wanted to let go. Every tight, rhythmic squeeze pulled more precum from his tip, making the slide even wetter, even messier as he kept thrusting up into you from below.
Choso’s breathing was ragged now, hot against your hair, his arms locked around your body like iron bands. Holding you tighter, closer, cradling you flush to his chest as if the only thing that mattered was keeping you right there.
He started thrusting deeper, hips snapping up with more force, the head of his cock kissing your cervix over and over in heavy, deliberate strokes. The lewd sounds between you grew louder and wetter, filthy squelches of your soaked pussy taking every inch, his balls slapping softly against your ass with each upward drive. You could feel him swelling inside you, veins pulsing, the whole thick length twitching hard as he fought to hold back just a little longer.
“M’gonna cum, baby…” he groaned, voice cracking with need, eyes squeezing shut tight as his head tipped back against the pillow. “Gonna cum—fuck, you’re squeezing me so hard…”
You hugged him tighter in response, arms wrapping around his neck, face buried in the crook of his shoulder as you whispered soft, breathless little sounds against his skin. Your pussy clenched deliberately around him, greedy and possessive, pulling him even deeper as you wiggled your hips just enough to grind your clit against his pelvis one last time.
Choso let out a broken, shaky moan. Your name spilling from his lips like a prayer and then he came hard.
His cock pulsed violently inside your tight heat, thick ropes of cum flooding you in heavy, endless spurts. You could feel every throb, every jet of warm, sticky release painting your walls and filling you up until it was too much, it leaked out around his shaft in creamy white dribbles that mixed with your own slick and dripped down to soak the sheets.
He kept thrusting through it, shallow little pumps that pushed his cum deeper, making sure you took every drop while his arms trembled around you from the intensity.
You wiggled a little more, settling even deeper onto his cock with a soft, satisfied sigh, letting yourself stay stuffed full of his cum. The fullness was perfectly warm and heavy inside you, his cock still twitching with aftershocks as your cunt continued to flutter around him, gently milking the last few spurts from his spent length.
After a long moment, Choso’s breathing started to even out. He pulled back just enough to look at you, dark eyes hazy and soft with that shy, adoring look he always got after he came. One hand came up to cup the side of your face, thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek as he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
You snuggled closer immediately, nuzzling into his chest with a content little hum, your bodies still joined, his cum slowly leaking out around where you were connected. His other arm stayed wrapped securely around your waist, fingers tracing lazy, soothing patterns along your back under the shirt while he held you like you were the only thing in his world.
“Love waking up like this with you…” he murmured sleepily against your hair, voice low and sweet, cheeks still flushed pink. “Stay right here, okay? Don’t move yet…”
And you didn’t. You just let yourself melt into him, full and warm and perfectly satisfied, while your shy, doting, horny roommate kept you cradled close in the quiet hours of the night.
