riri

levi and sukuna's sweetheart 𑣲 anime oneshot major

[ryomensbby]

rica ʚ 18 ɞ her | levi's gf && sukuna's luv ᵎᵎ jjk, aot, hq, kny yapstar

࣪ ׅ 𐔌ㅤguidelines ┆ masterlist ₊˚⊹ ˖ ࣪ ┆requests via asks!

blog contains nsfw! please read my guidelines above before proceeding ᢉ𐭩

© ryomensbby est. 2025

[ryomensbby]

distance really does make the heart grow fonder ₊⊹ ryomen sukuna x reader

notes: modern uni au, long distance relationship, fluff, kinda angsty if you squint??, softkuna our love!!! rushed & not proofread

winner of my filler poll! i promise the others listed will be out very soon 🫶🏼

wc: 2.4k

while relationships are already perceived difficult as is, distance is just another factor to pile onto it. it turns love into something ceremonial.

things move heavier and slower when distance comes to play, where every little feeling travels miles and miles before it reaches the other person, and by the time it does, it's swollen with meaning.

every text is reread, every call is memorized, every little conversation is replayed. every goodbye feels like hell.

this is something you learn quickly, not because you were taught it, but because loving your boyfriend from hours worth of drives and several train stops forces the lesson into your hands whether you like it or not.

college was supposed to come off as exciting, which, it is, but there's nothing very exciting about adjusting to seeing your lover on the very rare holiday breaks after seeing them most of the week for most of the year for your entirety of your time in high school.

it was supposed to be independence and new beginnings. instead, it just felt like a long, ongoing exercise of trying to be patient with the world knowing you won't be seeing each other everyday, have to go without weekend dates, can't drive up to each other's places to just hold each other and hang out.

you and ryomen were in different prefectures. different cities, sometimes different weather, miles stacked on miles, roads looping between you two like a bad joke.

and yet? you both managed.

you stayed through three hour long video calls because he was stuck in lab late. he stayed through your grueling exam weeks, his reassurance through the phone somehow working just the same way it did when you were physically together.

and in return, you stayed through his long exam weeks where the only thing either of you had to energy to say was "i miss you" and "i love you" whispered like a confession before falling asleep on the phone.

sukuna can handle many things. he does sports, he can solve problems, he can lift heavy things, fix what's broken, handle harsh words, take a joke. everything. the man is built for everything.

besides distance, of course, not to mention it's with you, and that only pains him more.

while he didn't fully admit how lonely it was, he just simply dropped texts in the middle of the day or say things on call, things like: "this bed's too big without you," or, "i had my morning coffee the way you like it," and, "there's a food place here on campus i think you'd like."

of course, you matched his indirect but very obvious "i miss you's" with zero shame.

you told him how the weather in your area was the kind he liked, slight wind with the sun still out but not dead chilly, how you were annoyed that his clothes he told you to take to college with you was starting to lose his scent, how it's weird not being able to reach out to hold his hand. it was muscle memory by now.

breaks were rare. painfully rare.

college doesn't wait, and it most definitely doesn't care that you're in love. semesters drag, assignments fill your laptop, your schedules remain packed tight, and only having so much money as freshman to travel city to city.

when visits did happen, they were planned weeks in advance, counted down the days with so much excitement that someone might think you and sukuna meeting again might be televised.

this meeting in particular had been highlighted in your planner, both physical and digital, a heart emoji next to it and a smiley face drawn in. marked on your phone calendar, the dates on each of your assignments being a reminder that you're another day closer to seeing each other again.

sukuna was coming to you. like hell he'd make you travel that way all on your own.

that weekend, you woke up bright and early even though his bus wasn't scheduled to arrive until late afternoon. your body refused to sleep. how could it when you spent most of the night pack last minute on video call?

you cleaned your room as nerves buzzed under your skin, though it was already clean, rearranged things that didn't need rearranging, checked your phone so many times you could've gone insane.

he texted you updates the entire way.

a photo of him with a bag over his shoulder, in the car, the front of a train station, followed by texts with how far he is from the next one, how he just got off, how he's waiting for the bus.

ryo ‹𝟹

this vending machine coffee tastes like shit directions said the traffic in the next city is rly bad but it's okay bc i'm gonna see u i'm thinking about u i'm gonna see u soon

each message makes you feel light on your feet, heart swelling, excitement and fear tangling together all at once.

when his latest text came, saying he was ten minutes away, you didn't even bother pretending to be calm and composed. you stood by your window, peering past the curtains and down the road, wondering ears picking up every little noise of any vehicle thinking it's him.

inside the car, sukuna's looking between the driver's gps displaying the directions and his phone simultaneously. five minutes away from you. a little less than a mile left.

and then, he was there.

you saw him before he saw you, watching as a lift pulled slowly in front of your place. he stepped out, scanning the building briefly and you swear you saw him let out a breath.

he takes his things from the trunk, thanks the driver, and the second his gaze landed on you through the window, something in him broke open.

you don't remember unlocking the door. you don't remember stepping outside, either.

all you knew was that suddenly you were running, down the steps, shoes slapping against the pavement, your breath coming out in shaky bursts.

his bags in his hands? his backpack? all let go, dropped to the floor, arms opening for you without a second thought.

the impact of you hitting his chest knocked the air out the both of you.

his arms locked around you instantly the same way yours did, absolutely crushing, desperate, like you'd disappear if he loosened for even a fraction of a second.

your face dug into his shoulder, hands grabbing onto his jacket, inhaling him like oxygen. both of you had been holding your breath and you didn't even know it, only releasing it when your hands were on each other again.

sukuna pressed his face into your hair, pressing rushed kisses to your temple like he couldn't believe the moment at all. his voice was rough when he spoke, because even someone like him couldn't be normal in this situation for the life of him.

"fuck," he croaked out breathlessly, cradling the back of your head, holding you to his body. "i'm home."

you nodded against him even though he couldn't see it, your arms wrapped all the way around his torso like anything less would take him away again.

"you're here," you said, voice muffled, sorta shaky. it's weird, hearing his voice in person and not through your phone speaker, but it's so endearing at the same time. "like, really."

he pulled back just enough to look at you, and he exhaled upon seeing your face. his hands slid up, thumbs brushing under your eyes like he was checking to make sure you weren't crying. you were barely holding it in.

"i missed you," past tense now. because he's actually with you. "so bad it made me stupid. thought i was going crazy knowing i couldn't kiss you everyday."

you laughed softly, even as tears burned behind your eyes. "i was, too." you lean into his touch, his hands finally on your face again, still warm like you remember.

his mouth curved into a smile that even the most high quality video call wouldn't do justice for, all relief and exhaustion and love, and then he was leaning down to kiss you with a kind of urgency that only came with months of restraint.

it wasn't rushed, though. deep, perfectly soft, like he was trying to make up for every kiss he hadn't been able to give you over time. his hands still held your face as your lips moved against each others.

when he finally pulls back, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed as he caught his breath. "i swear," he murmured. "i feel like... i survived a war, or something."

you swallowed hard, nodding, fingers tracing the familiar lines of his jaw you knew so well. "me too," you admitted quietly. "i feel like i've been waiting forever." you for sure would've, if that's what it took.

inside, everything felt smaller with him there.

before his arrival, your room echoed with weird silence, every move you made bouncing back for you to hear. and now with sukuna? everything just felt complete.

you showed him around your place hand in hand. it's perfectly you. the place smelt like you, decorated in such a you way, and he couldn't help but notice little hints of him around the place.

a polaroid of you both stuck to your fridge with a magnet, a matching keychain attached to your keys thrown lazily on the counter, the monthly flowers he sent you tended to in a vase, one of his hoodies you stole resting on the armrest of your couch.

in your room, he dropped onto your bed with a groan, arms opening, wordlessly calling you over to him. you didn't hesitate, climbing into his lap, sinking into the mattress alongside him as he wrapped himself around you like a shield.

you laid there like that for a long time. barely moving as his arms ran up and down your back, chin on the top of your head, your arm draped around him, feet bumping each other lazily in silence. just feeling each other.

just breathing, the quiet reassurance of being in the same space again, your fan and heartbeats being the only thing audible.

"damn near lost my mind." he said eventually, inhaling the scent of your hair. "you feel so real. i was going crazy not being able to hold you for so long.

you shifted slightly just to look up at him, hand resting right over his heart. you can't help but lean up to kiss him in response. "i'm real." you confirm, and he only huffed as he returned your kiss.

"i dreamed of this." he adds, like he's admitting something. "dreamed of you, your place, everything. while tryna figure out how i'm gonna go the rest of the semester without... this."

your chest tightened at that, emotion blooming painfully, causing a shaky breath to be drawn out of you. "we're really dramatic." you said softly, smiling despite the ache.

"dramatic," he agrees. "but i'm serious."

later in the day, when the evening settles in and the light outside your window softened into gold and then to dusk, you sit alongside each other on your couch, bowls of quickly prepared dinner on the coffee table in front of you while a movie you two bonded over played on your TV. 

your head rested on his shoulder, his hand laced with yours, thumb smoothing over your knuckles in a slow rhythm while you talked about everything and nothing all at once. 

your classes. difficult ones, ones you enjoyed, ones with annoying professors. friends you’d made. a new drink you’d tried. new reads. your study spot. food places you want to try with him now that he’s here. 

he did the same. friends he had met that doubled as a study group. how his roommate doubled as his gym buddy. how he’s not a big fan of the dining hall food. the weather in the city his school is set in. 

every so often, he’d lean down to kiss your forehead, just double checking that you were still there. he really just couldn’t grasp the moment, could he? 

“i don’t plan on letting go of you for my entire stay,” he said quietly at one point. “wanna hold your hand the entire time.” 

“we can make that happen.” 

that’s exactly what you do for the entire time he’s over. 

you brush your teeth alongside each other. getting ready for a very much needed date? you’re perched on his lap while you do your hair. on the said date, you stay hand in hand the whole time.

at night, he gives you one of his shirts, one where his scent is still very there in place for the ones that had faded at this point. you fall asleep wrapped up in his scent and wake up with your arms around each other the exact same. 

you don’t eat dinner across from each other, but rather right next to each other. one of his hands are always somewhere, holding yours, around your shoulders or waist, resting on your thigh. letting go is a nightmare at this point. 

one day, he notices the way your face twists, like you’re thinking about him leaving. to be fair, it was coming soon. two weeks sounds long on its own, but not so much when you’re the ones living it like a time limit. 

“hey,” he speaks up, squeezing your hand. “don’t think about it.” mind reader much? 

“um, right,” you nod, managing a barely-there smile, but the thought has been eating you up since the day you planned to meet. “i hate it. feels like starting a countdown the second you arrive.” 

“i hate it too,” he agrees quickly, easily, because he really does hate the thought of leaving as well, just as much as you do. “but i’ll keep coming back.” he says firmly, a promise. “every chance i get. i’ll spend all my breaks on you. i don’t care how far i’ve gotta go.” 

that eased you up even the littlest that it did, smiling as your eyes stung, and you instinctively shifted closer to him as if that was even possible. 

you nod. “i know,” your voice comes out soft. “and i’m willing to wait.” 

so, for now, he was here. holding you like a man “coming home from war” like he had said. loving you is something worth crossing miles and enduring months for. your hearts ached as much as they were full, but you both knew perfectly well that you’d survive it. love like this always did. 

love letter from riri 💌 ugh i'm emotional and this had me crying 🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️ people who are in long distance relationships are actual WARRIORS, i literally tear up at just the thought of it :')

quick little storytime of my love life lately 😶 i've been going out with this guy who's going into civ engineering, and omh if this isn't the most beautiful man i've ever seen? good smile good eyes gorg hair and his laugh is nice too like ?? what?? the heck?? why is ?? ur laugh? nice??

he's also so wonderfully put together and he helps me out whenever i'm stumped in anything math related like yes pls i love me a smartypants 😆 told him i loved bagels and we went out for breakfast three days ago to a bagel place... literally what is happening.

ANYWHOOO ty for reading!

hope you enjoyed ᰔ

© ryomensbby est. 2025

tags 𑁤 @sukusdoll @babybutterscup @gieeeeeeeeeee

[ryomensbby]

fillers! ₊⊹

hi babes!! thank you soooso much for all the love on fixer upper which i'm now turning into a little mini series (by unanimous decision hehe) currently have a series mlist going 😆

as you can clearly see, it's taking quiteee a bit for me to get more parts up, but trusttt it's in the works! i just want to finish everything all at once so i can upload them consistently rather than have huge weird gap days between.

so while i'm working on that, i'd like to give a few options of works i have sitting in my drafts to kind of fill the emptiness while i work on the series 😭

these weren't yet posted due to my winter break ending (ugh so sad!!!) and also because my main focus writing-wise is fixer upper!

also i hope it's not an issue that it isn't in poll format 🥲 i wanted to add a little summary of each and there's unfortunately a character limit </3

option 1: toji, he's an ass guy | 18+ modern au, where toji just lovesss reader's butt. contains smut!

option 2: toji, midnight ballerina | 18+, where shiu takes toji to a "real club" for him to experience, and there he meets stripper!reader. contains smut!

option 3: ryomen sukuna, long distance | fluff, uni au, where sukuna and reader are in a ldr due to attending colleges in different cities. cute little one shot of them seeing each other in person after a while.(published here!)

option 4: ryomen sukuna, hometown madness | angst if you squint, fluff, implied uni au, where reader and sukuna are old lovers

option 5: satoru gojo, weirdo silly obsessed loverboy | fluff, kind of suggestive (dirty jokes and stuff but that's mainly all) where bf!gojo shows his love through the silliest little gesutres

option 6: satoru gojo, muscle memory | 18+ uni au, where reader is struggling with studying for anatomy/phys class and gojo offers to be a practice model. contains smut!

and of course, all of these will be up at some point, most likely after i get at least !!! one !!! more part of my little sukuna series out 🤍 (your girl is slackingggg)

let me know in the comments!

© ryomensbby est. 2025

[ryomensbby]

fixer upper ₊⊹ ryomen sukuna x reader

notes: modern au, single mother reader, neighbor sukuna, fluff, pos (ex) husband naoya (cheating, financial manipulator or smt like that, absent father, lazy), formatted kinda weird imo (time jumps, random scenarios between to build sukuna and reader’s relationship), kinda fast paced, eventual smut, and ofc not proofread 😭

potential mini series question mark?

wc: 2.3k

you knew by a million percent that you would’ve never married naoya if you knew things were going to end up the way they did, that he’d end up as the kind of husband women only had nightmares of. 

the first thing you learned about loving him was that it required an impressive amount of patience: for the way he spoke empty promises, patience for the way he let responsibilities slip off his shoulders to pile onto yours, patience for the silence, how he never kept his word of “i’ll be home soon.” 

you learned patience in grocery aisles, where you had to be careful with how much you spent with basic needs like groceries for meals and formula for your baby son since naoya was taking money out the account for whatever reason, learned it again at two in the morning almost every night while rocking your son back to sleep alone, learned it when his phone lit with lovely messages to a woman that wasn’t you. 

the lie you told yourself was that he’d change once your son was born, which clearly wasn’t the case. 

at first, he hadn’t been so bad. he was at the birth, yes, carried the carseat, yeah, helped you out for the first three months or so until he decided that you were healed enough to manage a newborn child on your own. 

he hadn’t change, and if he did it was for so little. he missed doctor’s appointments because he “forgot,” because he had work meetings that “ran late” despite working from home on those days, staying out late and came back home with the audacity to walk into your home nursery smelling like someone else’s perfume. 

when money started disappearing from the shared account, he blamed work, said his pay was cutting short ‘cause he was missing hours, that he’d pick up those said hours next week, “needed it for gas,” a bunch of bullshit you never would imagine someone to spew. 

you remember the day you stood at the checkout line with a cart half-full, akio perched in the child seat, kicking and babbling to himself when the card declined once, twice. you felt heat crawl up your neck as the cashier waited politely, the line behind you growing. you managed to pay with whatever bills you had left, with the cost of leaving some items, of course.

later, at home, you checked the account. insufficient funds when you could’ve sworn your paycheck from last month would’ve covered it completely, that trip of groceries and the next. 

naoya shrugged when you asked him where it had went. 

“i needed it,” he said. “you worry too much.” 

that night, while akio slept with his cheek pressed against your chest, you stared at the ceiling as the gears in your head turned in process of making a decision you never thought you’d make. well? what can you say? you were done with someone else’s neglect. 

you didn’t leave dramatically. didn’t totally fuck up the house by knocking things down, beating his car up, or anything like that. you planned. waited. called your parents and listened as relief cracked through their voices. 

your reached out to family a few cities over, cousins, an auntie, and learned there were jobs nearby, neighborhoods that were quiet and safe and close enough to all of them to that wou wouldn’t feel like you were drowning alone. 

when naoya finally got the hint that you were leaving, he fucking chuckled. 

“you’ll be back,” he said, like he was absolutely sure. “i’ll keep the bed warm for ya.” he looked down at akio’s folded clothing you were ready to pack away. “and the kid.”

you didn’t respond to that. didn’t argue, and just packed. folded akio’s little clothes, your clothes, all his toys in a bin, bed sheets and pillows enough for just the both of you, and everything else to get you two by in a new home. 

the drive was long, akio falling asleep halfway through an episode of an educational show, head tipped against the carseat with drool dripping out his mouth as he snored mouth wide open. you let the silence stretch, radio low, thoughts drifting between guild and relief. 

letting your son grow up without a father? taking him away from naoya completely? but at the same time, letting him grow up as someone who didn’t come close to counting as a father at all? guess which sounded better. 

move-in day came warped in morning sunlight and exhaustion. the house itself wasn’t perfect, you didn’t expect it to be, but it was definitely manageable. solid foundation, clean, bright, and all for you and akio. more importantly, it was close. close to family who promised dinners and babysitting when you needed. 

“this is our house?” akio hopped out the car the second you unbuckled him, eyes wide as he took everything in. 

“yes, bub,” you said, smiling despite the ache already blooming in your arms. “all ours.” 

unloading was harder than you had anticipated. other than all the things you were able to cram into your car, it was the stuff that came in the moving van that got you. 

you had told the movers to you had everything covered. to leave the wrapped couch in the living room, the bed in the bedroom, the stools in the kitchen, that you’d manage everything just fine on your own as long as super heavy lifting didn’t play a part. 

you managed to drag a few things into the garage before needing to stop, hand on your knees as you piled one box on top of another, dishes probably, stacked awkwardly. 

akio wandered on the driveway just behind you, poking at a rack with a stick, humming to himself as he rammed the heads of his dinosaurs together. you watched him for a moment, heart squeezing. 

“okay,” you murmured, straightening up, the warm sun beating on your back as you stepped back out of the garage to unload more from the car. “three more boxes.”

you didn’t notice him at first.

no, not akio, but someone else. not until you were halfway back to the car, sweat cooling on your hairline, that you head a voice that didn’t belong to your son. grown, low, rough around the edges, but not exactly dangerous or unkind. 

“so, who’s winning?” 

your stomach dropped.

your heart was already kicked up into your throat, head turning sharply, every instinct flaring at once. stranger danger, duh. motherhood has you rewired in so many different ways. 

akio was standing on the driveway still, holding his dinosaurs while a man crouched a few feet away from him on the sidewalk. 

and goodness was he huge? not just tall, but just straight up bulked. visibly solid, broad, and every synonym for that. worn t-shirt, work pants smudged and streaked with what looked like paint or dust from wood, something like that. pink hair caught the sunlight, startingly bright against his warmed skin tone.

you heard akio giggle at the question. “i think… this one,” he said proudly. “he’s strong. he always wins.” 

the man snorted with a scoff-ish laugh. “figured,” he gestures vaguely to the little scratch along one of the dinosaurs teeth, “he looks like he’s survived a ton.” 

after registering that he was just making friendly, childish conversation, your peaked heart rate calmed and your breathing steadied. you approached the two slowly, expression neutral as your pulse calmed in your ears. 

“akio,” you said, voice steady. “hey, bud.” you coaxed gently to maybe make your son just run to you completely and away from who was, as of right now, a total stranger. 

he turned at once, beaming brightly, smile showing all his missing and baby teeth. “mama! this is mr… uh…” he paused, looking up at the man, still crouching. 

you looked down, following where akio turned. “sukuna,” the man replied, standing now, "ryomen sukuna," and from looking down at him turned to looking up at him. really up. “i live next door.” he points his thumb to the house on the right, literally right next door. 

his gaze flicked to you, how alert you were, the slightest bit timid as you stood close to your son. “sorry,” he spoke. “didn’t mean to scare you. kid wandered over, started telling me about his dinosaurs.” 

“ah, right…” you offered sukuna a small nod. “‘m sorry, too. we just moved in. i hope all the boxes moving and stuff isn’t a noisy bother.” 

“figured,” he said, glancing up away from you at the open garage, your open car, the door to inside propped open by more boxes. “house’s been empty for a while. don’t even remember the last time i had neighbors on this side of me.” 

you exhaled, some of the tightness in your chest loosening, still slightly jolty from earlier. “is that so?” you nod again, sort of awkwardly as you looked back at the garage too.

“yeah,” he replied easily, so casual for a stranger. “place sat quiet long enough that i stopped expecting anyone to move in.” and most definitely not a seemingly sweetheart of a mother and her son. 

“uhm, anyways,” you prompt an little awkward laugh. “i should probably get back to unloading,” you said, breaking the moment gently. “before i convince myself to leave everything in the car until tomorrow."

sukuna glanced at the boxes again, your open car, the way you shifted on your feet, hand rubbing absently at your lower back with your other placed on akio’s shoulder. 

“need help?” he asked, but it was already an offer more than anything. 

you hesitated, instinctively ready to refuse. you’d learned how to do everything yourself because it’s not like naoya was going to help you. pride flared first, then caution. but you exhaustion spoke for you. 

“i mean,” you started, letting out a long sigh. “if… if you don’t mind. i don’t want to impose."

he scoffed lightly. “please. you’re not. neighbors help neighbors, ‘n i’m not gonna let a momma push everything into a new house on her own. you’ve got a kid.” he glances down at akio momentarily. 

something about the way he said it, so firm, uncomplicated, made your throat tighten. 

you nodded. “okay,” you said. “thank you.” 

he moved without another word, long strides eating up the distance to your parked car. you turned, akio following. he lifted a box with ease, the light clatter against cardboard feeling your ears, then paused. 

“where d’you want it?” 

“garage is fine,” you said, following behind with akio toddling along at your side. “we’ll sort everything later.” with a light grunt, you picked up a box as well. 

sukuna stacked the box neatly along the boxes you already unloaded, eyes scanning the way you labeled them. “dishes,” “photos,” “displays,” and finally, a box simply labeled “akio’s” with a little heart drawn right after his name. 

he moved efficiently, no wasted motion, no complaining. just did what he said he’d do. it was strangely grounding to watch, like seeing something function the way it was supposed to. it’s sad that you saw something as simple as that as foreign.

“mr., do you have a baby?” akio asked suddenly, causing you to freeze for half a second, nearly letting the box in your hands slip from your grasp. you were ready to smooth things over from the awkwardness his question may have caused, but sukuna just laughed with a shake of his head.

“a baby?” he repeated, eyebrows slightly lifted from akio’s question. “nah,” he said finally. “that route never really worked out for me.” 

“ohhhhh.” akio hummed thoughtfully. “that’s okay. you’re still nice.” 

you smiled despite yourself. 

by the time your car was empty with everything moved from the garage and actually into the house, your arms felt lighter, and your breath felt steadier. thanks to him, you guess. 

“thank you,” you say for maybe the third time by now, but it was sincere. “really. i didn’t expect–”

“don’t you worry about it,” he cut in easily. “moving is always hard. might as well lighten the load of your morning before it drags into the rest of your day.”

you blinked, surprised, but he didn’t elaborate. just so up to help, and his sureness eased any unsettling feeling you had. at this point, he was your first source of comfort in a place nowhere near familiar just yet. 

he wiped his hands on his pants and nodded towards akio, criss-cross in the garage now, murmuring dialogue between his toys. “kid seems behaved, though,” he added. “that counts for something. he make things easier for you?” 

you looked down at your son. “yeah,” you said softly. “he’s super behaved. makes everything the slightest bit more manageable.” you admit. 

walking backwards out your garage until he was on the sidewalk again, stepping back towards his house, he paused. “if you and your boy need anything,” he said, jerking his thumb to his house the same way he did earlier. “yard work, tools, paint fixes, wha’ever. i’m around.” 

“i’ll keep that in mind.” you replied. “i,” you gestured to akio. “i mean, we appreciate the help. and the welcome.”

“glad to have been the first to do it.” he nodded once more. "akio, right?" he points down at your son.

"mhm!" he confirms with the brightest grin on his face.

"alright. alright, you're akio, and you are?" he looks back up at you.

"y/n," you bring up a hand to greet him "formally" with a handshake.

"hm. good to know." he returns, hand firm but not rough in yours as he returned your greeting. then, he headed off, leaving you standing in the driveway with akio, but not without a “welcome to the neighborhood.”

he bid akio goodbye with a small wave before turning his back to you, walking the rest of the way down the sidewalk and up the driveway into his own garage. 

upon walking back into the garage with akio, he ran up to you and hugged your side and whispered, “i like him,” you couldn’t help but agree, just a little.

“i think i do also.”

 an unfamiliar feeling settled in your chest. hope, maybe. but something good. you couldn’t tell, but maybe it was the sense that you weren’t completely alone in this. 

love letter from riri 💌 me when i need to clear out my drafts :( the other 13 pages of this work is sitting in my google docs! i just needa figure everything out plus some editing and i'll hopefully have more parts out soon 🥹

i also plan on having a taglist (as brought up to me in the comments by a few people) if you'd like to be added, go ahead and comment! 🫶🏼

hope you enjoyed ᰔ

© ryomensbby est. 2025

[ryomensbby]

hiii i love the sorority panties story is it possible for u to write more on the plot, maybe a part 2 ?? ;)) love ur work!!

sorority panties ii. ₊⊹ ryomen sukuna x reader

notes: continuation of this oneshot, as req'd by anon! 18+, modern uni au, established relationship, frat bf sukuna & sorority gf reader, reader wearing a dress, smut, lots of kissing, pulling reader's panties off w/ his teeth (what a freak 🙄) unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), "taste yourself" kinda thing, mating press, dirty talk, sukuna teasing reader, not so private since his frat brothers are literally downstairs, not proofread

wc: 3.2k

the door of sukuna's door handle rattles once more for emphasis, satoru annoyingly drumming his knuckles on the door in a rhythm. sukuna doesn't move right away, still catching his breath, your stained panties (thanks to him) still on his cock, half-hard by now, and your bra sitting on his chest.

"ten minutes," satoru calls, voice sing-song and smug when he finally stops that annoying ass knock of his. "or we're leaving you."

"fuck off," sukuna snaps from the other side of the door, moving your panties off of him, carefully, stacking your bra on top as he drags his pants and boxers back up.

there's laugher outside his door, retreating footsteps, the sound of suguru and satoru already halfway down the stairs.

plugging his phone in for charge, he goes back to his drawer again to actually look for gym clothes, your undergarments held tight in his hand.

he ends up getting his shower in, tossing his cum-stained boxers into his hamper, placing yours that he finished on right on top. he grabs his keys, shoves his phone into his pocket, and takes one last glance into the hamper before slamming his door shut like it'll keep his thoughts contained.

spoiler alert, it doesn't work.

the gym is loud in the way campus gyms are expected to be, metal clanging, grunts, tiktok audios playing from people's phones set up on a stand for mirror clips.

sukuna goes through the usual motions of being in the gym on autopilot: spotting when people needed, un and reloading plates, letting his body do what it knows how to do while his mind stays stubbornly elsewhere.

his brothers, toji and satoru especially, keep on glancing at him between breaks, a grin tugging at toji's scarred lip like he's caught onto something.

"someone's distracted." satoru says eventually, wiping sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt, tugging an earphone out his ear. "so unlike you."

"i'm literally not," sukuna's reply is quick, flat as he pulls the pin on one of the machines to adjust the weight to the next one up.

"you are." toji insists, pulling plates off the squat rack right next to the two. "you wait way too long to start your next set than usual. just sayin'." he puts his hands up in surrender.

"seriously, you look like you're counting down minutes." satoru says.

that hits closer to the truth than he prefers.

he checks his phone between moving from machine to machine, pretending it's just habit, pretending to change the song he was listening to, pretending he's not waiting on a specific notification.

when his phone finally lights up with your contact, he literally grins. a simple vibration against his hand while he's actually changing the song he's listening to this time.

angel

hi babe!! brunch finished a littleee earlier than we expected it's kind of a drive back to campus, but ur gym sesh should be over by the time we're back i think

he reads it immediately, types back immediately. no overthinking it, he just needed you to text him. badly.

me and the guys will be off in 45 mins or so drive safe okay? can't wait to see u

you react to his message with a heart, and he takes that as an "okay" and doubles as an "i love you."

he and the guys wrap it up not long after that, heavy lifting dissolving into loose stretches and cooldowns.

the locker room smells like deodorant and damp towels, voices echoing off tile as they change, laugh, and tell each other to "shut up" because they can't hear the audio they're using for their instagram story.

they pile back into the car, the sun cutting through the windshield. when the frat house finally comes into view, something settles into his chest. you'll be arriving soon.

practically jumping out of the car first, sukuna's quick to head toward the stairs, because if you're coming back, he automatically feels the need to tidy up.

not over-clean like crazy. he just straightens things, makes his bed, tuck any loose clothes away, and opens the window just a crack. when he's done, he plots himself at the edge of his bed and waits.

it takes twenty-four minutes.

he knows because he checks the time exactly three times. once on his phone, then up at the wall clock he has by his door, and the clock by his bed that has a polaroid of you two wedged in it.

the sound of the front door opening cuts through the house like a spark despite the excess noise.

voices overlap and laughter bubbles up, sounds of everyone greeting you politely. stepping downstairs, he catches sight of you, still in your brunch fit he remembers from the photos.

"welcome back," satoru greets, holding the door for you, suguru and choso bidding a hello with a wave from the kitchen.

"hi, thank you." you return, toeing your shoes off at the door, carefully nudging them to the side neatly. you wave back at the two at the kitchen. "where's ryo?"

toji points towards the stairs, "lookin' at ya."

as expected, sukuna's at the top of the stairs, arms crossed with a neutral expression. you look comfortable, thank goodness, he'd chew his brothers up if they made you anything but. the house doesn't intimidate you.

"i'll be up." you wave at the group in the living and kitchen goodbye before heading upstairs to meet sukuna in the hall. "hi," you greet with a peck to the corner of his mouth.

"hey," he replies, arm slipping around you almost immediately, pressing you to his side to prolong the feeling of your lips on his. he holds you to his side, thumb drawing lazy shapes through your clothing as he guides you down the hall to his room.

he nudges his bedroom door open with his shoulder, tugging you inside with him before kicking it shut with a soft thud, the knob rattling.

"you look really pretty." is the first thing he says, spinning you around in a little twirl to get full view of your brunch fit. "better than the pictures." hands on your hips, he backs you up until the your calves hit the mattress.

hands slide up from your hips to cup your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks before he cranes his neck down to press his lips to yours. soft at first, savoring the plush feeling of your lips along with the sweetness of your lipgloss.

you sigh into it, hands resting on his chest as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt with a light tug, pulling him closer.

sukuna breaks away just enough to speak, not after a few hard pecks, of course. "shame i gotta take it off." he's referring to the dress. he smiles against your mouth before kissing you again.

you laugh between his kisses before returning them, lips hungry, his hands sliding down your body again to grip the flesh of your ass through your ass and squeezing, lifting you slightly to press his growing bulge against your stomach.

"mm, ryo," you whisper sweetly against his mouth, the use of nickname making him groan and his kisses go sloppy. a hand hikes up the hem of your dress until his fingers skim a pair of panties.

his lips trail down to your jaw, down to your neck, until they land on your collarbone where he groans, "turn around real quick," peering up at you, a string of his saliva connecting your skin to his mouth.

letting go of him, you comply by turning around, and his hands are quick to find the back of your dress, tugging the zipper down to the end of your lower back, then back up to tug the sleeves down until the fabric fell to the floor by your feet.

"you smell real good, too..." he presses a hard kiss to your shoulder bared to him now, dragging a little gasp out of your mouth. "just perfect."

once your dress is off, you turn around to face him again, arms going up to wrap around his shoulders, falling back onto his bed and dragging him with you.

kissing down your body now, he stops when he reaches one of the cups of your bra. "haven't seen this one before," he says, taking note of how your undergarments matched.

"it's new." you say matter of factly, offering a little smile as he looked up at you with those eyes of his. "figured i'd put it on since i knew i was gonna see you later on in the day."

"whew," he lets out a low whistle at that. "jus' being an absolute doll for me, aren't you?" he halts his kisses down your body, sitting up on his knees for a moment to tug his shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly to the foot of the bed.

he dips back down to continue his trail down your body, mouth pressing hot kisses to your stomach until he reached your panty line. "legs up for me," he pats the side of your thigh.

"okay," you nod in a breath, lifting your legs and resting them on his broad shoulders, heels against his back.

"cute," he breathes against your thigh, face to face with your clothed pussy now. "same style as the ones i ruined earlier." he nods his head to the hamper not too far from the bed where your panties and bra that he came on earlier are laying right on top.

"ryo..." you jerk slightly at the ticklish feeling of his breath against your skin, turning to where he nodded. lo and behold, your panties, clearly streaked with his cum sitting right on top of the pile.

"i'll get to it baby, don't worry." he reassures. he catches the lace waistband between his teeth, tugging them allll the way down. down your thighs, past your knees, and through your ankles until they were fully off just with his mouth.

"f-fuck," you clasp a hand over your mouth at the sight, watching as he let the fabric drop next to him by spitting them aside.

"that get you hot yet?' he smirks down at you, eyes locked on your now-bare pussy, fully glistening.

"well clearly," your tone comes out impatient, a whine. "stop teasing..." you murmur.

he spreads your thighs wider, caging his head in with a grin present on his face. he chuckles lowly at your whinem then out of nowhere presses a sloppy kiss to your pussy, drawing a whimper from you.

you're quick to muffle it by biting into your hand softly. "shhh," he coaxes softly, looking up at you with his already soaked lips. "the guys'll hear you." then, he flattens his tongue against you, licking a firm stripe up your slit.

"oh my gosh," you cry softly against your palm, head tossed back against the pillow. your free hand flies to his hair, tugging him closer as pleasure crawls up your body.

he's absolutely insane with his mouth, sucking your clit between his lips, tongue swirling in circles before sliding back down to prod your entrance, gathering your slick with his tongue.

"tastes fuckin' divine," he murmurs in approval against your pussy, the vibrations making you buck against his mouth.

one hand slides up to cup one of your tits, pulling the cup down to bare the skin to his hand, palm over your nipple, the other going down to pin your hip.

he laps at you greedily. seriously, being away from you for hardly five hours has got him this messed up? answer is, clearly yes, the way he fucks his tongue in and out of you being telling enough.

"ryomen...oh, fuck!" you moan softly, grabbing one of his pillows by your head and pulling on the case, biting on it to keep quiet.

"that's it, angel. let me hear how much you love my mouth on your pussy." his hand pulls away from your breast, two fingers joining his tongue, curling inside you deliciously.

the insertion of his fingers causes you to moan in what sounds like almost a squeal, and he eats that noise the fuck up. "you gonna cum on my face? squirt on my tongue, huh?" he's knuckle deep inside you, fingers making a scissor motion, straight up playing with your spongey walls .

"harder," you whine sweetly, hips lifting to rut your pussy against his face, tugging him by his hair closer to you.

he smirks at that. you're giving him a big head with your pretty sounds. regardless, he follows, sucking harder, mouth moving gaster, fucking his fingers inside you harder than ever until your thighs quake.

"cum on me pretty—oh—you're good, you're so good," his praises are stuttered when he locks his mouth on you fully right when he knows you're about to cum. of-fucking-course he knows.

"ngh—cumming, i'm gonna cum- ryo...!" you squeal into the edge of the pillow, back bowing off the sheets, and his hand pinning your hip down can't even fight it.

he swallows your release down, all of it, hot, sweet with a slight tang against his tongue. creamy goodness coats his lips, and the obscene sound of him gulping meets your ears while you gush on his face.

like the mad man he is, he leaves his mouth on you, tongue-fucking you through your orgasm 'til you swear you were going to have a second one right then and there.

he doesn't stop until your trembling settles. he pulls his fingers out of you, a filthy schlck echoing after before crawling back up to meet you face to face. "open," he presses one of his fingers to your lips, soaked in your essence.

still panting from your orgasm, you stick your tongue out anyways, tasting yourself on his fingers with a light suck. "fuck, that's hot." he smiles down at you, taking his finger out of your mouth and putting both of them in his.

his hands move down his body to tug his pants and boxers down in one go, the waistbands slipping past his knees. your eyes widen when his cock springs out, lightly tapping the skin right above his belly button, standing thick and tall.

"look at this," he watches your eyes drag down from his eyes to his dick, veined length, flush tip where pre-cum was already leaking out.

he strokes himself a few times, falling back on top of you to kiss you deeply, the taste of your squirt still on his tongue. "look what you do to me, baby." his tongue pushes against yours in your mouth as he ruts his length between your folds. "i need to be inside you, fill you up the way your pretty pussy deserves."

you nod, arms looping around his shoulders, holding him close. sukuna's hands slide down your legs, cupping the back of your knees, holding them up near your chest. "does this hurt?" he looks down at you, eyes half-lidded and heavy.

"no," you whisper against his lips with a light shake of your head, feeling the stretch in your quads as he gently folds you. "need to feel you, ryo, please,"

say no more. the position exposes you completely, his cock nudging your entrance, his spit from earlier mixed with your release acting as lube. "ugh...mmph!" you choke out against his mouth as his tip stretches you.

he basks in the sounds you make from just his tip, soaking it immediately. "'m barely in," he says matter-of-factly. "and i already have you moaning so pretty."

and suddenly, he thrusts in the rest of his length in one smooth, deep push, bottoming out and stretching you completely. "fuck, oh fuck y/n— so tight for me," he groans deeply down your throat, mouths still against each other in attempt to keep each other quiet.

you whimper, biting down on his lip softly as your body writhed whilst adjusting to the stretch. "fuck me," you say breathlessly, and that's his green light to move.

he starts a steady rhythm, slow but at the same time straight up pounding. "fucking perfect for my cock, angel," he says, hips snapping the slightest bit faster, only to slow when his headboard stars banging against the wall slightly.

"you're stretching me... s'good," you somehow manage to speak at this point, eyebrows furrowing with your mouth parted to let moans slip freely.

with your fingernails pressing crescent shaped dents in his back, your eyes trail down your body and his, watching his cock disappear in and out of you.

in, where it disappears completely, so much to the point where your clit is against his skin, balls against your ass, and out to see it covered in your creamy goodness and covered in your juices.

"you like seeing how deep i am, huh?" he can only laugh at that observation, and you can only smile. "watch, then. watch how good i fuck my pretty girl."

just his words on their own make you whine, and louder as his tip bumps your cervix, veins rubbing your walls with each long drag of his cock, over and over again.

"nngh!" you arch off the mattress again, head tossing back as you slowly begin to lose it, losing contact with his lips and instead burying your face in his neck, your nose brushing the tattoo of your initial he has in red ink right on his collarbone.

"i- oh fuck..." he croaks upon feeling you breath heavily against his bare skin. he notices how your legs tremble against his palms still holding them up, looking to the side briefly to see how your toes curl.

"g-gonna cummm...! fuck me, baby, wanna feel you cum inside," you babble words rushed and barely coherent, not to mention how they were muffled with you still buried in his shoulder.

your hands move from his back to his hair, tugging him to you as you crane your neck up to meet his mouth again. "let me feel it—shit, this pussy makes me go crazy every time," he encourages, pressing his mouth to yours.

his thrusts grow faster, sloppier at this point. "make a mess on me, angel, make a...mess...a-ah, fuck!" his words are stuttered, and so do his hips.

with a deep grunt of your name and a loud cry of his from you, his cock twitched inside you before releasing, pouring his load into you in a hard thrust, filling you completely until it starts to leak out around his base.

sukuna collapses forward, chest heaving against yours before rolling the two of you over, hugging you comfortably against his chest, cock still half inside you and twitching.

"you're everything," he murmurs against your temple before pressing a kiss to your head, arms running down your body to rub your thighs in attempts to soothe and soreness.

you barely manage to lift yourself up, hair all in your face with some strands dangling in his face, kissing him as if you still have enough breath to. "i love you," your hips buck slightly at the feeling of him still inside.

"love you," he returns quickly, also being hardly able to kiss you back as he caught his breath.

his eyes go to your sweat-slicked chest, your bra that's half off of you, and your panties at the end of the bed, fabric still glistening with your arousal from earlier. "maybe i should've kept your extras clean."

love letter from riri 💌 thank u sm anon for your request! so sorry for the delay, i fear it took foreverrr for me to get this up :') i had so much fun writing this (still getting the hang of writing smut lolol) and i hope you had just as much fun reading! feedback is much much muchhh appreciated ☺️

hope you enjoyed ᰔ

© ryomensbby est. 2025

[ryomensbby]

"baby, you're the sweetest thing i've known" ₊⊹ ryomen sukuna x reader

notes: modern au, flufffffff, reader bakes, eventual established relationship, group dynamics, implied choyuki, timeskips, extremely super sweet ooc sukuna later on, rushed and not proofread (butttt it's my longest fic by far! had to put my back into it to make up for my absence hehe)

wc: 3k

sukuna had always disliked sweets.

not in a dramatic way, not in the “i’ll spit it out in a napkin if any sugar touches my mouth” kind of sense, but in a very particular, deeply annoying way of someone who simply didn’t see the point of sugar. 

he’d much rather get his sugar through the fruit he incorporated in his meals and the occasional sugary drink, but he wouldn’t willingly pick up a baked good and take a bite out of it. he preferred plain coffee, over-seasoned ramen, cheep beer that burned on the way down. that was real to him.

so when choso texted him ‘try this when u come over’ followed by a photo of a neatly, cutely, wrapped pastry box with a handwritten note on top, he just shut his phone off without a reply. he didn’t even ask what it was, but he could’ve sworn that was powdered sugar on the edges and he was not having that. 

he didn’t even ask what it was.

later that evening, when choso stopped by sukuna’s place to grab a jacket he left there a hangout or two ago, he tossed a small paper bag onto the counter like it meant nothing.

“yuki brought a ton of these over,” choso said, toeing off his shoes at the door. “said her friend made them. she’s testing new recipes; they’re really good.” 

sukuna glanced at the bag on the counter once, unimpressed before turning back to whatever crappy movie was playing on the tv. “why the hell are you leaving them here?” 

“well yuki came by with, like, four boxes. we already downed almost three of them together ‘n i thought i’d share.” choso replied evenly. “and you live closer to campus than the other guys. didn’t feel like making the drive.”

sukuna just half scoffed. “‘m not touching that, thanks.”

“didn’t say you had to.” choso left with his jacket ten minutes later after more small talk and one piece of whatever pastry was in that box. 

sukuna ignored it for a solid hour, stubbornly pushing himself through the movie he’s already lost the plot for, scrolling through his phone, eyes rolling whenever his eyes flicked back to the counter like its contents said something mean to him. 

eventually, the hunger won after his stomach just had to rumble. not the “i’m craving something sweet” kind of rumble, ‘cause when has sukuna ever craved sweets? not since he was a child, probably, and it was in more of a “i just needa eat something before i get pissed” kind of way. 

he pushed himself up from the couch and walked over to the counter, the bag fallen back on the counter with the box open slightly from choso grabbing some earlier. “gonna leave ants in my damn apartment.” he huffed.

he reached for one without looking, peeled the wax paper back, and bit into it. 

he froze a chew or two in.

the texture alone threw him off. not crumby, not soaky soft, and the powdered sugar didn’t drop all over his hands and onto the counter either. actual flavor bloomed instead of sugar beating up his taste buds. a slight bitterness–espresso, he’d recognize as much, or maybe dark chocolate.

was it just because he hadn’t had something so loaded, willingly bit into chocolate in so long? is that why it came off so good? maybe it was just a one-bite-wonder thing. 

and so, he took another bite. and another, until that first piece was gone. so? he grabbed another one from the box. 

when choso came back the next day to retrieve it, just in case sukuna really didn’t eat it, the bag was disposed in the trash, and so was an empty box that used to be filled with sugary goodness.

yuki had been vibrating with excitement the moment you sent her a photo of your counter filled with measured bowls of wet and dry ingredients, and even more when you handed her a small box that same day.

“okay, i’m telling you right now, you have to start selling,” she said, already peeking inside the box, pulling the top up. “you’re being selfish keeping this to yourself. 

you laughed, waving her off. “nottt selfish,” you say in your defense. “i share them with you, you share them with choso. and plus, it’s just practice.” 

she popped one of the little baked treats in her mouth, eyes widening mid-chew. “holy shit.”

you relaxed instantly. “good?” you question with a hopeful smile.

“always good,” yuki confirmed. “i’m stealing some for choso.”

“please do,” you said with a smile. “mixed up my measurements a little bit, so there’s an extra dozen. i’ll box them up for you.” 

you didn’t think anything of it beyond that. baking was your hobby and at the same time how you expressed affection without seeking for anything in return. if people liked your sweet treats, that was enough.

you thought this with zero idea that one of those pastries had ruined a man’s entire worldview, that man being sukuna. 

a week or so later, you met him, still unaware of the fact that he tried your baking before meeting you.

yuki kindly dragged you to a small get-together at choso’s place, claiming you needed “more socialization” in your life outside of classes and flour-covered countertops. you’d agreed on the condition that you could bring something to snack on, and she agreed just as strongly, saying that you could share your baking with everyone in attendance.

sukuna was already there when you arrived, along with choso and the rest of their friends, scowling at gojo and toji as they argued about something stupid. 

he noticed you immediately. 

not because you were loud or flashy, because you were anything but, but also because you walked in alongside yuki with familiar-looking bags in hand, little boxes peeking over the top, holding what he swears is cookies and maybe cake. 

you greeted choso with a wave as yuki passed him for a kiss before she looped her free arm with yours, the other busy helping you carry test-run tiramisu. “this is her,” she said brightly. “the baker who made the little thingies choso made you try.” 

sukuna’s gaze dropped to you, then to the filled bags. you smiled shyly. “hi. i’m–”

“you made the dark chocolate coffee things,” he cut in. 

“yes,” you confirm with a nod as yuki snatched the bags from your hands to lay them out on the open counter. “you tried them?” your eyebrows lifted before it clicked to you that yuki and or choso brought some to him.

“tried?” gojo echoed, “‘kuna here ate ‘em all and asked choso if there were more.” 

“shut the hell up.” sukuna glared.

you blinked once, then laughed, warm and unguarded. “i’m glad you liked them, i’m assuming?” 

liked them wasn’t strong enough. sukuna didn’t say that though. “mhm.” he just nodded like that single sound was enough to cover up everything.

meanwhile in the background, yuki was already in motion, popping lids off containers, tossing empty bags to the side, busy swatting gojo’s hand away from grabbing a piece of anything before everyone else was around.

two neat rows of tiramisu cups, an open box of two kinds of cookies, a few little slices of strawberry and chocolate mousse cake, a container of truffles, and that unnamed pastry, the one that sukuna had tried that seems to be so game changing. 

“okay guys, hands off the tiramisu until she dusts the cocoa powder on. the cookies and everything else are fair game.” 

you hovered a little, hands clasped together behind your back, watching as everyone else cautiously reached out for whatever they pleased. there was always that brief, nerve-wracking pause whenever someone tried something for the first time, the moment between bite and reaction that felt like freefall.

choso took a cookie, split it with yuki to share, and they both sighed upon chewing. “it’s really good,” he said simply. “it’s really good!” yuki repeated, throwing an arm around you. 

toji hummed around two truffles, geto took one of each cookie, and gojo managed with a cookie as well despite itching for one of those tiramisu cups. 

“oh, i get it now,” gojo pointed a fork at you, some of the chocolate mousse smeared on his teeth. “that’s why sukuna’s been weird.” 

sukuna shot him a look. “the fuck does that mean?” 

“nothingggg.” gojo dragged before taking another bite.

you laughed quietly, almost nervous, heat creeping up your neck as you fidgeted with your hands behind you. the sound made sukuna’s jaw tighten in a way that surprised him. 

he reached for the chocolate espresso topped with powdered sugar thingy. he’d rather die in the moment than admit that he should’ve not eaten them so quickly before. he missed them. 

bit into it like it was nothing.

toji’s eyebrows lifted first. “huh.”

geto followed sukuna’s hand with his eyes, then glanced up at him. “i thought you didn’t like sweets?” 

“i don’t,” sukuna replied immediately. 

yuki snorted. “you’re literally eating one right now,” she says, stating the obvious. 

“doesn’t make it sweet.” he shot back. “it’s balanced. that’s what makes it better than everything else.” 

you blinked, looking up. his comment relieved you. “oh,” you said softly, a little pleased. “i try not to overdo the sugar.” 

sukuna swallowed and reached for another cookie without looking at anyone. “see.” is all he says, like your words were in his defense.

“said deserts were a waste of time, no?” toji leaned back against the counter, wiping his lips with his thumb. 

“usually are.” 

“so what changed?” 

he paused at that. his eyes flicked briefly, almost unwillingly, to you, where you stood beside yuki, fingers curling into the hem of your sweater. you pretend not to notice it.

“they’re just different.” he said finally, turning away. that shut everyone up for about five seconds.

yuki beamed as conversation continued, nudging your shoulder. “see?” she half-whispered to you with a smile. “your magic baker girl hands made some hard ass guy cave over sweets.” 

you smiled, smaller this time, as you eyes sukuna from your peripheral curiously. 

the rest of the night unfolded easily after that. people drifted between the living room and kitchen, plates filling and emptying, people pointing out powdered sugar or frosting on each other’s faces, yuki secretly sliding a tiramisu cup or two into choso’s fridge to save for later. 

someone put music on. someone made a joke. someone opened a window when it got a little extra warm. it was good, really good. 

at some point, your realized sukuna had stationed himself at the counter near the desserts like a guard dog. not hovering, just.. present.

“you can have more,” you told him quietly as you passed by, but eventually stopping to stand an even space away form him. he was eyeing the tiramisu cups like he was debating to have one. there were two left. 

“i’ll take that,” of course gojo had to swing by and stab his fork that’s been through maybe another tiramisu before this, leaving one left. 

“you can have it.” sukuna nodded towards the cup, then you you, once gojo was out of earshot of you two. 

“you can,” you wave a hand, offering in a way. “i’m already loaded on sugar from test tasting.” you explain, “so you can have it. you’re staring.” 

“wasn’t staring.” he’s quick to defend. 

“you were.” you’re just as quick. 

“right.” 

you smiled and the last cup towards him anyway. “this recipe isn’t super sweet as last time i tried it. i used more espresso. the sweetest part is the mascarpone, but the unsweetened cocoa and stuff balances it out.” balanced, like he had said earlier.

he took it after a few more seconds of just staring, fingers brushing the edge of the cup, then paused. “you do that normally?” 

“do what?” 

“adjust recipes based on who’s eating them.” he asks because he overheard you and yuki talking earlier about your baking, “last time, before, added less of this, more of that…” came out of your mouth. 

you just shrugged lightly, fingers drumming on the counter. “if i know their preferences. that’s kind of the point.” 

he looked between you and the tiramisu cup for a moment before taking a bite. his expression didn’t change much, but you did catch that little sigh he let out. and also how his shoulders relaxed, just a bit.

“good,” he said. “it’s good.” he says again, like he was afraid you didn’t hear it the first time. “by the way,” he starts. “what are those?” 

he’s referring to the first treat of your he tried. “oh,” you look towards the same direction he’s looking. “fudgy chocolate espresso crinkle cookies,” you reply. 

“those,” he flicks the empty box, but he knows that’s what was in it, the powdered sugar around the edges giving it away. “i like those.”

gojo watched the exchange from the living room, eyes narrowed in delight. “oh this is bad,” he murmured to geto who responded with a laugh. “he is so gone.”

a year later, sukuna found himself sitting in the same kitchen where all the magic happened, surrounded by mixing bowls, your fridge door covered in recipes hung by little magnets, standing behind you with a hand on your hip as you browned butter over the stove. 

the smell was enough to make his stomach turn on itself, rich and warm, curling through your apartment along with the brown sugar and hints of vanilla in the air. you stirred carefully, eyes focused, lip caught between your teeth the way it always does when you’re concentrating.

“don’t burn it,” he murmured in your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple as he stood up straight again. 

“i know,” you said softly, leaning against him. “it has two people watching it. i doubt it’s going to burn.” 

he hummed, chin resting on your head. the kitchen was quiet except for the sound of the stove going and the city outside, and it struck sukuna again, how domestic this all felt.

he would’ve never pictured himself here, not like this. 

you lifted the pan from the heat at just the right moment, butter perfectly amber, and then turned slightly to grin up at him. “see? perfectly browned and didn’t burn.” 

“barely,” he said, but his mouth twitched into a smile nonetheless. “you get distracted easily.”

“distracted by you,” you say, putting the pan down on a cork to cool. 

“well yes.”

you laughed, turning back to the counter as he followed, toying with the bow of your tied apron before coming to rest on the small of your back. when you reached for the sugar, he stopped you with his voice. “not t’much.” 

“i know,” you say. “i know how you like it.” you pour the sugar in a waiting bowl with the rest of your dry ingredient, mixing to combine. “since when did you become the authority on sweetness?” 

“since i started dating a baker.” his words make your chest warm every time he said them so simply like it was obvious. 

you moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, and sukuna followed just close enough to be in the way, occasionally stealing a taste of something or wiping your face whenever flour jumped up from pouring too fast. 

at some point, you leaned against the counter, exhaling. “okay. dough needs to chill.” 

“good,” sukuna said. “come sit.” he pat the counter, now clean and opened up, thanks to his help with washing the dishes. 

you perched on the counter, and he stepped between your knees, settling his hands on your thighs, for a moment, neither of you spoke. he looked at you like he always did when things were quiet. 

“you know,” you said after a beat, “i never thought i’d be doing this. cooking for someone like… all the time.” 

“regretting it yet?” he asked, tone carefully neutral as he rubbed up and down your legs. he can only imagine how sore you must be without taking a seat all this time, especially considering the fact you bake every other day if time allows. 

“not that,” you shook your head immediately. “just–surprised, that’s all. i’m used to baking being an alone thing.” 

“well i’m glad you started sharing it,” he shrug. “would’ve never met you if you hadn’t.” 

“mhm,” you nod. “thank goodness.” 

minutes passed. the dough chilled, and you leaned into each other, words fading into the comfort of your kitchen. then you finally reached for a rolling pin. “come on,” you said, hopping off the counter, “let’s finish these.” 

you rolled the dough into small balls, each one perfect, and handed one to him. “careful,” you warned. “not too much pressure.” 

“i got it,” he said, voice flat, but his smirk betrayed him.” he rolled it carefully, setting aside. “looks acceptable, i think.” he added, eyes flicking to your rolled dough. 

you laugh, shaking your head. “they look perfect.” you lean into him as you rolled and pressed more dough balls side by side. 

“facts,” he said. then, almost in passing, “you know, these smell familiar.” he murmured. “like from a while ago. first time i ever had something you made.” 

“you’re right.” your chest tightened at that. he remembered. “crinkle cookies. fudgy chocolate espresso crinkly cookies. exactly the first pastry you ever tried from me.” 

“knew it,” his lips pressed into a victorious smile over being correct. the smell was unmistakable, after all. “i’ve been waiting for a reason to have them again. haven’t had them in months.” 

you dusted sugar over the raw cookies, pulling the oven open. “you don’t need a reason, ‘kuna. i’ll make them for you any day you ask.” 

he grins at that. “good to know.” 

the cookies finish baking and he took one from the tray despite they weren’t done cooling all the way yet. he bit into it slowly, savoring the rich chocolate and the subtle coffee, the powdered sugar, still never messy. 

“still perfect.” he murmured, offering the rest of the cookie to you. 

you smiled up at him, opening your mouth as you took the cookie. “only ‘cause i remembered how you like them.” 

and among the many recipes stuck to your fridge, a pink note labeled “sukuna’s” with a heart followed by the exact recipe you two just used, proved just that much.

love letter from riri 💌 MY BLOGGG HOW I'VE MISSED YOU!!! soooo many posts have been pushed back because i turned into a couch potato the moment i came home from college for break lol 🥹 i plan on publishing those over my break because i'm off for a whole month so WOOOOOO!! so take this as an early xmas present and a reward for my girlies who made it through finals week! super mega proud of you all 💕💕💕

title is based off the tyler, the creator song "sweet / thought you wanted to dance" 😲

hope you enjoyed ᰔ

© ryomensbby est. 2025

[ryomensbby]

what is psychology even about? ₊⊹ ryomen sukuna x reader

notes: modern au, uni au, fluff, softkuna, kinda crack i think, chaotic, light and funny, sukuna swears a lot, reader is a psych major, rushed & not proofread

short one!

wc: 930

sukuna has faced assholes, rude people at the grocery store, pissy ta’s, dudes who ogled you one time or another, and annoying classmates, so he’s convinced he can handle anything. 

until you came up to him before finals week, saying something about “a practice test, help with review, textbook, model,” say no more. you’re his girlfriend, duh, he’ll help you study. sitting on your bedroom floor, staring at your open laptop, he realizes that there is, in fact, one thing that he cannot handle.

your psychology homework. 

the study guide glares back at him like it’s personally offended. rows of highlighted text, paragraphs that say “cognitive” at least sixteen times in every other row, charts about behavioral conditioning. a diagram of the brain that looks like a “fucked-up fruit,” according to him. 

you’re sprawled on your on the bed above him, kicking your feet as you flip through your notes, pencil stuck behind your ear like the way they do in cute movies. so casual about this. like everything about this is relaxing.

he stares at you. your open notebook, the open doc on your laptop screen that has a number of pages that shouldn’t even be allowed, then back at you. 

“the hell is this?” he says that like it’s a demand, pointing at the screen before reaching out to scroll down on the doc. he says it like it repulses him. 

your eyes are still trained on your notebook laid out in front of you, not bothering to look up, but a smile appears on your face just from his tone. “my cognitive resea–”

“no.” he says. simply, “no.”

you look up this time, blinking. “no what?” 

“no,” he repeats, jabbing his thumb towards the screen. “i’m not doing that. i know i said i’d help you, babe, but i’m not scrolling any futher.” 

“‘kuna,” you sigh, “it’s literally just a practice test. pleeeaseeee?” you drag. 

sukuna just raises an eyebrow. “practice test for what exactly? this shit looks like a government experiment. cult shit.” he damn near shivers when he scrolls back up, landing right on a diagram that’d take a good hour for him to understand at all. 

you roll your eyes and shove the laptop a little closer to him with a gesture for him to scoot closer. “come on, read a question to me. just a few, please?” you plead again. 

he groans, dragging a hand over his face. you watch it happen–his shoulders droop, his lips pursing together, his entire terrifying persona washing away under the heat of your soft, pleading voice. “fine. just one.” he agrees. 

you beam as he mutters, “shit is so freaky,” but grabs the laptop and rests it on his crossed legs anyway. 

he reads the first question in preparation to read it out loud for you to answer. and immediately stops before he can get the first two words out. 

“what is… what the hell is a ‘cortical homunculus’?”

you shove your notebook aside, perking up excitedly. “oh! that one’s fun.” 

“nothing with a name like that sounds any fun,” he counters. “sounds like a demon theory. or a diagnosis, whatever, i don’t know.” 

“it’s neither,” you say matter-of-factly, leaning in closer. “it’s just a representation of how the brain perceives your body.” you explain.

he stares, eyebrow raised.

you grin. 

“wanna see a picture?” 

“fuck no, baby.”

“gimme.” you make grabby hands towards your laptop, and he hands you it. big, big mistake, sukuna. 

you turn your laptop around and show him the cortical homunculus. 

that horrifying little man, stretch limbs, gigantic mouth. the nightmare hands and blunging eyes. 

“WHAT THE FUCK.” 

you’re laughing, needing to set your laptop down before you drop it. you bury your face in your hands, rolling over in your bed as one of your arms wrapped around your stomach, clutching it as it began to ache from laughing. 

“it’s how the brain perceives the body!” you manage between hearty giggles. 

“my brain does not perceive anything like that!” he sits up straighter, pointing wildly at the picture, the same way people do in psychological horrors when they see something scary. 

he’s genuinely disturbed, like the little guy insulted his entire bloodline. “turn it off,” he waves his hand at you and your still-open laptop. why the hell is it still open? 

“it’s not a video–” you’re still cheesing at his reaction. 

“don’t care, turn it off.” 

you click off the tab, bringing the pads of your thumb to your eyes to pat away little tears that dared to spill from your eyes from how much you were laughing. 

“kindly never show me that ever again?” while it sounds like a demand, it sounds like he’s trying to seal a promise. you giggle again at that, soft, unbelievably fond. 

“yeah, yeah.” you pat his head lovingly. “you’re so dramatic.”

eventually, he ends up with his head in your lap, staring up at you upside down, hair falling into his eyes, he’s obviously avoiding looking at your laptop, like he doesn’t trust that you won’t bring that image back up. 

“does your professor put that sorry-ass image on the big screen?” he asks out of nowhere. “the homun… whatever.” 

“yeah,” you confirm. “it’s been projected, like, every lecture since the unit started.” 

he huffs, “so remind me to only wait for you outside your classes and to never go inside. i don’t need to see that thing in all it’s glory.” 

“you don’t need to,” you smile. “it’s right here.” you tap his forehead, meaning his brain. 

“DON’T say that.” 

sukuna hates psychology. 

love letter from riri 💌 in case you noticed my sudden break in streak with posting, school is clearly eating me tf up right now :( anyway quick little silly oneshot for today! i love psych!!!

hope you enjoyed ᰔ

© ryomensbby est. 2025

[ryomensbby]

sorority panties ₊⊹ ryomen sukuna x reader

notes: 18+ modern uni au, established relationship, frat bf sukuna & sorority gf reader, smut, brief mentions of sex, masturbation (m), jerking it to reader's face and texts, finishing on reader's panties, lots and lots and lots of panty and bra talk, sukuna says "fuck" and "shit" a lot

continued here!

my first time writing smut kinda nervyyy!!

wc: 1.8k

it's way too early to be up on a saturday, but it's hard to sleep in when there's so much noise right outside of sukuna's room. footsteps, choso and naoya arguing about a missing vape, dishes clattering in the kitchen, doors opening and closing. the usual chaos of frat life.

sukuna scrubs a hand over his face, messy pink strands falling over his forehead. he should get up. hop in the shower. he and the rest of the guys planned a morning gym sesh.

but he's reluctant to get up. his bed is warm, warm because you were in it not too many hours ago.

he glances at the other side of his mattress, sheets slightly messy with the blanket bunched up on your side. you woke him up a little before dawn, kissing him awake before slipping away to make it to your sorority's brunch meeting.

your scent lingers on the second pillow next to his, all soft, so sweet, and so maddening since you're not actually there.

"great," he mutters, pushing himself up and out of bed. he's already down bad and his day has barely started.

dragging himself to his dresser, he pulls open the drawer in search for gym wear, sifting through the lazily folded shirts, which he actually tries to keep neat because he doesn't want to disappoint you by being unorganized.

he tosses a shirt onto his bed behind him, still half-asleep as he begins to look for a pair of sweatpants and boxers now. then his hand stops.

because buried between half folded sweatpants and boxers he tossed in from the last laundry day was something that was actually folded nicely. something that he actually carefully folded and tucked into his drawer.

your baby pink underwear with lace trim. beside it? your matching bra.

it should be funny. it should at least be expected. you two are prepared: you leave clothing at each other's places in case you two get carried away. the night ends in sex and there's clean pairs of clothes to change into, as simple as that.

expected, considering last night ended with you under him, thighs wrapped around his hips, all your clothing left in a trail on the floor by his bed that neither of you bothered to pick up before falling asleep in each other's arms.

but seeing the pair now, soft and delicate among his plain clothing, sends something straight to his cock. something so hot from something as simple as your panties and bra, he didn't even know he had that feeling in him.

the more he looks at them, the worst it gets.

pinching the fabric between his fingers, he lifts them out of the drawer, lace dangling from his knuckles. he remembers you wearing a similar pair, just different color, last night.

he remembers just how far down your legs he slid them down. goodness, he'd barely gotten them off before he was kissing you everywhere his mouth could reach.

he picks up your bra in his other hand, thumbing the straps, the insides of the cups that get to hold your tits all day long. "tch," he scoffs. someone's jealous.

he remembers how skillfully he unclasped your bra while you were wrapped around him, lips locked onto each other's. how he tugged the straps down your arms, revealing your boobs to his eyes, hands going up to touch them immediately.

"fuckkk," he groans quietly, squeezing the two pieces in his hands, biting the inside of his cheek.

he's supposed to be picking out an outfit to change into after a shower. now he's just standing in front of his dresser, thinking about you sprawled across the sheets.

big, bad frat boy sukuna is so gone for you it's embarrassing.

he clicks his tongue when gojo, toji, or somebody bangs on his door, yelling something about breakfast, but he ignores it. just walks back to his bed, still holding your undergarments, and plopping down.

his phone buzzes on his nightstand. a text from you.

angel

made it to brunch 🩷 yuki took photos for me for u!!! [8 attachments]

he swallows.

he's totally forgotten about going to the gym now, about being on time, everything else. instead, he gets back in bed, leaning against the headboard. he's still holding your panties and the bra is laying across his thigh.

he taps his screen with a thumb, opening the photos one by one. his thumb slides up the screen to react with a heart for every single one.

you're sitting at the table with your big and your littles, sunlight hitting your cheekbones, your lipgloss catching the morning light. your outfit is perfectly you, the colors bringing out your features perfectly.

one photo, you sipping a drink with your eyes closed, smiling. candid, probably.

another, your legs crossed, chin in the palm of your hand as you looked away from the camera all sweet and pretty.

one of you making a kissy-face, one with your tongue stuck out in a silly manner, full body ones showing your outfit, probably. scrolling through all of the photos once more, he grips your panties tighter.

he types a reply with just his thumb.

what a pretty face ur gorgeous can't believe i have u

you're quick to reply by reacting to each of his messages with hearts.

angel

thank uu baby have you and the guys left for the gym yet?

ugh, he can almost hear you saying that. "baby," in that tone that he can't help but smile at, and with that smile that carried all the way up to your eyes.

nope. too early just got up anyway woke up thinking about you

he doesn't mention anything about the whole panty thing, though. about how he's rock hard for you at 8 in the morning from it, from your texts, from your face in those cute photos.

his thumb hovers over the screen, words stuck in his throat and in the tips of his fingers. he wants to send you a photo, let you know exactly what you're doing to him, hard in his pajama pants, but for the sake of keeping you sane while out with your house sisters, he won't do anything. not yet, at least.

instead of his dick, he snaps a photo of his hand tangled in the soft fabric and lace, his palm swallowing them up, making sure your bra draped over his leg is visible in the background.

fuck it.

"fuck me," he drops his phone down onto his bed, screen still open to your messages together, open to the photo where both your face and body are visible. that's enough for him.

with his free hand he once held his phone with, he slipped two fingers under the waistband of his pajama pants and boxers at once, pulling them an okay enough amount down his thighs for his cock to spring out with a little slap! against his abdomen.

pants and boxers pushed to his knees, he wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock, grip as tight as he remembers your pussy being. he stroked, once, twice, and precum beaded out just from that, making the glide slick.

the friction was nowhere near enough for him, not without you moaning so prettily into his ear while he pushed inside you, kiss-swollen lips nipping at his when you couldn't say anything more.

sukuna huffed out a breath as he squeezed himself harder, thumbing his tip as he looked down at his phone with half-lidded eyes, down at the photo of you displayed on his screen.

full screen, brightness up, zoomed into your torso where he got that perfect view of your pretty tits sitting so nicely in that top and your even prettier face all at once.

"aww, shitttt, angel," he bites his tongue, teeth leaving tiny indents. he brings your panties to his length, wrapping where your pussy lips would sit on the fabric right around him and continued to stroke himself just like that.

he brings the bra up to his face, one of the cups against his nose, using it as a muffler of some sort as he moaned your name. "doesn't compare to the real thing," his words come out in short pants, huffing your name in between.

letting out a strangled groan, he tipped his head back as the lace dragged along the underside of his cock, the muscles in his thighs tensing every time the buttery fabric touched his tip.

his phone buzzed again, your contact name and a few texts displaying on the banner, replying to his earlier texts.

angel

heyyy i just opened that in public :( let me know when you're back from the gym okay? i'll be right over ☺️

ugh, the way he reads your texts in your honeyed voice only makes his balls tense more. the dirty little thrill of jerking off with your panties had his abs tight, edging himself.

one hand continued the tight rhythm he had built, the other pressing your bra against his face, nose buried in the cup. he hates that he basically left you on read just now, but oh he's way too in deep to reply right now.

he was already close, eyes squeezing shut every time the soft lace brushed his slit. your bra in his face, panties on his cock, photos of you open on his phone, the sounds you made last night as he snapped his hips against yours—shit, it should’ve been illegal to sound that good. to let him see your face when you came, to know it was for him and only him, in that perfect, private way.

"fuckfuckfuck... y/n, oh baby," he let out two deep grunts, rutting his hips into his fist as his ears remembered the sound of you all over again. "g'na cum in your panties, 'm so fucking dirty for you, ssshit!"

warmth uncoiled along his spine, shooting a hot, messy stripe along the pale garment in his hands, the pasty white darkening the fabric immediately, some of it hitting his stomach.

he didn't even think—just kept pumping himself until he was empty, gasping against your bra that had slid down his face at this point.

your panties were a disaster, his thighs were sticky, his bed hair sticking to his temples from the light sweat he let out from stroking so frantically.

his phone pinged. low battery alert this time. whatever. he thumbed the edge of your panties, right over where his load dripped down them, already feeling a twinge of guilt for messing them up, but mostly satisfied. extremely satisfied.

he contemplated on sending you a picture, then came a banging knock on his door from outside. "sukuna!" his mind was too hazy to tell if it was surugu, or satoru, or toji, or anyone. "we're leaving in 10 minutes bro, what's taking you so long?"

a second voice followed, "yeah, touching yourself to your girl, or something?" that was definitely satoru.

"i am," he replies all gruff and hot. knowing his brothers, they'll probably take it just as something to get them to back away from his door and leave him alone.

they don't need to know he meant literally.

love letter from riri 💌 lateeee post because i actually studied today 💔 alsoooo lmk what you think about the smut!!! i felt super iffy about it at first and then i started getting the hang of it towards the end. lmk if you think there's anything i could fix, and feedback is much appreciated!

hope you enjoyed ᰔ

© ryomensbby est. 2025

[ryomensbby]

just to keep you warm ₊⊹ satoru gojo x reader

notes: school au, fluffflufffluff, established relationship, rushed bc i thought of this in class and i couldn't let the idea slip, not proofread

wc: 1.1k

the cold settles into the school courtyard. slow, creeping, unavoidable. december has a way of making everything sharper. every breath someone lets out, pale clouds escape. the wind literally whistles through trees. wind cold is much harsher than snow cold, so imagine both of them at once.

 every student who didn’t layer up this morning is currently regretting their existence, you included. 

your fingers are stiff around the straps of your bag, your knuckles feeling like they’ve frozen over at this point. you try to hurry across the courtyard without drawing attention to your shivering self. unfortunately, that plan would never work, not when satoru’s around. 

that boyfriend of yours spots you from across the yard, and you spt him just as fast, that white hair of his impossible to miss. even from a distance, you can hear his delighted shout of your name, cutting through the sound of wind blowing past your ears. 

satoru jogs over to you with an energy only someone like him would have in the morning, and in such weather that makes everything miserable. “there’s my girl,” he says, sliding up beside you with a grin so bright. “looking like an icicle.” 

“hi,” you greet through chittering teeth, barely managing a smile, mostly because your face is too numb for anything else. “not an icicle.” 

he tilts his head, watching as your breath fogs into the air, the slight tremor in your shoulders, how your teeth are chittering slightly. “hey,” he speaks up softly, nudging your arm. “how many layers do you have on?” 

“a longsleeve,” you reply, arms closing around yourself, rubbing your arms as if it’s going to help anything in this chill. “and this.” you say, looking down at yourself, referring to your crewneck. 

he raises a brow, letting out a dramatic gasp, but it’s not a joking one. “babe!” he says like your lack of layers offends him, which it doesn’t exactly, it just concerns him. “not even a hoodie? nowhere to stuff your hands in!” 

“i’ll manage,” you reply, automatic, even though your words have damn vibrato at his point from how much you’re shivering. 

he raises a brow, unimpressed. “you liar,” he pokes at your cheek. “even your face is freezing up.” he points out. he doesn’t let you protest, just shrugs off his own layers, his hoodie and his jacket, and stuffs it into your arms.

you stare down at the little pile in your hands, stunned. “hey, no. you need to stay warm t–”

he doesn’t let you protest, again. he takes both from you, pulling the hoodie over your head, gently guiding your arms through it, then fixing your hair once your head is through the top as it got messed up in the process. 

“there,” he says, smiling proudly. “perfect.” he’s still holding his other jacket, the one without a hoodie. 

“you didn’t have to,” 

“i absolutely did.” he says so like it’s a law. just when you thought that’d it be enough, he swings his jacket behind you, over your shoulders and just holds it there like he’s waiting for you to put your arms through it. 

he almost snickers at how your eyes widen in, what looks like, horror. “satoru, stop,” you wave your hands frantically before placing them over his where he’s holding his jacket against you like you’re trying to pry his hands off for him to keep it. 

“there,” he declares. “now you’re warm.” 

“um, well, you’re not!” you insist, flustered. “you’re literally wearing just a sweater right now, and it’s freezing. take your jacket back at least, you can’t–”

of course, he interrupts you by looping his damn scarf around your neck. you just stare at him like he’s lost his mind. he probably has.

the scarf is soft, thick, still warm from his body heat just like all the other layers. he wraps it twice, tucking the stray end into the inside of the hoodie so that it doesn’t slip. his fingers linger at your jaw for a moment, palms warm against your chilled skin. 

“i’ll live,” he says with a smile. “rather keep you warm than me.” 

“satoru…” you groan in a whisper, overwhelmed. “you can’t just give me all your stuff, you’ll freeze.” 

“ah, ah,” he shakes his head ‘no,’ “it’s fine, i promise. i like how you look in my clothes, anyway.”

your face warms up for the first time this morning just from that. “stop saying things like that.” you say, reluctantly slipping your hands into the pockets of his hoodie. 

“never.” he replies, smug. students passing by stare openly, because, of course, satoru giving someone practically all of his layers is equivalent to a love confession screamed from the rooftop. some giggle, some let out little admiring “aw’s.”

the attention causes you to shrink, but satoru just slides an arm around your bundled-up form, pulling you to his side like he’s daring people to say something.

“walk with me?” 

“well, yeah,” you huff out. “you’re freezing, ‘m not just gonna walk away all warm without you.” 

“i’ll just steal your warmth,” he says, nudging your side with his hip. “that’s what boyfriends are for.” 

you roll your eyes as you two begin to walk across the courtyard, icy wind not meeting your cheeks anymore since his scarf was tugged up to your nose. you’re wrapped in layers of him. his fabric, his scent, his warmth in every thread you wore. 

he keeps you tucked against his side the whole time, arms slung around your shoulders, “stealing your warmth” just like he said, until you take his hand in yours and shove it in his hoodie pocket with yours. 

his palms are freezing now. he ignores it. 

by lunchtime, he’s wearing an extra layer because you had been fussing over him all morning. suguru smiled and nobara giggled as you pressed satoru’s second jacket and scarf to his chest, insisting that his hoodie did the job, only for him to toss the fabric back in your lap. but, he gave in eventually. 

“better wear layers tomorrow,” he says, watching as you rush to zip up his jacket. he catches your hands in between their hurried movements, holding both of them in his, rubbing softly to warm the both of you up. “unless you want me to do this again.” give you all his layers, he means.

“i am not letting you do this again.” you say like you’re sure, tucking his scarf in the same way he did to you earlier.

love letter from riri 💌 wrote this because the weather where i live decides to be mean af and i'm convinced the temp on campus is below freezing 🥲 gojo pls give me ur layers

i've also been posting every day since i figured out how to use tumblr like UGHHHH i love this app??? it's literally been post after post every day after class akakakaka i loveeee it here 😛

happy december!

hope you enjoyed ᰔ

© ryomensbby est. 2025

[ryomensbby]

Stumbled upon your blog just now and I am in LOVE with your writing style (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ specifically the Sukuna mole one cause that hit SO CLOSE TO HOME

Is it just Sukuna you’ll keep the college like au for or are you gonna do more jjk/other fandoms?

Again love your work!! Have a great day/night (˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵)

hii thank u so much! so glad to hear that you liked it; moles are such a beautiful feature!

i do plan on writing for other fandoms, a few of them being aot, haikyuu, demon slayer, more jjk obvs! definitely more to come soon, sukuna's just the one i started with 😆 i'd love to hear what other characters and other animes you'd like to see!

hope the rest of your day/night is wonderful as well ᢉ𐭩

[ryomensbby]

burnt out baby ₊⊹ ryomen sukuna x reader

notes: modern au, reader is #employed (yess girl!), sweetheart sukuna bc i can't stop writing fluff w him, reader is burnt out, rushed & not proofread

wc: 1.3k

the café was quieter than usual, less busy, and that's something you're grateful for. still, your shift dragged like lazy feet on the ground, eyes dragging up from your tasks to the wall clock, counting down the minutes until you're off.

the faint scent of espresso and caramel your coworker burnt filled the air, nice but just another reminder that you're not getting off work anytime soon.

it's your second time wiping down a table just to keep your hands busy. if you stopped moving, you'd fall asleep. simple as that.

your phone buzzed in your apron pocket. once, twice, three times, four. when it came to you, sukuna never texted once. he's a spam texter when it comes to you, his girlfriend.

you slipped your phone out while pretending to clean up the display case for pastries. six messsages lit up the screen.

pressing on his contact, you opened his texts to read:

ryo ‹𝟹

went to your place earlier n u weren't there working late again? did u eat answer me when u get ur break lmk when u get off im coming over

you exhaled through your nose, dropping the rag you were using to clean and typed back a quick message:

yeah im at work :( almost done tho please dont come here lol

he read your message instantly, and three dots appeared just as fast ryo ‹𝟹

u say that as if im gonna listen

you huff out a laugh despite how heavy your eyes felt. an absolute menace, isn't he? a very persistent one, if persistence counts as you accepting it from one try.

finally, ten minutes past closing, your manager finally released you. all your coworkers began to pour out the break room, emptying slowly, just as over it as you are.

you hung your coat and grabbed your backpack before stepping outside into the cool night air. adjusting your bag on your shoulder, preparing for the walk home—and nearly screamed when someone stepped out from beside the door.

with your heart already jumped halfway up your throat, your brain had hardly caught up. sukuna came, just like he said, leaning against the window like he'd spawned there out of frustration alone.

looking like straight trouble, but at the same time very, very annoyed. and dare you say worried?

"i told you not to come," you groaned, placing a hand over your heart to ease yourself from your shock of him actually coming to your workplace.

"well i ignored you," he shrugged, pushing off the wall. "because you also ignored me."

"i was working," you say in your defense, the two of you falling in step next to each other.

he reaches out to tug your bag off your shoulder, silently telling you to let him carry it. you do. "you're always working." he finally replies. not harshly. just truthfully.

"um," you say to fill your reply. you don't really know how to. because he was right. "it's been a busy week."

"you always say that." again, not harsh. he's just spitting the truth.

he didn't raise his voice. goodness no, sukuna would never. not at you. but that fact is the part that got you. he sounded tired, if anything. tired of watching you drain yourself, tired of you pretending you were perfectly fine with balancing a job you work five days a week on top of school.

"you look like you're about to tip over," he muttered. again, he was correct. you really would've if he hadn't taken the weight of your bag off, which he does regardless.

"i'm fine."

"sure, you are." he replied, fixing your bag on his shoulder. damn, the weight was straining him, even with muscles like his. he wonders how you do it.

at this point, you were already too exhausted to volley with him. he walked beside you anyway, matching your slow pace, not daring to tell you to hurry or walking ahead.

by the time you two reached your place, thankfully not too far away from your workplace or campus, your legs felt watery. he unlocked the door for you behind him.

he dropped to one knee immediately to unlace your shoes as soon as he saw you about to lean down to do so.

"thank you," you murmur sleepily, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands.

"'course, baby." he began to follow you to your room, slapping your light switch to turn it on. as the light opened up more of your room to sukuna's eyes, he froze.

your syllabi were spread out across the surface of your desk, a few at the foot of your bed. two open notebooks with sticky notes stacked on top of each other, highlighters scattered. your planner, color-coded and absolutely overwhelming, wide open with checkboxes unchecked. two empty energy cans stacked beside your laptop.

and your bed? don't even start. your blanket, pushed back in place for a textbook like you were making space for your study material rather than your sleep. another open notebook filled with notes on your pillow. your studies took up the place where you were supposed to sleep.

the sight of the chaos felt like a slap to the face. he finally turned to you, jaw tense so tight you saw the muscle jump. "you weren't kidding," he spoke quietly. "this is bad."

you couldn't help but just swallow nervously. "midterm season?" you sigh a poor excuse.

"it's not even just during 'midterm season,'" he stepped closer to you. "you're like this, like, every season. every damn day lately."

"i'm kinda falling behind," you whispered. "i have to keep up."

he damn near frowned. reaching out, he rubbed his thumbs under your tired eyes, dulled slightly from dark circles. "can't keep up if you're working yourself 'til you drop."

your chest tightened. he looked angry, but not at you. maybe at everything else. your workload, how your job is magically short staffed everytime you're busy, that stupidly hard major you're fighting so hard to stay afloat.

"don't worry about failing," it's like he reads your mind. "'cause you're not. not while i'm here, at least."

another heavy sigh draws from your lips. "you can't fix my classes, ryo." your lips form a little pout as your murmur, eyes drooping the longer he held your face in his hands.

"no," he agreed. "but i'm gonna help you survive them. keep you standing."

you just stare up at him, breathing shakily through half lidded eyes that are somehow managing to stay open. his thumbs rubbed over your cheekbones, under your eyes again, so gently like you were gonna crumble if he pushed too hard.

"you don't have to do this all alone," he said. "i'm your boyfriend. i'm literally built to help carry all your shit."

that allowed a weak laugh to escape you, like everything was becoming lighter the more he eased you, which is exactly what's happening. "'m not gonna let you burn out even more."

he wasn't trying to be controlling, you knew that. you stared at him, all the worry in his eyes. he just cared so deeply. quietly, but it was so obviously there.

the weight of the last few weeks seem to hit you all at once. "i don't know how to do this," you whispered, blinking once to fight tears from dropping out of stress. "how to keep up with everything?"

sukuna just nods. "that's fine," he murmured, tucking hair behind your ear. "because i do."

"ryooo..." you drag, your pout deepening, but somehow managing a smile between.

"go take a shower," he said softly. "i'll order food and organize your desk while you are. i'll clear up your bed. then you'll eat, and then you're sleeping."

you laughed. "so bossy."

"i'm right," he replied without shame. "go." he nodded towards your bathroom. he was so sure about all of this, and that made your chest loosen for the first time in weeks.

"stay the night?" you ask softly.

he scoffs out a laugh like the answer is obvious. the muscles in face, tesne earlier from worry, begin to soften up, warm and unguarded.

"hell yeah i am," he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. "i gotta take my spot on your bed back after your damn notebooks took it up."

love letter from riri 💌 for all my girlies working their ass off in school and work ‹𝟹 you got this, i'll be rooting for you!!!

hope you enjoyed ᰔ

© ryomensbby est. 2025

[ryomensbby]

⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪ ˖ masterlist ʚɞ updated jan. 21 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ࿐ all posts will be under my tag #ryomensbby⊹ ࣪ ˖ and #riri's mlist ʚଓ !!

all works containing smut will be italicized. content warnings are also in the beginning of every post, so make sure to look over that as well!

attack on titan ── .✦ currently empty! demon slayer ── .✦ currently empty!

haikyuu ── .✦ currently empty!

jujutsu kaisen ── .✦ ryomen sukuna ؛ ଓ he loves your moles┊burnt out baby ┊ sorority panties ┊sorority panties continued ┊what is psychology even about? ┊"baby, you're sweetest thing i've known" ┊fixer upper ┊distance makes the heart grow fonder

satoru gojo ؛ ଓ just to keep you warm ┊

© ryomensbby est. 2025

[ryomensbby]

he loves your moles ₊⊹ ryomen sukuna x reader

notes: modern au, mostly fluff, brief mention of sex (oral & piv), extremely super sweet and extremely ooc sukuna, reader has moles in random places i thought of, rushed & not proofread

wc: 1k

sukuna was never an easy man to read. he wasn't easy to approach, and definitely wasn't deemed as the easiest person to date. and yet, somehow, you slipped in.

before you knew it, sukuna, campus menace, was your boyfriend.

you knew from the very start that he wasn't the cliché type, wasn't the extremely annoying and clingy kind of boyfriend; he thought that was icky. but, if not that, he was extremely attentive.

"not the type to care about little things," is the kind of mindset he's usually in, rolling his eyes or pretending he didn't hear what someone said. but when it came to you?

he notices everything.

the different ways you fidgeted depending on if you were cold, nervous, or both. the way you pause before opening up to him more considering being in a fairly new relationship. the variations in your laugh, everything.

upon the rest of your features he noticed, and obviously finds beautiful, he noticed your moles.

he didn't say it aloud when he first noticed. just took note of the few scattered across your face and that was that.

after that, he kept noticing them. whenever you spoke, he always found his eyes drawing to those little dots on your skin, flicking between them, your lips, and your eyes all at once.

holding hands? he had brought your hand up to his lips for a kiss once, and there he spotted more. sides of your fingers and the back of your hand.

the one time you tilted your head in a conversation with your friends, he caught a mole he hadn't yet spotten on your neck, just under your ear.

and again, when you wore a tank top in front of him for the first time. mole on your collarbone, shoulders. your forearms and one on your elbow, if he wasn't mistaken.

well by now, he's sure he's got all the moles on your upper half down, and you bet he's going to know where you have moles waist down, too.

when you two had sex for the first time, a good chunk of his mind couldn't help but think about where else you have moles. not out of distraction from being intimate with you, it was pure admiration.

as his head dipped between your legs that night, after getting the green light from you, he'd be a liar if he said his eyes didn't dart across your thighs in search for more of those star-like spots on your body.

sure enough, he found a couple. again, when he pressed inside you from behind and got full, front row view of your bare back. he couldn't help but reach out and draw a line with his fingers as if connecting the few moles scattered along your soft skin.

"love these," you heard him grunt softly as he thrusted into you, and you knew right then exactly what he was talking about.

they were pretty.

you were pretty.

sukuna, someone who never said any sappy shit like that out loud... began to say sappy shit like that out loud.

you two are lazing around at his place, in his bathroom together, wearing another one of his shirts that swallowed you so much that the sleeve began to slip down your shoulder.

sukuna right next to you, hair damp as he was fresh out from a shower, towel around his neck, watching you finish your skincare routine.

the night was normal, nothing but, though he was staring again, and longer than usual. you caught him staring from the corner of your eye. "what?" you asked as you rubbed moisturizer into your cheek, along with that cute tilt of your head that keeps him going.

he didn't answer at first. instead, he just kept staring. maybe he didn't hear you? you're not sure. and then he spoke:

"d'you have any idea how much i love those?" he gestured to you vaguely. not any part of you in particular, just a wave of his hand. "your moles." he clarifies.

he lifts a finger to your face, barely brushing just one of the few dotted over your skin. you blink, slightly thrown off. other than that little murmur during sex, he hadn't said much about them.

"something special about them?" your face posed genuine question, and it just tells him that he clearly hasn't showed his obsession with your moles enough

his brows stitch together like you asked him the dumbest question on earth and with the most obvious answer. "they're pretty," he says bluntly.

"'kuna, they're just moles—"

he's quick to protest. "no," he cuts in, "they're yours, so i like them."

that makes your heart flutter a stupid amount at the simplicity of it. "you've never mentioned them before." your breath lightly hitches as his finger begins to trail down your face.

he shrugs. "i know. doesn't mean i didn't notice." his eyes have yet to leave your face, and they don't. "you have, like..." his gaze flicks to the few littered on your collarbone and the one on your neck. "those things in the sky?"

"stars?" you ask.

"i guess? but the whole patterned ones." he hums quietly in thought. "constellations, i meant."

like on cue, your ears start to heat up at his words. you look away with a light flush on your cheeks, but he gently tilts your chin back towards him with two fingers. "don't hide from me, i'm complimenting you."

"'m not hiding," you mumble, a pouty smile on your lips.

"gonna kiss all of 'em." he mutters like he's already decided.

"sukuna—" you stutter a laugh.

too late.

his head drops to your exposed shoulder, lips warm as he presses a soft kiss to each mole he finds. one after the other, back up to your face and down your neck again like he was on a mission to do so.

"h-hey," you squirm a bit, as his hands start going up your back, and also laughing at the ticklish feeling of his light kisses. the sound gets him to laugh warmly against your collarbone, a sound saved just for you.

"mm, gotta get this off." he tugs at your, aka his, shirt. "needa kiss the ones on your back, too."

love letter from riri 💌 this came out wayyy longer than i intended lolol. i literally only planned to write the whole bathroom scene with a watered down ver. of the "baskstory" part, but i fear i get carried away when it comes to sukuna 😫 also first “actual” post here on tumblr 🥳🥳 woohoo!!!

hope you enjoyed ᰔ

© ryomensbby est. 2025

[ryomensbby]

general

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© ryomensbby est. 2025