୨୧ — You were drooling, eyes rolling back as you dug your nails into his shoulders trying to slow Valko down. Useless. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back as he drove into you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer between desperate pants.
“V-Val- hhahh- Val-ko- s'too- m'gonna- too m-much-“
Words? What were those? Your brain had turned to mush about three orgasms ago.
A whimper caught in your throat. Tears pricked at your lashes at the stretch, at being so fucking full, like he'd shoved your organs aside to make room.
“Hah-“ His voice broke, and you could feel every muscle in his body trembling, fighting something feral as his tail lashed wildly behind him. “Tryna be gentle but you-“
He fucked you like a beast anyway. Forehead pressed to yours, ears flat against his head, panting into your mouth. Your slick made the filthiest sounds every time he thrust home and when his teeth found your neck hard enough to break skin, the noise you made had his rhythm stuttering.
“Sorry- ngh- didn't mean-“ But he didn't stop. Couldn't.
His hand slid under your back, arching you up into him. The other pinned your wrist to the mattress. Blood smeared across your throat from his lips.
“That's it, that’s my good girl-“ Completely gone. Ruined.
You came screaming and do you think that made him slow down? Fuck no. He didn't slow down even a little.
“Again.” Barely a whisper. Begging. Pleading for just one more scream from those pretty lips…
“Valko- can't- no more-“
His ears drooped, this wounded little sound in his chest, “I know babe, m'sorry-“ His hips snapped forward anyway, “what’s a pup supposed to do? You just feel so good- cant- shit- can’t stop-“
Your cunt was a sloppy, ruined mess at this point- syrupy strings of your cum and arousal coating his cock, smearing creamy across your inner thighs. You could feel yourself dripping between your ass, making a puddle beneath you.
Then something big started pressing at your entrance.
You felt it before your sex stupid brain could process it- this thick, swelling pressure at your already stuffed hole. Stretching you wider. Wider. Too wide-
His knot.
It shoved inside with a wet POP and you shrieked, back bowing clean off the mattress, nails carving bleeding trenches down his spine. The sudden fullness -that fat bulge locking him in, plugging you up, pressing against every sensitive nerve- had your vision whiting out again. Your cunt spasmed around him, another orgasm cresting before the last one even finished, milking his knot in desperate fluttering clenches.
“Huh? What happened?” Total confusion. His ears shot up, head tilting, “You alright babe? Did I do something?”
“Your- your fucking knot- fuckfuckfuck-“ you choked out.
“What?” He blinked down at you, all golden puppy eyes while his monster sized knot split you in half, “What's wrong with it?”
“Ser -seriously? Sh’too- It's s’too big-“
“It is?” As he smirks he shifts his weight and you damn near passed out, “seems fine to me?”
You laughed -or sobbed, hard to tell- and it broke into a moan when he rolled his hips experimentally. You grabbed his hand and shoved it down between your bodies, pressing it against the bulge in your lower belly. Obscene. Fucking obscene.
“Valko.”
He looked down. Blinked. His tail started wagging. Actually wagging!
“Oh wow.” Like he'd found something mildly interesting, “That's pretty crazy.”
“YEAH.”
“Does it actually hurt?” He pressed against the bulge with genuine curiosity and your eyes nearly rolled back into your skull. Tail still going.
“Do you- hahh- do you seriously not know- how huge-“
“Dunno, never measured?” He dropped a casual kiss on your forehead, sweet as anything, while his fat fucking knot throbbed like it was trying to reshape your insides. “Always been like this. Annnnd those noises don’t really convince me you’re in pain.”
You were gonna fucking murder him. Right after you finished losing your mind on his cock.
He ground down into you and you came so hard you forgot your own name, pussy clenching around him like a goddamn vice.
“Oh- shit- shit-“ Finally cracking, his voice going high and whiney, “Squeezing me so tight, you’re gonna make me-“
He buried his face in your neck and came with a broken whine, and you felt it- pulse after pulse of hot cum pumping into you, filling you up til your belly rounded out even more. His arms caged you in, tail thumping against the mattress as he bred you full.
“S'good,” he slurred against your throat…
“Valko,” you whimpered, brain leaking out your ears., “M'so full-“
“Mm?” He sounded so pleased with himself.
Still absolutely clueless.
Way later -who even knows how long- he was still on top of you, weight braced on his elbows so he didn't crush you. His knot pulsed lazy and another warm gush filled you up.
“Hey,” he mumbled into your hair, and you could hear the grin in his voice.
“Mm.”
“So...” His fingers walked playfully up your side, making you squirm- which only made you clench around his knot and whimper, “You think my knot's big, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Nah but like-“ He propped himself up to look at you, smirking, tail swishing, “You were really loud about it. Pretty sure the neighbors know now.”
“I hate you.”
“Mmhm.” He rolled his hips just slightly -enough to make you gasp- and his grin widened. “That why you're still milking my cock right now?”
Your face burned, “I- I can't- it's involuntary-“
“Sure it is.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, nuzzling, “S'okay baby. I think it's cute how much you love my huge knot.”
“I never said-“
“‘S'so fucking big Valko,'”he mimicked in a breathy voice, and you smacked his chest while he snickered. “'Your knot Valko, oh my god-“
“I do NOT sound like that.”
“You kinda do.” Another lazy grind. Another gush of cum. His eyes glittered. “Wanna hear what else you said? Got real creative toward the end there.”
You shoved at his shoulder uselessly. He didn't budge, just laughed and buried his face in your neck, pressing smiling kisses to your skin.
“M'just teasing, babe” His tail curled around your thigh, “youre cute when you're embarrassed.” He nuzzled the tippy top of your head.
“I'm gonna kill you when your knot finally goes down.”
“Mm, that's fair.” He snuggled closer, entirely unbothered, “Gives me like twenty more minutes to annoy you though.”
His hips shifted again, lazy and deliberate, and the noise you made was mortifying.
you almost want to get on your knees and beg that a day out with your family would go normally.
that you wouldn’t be stuck in your current predicament.
with furrowed brows you look to the left, at your husband.
gosh..
he’s in a worser state than you.
you’ve never seen sukuna like this, his serious expression a stark contrast against the lively joy of the amusement park. with his clenched jaw and eyes darting every which way.
in search.
sukuna’s eyes narrow when you touch him on the shoulder.
“i’m sure he’s somewhere here..” you’re not sure whether you’re reassuring yourself or him, “we’ll find him”
your son, 6 year old baby!yuji is lost.
you rack through your memories, replaying every single moment from you entering to park to the last time you saw him.
the food stalls.
you grip sukuna’s arm harsher than needed, albeit it does not hurt him, and march towards the stalls.
sukuna starts asking the vendors for a kid with a similar hair color to him. they all shake their heads mumbling excuses.
“nonsense” sukuna mutters to himself, “everyone here is a fool”
“not more than us” you sigh gripping your chest in an attempt to slow down the incoming panic coursing through your veins.
“listen” sukuna suggests, “we should split up”
“bad idea, better we stick together unless we start going in circles” you breathe hard, gasping out the last few words, worst case scenarios flashing through your mind.
sukuna grabs you by both your arms, you shake your head in protest and he grips you harder, not bruising just firm.
“listen to me” he speaks and you nod, “we’ll find him okay? and damn the heavens if i leave this place without my son”
you lick your lips, “yeah let’s..um call me, text, whatever just..”
the world seems to move in a blur.
you’d been so happy, all of you, yuji insisted on coming here and you obliged ofcourse, you’d do anything for your son. yuji’s laughter on the rides, sukuna carrying yuji on his shoulders, yuji’s cotton candy stuffed cheeks.
you inhale shakily.
“i will,” sukuna calls out starting to walk away.
you turn around in haste, praying, praying, praying.
please let my baby be safe.
until—
“may we have your attention, please.”
your pulse jumps in your throat.
“the parent or guardian of a young boy waiting with our lost and found team is requested to proceed to the main entrance.”
you turn around searching for sukuna to find his eyes already on you.
“again, the parent or guardian of a young boy waiting with our lost and found team, please make your way to the main entrance. thank you.”
before your mind could catch up, you’re running. with sukuna only a step behind you, you both make for the main entrance.
closing up to it you spot him instantly, and you stop in your tracks.
sukuna walks ahead, speaking to the security guard who just laughs while saying something, but you’re too busy to notice. your eyes are frantic you scan your son head to toe.
he’s fine, he’s okay.
the rope of panic that had tightened around your chest loosens. you watch from a distance as yuji bounces on his feet, asking sukuna to pick him up while your husband rubs his neck, thanking the security guard for keeping your son safe.
and then yuji’s eyes flick over to yours.
“mama!!” he comes running.
you hadn’t realized how much that sound had meant to you, not until you’d been faced with the possibility of losing it.
you bend down scooping baby!yuji up into your arms and peppering his face with kisses, while he squeals and giggles.
opening up his hand, yuji proudly shows you a fidget spinner as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t been lost “gun man gave me a gift!”
children were so clueless.
and you were too elated to speak, this just the act of holding your son, having him in your arms again meant everything.
“did you say thankyou, to the security guard?”
“duh” he droned, already looking around for some mischief to get up to.
you felt sukuna’s arms close around the both of you pulling you into a hug. he kissed the side of your head for a moment too long and you understood.
this had been just as frightening for sukuna.
though he’d never admit it.
but you knew, just from the way he slightly rubbed your shoulder and listened to yuji’s rambles attentively.
“he’s smart” his voice came out rough,
you leaned your head back against his chest, raising a brow in question.
“found the security guard himself, told him that he couldn’t find his mama and papa” he chuckled slightly, “brat didn’t even cry one bit”
you buried your nose in yuji’s hair and sighed contentedly.
“and here i was losing my mind” you murmured.
sukuna shrugged, “…and here we were”
yuji crawled out of your grip onto sukuna’s shoulders, cheerfully pointing around,
“can we go on that next?”
firefly; i’ve had this idea for so long, i just figured out how to execute it ❀ུ͏
gulps first time in a while writing smut, please don’t hate…
“You’re doing so well. Fuck, keep your tongue out juuust like that.” Sukuna purred, looking down at you. You were planted on your knees, both hands placed innocently in your lap, gaze locked onto crimson eyes.
For the past hour, he had been teaching you how to give a good blowjob. You were totally fucked out, completely forgotten how you ended up in this situation—especially with a man who had a reputation for having girls running out of the room, bursting into tears.
But you didn’t care about that, and besides, you were getting the hang of it. At first, you didn’t even know what to do with your hands or mouth when his dick was right in front of your face. You wouldn’t admit it, but it scared you. Not because of anything bad, but because of how big it was.
It was as big as your face; it was at least eight inches or more, and you’ve never seen a cock this big- well, at least face to face. You may or may not have watched a bunch of videos of guys jerking off on Twitter, but seeing it in real life. You couldn’t deny that it made you nervous.
Sukuna bit his lip while a tattooed hand gripped your hair tightly; the other hand held the base of his cock, slapping the tip against your flattened tongue. His abs flexed at the sight. Your pupils were blown with lust, and drool was dripping down the side of your chin. You looked like a slut.
What made Sukuna even more turned on by this whole situation was that you were the shy, nerdy girl in his class, and when you first asked him to teach you how to give a blowjob, for the first time in his life, he was stunned.
No one would've thought you would ask something along those lines. But you wanted to learn, plus you also wanted to try it out for the first time. But with the way Sukuna was groaning your name like he was getting the best dick sucking of his life. It seems you may not need this teaching.
"Let's see how pretty you look with my cock on your face. Hm?" You nodded rapidly as your tongue slid back into your mouth. Sukuna smirked, watching as you closed your eyes when he dragged his cock around your face.
“Enjoying this?” You murmured, peeking one eye open to stare up at the pink-haired man. He shrugged, moving his length to the side of your nose.
“I don’t know, am I?” He teased, flashing pearly white teeth. The same grin you always saw when he was being egotistical—you tried your hardest not to roll your eyes.
“Seems like it…”
Sukuna doesn’t respond. Instead, He placed his hand flat around his cock while the other hand that was gripping your hair moved slowly down to your neck, holding onto it tightly. Not enough to cut your airway, but enough where you felt the rough pressure in his grip.
“Shh and be a good girl.” He began to thrust into his hand. It was slow in the beginning, his gaze heavily locked on you. As if he was admiring the way his cock looked, rubbing against your skin.
Sukuna couldn’t deny that this was the kinkiest shit he’s ever done with a girl. All the other times he had fucked someone, it was either too vanilla or the girls wouldn’t be into the stuff he was into. They’d either decline or think he was weird.
But now that he’s thinking about it, he may have found the one for him. Who knew the nerdy girl could be as kinky as he is?
You were completely cock drunk again—mind hazy, your thoughts tangled until they barely made sense anymore. Eyes fluttering shut, your mouth gapped open as you withdrew your tongue, slurping and licking the side of Sukuna's length that was right in front of your mouth.
His massive hand roamed all across your face as he continued to thrust faster against your face. His Eyebrows furrowed—lifting up- while his plump lips parted slightly.
You hollowed your cheeks, and the feeling alone could’ve made Sukuna cum in an instant. You whined against his cock, moving a hand up the front of his leg; the tip of your nails dug into his skin, making him hiss.
It was so messy. Spit all over your face, your hair sticking against the side of your cheek. The sound of him groaning, you slurping all over his dick and your muffled whimpers filled the room. It looked and sounded like something straight out of a porn film, or the kind of scene you’d only expect in a feverish dream.
“Who knew you were such a slut for cock.” He murmured, his voice raspy and filled with lust. You opened your eyes at his degradation. Peering through your lashes, your eyes caught onto his. You didn’t feel any sense of shame. If anything, you felt more turned on.
Without thinking, you moved your hand between your thighs, pushing your panties to the side, not long before you begin to rub slow circles around your clit, the sensation immediately made you whimper against him.
“Fuck, you're so hot,” Sukuna rasped, quickly moving his length from your face—which makes you whine in protest. Holy shit, you were cock drunk for him.
“Hey! Wha… What are you doing?” You questioned, as an eyebrow raised, flopping down both hands on your lap.
He chuckled at your neediness, pumping himself right in your face. Pre-cum spilled out from his pink tip, and you couldn’t help but want to clean up all the salty-sweet slick.
“You look pretty with my cock on your face.” His teeth sank into his swollen bottom lip. “Now I want to see how good you look with my cum on it.”
content: drabble, mentions of alcohol, sukuna’s an ass guy (rip readers ass), threats
Being with Sukuna isn’t for the weak. He’s not the most expressive person when it comes to his feelings, not even after an entire year of being in a relationship. He doesn’t do PDA, won’t partake in discussions when his friends start talking about the women they’re seeing, has a straight face the entire time whenever he does briefly talk about you.
But, everybody knows he loves you. Yourself included.
It’s in the way he keeps an eye on you in group settings, the way he’ll randomly come up to you with a new drink after noticing you’ve already finished the one you’ve been holding in your hand. Sukuna will be on his best behavior when you’re around, but will also lose his fucking mind if you are mildly inconvenienced.
“She asked for extra barbecue sauce 13 minutes ago,” he once snapped at a waiter. “Where the FUCK is it?” That was fucking embarrassing. In his defense, he refuses to start eating without you and you were waiting until they came back with it to touch your food.
At the end of the day, he simply wouldn’t have stayed this long if he didn’t hold any deeper feelings. They are there! He just has them hidden behind his god awful temper.
It’s not until he finds himself a little too drunk at a small party, when he randomly decides to be open and honest about how much he enjoys touching you.
And it starts with the resounding smack! of his palm as he cracked it against your ass cheek, followed by the yelp it pulled out of you, because it was the last thing you expected.
It reaches many people's ears, and when they turn to look towards the dining room table, they find you glaring at Sukuna. He looked fucking love struck with that glossy, faded look in his eyes as he sat back in his seat, rubbing the spot he decided to target while you were in the middle of looking for the lipgloss in your purse.
“That fucking hurt!” you hiss at him, swatting his hand away, only for it to go right back. “What is wrong with you?!”
“Looks fuckin’ nice in these shorts,” he says absentmindedly, smiling as he gave your ass a firm squeeze.
“Stop that,” you swat his hand away again.
“Quit acting like that hurt,” he scolds you, face softening as his hand goes back, again. “Love this ass—m’gonna fuck it one of these days.”
“Kuna!” you gasp, stunned by his sudden boldness when he’s nothing but reserved with you in public. “No you’re not—“
“Kiss me,” he cuts you off, his big hands now pulling you in by the waist.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No?!” You start to shove him away, which does nothing but make him laugh, especially when you look back at your friends who find themselves more than entertained by seeing this side of your relationship.
“The fuck are you looking at Shoko for? She’s not gonna save you from me—isn’t that right Shoko?” he raises his tone as he asks.
“Yeah, I’d rather not.”
“That’s what I thought.” He grins as he turns his attention back to you. “You see that, baby? She doesn’t give a fuck about you. Nobody does. Just me.”
And you laugh, because this is how he always teases you when you’re alone. “You sure it’s just not because everyone’s scared of you?”
“Good. You should be scared of me too, sweetheart,” he responds, as if it drives his point home. “Now give me my fuckin’ kiss.”
There’s a low groan that rumbles through his chest when you finally do kiss him, as if he’d been waiting for one the whole night. He grabs your jaw, slips his tongue into your mouth, drags it on for longer than it should’ve been.
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he murmurs.
“Get a room, freaks,” Gojo yells out from the kitchen.
“Fuck off,” Sukuna easily cuts himself. “We’re going home so I can fu—”
“We never agreed to that?!”
notes: idek i haven’t written for sukuna in months and immediately wrote this when the idea popped up
you’re well aware that your relationship with satoru isn’t exactly normal. people seem to think you have no clue, but you’ve never been ignorant. for all the casual jokes and whining clinginess, you can tell your boyfriend is deeply, possessively in love with you.
it shows in everything he does. satoru likes to hide it behind a veneer of playfulness. you don’t mind. in all reality, you find it pretty cute—the doting, the teasing, the silly jokes that all veil that intense want that lurks in him. he wants you so bad it’s impossible to ignore. no, more than that: he needs you so much it bleeds into everything he does.
he’s teasing when he winds an arm around your waist, joking when he drops his chin on your head and pulls you away from whoever you were talking to. there’s a casual, unspoken jealousy to the action, but he’s so good at pretending it’s just gojo being clingy. it’s just what everyone expects of him. you’re the only one that knows better. you can see the angry glint in his eye, hear the way satoru’s heart picks up in his chest every time you reciprocate. you’re the only one he lets past infinity, the reason he’s been working to make it cover you as well. he just can’t bear to see other people touching you—you don’t blame him, do you?
best of all, you’re the only one that sees him desperate, that gets to watch him unwind. he worships you. you don’t have sex as much as you make love, his hands roving your body and plucking sweet moans from between your lips. satoru will murmur as he takes you, voice unbearably vulnerable and unspeakably intimate. “no one else can make you feel like this, baby,” he says on a moan. on the next, quiet and sure, “even better, i’m the only one that gets to see you like this. they don’t even know what they’re missing out on. i won’t let them ever find out.” he holds you tightly, kisses you ardently, and if you let him, he’ll fuck you until his legs give out. until he has no more love left to give.
so maybe you’re a little too encouraging. so what? who cares if you let your gaze linger on another man just to watch satoru’s eyes sharpen? what does it matter if you’ll play ignorant to another man’s advances, just to revel in the way satoru steps in and stakes his territory?
sex like that is even better. satoru gets mad, possessive—not at you, never at you. but your entire body becomes a canvas for him to stake his claim on, and it makes him rough. he’ll grip you until you bruise, kiss you until your lip splits, fuck you deep and hard so that you wake up the next morning sore, just so he can dote on you all over again.
“he’s so needy,” utahime complains to you one day, after he’d dragged you home from an event. he’d claimed he just wanted you all to himself for a moment, to get away from such boring company. it’s more honest than everyone suspects. he really does hate to see you talking to other people. “he wants to leave, and you leave. he hates when you talk to other guys. i swear, whenever you’re not paying attention to him, it’s like the sun’s frozen over. and then he has to act up until you’re looking at him again. how can you handle a guy that clingy?”
“i think it’s cute,” you reply. “i like how much he likes me. makes me feel like i’m the only girl in the world, you know?”
utahime snorts. “he sure seems to think so. remember last week? it’s like he didn’t even realise that girl was flirting with him.”
he hadn’t. or maybe he had, and satoru simply revels in your jealousy as much as you do his. you’d attached yourself to him like a limpet, fingers curling around his bicep as your head leant against his shoulder. you were polite to a fault until you chased her off, so clingy that satoru couldn’t tear his eyes away. in the end, he’d barely said three words to the girl before you monopolised all of his attention. he’d grinned wide and proud, and been twice as clingy as you were thereafter.
(when you got home, well. you’d been on top, riding him to a slow climax while he stared up at you worshipfully. his thumbs rub circles into your thighs, and with every rock of your hips, he lets loose an unabashed groan. he’s so free in his pleasure, so open about how good you make him feel. satoru never lets you doubt how perfect you are for him.
he comes first, for once. heaves and whines into your mouth even as he tells you to keep going, tells you that i’m sorry i want you so bad, baby. that doesn’t mean you need to stop—take me for all i’ve got, kay? he whispers those promises until you follow him over the edge, curled on top of him and breathing deep against his collarbone.
“you’ll never leave me, will you?” he asks, except he doesn’t say it like a question. he says it like a vow.
“never,” you promise. “you’d be dead before i let you get rid of me.”)
sukuna takes you to the beach so you can lay on your tummy! ft: pregnant reader & whipped sukuna <3
notes: i feel like sukuna would be very territorial and protective of you while you're pregnant cus now not only is he protecting his wife but also his kid?! anyway i'd love to see him chilling there too <3 i think he'd have fun at the beach... if he let himself -_-
if there was one thing you exceeded at, it'd be sending your dear husband's blood pressure soaring to astronomical heights, and you took pride in being the one person to evoke such emotions in the man most considered heartless
currently, you're walking by the shore while sukuna trudges behind you, carrying all your necessities for the day with ease underneath the hot, scorching sun. you keep one hand over the swell of your stomach while admiring the view before suddenly stopping, and sukuna drops your belongings onto the sand beside you a moment later as you deem this spot perfect aloud for him
"four bags. you brought four bags for what, woman?" he growls, pinching your cheek as you squeal. he lets go eventually, already dropping onto his knees as he begins carving into the sand with determination set in his gaze, and you lower yourself carefully and wiggle your toes in the sand right after
"thank you for bringing me here." you sigh happily, and he merely grunts in response. you watch his large hands dig skillfully into the ground as he works. it's a hot summer day, and you're nearly three quarters of the way through your pregnancy.
sukuna had found you crying, as he often did these past few months simply due to mood swings, and through a garbled confession filled with tears and whining, he learned your sadness came from the fact that you couldn't lay on your stomach anymore—and, well, that just wouldn't do.
it didn't take him long to figure out a way you could relax while still being safe for the baby, but once he did, he quite literally dressed you in a sundress himself before renting out a beach for the two of you to relax on. to say you were happy was an understatement: you were absolutely ecstatic
"the things i do for you... stupid woman. stupid, lovely woman." he mumbles irritated, and you tilt your head down to peer up at him through your sunglasses before offering him a dazzling grin. sukuna stares right back, utterly unimpressed
once he's carved out a suitable crater for you to lay your stomach in, he helps you get adjusted, relaxing only when he sees you smile
"lay with me!"
—and so he does. he lies right beside you, squinting up at the sun as he sighs loudly
"it's too fucking bright out here." he complains, throwing an arm over his eyes as you hum noncommittally, breathing in the fresh smell of the sea. you feel so comfortable you could fall asleep—and while you do spend some time drifting between dreamland and consciousness, sukuna nudges you gently about a half an hour later
"nooo," you whine, digging yourself further into the sand while you hear him snort
"you'll regret not looking up," he murmurs, and you raise your head from your arms with a huff as he gently takes hold of your chin and tilts it towards the water. your brows furrow in confusion before a gasp slips past your lips when you see a mother sea lion with her baby relaxing by the shore
"oh my god," you say, eyes round as your gaze glasses over in an instant, and sukuna watches your lips form an annoyingly adorable pout
"oh, for fuck's sake, please don't start crying again." he groans, but even when he hears the little sniffles that escape your lips a moment later, he doesn't hesitate to pull you against him. thankfully, sukuna's large enough for you to collapse against him and be supported by his arms alone entirely
"adorable... so, do you think it's a baby boy or girl?"
sukuna bristles at your question before his gaze snaps down towards you
"what?"
"i said do you think it's a girl or a boy." you repeat, poking his cheek as he gently swats away your hand. sukuna's brows furrow as if he's thinking carefully about what to say next, and you listen closely for his response before he murmurs the word quietly
"...a girl."
you hum, and his eyes narrow as he stares at you
"what about you?" he questions, and you tap your chin in thought
"i think it's a boy. i don't know why—i guess it has a bit of a boyish look. but i'm sure girl sea lions and boy ones look the same, yes?"
sukuna pales once he realizes you were in fact not talking about the baby in your stomach but rather the fat baby sea lion residing about a hundred feet from the two of you instead
"what the f—you never—what?!"
"i'm pretty sure male sea lions are bigger too, and that one looks like a pretty big baby! it must be! you should thank me, ryo. because of me, you still get to learn new things here and there." you say proudly, nuzzling back against his chest contentedly as he fights back the string of curses lying heavy on the curve of his tongue
"you're so..." he starts, words tapering off into a growl as you peer up at him through your lashes innocently
꒰ summary ꒱; you play the chapstick challenge with your boyfriend, sukuna .ᐟ (basically just ends up in you ragebaiting him) (if you're unsure of what it is, search it on tiktok ^.^)
꒰ content ꒱; crack, lots n lots of kissing, sukuna has a strong hatred for flavoured lip balm..
you and sukuna had been hanging out in his car, ranting about whatever came to mind.
eventually, to break some awkward silence, you brought up an idea.
"kuna, let's play the chapstick challenge!"
"the what challenge?"
you pulled a multi-pack of flavoured lip smackers out of god knows where before he could refuse or question further, propping your phone on the dashboard to record.
he scrutinized the colourful packet, eyeing it like it grew a mouth and cussed at him.
"okay, we're gonna take turns putting some on and either one of us will guess what flavour it is."
"this game sounds like it sucks."
you saw the face he was making through the phone screen, a chuckle slipping past your lips, his expression akin to a disgusted cat.
"so i'll put a random one on, then you're gonna kiss me." his face lit up and he turned instantly upon hearing kissing was involved, ready to let you start.
"kuna, you've still gotta see what flavours there are," you reminded, giggling at his eagerness.
"don't need to."
the moment you asked him to turn back around, he leaned over the center console, kissing you far longer than necessary.
you pushed sukuna back slightly, earning a soft grunt from him.
"you've still gotta guess, silly."
you watched excitedly, the suspense growing, ready to hear his guess.
only for you to realize he had an expression of pure obliviousness on.
you knew that face.
you sighed, hoping he didn't completely fail at his one and only task. "you didn't even remember to guess, did you?"
"...no."
you huffed, forcing him to turn around again to reapply it.
"okay, now guess."
his lips found yours easily again, making sure to bite down on your bottom lip, savouring the taste. (of you, not the chapstick)
"cherry."
"it's actually cherry soda."
"that's literally the same thing."
"nope," you insisted, stifling a laugh at how riled up he looked already.
"my turn," you declared, turning around, covering your eyes.
he applied the product, grimacing at the strong artificial scent.
"turn around," he ordered.
you initiated the kiss this time, pulling away far too fast for sukuna's liking.
"hmm.. strawberry twist?"
"how'd you-"
"yay! okay, your turn."
he grumbled at your enthusiasm, complying either way.
when he kissed you a second time, he was determined to get it correct this time around.
"blue raspberry."
"wrong, it's blue raspberry sour tangy explosion," you corrected with a completely straight face.
"that cannot be true."
he took the little cylinder balm from you, narrowing his eyes as he read the label and realized you weren't kidding.
"how the hell was i meant to guess that?"
"should've read the labels," you pointed out, snickering.
"whatever."
after a couple more makeout sessions and multiple failed attempts from sukuna, he'd given up.
"this game is fuckin' rigged."
"you're just bad at it."
it was taking everything in you to hold back another giggle. "okay, juustt one more-"
he cut you off, kissing you silent before you could continue speaking.
"no more," he urged, pressing you further against the door panel with ease, his large hands encircling your waist.
he smashed his lips against yours once hastily, this time with a different sort of need. his tongue forced its way into your mouth, sloppily tangling with yours.
he paused for a moment, his breathing ragged.
he entwined his fingers in yours to grab the chapstick out of your hand, dropping it in the glove compartment.
"besides, you taste sweeter without it, yeah?"
well, you knew without a doubt the camera would capture whatever happens next !
you weren't even planning on being home when your ex boyfriend choso came over to pick up the last of his clothes. sure, maybe letting the poor soul in to pack his things might've resulted in him swiping a few pairs of your unmentionables, but it would have been worth avoiding this.
you lean against the wall of your bedroom—the one you once shared—as you watch him pack his clothes into a bag. well, the clothes you didn't hide to keep and wear later. "eat what? i'm not cooking for you, asshole. men and your patriarchal entitlement to homecooked meals."
"eat you," he clarifies, cheeks a pretty pink as he plays with his fingers. "not... not eat you. but. you know—"
"yeah i get it," you close your eyes, trying desperately to ignore the throb between your legs to save face.
"eat you out," he rambles on regardless. "your pussy. i mean, am i still allowed to call it that?"
"oh wow," you nod, turning heel to walk out of your room and into the kitchen. it's a mess, you haven't cleaned up from breakfast, but you'd rather be here than there.
choso follows behind you. "why are you going to the kitchen? i already said i don't want you to cook for me. sorry, i'm trying to communicate better, like you said. i want to go down on—"
"oh my god choso," you press your hands against the countertop, leaning forward and squeezing your eyes (and thighs) shut. "i get it. we're in the kitchen because if you kept saying that shit in the bedroom i was going to ride you stupid."
you don't need to open your eyes to know what look he's got on his face. you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from laughing when a small "oh," sounds out from behind you, followed by a "could we go back to the bedroom?"
choso is anything but slick, you guess. you, on the other hand, are slick with a sudden need that has your head near-spinning. "just... go get your things, choso. i'll wait here."
you are met with silence. choso's footsteps are usually heavy, but you think for a moment that he's managed to sneak away and finish his packing. you exhale, open your eyes, and turn to glance towards the bedroom, just to find choso right in the same spot.
on his knees.
he looks messy. like he's just been and reused, not like he's vying for it now. his hair is down, messy and falling into his eyes, which are already misty with tears. his lips are parted, chest heaving, as he lays both palms face-down on his thighs and gives you that look you've seen so many times before.
...one last time won't hurt.
the way his eyes widen as you walk over is sinful. makes you ache for the recent days in which you'd take what you needed from him over and over and over again, proprieties be damned.
"you suck at being an ex boyfriend," you murmur, stopping right in front of your choso and giving him a look when his hands rise to hold your hips. "this is the last time. i mean it."
choso nods frantically, already darting his tongue out to wet his lips at he tugs at the waistband of your pants, pulling them down to pool around your ankles. he leaves your panties on, and immediately dives forward to start kissing your clit through the now-damp fabric.
your hand shoots down and tangles in his messy hair, which makes him moan like a fucking whore. you'd tease him for it if you were less on the cusp of kicking him out for breaking your resolve.
as if he had to do much to get you to relent.
"fuck," you tilt your head back as choso digs his nose in against your heat and inhales. "you're gross."
"i miss you," he ignores your jab, well used to them now, and pulls your panties to the side. his fingers curl beneath the waistband, playing with it idly but not moving to take them off as he leans in holds your hips to his face. "can we get back together?"
"no," you're quick to answer. "that's not how it... fuck. that's now how it works."
choso looks up at you, eyes locked onto yours, his hair pulled harshly out of his face as he latches his lips around your clit and sucks. his eyes are still wet, and you can't help yourself before you're wiping the thumb of your free hand underneath them, ridding his tears.
always a hungry man, it doesn't take choso long to start devouring. moans drip from his lips alongside your wetness as he loses himself in his meal, one hand toying with the waistband of your panties (that you're sure he'll figure a way to take home with him) as the other holds your waist steady.
it's a good thing, too. the assault of his mouth on your clit is already enough to weaken your legs. you can lie to yourself and say it's because it has been a while, but you know that really there's no one that can pull you to this beautiful edge quite like choso does.
"oh my god," you bite your lip, tugging at his hair in earnest as you start to buck your hips forward against his greedy mouth. "i'm close."
he hums in response, sending vibrations up your spine as his hand in your waistband moves to push two fingers inside of you. the sudden intrusion has you gasping, steadying yourself on him and praying to any god that'll listen that you won't say something stupid like—
"god i fucking love you so much choso. feels so good, i miss this. miss you. miss your fucking mouth and oh my god i'm... fuck!"
your orgasm jolts through you like you've had your finger in an outlet. it's sharp and quick and almost a little painful, but the exact sort of release your body had been after. you slump forward a little into choso's steady hands, just to find them not so steady...
puling back and looking down, you find your pussydrunk ex boyfriend to be quite the sight for sore eyes. his lips and chin are covered in your release, eyes squeezed shut, and whole body tense as he gasps for air.
"are you..?"
"yeah," his word is shaky, exhaled through a moan as you watch the bulge in his sweatpants turn wet. "love you too."
you grimace. maybe riding him here on the kitchen floor would be a nice send-off to a relationship that ended so rightfully. though you know he doesn't deserve such niceties, maybe cumming in his pants is a suitable goodbye after...
you pause. "hey cho?"
"mhm?" he blinks up at you with his still-teary eyes.
"why did we break up again?"
your ex parts his lips for a moment, thinking on the answer. "i finished pretty little liars without you."
"ohh yeah," you stroke his hair, and then lean down a little to give his cheek a few gentle smacks. "get the fuck out."
the atmosphere was calm, well as calm as it could be with sukuna there.
you sat curled up in his lap while he yelled at toji through his headset for the nth time. you shifted slightly before slowly sliding out of sukuna's lap, he muttered a quick
“where ya goin?” his eyes shifted towards you, now fully out of his grasp.
“bathroom.”
he let out a low hum and returned his hard gaze back to his monitor.
-
“holy shit ryomen, yer washed.” toji snickered through the mic.
“easy to talk when you pick OKC every fucking round.” sukuna snarled back.
“aye back to back dubs speaks for itself.”
“its been two rounds already?” sukuna checked his phone, its been almost 2 hours since you left his lap.
“two rounds of belt? yea bro.” a snort came out from sukunas headphones.
“im hoppin off anyway to go out with my girl. cus i got other shit to do, like my girl. get it? cus i have a girlfriend.” sukuna teased.
“blah blah blah we get it asshat.”
sukuna chuckled to himself before logging off and heading over to barge on you in the bathroom, which was locked? he lifted a heavy knuckle and tapped on the door twice.
“babe, you takin’ a shit?”
a small snort escaped from the other side of the door, “yea ryo ive been shitting for two hours.”
his crimson eyes fluttered into a roll before he twisted the knob again, “okay brat then why is the door locked, let me in.”
needy bastard. “kuna you can wait for like two minutes, im almost done.” you added the final touches to your face before adjusting your dress again. kinda short. eh its fine.
he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed “almost done what? I can smell your body wash, did you wanna go on a date ton-”
the door swung open, revealing your finished look. hair done and neat, makeup on point, gold jewelry layered all over your body, and your new brown mini dress that hugged your body perfectly.
sukuna paused, looked you up and down, eyes immediately turning hungry.
“black shoes or brown shoes?” you cocked a brow at him.
“fuck, you look gorgeous baby.” he answered completely ignoring your question, “where we goin’?”
you puckered your lips and smiled back at him, “thank you. okay so black or brown?”
“brown. and give me like fifteen minutes, I'll be ready.” he bee-lined straight to the bathroom before your manicured hand pressed against his chest, stopping him right in his tracks.
“ryo you can’t come to girls night. I've told you this like a thousand times.”
girls night? It was like someone shot him in the chest right then and there. not only were you looking absolutely beautiful on a night the both of you had off, you were going out with your friends. instead of sukuna. not to mention how much they hated sukuna. the burly mans shoulders tensed,
“nonono, the hell you mean girls night? I thought WE were going out tonight.” it was almost pathetic how whiney his voice sounded. to anyone else it would've been a once in a blue moon sight, unfortunately for you it wasn’t.
“ryo I told you last night that I was going out with them.”
“did not.”
“did too.”
“did not.”
“ryomen i literally told you before we went to bed and you said ‘okay ill drive you.” you pushed past him and slipped on your brown kitten heels, before admiring your full look in the mirror.
“There's no way I said that, I was out cold before you even shut off the light.” he followed your trail like a sulking puppy`. a large six foot something sulking puppy.
“sukuna i promise you i’m not lying.” you paused with your purse and keys in hand.
“fine. but if i get handsy in the car, you cannot blame me. you look so hot.” he grabbed the keys from your hands and opened the front door.
you tsked, “mhm mhm no touching while my girls are in the car.”
“what.”
“we’re picking them up, remember?”
“you’re shittin’ me.”
-
after thirty minutes of being interrogated, looped into gossip, and asked the ‘you’re a guy what do you think?’ question approximately fifteen times, sukuna finally got to the restaurant.
your girls murmured a bunch of rushed thank yous before quickly hopping out of the car and heading into the restaurant. sukunas hand still gripped the wheel,
“thank you for dropping us off kuna.” you leaned over the center console and gave him a peck on the cheek, causing him to turn his head.
“call me if anything.” he responded in a low mumble.
“i know i know.” you smiled before turning to open your door.
“wait.” you paused and turned to look back at your boyfriend who was already outside of the car, he made his way around to your side and opened your door. He held your hand in his large gruff one before pulling you into another kiss, he pulled away just an inch from your mouth, his breath still on yours,
“i’m fucking the shit out of you when you get home.”
you felt the warmth pooling in your cheeks, you bit back a smile and mumbled back
“promise?”
sukunas hands gripped at your waist, before dropping to his sides, a slow huff escaped his nose, “pinky.”
you snorted before walking off, feeling the sting of sukunas hand slapping your ass as you did so.
-
sukuna knew as soon as you called three hours later, slurring every other word, that he would be eating his words that night.
after dropping off your equally drunk friends, he carried you into bed, taking his time removing your make up because he knew you would yell at him if he didn’t, then taking off your heels and dress, changing you into one of his shirts.
“ryo.”
“hm.”
“my friendsss saidd they loveeyou.”
“really?” shocking. considering they mean mugged him all night. didn’t even bother to say his name properly.
you nodded slowly under the sheets.
“why’s that?”
a hiccup escaped your lips, eyes fluttering shut “they said… youmake mee glow.”
“they’re idiots.”
you snorted, “loveeyouu.”
“i love you too brat.”
he couldn’t even be mad at you for blue balling him all night.
cw : est, poly relationship, threesome, head m. rec, penetrative & unprotected sex, guided blowjob, teasing, slight cuck kinji, pet names, kirara's thick & kinji's big, clit rubbing, creampie, swallowing, not proofread. poll winner.
ⓘ Featuring Kinji & Kirara love to fuck you right !
Whining while Kirara fucks you always feels like a humiliation ritual.
Each teasingly slow snap of her hips, the rolling grinds against you, her fingers rubbing your clit in soft circles, how were you supposed to remain quiet?
Hakari loved it, seeing his pretty girls make each other feel good until he joined in, watching up close & personal from the edge of the bed.
He'd clench his fists at each desperate noise let out & fought himself to stay put and just enjoy the show, but it could be hard.
"Kir—mngh—faster baby, please?" You cried, attempting to press your hips back against her. "I need you."
"Aw, baby." She cooed, sucking softly on the skin between your shoulder blades with a shallow thrust. "You need me? How bad?"
Kirara slowed her hips to a stop and tapped your hips slowly, rapping her fingers against the skin with a soft hum.
"So, so, so bad, Kir, please?" You let out a pathetic whine & Kirara had to hold her breath to not let out a moan. "Please, baby?"
She loved it whenever you'd beg for her.
She loved seeing Kin's reaction to you begging for her.
"Mm. Only if you're a good girl. Can you do that? Be a good girl for me & Kin?" She purred, guiding your chin to look up at Hakari.
"Yes. Yes, ma'am. I can, please just fuck me properly." You pleaded, giving your hips a little wiggle against hers & finally drew out a groan from her lips.
Kirara gave the round of your ass a light swat, starting a steady pace. "Good, good." She paused, looking over Hakari & his starstruck gaze glued to the pleasured expression on your lips. "kin baby?"
He glanced away from you, just for a moment & saw how Kirara's hips slammed against yours & visibly twitched.
Fuck, you two were so hot like this.
"Want her to touch you?" Kirara teased, stroking up your back slowly with a particularly harsh. squelching thrust. "C'mon, ask her, maybe she'll help you with your… situation."
Kirara gave a slow point to the strain of his sweatpants as you gave out a soft giggle. Kirara's hand quickly lowered to rub the small of your back again.
She always made sure to show affection while making love, even when she was teasing. The tenderness was as important, if not more important, than the actual sex.
She dragged a hand down your stomach, giving your clit a soft rub, soaking in the sharp mewl you let out, arching in pleasure at the way you clenched around her.
"Fuck, baby." He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "You know what you girls do to me, don't you?"
She let out a sarcastic scoff as she pulled you up, her chest pressing almost flush to your back, giving Hakari a pretty view of your tits bouncing with each thrust.
"No idea what you mean." She cooed playfully, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as she ground her hips against yours. "We're—ah—just enjoying ourselves, right sweetgirl?"
"Mh-hmm." You nodded dumbly, leaning back against her with a whine, grasping lazily at her arm & holding it steady as you rubbed yourself against her fingers.
Hakari loved this, seeing how good Kirara made you feel. The dripping mess between your thighs on a perfect, sloppy view.
Seeing each thick inch of Kirara disappearing into you with every thrust.
How your greedy cunt eagerly sucked her in with your thighs quivering. He imagined himself in your girlfriends place & let out a pathetic whine.
"Babe." He rasped, reaching out to grasp one of your hands, guiding it over his aching length. "Help me out here, won't ya?"
"Aw, sweet girl, look." Kirara cooed, cupping your breasts as she pressed you back against the bed. "He's all needy for you."
Hakari shot her a quick pout for taking away his view, but smirked as he took in the flush on her cheeks & the slight shake of her abs.
She was getting close & with the sound of your mewls against the comforter, you were too.
"Mn. Kin." You cooed, dragging one of his thighs closer, nipping at the skin while meeting his gaze, whimpering at Kirara's needy thrusts. "S'big baby." You stroked him slowly through his boxers, resting your cheek on his thigh.
"I'll show you big, baby." He crooned, roughly tugging his boxers down to free himself.
Hakari grasped his base, pumping once & grinned down at you. "Open up." He tapped his flushed tip against your lips, groaning as you did.
You eagerly swirled your tongue around his needy tip, grasping his hip as you bobbed slowly.
"Oh… look at her, Kin baby," Kirara whined, resting her chin on your shoulder, thrusts falling frantic. "Our good girl feels good, no?"
"God, so fucking good." Hakari agreed, guiding you to take him deeper, Kirara's hips faltering at the noise of you choking around his length & finally collapsed on top of you, spilling her seed deep inside you with a sharp mewl.
She sighed shakily, reaching out to pull your hair from your cheek & help guide you against Hakari.
"Oh god, just like that." Kinji groaned, his head lulling back as his eyes screwed shut. "I'm going to—" He cut himself off with a loud, needy moan, grip instantly loosening in your hair as you gagged around him.
Kirara let go too, sitting up behind you to watch as you pulled off Kinji, wiping your bottom lip as just a little bit of his cum dribbled out down your chin.
"You did so good for me." Kirara cooed, rubbing your hip gently. "Knew you could be a good girl for me if you really wanted."
when you walk into the living room, damp hair soaking the shoulders of your boyfriend's overpriced black t-shirt and your plush thighs on full display, satoru gojo doesn't even raise his head from the instagram reel he's watching.
you stop in front of him, waiting for a long moment as sabrina carpenter plays over his iphone speaker. you even wait until the song loops, but then he just swipes to the next video, another overplayed track starting up.
"satoru."
he lets out a hum, finally raising his pretty blue eyes from his phone screen. he smiles softly at you and sets his phone aside. "hey, sweets. how was your shower?"
"good."
"yeah? you look so pretty." he places his large, warm hands on your hips and gently guides you to step between his long legs. "smell good, too. could just eat you up," he teases, eyes sparkling with amusement.
and despite his playful tone, just the thought of the double meaning of his words has your pussy throbbing. "satoru," you say again.
"hmm?" his hands run soothing paths up and down your sides. "need something, baby?"
you nod a little.
“you gonna use your words?”
you pause, trying to push through the sudden shyness. you nod again. once you gather your courage, you say, “i need you to fuck me.”
he smirks a little, his thumbs brushing your hip bones. “really?”
“mhm.”
“tell me more.” he’s grinning, now, and if you weren’t so goddamn desperate right now, you’d scoff and turn your back on him and make him beg.
unfortunately, your body betrays you. your cunt is already so wet you feel your freshly washed panties clinging between your legs. you fight to swallow, and you say, voice wobbly with need, “i need you to pin me down and crack me like a glowstick. i don’t wanna think, i don’t want to decide, i want you to touch me and guide me and do all the work and i want everything to feel so overwhelming i can’t think.”
and he, like the eager hound he is for you, takes your command, your thinly veiled plea, like gospel.
two hours later, you’re not even quite sure how you got here anymore, your face buried in the fluffy pillows as drool drenches the fabric. every wordless cry is muffled in the pillowcase, and your eyes are hazy with tears of ecstasy and overwhelm. every drag of his cock against your walls sends sparks of intensity up your spine, and there's a deep pressure in your pelvis that never quite relaxes, even as another climax builds low and hot.
you've lost count of how many orgasms he's coaxed from you.
and satoru, the inexorable bastard, is hardly winded.
"come on, baby," he chides playfully in your ear, taking the lobe gently between his teeth as his hips slap against your ass, "you said you wanted it just like this, didn't you? where'd my brave girl go, huh?"
you just let out a broken sob, your body trying in vain to crawl out from under his, in search of just a moment of reprieve.
he just places one of his expansive palms on the back of your skull, pushing your head deeper into the pillows as he chases you down, locking you underneath his heavy and perfectly controlled form.
he doesn't let you run. and he sure as hell doesn't ease up on you.
"i know, baby," he coos as you hiccup another moan, your body trembling as another wave of release washes over you. "just a little more. you asked me for something, and you know i never break my promises."
a/n: genuinely have nothing to say for myself with this one
[ SERIES SYNOPSIS ] — it was obvious when this started, it was simply a mutual understanding between two horny college students — with very high libidos, and didn’t want any random stds — that this was purely a sexual relationship only. and yet, both of you are unintentionally toeing the line between that and something else ✦ frat!kuna fwb ✦ ongoing series
[ TAGS ] — MDNI. 18+ only. nsfw. angst. FAMILY DRAMA. a wholeeeeeee lot of plot. fwb. slight degradation. dumbification. sukuna’s thick happy trail. SEXTING. phone sex. dacryphilia. toxic frat culture. sukuna has ANGER issues. crying. toxic co-dependency. TRAUMA. domestic abuse. child abuse. depression. anxiety. wc: 22.6k
series masterlist ✮ previous chp ✮ next chp (coming soon)
the buzzing in sukuna’s ear was deafening.
all the blood in his body felt like it was burning through his skin. anger pounding behind his eyes as they stare at the red hand print on his little brother’s cheek.
the band on stage continues playing, a backdrop of chaos and cheering, all while sukuna stands completely still backstage. his heart pounds against his chest, cracking his ribs with boiling rage. the sweat builds on his face, and he slowly drags a finger towards kaori.
“…did you fucking touch my brother?”
choso, eyes rimmed red and glossy, glances up quickly at the familiar voice. his pupils grow wide at the sight of sukuna, shaking with rage. and already fallen off the edge…actively losing it.
kaori’s eyes widen in shock, her gaze drops to her hand then to her step-son. she swallows thickly. her short black bob lays flat on her head, a black skirt hugs her waist, as the rest flows, reaching her boney ankles. her formal attire stands out in the sea of casually under dressed teenagers and young adults. and none of it can hide the slight wrinkles around her neck, or the unnerving sensation that shoots through sukuna when she meets his gaze.
“choso said you weren’t here—“
she doesn’t get the chance to finish her sentence when sukuna’s suddenly slamming the frail woman into the wall. choso’s eyes widen as sukuna’s frame towers over her with little effort. he ignores how his hand shakes, gripping the collar of her blouse, squeezing. every muscle in his body shifts, tightening his hold on her.
“I asked you a fucking question!” he shouts in her face. unbothered by the sudden looks of people backstage, including ino, who ran into the crowd to call for sukuna when the woman came in.
a few moments earlier….
ino’s standing beside mechamaru, the two watching over choso as he adjusts his guitar for the fourth time that night.
“dude it sounded fine before, now you’re just messing with it,” mechamaru exhales in exasperation.
choso’s brows pinch, “no, this chord is loose.”
“because you keep playing with it.”
“just give me a sec!” choso snaps.
the two boys glance at one another, looking down at their distraught friend. it’s obvious choso’s been on edge since they arrived. but the guy won’t give them a straight answer. instead he keeps fidgeting and messing with his guitar like there’s a fly constantly buzzing in his ear. to make matters worse, ino and mechamaru noticed sukuna coming in with a couple of his friends. last they heard, choso still hasn’t cleared the air with him. is that why he’s on edge?
“got it,” choso finally exhales.
unfortunately, the good news is immediately cut short when choso notices his bandmates looking like they’ve just been shot.
standing behind him is the uncanny woman that looks like a spitting image of their best friend. choso’s heart drops to his ass, and the blood drains from his face in seconds.
“choso.”
the unnerving sound of his name coming from this woman’s lips has a chill running down his spine. his sweat turns cold as he looks up from his seat on the ground, quickly moving to stand up. choso stands at nearly the same height as the tall skinny woma, maybe an inch or so taller.
“mom, how’d you—“
SLAP!
the sound rings so sharp it cuts through the muffled bass bleeding from the stage outside. choso freezes. completely still. his head jerked with the impact, black hair falling into his face as the sting blooms hot across his cheek. for a second, he doesn’t even process what happened. his body locks up as his brain tries to catch up. his eyes are wide and unfocused as he stares somewhere past her shoulder.
ino and mechamaru go dead silent. the two boys stand there like statues, shock written all over their faces as kaori lowers her hand with terrifying calmness. there’s no guilt at all, just that same unreadable expression.
“you lied to me,” she says coldly. the authority in her voice settles instantly, suffocating the space around them.
choso slowly lifts a hand to his cheek, fingertips brushing over the burning skin, still unable to wrap his mind around the fact that she actually hit him. it’s been years— his throat feels tight.
“choso,” she says again, sharper this time. “i’m speaking to you.”
his eyes flick up properly now, confusion and disbelief behind his eyes as he finally looks at her. then instinctively, his gaze darts toward ino and mechamaru.
his jaw clenches.
“can we talk after?” he mutters quickly, voice rougher than normal. “i’m about to go up—”
“no. we’re talking now.”
her fingers wrap around his wrist immediately. it tightens, making choso stiffen as she pulls him toward the farther corner backstage, away from the noise and people passing through, heels clicking.
the second they’re out of earshot, mechamaru’s neck nearly snaps as he whirls toward ino. “why is she here?!” he whisper-shouts.
ino throws his arms up, drumsticks still clutched in one hand. “i don’t know! that was a hard fucking slap too—”
both boys suddenly glance back toward the corner kaori dragged choso to, he’s sitting on a stool as she stands in front of him. and the reality settles ugly in their stomachs. maybe this is exactly why sukuna didn’t want choso around her alone. and neither of them have to voice that realization.
“should we—”
“i don’t want him killing us though—”
“he’ll kill us for sure, but if we call him he probably won’t!” ino cuts in frantically, already moving. “c’mon!”
the two practically trip over themselves rushing out backstage. the second they hit the main crowd, the noise slams into them full force. music shaking the grass, colored lights flashing violently overhead from the strobes attached to the makeshift stage, and bodies shove shoulder-to-shoulder near the elevated stage as another band screams through their set on stage. the battle of the bands was the first huge event kicking off summer break, and the turnout at the rented park is insane and only getting bigger as more people flood in.
finding sukuna in this mess feels impossible.
“i honestly don’t know which way he went!” mechamaru yells over the music, shoving past a group near the bar trucks.
“split up!” ino shouts back immediately. “call me if you find him!”
they separate without another word, because somewhere in this packed park is a six-foot-four soccer captain with face tattoos, a terrifying temper, and enough presence to make grown men shut up when he walks into a room, and right now they need him.
eventually, ino spots a familiar head of pink hair through the sea of people. well….two heads.
an almost identical, much smaller version of the man he’s looking for sits perched on sukuna’s shoulders, glow sticks hanging around yuuji’s neck as the eleven-year-old screams along to the music like he’s completely lost his mind. sukuna isn’t much better, one tattooed arm is hooked around yuuji’s leg while he shouts something toward the stage, feral under the flashing lights.
ino nearly cries in relief, “sukuna!”
he starts shoving through people immediately, bumping shoulders and muttering rushed apologies until he finally reaches the college student. his hand grabs the back of sukuna’s plain black tee.
sukuna whips around instantly, ready to shove whoever grabbed him, then stops. “ino—”
“there’s a small problem!” the drummer’s panting, sweat dripping down his temple from sprinting around the park venue. sukuna’s expression shifts immediately. brows pinching sharply as his stomach drops before ino even finishes speaking. he can see it all over the kid’s face.
“choso’s mom is here.”
everything happens at once. yuuji yelps as sukuna grabs him off his shoulders without warning, shoving the younger boy toward gojo’s side. the white-haired man barely catches him properly before sukuna’s already gripping ino hard by the arm.
“where?”
“backstage—she took him—”
“watch him,” sukuna snaps toward gojo and geto, voice suddenly low cutting through the music.
gojo’s grin vanishes instantly. geto’s brows pinch instantly, that tone isn’t new to them. “for sure,” gojo says immediately.
ino doesn’t hesitate. he spins around and starts forcing his way back through the crowd, sukuna right behind him. except “behind” isn’t even the right word, his shoulder slams into strangers hard enough to make them stumble, dark eyes fixed ahead as the noise around him dulls. his pulse pounds violently in his ears with every step, ino’s words looping over and over in his head.
choso’s mom is here. his jaw clenches so hard it hurts. and somewhere deep in his chest— something ugly starts waking up.
present….
“I asked you a fucking question!”
kaori raises a hand to her step-son’s forearm. lips parting as her eyes dart over his hardened expression, his eyes flashing red, every muscle on his body protruding as sweat beads down his forehead.
“are you deaf?—“ he snaps after she takes too long to respond. his head snaps to choso still sitting on the stool. “she hit you?”
choso stands, head dropping and hand covering his face. his heart pounds against his chest.
“choso—“
choso’s clenches his jaw, blood boiling.
“choso—“
“forget about it!” choso snaps.
sukuna suddenly lets go of kaori, taking the single step to uncover choso’s face. his other hand cups his chin, tilting his face up, and it all hits him at once. the tears building behind his brother’s brown eyes, looking away from the older as he bites down on his teeth, and the bright red hand print on his right cheek.
kaori smooths out the front of her wrinkled blouse, eyes cold as ice.
“choso lied to me,” she says flatly, but not to sukuna, she never talks to him, it’s always at him. “he told me the money was for cram school because he was falling behind in his classes and needed it for his finals.” her lip curls faintly as she gestures toward the backstage area and the unruly screaming crowd beyond the curtains. “then i find out it was for this.”
choso tries pulling away from sukuna’s grip, but sukuna’s frozen, completely still as he stares at the red handprint burning against his little brother’s cheek. the heat builds u see his skin, sweat collecting behind his neck.
“spending time with you has rubbed off on him, something I did not want to know.”
that finally makes sukuna’s eyes snap upward, sharp and furious as his gaze cuts to choso instead of her. “how would she know to give you that money?” he asks quietly, that tone is worse than yelling.
choso visibly shrinks, shoulders tightening as he avoids eye contact. “she asked to meet with me,” he mutters, uncomfortable. “and asked if i needed anything.”
sukuna’s jaw flexes hard enough to hurt. “so when I asked you, it was before that?” choso looks away. and that’s all he needs. sukuna’s head whips toward kaori so fast it nearly startles ino beside them. “I’m getting a fucking restraining order on your fucking ass.”
kaori scoffs immediately. “we both know that’s not an option.” she crosses her arms now, anger bleeding through her composed expression. “i’m more concerned about my son going around asking people for money over some ridiculous band competition while struggling in school—”
“choso isn’t struggling with shit!” sukuna barks. “he’s a fucking genius. that’s how he scammed your psycho ass in the first place.”
people nearby are definitely staring now. a few phones are raised before mechamaru immediately starts hissing at people to stop recording while ino frantically waves others back. choso looks like he wants the floor to swallow him whole.
“are you seriously praising him for lying?” kaori demands.
“to you? fuck yeah.” sukuna steps closer. towering. violent rage practically radiating off him. “actually, i’m disappointed he didn’t ask for more money.”
“ryo—” choso starts weakly, oozing with embarrassment.
“that’s what you get for going behind my back,” sukuna cuts over him, eyes locked onto kaori. “throw all the money you want at him. choso isn’t going anywhere near you.”
“choso,” kaori says again softly, completely ignoring sukuna, that sets him off. choso’s face twists, confusion and guilt and stress all mixing together as he looks between them. “you know i’m just disappointed in your actions,” kaori tells him, voice suddenly gentler in a terrifying way that makes sukuna see red. “you can tell me if you’re having trouble asking your grandfather for things.”
the faux sweetness hits choso like another slap. sukuna sees the hesitation and confusion immediately. choso’s chest tightens, and suddenly sukuna’s moving again.
“stop fucking talking to him like that,” he snarls, voice low and shaking with fury. “jus’ ‘cause he answered your texts doesn’t mean you can suddenly care about him.”
“ry—” choso tries, voice tight.
sukuna doesn’t even hear him.
“you’re outta your fucking mind if you think giving him money is gonna win him over.” sukuna spits at kaori.
“i was helping my son,” kaori fires back immediately.
“your son?” sukuna laughs harshly. “now he’s your son?”
“ryo,” choso says again, louder this time, but sukuna’s blood is roaring too loudly in his ears to listen.
“i didn’t forget the way you fucking treated them,” sukuna steps closer. “some mother leaving bruises on her fucking kid, making him all jumpy. not after the shit you did with me—“
“i said stop!”
the shout cuts through backstage so sharply that even the people shouting over the music nearby go quiet for half a second. sukuna freezes. choso’s chest heaves. his face is bright red now from humiliation and anger. his eyes are glossy with held back tears that only seem to piss him off more.
“I don’t give a shit!” he snaps, voice cracking despite how hard he’s trying to keep it steady.
kaori’s expression shifts quick. “choso—”
“no—” he jerks away before she can touch him again, stumbling closer to sukuna, instinctively. “don’t— don’t touch me.” his breathing is uneven. ino and mechamaru exchange nervous looks from a few feet away. “I don’t fucking care about anything other than playing tonight—that’s it!” choso gestures wildly.
sukuna’s jaw clenches.
“i can handle my own shit,” choso continues, breathing shakily now, attention now on his older brother. “ya don’t have to make a big deal outta something when I didn’t ask for it!”
sukuna’s eyes darken immediately. “the hell you mean by that?”
“i mean i’m not yuuji!” choso explodes. “you don’t have to hover over me every second like i’m two!” a thick ugly silence follows, even choso goes quiet after saying it, but he doesn’t take it back. instead he glances briefly at his older brother, than at his mother, his jaw tightens. “i’ll pay you back the money by the end of summer,” choso snaps, eyes burning now. “so you can be disappointed at me, somewhere else.”
the words hit hard, then choso walks away, angry. truly angry.
sukuna watches his younger brother shove past the backstage clutter, shoulders stiff and fists clenched at his sides and for a split second, the resemblance is almost nauseating. not in appearance — sukuna’s always known choso looked too much like her — but in their temperament. the rage settling ugly beneath his skin until it explodes. sukuna never really noticed how much of himself choso inherited. but kaori notices it immediately, especially when her expression flickers.
choso reaches ino and mechamaru, both immediately crowding him with questions.
“dude are you okay?”
“what the hell was that?”
“did she seriously—”
“i’m fine,” choso cuts sharply. the three fall quiet, choso’s fingers tighten around the neck of his guitar before he looks toward the stage entrance where the current band is finishing up.
“we’re up next,” he says, jaw locked. “and we’re gonna fucking win this.”
ino blinks, then quickly grins. “HELL YEAH,” he shouts, shaking choso’s shoulders.
mechamaru nods quickly beside him, still nervous, but determined all the same. and just like that, the three disappear further backstage toward the stage call area, leaving sukuna alone with kaori.
sukuna’s sharp eyes cut through her, there was no holding back now that choso was gone. his hand snaps back onto her blouse, fingers curling in the fabric until it bunches tight and strains under his grip. he yanks her forward, lifting her just enough that her heels barely touch the ground.
“i’m going to fucking kill you,” he spits. his voice is low, and shaking with controlled rage. it was worse than shouting. “I’ll rip your arm straight out of your body if you—” his grip tightens again, the words weren’t enough to contain what he meant. “—ever lay a finger on him.”
kaori’s breath catches. she’s on her tippy toes now, frozen, sweat gathering at her temple, and for the first time, something in her cracks. this wasn’t another intimidation tactic or performance. it was a real threat from sukuna.
he leans in closer, voice dropping even further, every word precise, already imagining how it would happen. “i won’t even give you a chance to breathe,” his eyes are deep crimson blood, “if you touch them again… i’ll rip you in half before you even know what’s happening.”
and with that, sukuna lets go of kaori, and she stumbles back a step, catching herself with a sharp inhale.
“keep threatening me,” kaori spits, chin lifting even as her voice wavers at the edges. “I don’t take childish boys seriously—“
something in sukuna snaps again. “i’m gonna fucking kill you, you cunt—”
he steps forward, already closing the distance with terrifying quickiness— and then an arm locks around his chest and yanks him backward.
“what the fuck?!” sukuna twists immediately, muscles tensing as he fights the grip, but it holds him steady, pulling him off his line like he weighs nothing. he doesn’t even need to see the face at first, he just knows from the strength alone.
toji.
sukuna digs his heels in, shoulders straining as he tries to wrench free. “get off me,” he snaps, still fighting forward, still locked on kaori like she’s the only thing in the room. but toji doesn’t budge. he just drags him back another step, grounding him with pure force, cutting through the athletes strength with some struggle.
“get a fucking grip!” toji snaps in his ear. he uses every muscle in his body to knock sukuna off his weight again and drag him further away.
sukuna digs his fingers into toji’s forearms, but it’s too late when he’s pushed back to the exit, joining the crowd cheering the current band.
“fuck!” sukuna shouts, receiving a hard shove from toji until he’s completely knocked back. the rage had boiled way over, that toji standing in front of him, just as pissed, then he’s gripping sukuna’s collar, bringing him to his face, fist raised.
“are you fucking seventeen again!” he shouts, the music and chaos around them made everything much calmer than what was actually happening. “I’ll knock your teeth out if you don’t calm down!”
sukuna still struggles—
PUNCH
the hit directly lands on sukuna’s eye, sending him back, but toji keeps him up. fist curling tighter. “you wanna fuck everything for your brothers? do you!”
“you fucking bitch,” sukuna spits on toji, just to receive another punch directly in his solar plexes, almost knocking the wind straight out of him.
his breath catches, a few people nearby step away in surprise. the ocean crashes in the distance. toji still grips his shoulder. sukuna is hunched over, catching his breath, back rising and falling like a beast ready to attack. but instead, sukuna aggressively shrugs toji’s hand away.
“I’m going to fucking kill her,” he repeats under his breath.
toji rubs his face, chest heaving with his own rage.
“woah! what happened!” yuuji shouts over the music, eyes wide as sukuna finds them in the crowd again, toji not far behind.
gojo, geto, megumi, and now nanami, all glance up, all stunned at the bruise slowly forming around sukuna’s eye. sukuna looks furious still, not explosive like before, but still pissed. the anger settling deep. his chest still rises hard under each breath, jaw locked tight enough to crack teeth.
toji walks a few steps behind him, equally pissed, rubbing at his own face.
“jesus christ,” gojo says first, brows lifting. “did you get jumped?”
“shut the fuck up,” sukuna mutters instantly.
his voice comes rougher than usual, and he wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand standing back beside his brother.
yuuji stares up at him wide-eyed. “did someone hit you?!”
sukuna finally looks at him then. his expression doesn’t soften much, but something in his eyes shifts slightly at the sight of his little brother hovering there, worried out of his mind.
“i’m fine,” sukuna says shortly.
yuuji clearly doesn’t buy it. “your eye’s all swollen.”
“and?” sukuna shoots back, dismissive, though the edge in his tone dulls just a little. “still standing.”
toji scoffs behind him. “barely.”
sukuna cuts him a glare sharp enough to kill. for a second, it looks like sukuna might start yelling again, but then he just exhales hard through his nose and leans his head back instead. the ocean crashes somewhere behind them. music shaking the ground beneath their feet.
geto studies the tension between the two men carefully. “what the hell happened?”
“nothing,” sukuna says immediately. yuuji still lingers beside him, nervous energy practically radiating off him, and sukuna notices immediately.“quit staring at me,” he mutters, finally shoving lightly at yuuji’s shoulder. “i said i’m fine.”
yuuji doesn’t even get the chance to respond before sukuna suddenly grabs him by the waist and lifts him back onto his shoulders like nothing happened. except everyone notices the slight wince that flashes across sukuna’s face. his hand brushes his stomach for half a second, fingers pressing there instinctively before he adjusts yuuji’s legs over his shoulders again.
toji notices immediately. his jaw tightens.
“choso is up,” sukuna says instead, voice flat, already looking back toward the stage through the crowd.
yuuji steadies himself, hands gripping the top of sukuna’s head as he tries to lean down to see his brothers bruised eye. “are you sure you’re okay?”
“you ask too many questions,” sukuna mutters. but he keeps one hand locked around yuuji’s calf anyway, secure and steady despite the bruise forming around his eye and the ache spreading through his ribs.
gojo watches the whole thing with raised brows. “wow. tough guy for real.”
“say another word and i’ll knock your teeth out.”
“there he is,” geto sighs. nanami shakes his head slightly, though the corner of his mouth twitches for barely a second. behind them, toji exhales through his nose, still irritated, but at least sukuna has settled for the time being.
everyone’s attention shifts fully to the stage as choso’s band gets called up. megumi sits on toji’s shoulders, arms loosely resting over his dad’s head as the whole group drifts closer to the center front where the crowd thickens. lights flare across the stage, as the anticipation of the next band rolls through the audience. yuuji immediately lights up the second he spots choso stepping into place.
“CHOSOOOO!!!” he screams at the top of his lungs, bouncing on sukuna’s shoulders. sukuna tightens his grip instinctively, keeping him steady. the motion pulls at his bruised ribs again, but he doesn’t show it beyond a slight tightening of his jaw.
“THAT’S MY BROTHER!”
sukuna exhales through his nose, eyes fixed on the stage. choso stands under the lights now, adjusting his position at the mic, shoulders rolling back shaking off everything that happened earlier. the crowd noise builds around him, voices overlapping, everyone cheering.
gojo cups his hands around his mouth. “YOU GUYS GOT THIS!!”
on stage, choso finally looks up, and for a split second, his eyes find the group in the crowd.
yuuji waves wildly like his life depends on it. “you got this choooo!!!!”
sukuna doesn’t wave, but he holds eye contact with choso for a moment longer than anyone else, steady and sharp. the bruise on his face not visible under the shifting lights.
choso inhales sharply, shaking off the rest of his anxiety. sweat building from the nerves and heat. and then they start.
the first hit of ino’s drums sends the entire crowd shouting with excitement…
sukuna’s chest tightens. the uneasiness weighs on his shoulders as a dark pit quietly stirs awake inside him. though his focus remains ahead, eyes locked on his brother performing their first set, there’s that lingering anger that he hasn’t felt in a long time.
not since he was seventeen, standing by the intersection, red and blue lights flashing across his face, and his dad’s car jammed slightly beneath the truck, completely crushed.
“shit—that’s your dad’s car?” kashimo repeats, as if saying it again will snap sukuna back.
but he’s already moving. his feet stumble off the sidewalk before his mind catches up, shoving straight into the street. his skull is split open by the sirens screaming loudly. ambulances and police cars clogging the street. the headlights blur his vision, only seeing the wreck straight ahead.
“SUKUNA—!” kashimo pushes after him, nearly slipping as he forces his way through the growing crowd. officers notice immediately when the two teenagers duck beneath the tape.
“hey! kid—!” an officer grabs for sukuna’s arm.
sukuna violently shoves him off. “THAT’S MY DAD —!”
his voice sounds unfamiliar to him as it tears straight out of his throat, making the officer stumble back just enough for sukuna to break free and start running the second he sees paramedics dragging someone out from the passenger side.
his stomach drops.
the familiar body is pulled out, and all he sees is his father covered in deep red blood.
blood coats his face, runs down his neck, soaks through the front of his shirt. glass sticks to his skin. bruises already spread dark beneath the flashing lights while firefighters shout over each other around the wreck. controlling the truck from starting a fire. sukuna drops beside his dad so fast it scrapes the skin clean off his knees.
“shit—shit, shit, shit—” his hands shake violently as he looks at all the blood.
one of the paramedics tries pulling him back. “kid, you need to move—”
“dad?” sukuna grabs onto jin’s arm anyway, panic rising so violently inside him it feels like he’ll throw up. “dad, what the fuck—? WHAT THE FUCK?!”
his voice cracks at the end, eyes wide as jin tries to respond but only wheezing comes out. blood covers one of his eyes as he struggles to open them properly. every breath sounds wet and broken.
“r-ry—” his fingers twitch upward weakly, trying to reach him.
and suddenly sukuna can’t fucking breathe, the anger explodes through his chest making him dizzy. “YOU SHOULD’VE STAYED WITH ME!” sukuna shouts, tears burning hot behind his eyes. “WHY DID YOU GO AFTER HER?!”
jin barely seems aware of the wreck around him, or the paramedics putting a mask on him, or the blood soaking through his clothes. instead, his entire focus stays on his eldest son kneeling beside him with bloodshot eyes, and an anger he can’t seem to ease.
“ryo…” he wheezes painfully. “men…” his hand finally reaches sukuna’s hand, smearing blood across his skin.
behind them, paramedics pull another person from the opposite side of the car, alive and walking. kaori stumbles against the police cruiser, hysterical, mascara running down her face. her eyes are bloodshot and unfocused.
“ma’am,” an officer says sharply, catching her arm before she falls again. “have you been drinking tonight?”
another officer immediately steps in beside him after smelling it. kaori starts crying harder, words slurring together into panicked nonsense.
sukuna looks up. then something inside him twists… his father is laying in front of him and she’s standing.
“you fucking bitch,” sukuna spits, shoving himself to his feet so fast his knees nearly give out beneath him. jin’s bloodied hand slips from his sleeve, still reaching after him weakly.
“ryomen…”
but sukuna already storms forward. an officer immediately moves between him and kaori. “hey—hey! back up!”
“get the fuck out of my way!” sukuna barks, trying to shove past him again, completely losing it.
kaori sits against the side of the ambulance now while a paramedic presses gauze against the cut on her forehead. another wraps a blanket around her shoulders despite the smell of alcohol practically soaking the air around her. she looks up just in time to see sukuna lunging toward her and for the first time that night, genuine fear crosses her face.
“you did this!” sukuna screams.
two officers grab him before he reaches her. sukuna fights violently in their grip, rage tearing through him he can barely see anything besides red.
“HE WENT AFTER YOU!” he shouts. “HE FUCKING WENT AFTER YOU!”
“kid, calm down—”
“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM THE FUCK DOWN!”
behind him, paramedics suddenly start shouting near jin’s stretcher. one of them yells for another medic, and starts pushing sukuna’s father faster toward the ambulance.
what followed turned into a blur that sukuna’s mind never fully managed to piece together afterward. his body moved before his mind did. one second officers held him back, paramedics shouting around him, and the next he climbed into the ambulance beside his father while someone yelled that he couldn’t ride along unless he stayed seated.
sukuna didn’t even remember agreeing, he just remembered the inside of the ambulance feeling freezing cold, remembered the medic cutting jin’s shirt open, and remembered the blood. so much blood.
sukuna sat there with blood covering both hands, staring while they worked on his father right in front of him. jin barely stayed conscious the entire ride. every now and then his eyes opened halfway, searching weakly until they landed on sukuna again. like he needed to make sure he was still there. and every single time, sukuna felt something twist apart inside his chest.
then the hospital lights replaced the sirens. people moved around him constantly, nurses, doctors, officers asking questions—but sukuna stayed hunched over in the waiting room chair with his elbows on his knees and his father’s blood smeared across his hands. he stared at the floor so long he lost track of everything.
the automatic doors eventually opened again. heavy footsteps quickly coming towards him. toji. and then his gramps following close behind him.
“ryomen,” toji says immediately, breath uneven like he rushed there as fast as possible. “what happened?”
sukuna doesn’t answer. he just sits there, shoulders tense, brows pinched tight while his fingers curl harder against his palms. staring at the blood in the creases of his hands. then he mutters. quietly. low. “she killed him.”
toji’s expression shifts instantly. “what?”
“she killed him,” sukuna repeats, harsher this time, the words scraping out of his throat. “she killed him.”
sukuna barely notices the two men hovering around him. he keeps staring at the blood on his hands instead. his scraped knees. his football uniform still on.
sukuna genuinely can’t tell how many hours or minutes pass. the hospital waiting room grows quieter as the night drags on. his grandfather quietly rests his head back, while toji paces near the windows like he might punch straight through the glass. and then finally, the doors open again, a doctor walks out. everyone freezes immediately. and sukuna doesn’t need to hear the words, before the doctor even speaks.
he’s dead.
and it’s her fault.
the hard yank on his hair snaps sukuna straight back into the present. music crashes through the field while people scream their heads off around them. yuuji sitting on top of sukuna’s shoulders has one hand gripping sukuna’s phone while the other fully tugs on his brothers hair to keep balance.
“GRAMPS DO YOU SEE HIM?!” yuuji screams into the phone loud enough to blow out the speaker.
gramps voice crackles back immediately. “you keep shaking the damn phone!” the camera angle violently jerks around. all yuuji can see is the top half of the old man’s forehead shoved way too close to the screen. “stay still!”
“OHHHHHHHHH!!!!” yuuji completely loses his mind the second choso steps up to the mic again.
the entire field erupts with him.
ino’s drums shake through the speakers while the guitars kick in harder, the stage lights flashing over choso and his band as they absolutely light up the crowd. even nanami cups his hands around his mouth to yell, whatever dignity he usually carries cracking under the sheer energy of the performance. gojo screams something incomprehensible beside him. geto laughs while shoving him. megumi claps from toji’s shoulders with far more enthusiasm than he’d ever show on a regular day.
and somehow yuuji’s excitement finally drags sukuna with it. the tension in his chest loosens for the first time all night as yuuji bursts into louder cheering.
the two brothers start yelling toward the stage together, voices getting swallowed by the music and chaos around them while choso stands under the lights. and sukuna’s resolve hits him that very moment too.
he’s not letting these two out of his sight.
the celebrations, surprisingly, continued through the night until all the performers were done.
sukuna and the boys watched in the audience as all the bands crowded onto the stage and the promoters stood in the middle with a list and began announcing the six bands that will be proceeding to the semi-finals in two weeks.
“DEATH PAINTINGS DEATH PAINTINGS DEATH PAINTING!” yuuji starts the cheers, sitting back on sukuna’s shoulders. the rest quickly join, and as the four bands are announced, the chanting grows louder. the crowd joining, a universal want for choso’s band, death paintings, to be one of the semi-finalists.
“and the final band to make it into the semi finals is….” the host waits for the anticipation to simmer, but it’s not realized with how unbelievably loud the chanting has gotten for different bands, but the loudest being for— “DEATH PAINTINGS!!”
—
the culmination of celebration among the group extends to choso. him and his two friends are on cloud nine after the announcement, riding the adrenaline. somehow, choso manages to push everything else aside that almost swallowed the entire night.
people keep stopping him before he can even take three steps, congratulating the band, asking questions, slapping him on the back. toji leaves before everyone else, megumi staying behind with the group as security pushes the crowd out of the venue field and toward the beach nearby. bonfires burn in the distance and music continues from portable speakers.
everyone was distracted, except sukuna. his decision settled during the performance and by the time they return home, well after midnight, the house felt exhausted. choso’s friends immediately crash his room. megumi sleeping in yuuji’s room without complaint. doors shut, voices fading until silence settles over the house.
sukuna sits alone at the kitchen table. the only light comes from his laptop screen.
the black envelope sits beside it. opened.
a thick paper rests beneath his hand as he reads the letter again for what must be the hundredth time. an invitation. the one he’s waited to receive again for the past five years.
a la liga club. three weeks training with one of the best clubs in the world. three weeks that could change his entire future. the letter might as well weigh a hundred pounds. for weeks, sukuna pushed away replying, even when everyone brought it up. he had more pressing things at the front of his mind….
his eyes drift toward the hallway where his brothers sleep. a few months ago the answer would’ve been simple. obvious, even…but since kaori, everything’s changed.
his jaw tightens as his fingers move across the keyboard.
Dear Recruitment Team,
Thank you for extending the invitation. I am honored by the opportunity and would like to formally accept.
But before finalizing travel arrangements, I would like to discuss one logistical matter. I am the primary caretaker of my two younger brothers and am responsible for their supervision and wellbeing during the summer. As a result, I will not be able to travel without them and would like to ask whether accommodations can be made for my brothers to accompany me during the three-week training period. Their presence would not interfere with my participation in training or any club obligations.
his eyes narrow, reading over the email. he isn’t asking, he already knows what he’s doing. if the club says yes, yuuji and choso are coming. end of discussion. if they don’t…then. his fingers flex, veins straining.
both outcomes will result in consequences. the first is choso, but after today, he doesn’t care if choso throws a fit, or if he gets called controlling or insane. he isn’t leaving them behind after tonight and remembering exactly how fast everything can disappear.
his fingers resume moving.
I understand this is an unusual request, but I wanted to address it before confirming. If necessary, I would be happy to discuss the situation further and provide any information you may need.
Thank you again for this opportunity. I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Ryomen Sukuna Itadori
sukuna leans back in his chair and stares at the ceiling. for a moment, the silent churning deep in his chest twists… the lingering feeling that’s been pushed returning. a familiar one that’s ruled his life for years. bad things happen whether you’re ready or not. people leave whether you hold onto them or not. life keeps moving whether you’re scared of it or not. and if that’s true—
his gaze drops back to the laptop. the cursor hovers over the send button. the house remains completely silent. inside their rooms, his brothers sleep peacefully, completely unaware that their summer plans are about to change.
SEND
the email vanishes.
for several seconds he simply stares at the screen. then he reaches over, grabs the black envelope, and crushes it in his fist. three weeks in spain. suck it up.
—
the following two weeks went by with a breeze. aside from two separate incidents in two completely different places. one unraveled in the itadori household a few days after the battle of the bands tournament, and the second was in a certain hospital staircase that same day.
your jaw tenses. shoko quietly stands beside you, your hands tucked behind your backs. a resident stands across from you while an attending stands front and center. the staircase feels too small and you already know this isn’t about a patient, glancing at shoko beside you.
the attending, your father, removes his glasses, folding them in his hand. “you know why we’re having this conversation?”
you shift your weight, shoko glances at you. heat crawls up from the back of your neck. you finally respond with a small shrug. the resident cringes, your father doesn’t. “you asked shoko to ask a resident physician to prescribe medication to you.”
you swallow thickly biting your cheek. shoko opens her mouth, but your dad holds a hand up.
“I’ll give you a chance. I’m asking her to answer first.” you can feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to meet his gaze. which you do.
“i asked a question,” you clear your throat. “I was asking shoko to ask for me.”
“you put them in an inappropriate position,” he cuts, silencing you in seconds.
your chest tightens, heat spreading to your face now. the embarrassment sits heavy on your chest now. you see shoko try to raise her hand beside you again.
“can I—“ the attending finally turns his head to shoko. “we were just talking.” she clears her throat, “we both didn’t know what the policy was on—“
“the policy is your supervisors can’t prescribe you medication,” he snaps.
shoko nods, glancing at the resident, who’s supervising this summer’s undergrad students, including her and you. “yeah, I was told.”
you scratch your wrist awkwardly, “I didn’t mean to put anyone in an…inappropriate position.” you wet your lip, pushing the coil crawling up your throat. “it won’t happen again.”
he processes your apology. his eyes flick to the resident and shoko, dismissing them. shoko glances at you as she follows the resident out, the staircase door shutting behind her. the silence grows louder with just the two of you. you inhale sharply, your head falling back, hands covering your face.
“dad—“
“do you need a new prescription?”
“no,” you cut, hands shielding you from his gaze.
“then why did you ask? have you spoken to your doctor about this?”
“I’m not—“ you stop, taking a deep breath. “I don’t need another prescription. and I told you already I’ve been talking to my doctor. I was just asking a question— I was just stressed.”
“why? you’ve done all this before,” he cuts, brows furrowed, and arms crossed in confusion.
“I’m stressed about other stuff,” you exhale, hands falling, face still burning from the humiliation earlier.
“what other stuff?” he pushes. genuinely confused about what you could be worrying about. “you don’t have classes or exams. you know everything. if you have any questions you can ask me—“
“yeah, I’m worried about other stuff, like generally,” you huff, rubbing your face. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“you’re not taking any medication now?” he changes the subject back, brushing off your concerns to push his own out, “jennie told me you weren’t when she visited.”
your teeth clench, rubbing your eye, “yeah, I don’t need it anymore. I haven’t had them since finals.”
his eyes narrow, you can see the concern pinching his brows. “I don’t have a problem if you still need to take them. you know that—“
“yeah, but I don’t need them,” your stomach curls tighter, especially when he glances over you like…like you’re causing him more stress. it’s confusing, you know tjat. saying you don’t need any more medication, but then asking a resident a question about whether they can give you some for stress. it doesn’t make sense, and at this point you’re getting frustrated with yourself. “it’s not a big deal. next time I just won’t ask anyone anything,” you mutter.
“we’re having a conversation, so don’t do that,” he shakes his head in disappointment. the pit in your stomach growing at the sight. “I want to understand why you asked.”
you stomach churns, “it’s fine.”
the silence stretches between you, then you finally decide to leave.
“you should go home,” he steps to block the door.
you barely blink, the comment rolling off your back as you hum. “great.”
your father exhales through his nose. “i’m serious.”
“i know.”
“you don’t sound like you know.”
your jaw tightens, ignoring the passive aggressive tone. “can i go now?” you ask.
he stares at you for another second before stepping aside. the staircase door swings open and you leave. your shoes slap against the floor as you move through the hallway. nurses pass, residents pass, families pass, and it all irritates you. you don’t even realize how fast you’re walking until another set of footsteps catches up beside you.
“hey.” you don’t look over. shoko keeps a quick pace beside you anyway. “hey.”
“what?” you stop.
the word comes out harsher than intended. shoko is unfazed, “i’m sorry.”
you glance at her. the two of you standing by the lockerroom. “for what?”
“for telling the resident.”
“yeah well you didn’t tell on me.”
“still.”
you put the code in before entering the locker room, shoko follows. “still what? i asked a question and apparently that’s illegal.”
“that’s not what i mean,” shoko sits on the bench as you take your backpack out.
you sigh, “i know what you meant.” you start changing. “it’s just annoying that I was scolded like that and I didn’t even wanna do this stupid ass program in the first place. no offense,” you start rambling. “but seriously, how many times does this make it—like the fifth freaking time I get yelled at in front of these residents and I haven’t even done anything that crazy. asking a question?! god forbid!” you throw your hands up in sarcastic defense. you scoff at the situation rolling your eyes.
“this whole thing is just a humiliation ritual of being a fucking doormat, and having every single person around me be the biggest ops ever—not you,” you put your shirt on, pulling your jeans up right after. “let’s bet how much shit I’m gonna get if I just mention to jennie how annoyed I am,” you roll your eyes, knowing exactly what she’ll say. “if yOU doN’t LiKe it sO mUCh jusT qUiT,” you mimic her voice.
shoko, who has been quietly listening, stifles her own laugh. “why do you let her get under your skin?”
you deadpan. “she is the only person that can ragebait me until i wanna tear my hair out,” you’re basically clawing at your skin. “can’t even complain about anything anymore,” you mutter more to yourself. “whatever.”
shoko gives you a sympathetic look.
“call me when you finish, I’ll come pick you up,” you conclude, waiting for shoko’s hum before leaving.
and just a few miles away, another incident was unfolding in the itadori garage.
“what?” choso’s voice cuts through the room. “you’re lying.”
“you don’t want a free vacation?”
“it’s not a free anything! i’m not going to spain! the tournament—”
“yeah, the finals are the day before our flight, still lying—”
“i’m not lying! when we win we’re gonna be meeting with producers and stuff—”
“and stuff,” sukuna laughs. “you can zoom in.”
“that’s not the same thing!”
“sounds the same.”
“it literally isn’t!”
the garage erupts. the old fan rattles uselessly in the corner, guitar cables snake across the floor and choso stands in the middle, face red with frustration while sukuna lounges against the workbench like this is the funniest thing he’s heard all week.
“i’m not missing opportunities because you’re going to spain!” choso shouts.
sukuna shrugs, “good thing i’m not asking.”
“you can’t do that!”
“watch me.”
“ryomen!”
“choso!”
the younger teen looks seconds away from committing a felony, his jaw tightens, anger bubbling dangerously, “you’re possessively controlling.”
“shocker,” sukuna replies lowly, checking his phone after it buzzes.
“you can’t just drag people across the world!”
“sure i can.”
“i’m sixteen!”
“exactly.”
choso makes a strangled noise just as the garage door suddenly slides open.
“hey, i brought—” ino freezes, a pizza box hangs from one hand. his eyes dart between the brothers. “…oh.”
“tell him he’s insane!” choso shouts, voice cracking and pointing at the tattooed brother lounged in the corner on his phone.
“tell him i’m right,” sukuna says at the same time with less effort as his younger brother.
ino slowly starts backing out. “nope.”
choso’s jaw clenches, “ino.”
ino shakes his head more, “no.”
“ino,” choso’s words strain.
“naaahhhh man.” the teen points at both of them, pizza box fumbling. “last time i got involved in your family drama i got interrogated by psycho satan.” he means sukuna.
“that’s dramatic,” sukuna snorts.
“you threatened me,” ino huffs.
“that’s different,” sukuna casually scratches his large tatted bicep, with an added shrug.
ino frowns, “how is that different?!”
suluna shrugs, while the younger teen throws his hands in the air, choso’s black hair is messy and pushed out of his face from how much he’s run his hands through it. “he accepted the offer!”
“what offer?” ino asks.
“the spain one,” choso frowns, and sukuna eyes dart up, not realizing how many people knew about this offer. ino blinks, lips parting and eyes lighting up.
“…spain spain?”
“yes, spain spain,” choso snaps.
“like beaches?”
“yes.”
“europe?”
“yes!”
“yoooooo,” ino is smiling wide now, stepping further into the garage. “that’s so cool!”
“dude—“ choso snaps.
ino cringes, but the smile doesn’t go away, “sorry, but like DAAAAANG, remember a couple years ago, we talked about it—duuude,” ino’s attention shifts to sukuna, smiling wide. “congrats!!”
“what—stop glazing him!” choso interrupts, and ino holds back his tongue, conflicted.
“cool but like yeah, no, that’s actually insane, why does choso needa go with you? not cool,” ino falls in line.
choso relaxes just a bit, “thank you.”
“but also…” ino hesitates, and choso’s eyes narrows immediately.
“don’t.”
ino puts the pizza on the table, shrugging, “i’m just saying—”
“ino.”
“i mean…spain is kinda sick,” he plays devils advocate. and sukuna barks out a laugh.
“ino!” choso looks ready to throw his guitar right at his best friend. “you never help, shit friend.”
“he’ll get over it,” sukuna says to ino, who feels slightly guilty, opening the box to take out a slice while it’s hot.
“i won’t!” choso shouts, putting his guitar down.
sukuna ignores him, “he will.”
“i won’t!”
“you always do.” the words come out too casual, and for half a second, the garage falls quiet. choso’s jaw tightens, and sukuna’s grin fades slightly, watching his younger brother’s expression shift, the anger burning hotter. the same anger claws at sukuna’s own chest remebering why he has to force choso to come with him.
“I’m staying with gramps,” choso’s voice is lower. his own brain trying to wrap around the sudden information. he hadn’t even known that his brother accepted the offer when he wouldn’t even talk to anyone about it. and to find out he accepted it and was told it’s okay for him to bring his brothers without even asking him?!
“gramps is going to the lake with his war buds like he does every summers so yeah, you’re not staying here alone.” sukuna tsks, standing up. he glares at choso across the garage, waiting for choso to test him. the tension suddenly hits ino full force. the bickering had turned into something charged in a matter of seconds. his chewing slows, awkwardly.
“I’ll stay with ino,” choso pushes, eyes darting between sukuna’s.
“this lying shit?” sukuna scoffs pointing at ino without glancing at him.
ino chokes, coughing, “me?!!”
sukuna frowns, eyes narrowing sharply, “I fucking asked you if he saw that bitch of mom and you said no. that constitutes as lying.”
ino lowers his head.
“I told him not to say anything,” choso defends, “he’s my friend.”
“exactly why you’re not staying with him because he’ll lie and I won’t know if you see that woman again or not.” sukuna takes a step towards his brother.
“i took money from her,” choso tilts his head, clearly not afraid of the older as his eyes narrow. “I’m gonna give her that money back.”
“I don’t give a shit if you don’t or if you take more money from her. she owes you and yuuji a shit ton of money anyways,” sukuna stops in front of choso. an unknown look crossing the man’s face, and choso hesitates for a moment. “I have a problem that she laid her hands on you.”
choso’s jaw clenches, stepping away. “I stole money from her.”
“so you think you deserve to get hit?” sukuna snaps. choso rolls his eyes, grabbing a slice of pizza, forcing himself to act casual. “she’s a toxic psycho.”
“whatever, man,” choso mutters, dismissing the conversation about his mother. an uncomfortable twist settling deep in his stomach making him slightly nauseous. “I don’t wanna talk about her with you.”
“why because I don’t sugarcoat how horrible she is?” sukuna scoffs. choso’s defensive attitude quietly triggers the older. choso rolls his eyes again, gaze locked at the pizza, but sukuna catches it and ino sinks further in the corner. “stupid ass teen,” sukuna grabs his keys from his pocket, walking towards the door, opening the garage. “fucking proving my damn point by acting stupid as fuck.”
sukuna scoffs, pissing himself off as the memories of this woman flood his mind. jaw tensing as he looks at choso turning away from him. “mothers don’t beat their kids, and she was more of dad’s fucking mental patient than a mom to you”
“how the fuck would you know!” choso finally snaps. “your mom left and my mom isn’t yours, I have my own memories!”
“the ones when you were two?” sukuna scoffs, walking towards the parked pick-up truck. “I doubt you remember shit before you were twelve,” sukuna says the comment without realizing the flame he lit.
“I remember you going to jail too and losing your first club offer,” choso spits. “great example compared to her. definitely my role model!”
sukuna stops dead in his tracks, jaw tightening, he glances over his shoulder and choso doesn’t back down. “you’re more like her than me or yuuji are, so it’s pretty hypocritical that I’m being forced to go to spain with another psycho.”
mechamaru had just parked his car and is exiting when he hears the yelling from his friend’s open driveway. ino has attempted to blend in with the couch, empty plate in his lap while choso’s chest heaves. the strings in his heart strain ignoring the unfamiliar look on his brothers face. especially when sukuna fiddles with his keys with one hand, the jangling fills the tense air, before sukuna licks his teeth.
“at least I’ve never hit you guys.”
the response is deeply honest that choso pauses, unable to respond. sukuna swings his keys between his fingers, rubbing the back of his neck and walking down the driveway. he passes mechamaru silently, unlocking his truck.
the teens are left in defending silence minutes after sukuna’s already driven away. ino and mechamaru exchange looks, especially when choso disappears into the house to wash his face.
at some point the houses thin out and the ocean appears. the clouds hang low and heavy overhead, turning the late afternoon gray. rain threatening to fall any minute. sukuna parks in an empty lot overlooking the beach and kills the engine. his hands are locked around the steering wheel, staring straight ahead.
you’re more like her than me or yuuji are.
his jaw aches. choso hadn’t even sounded afraid when he said it, he was angry enough to mean it. sukuna drags both hands over his face, wishing he can claw at everything. “fuck.”
the word disappears, waves crashing against the shore, ahead as his phone vibrates inside. and miles away, parked beside an empty field, you do the same.
the hospital sits somewhere behind you, and your home is in the opposite direction, and neither destination sounds appealing. the engine is off. the windows are cracked. summer wind drifts through the car as you stare at absolutely nothing. your father’s voice rings around your skull making you rest your head against the window. you don’t want to go home or go back or do anything.
eventually your phone lights up.
after another few minutes of staring at the ocean, his hand finally reaches for his phone. notifications flood the screen, group chats, soccer shit, gojo being annoying, something from toji, and his thumb scrolls through the usual unopened messages until he sees a certain contact.
his thumb stops. three days ago.
crybaby: where’s the video of your brother’s band?
his gaze lingers. for some reason, that message irritates him less than everything else. he opens the chat and for a moment he considers not responding, his thumb mindlessly scrolls through your earlier conversation, until the photo you sent him fills his screen.
dumbass: they made it to the semifinals
a beat passes..
dumbass: i forgot to send the video
your phone vibrates against the passenger seat making you glance down and see his name, and despite the day you’ve had, despite everything, your chest loosens just a little.
crybaby: woww
crybaby: a whole 3 days later
crybaby: i was starting to think u hated me
sukuna snorts. his head tips back against the seat. outside, thunder rumbles somewhere over the water.
dumbass: good guesser
you roll your eyes, holding back a smile.
crybaby: haha u’re soo funny
sukuna scrolls through his camera roll. easily finding the video gojo had taken and sending it to you. you heart the message, and a few minutes later the texts flood in.
crybaby: WHAAAA
crybaby: WTHHHH UR BROTHER IS SO GOOD
dumbass: u def thought they were gonna be ass
crybaby: ngl…I wasn’t expecting much
dumbass: rude
crybaby: ONLY BC I’ve gone to a few in the past and RARELY r they ever good
crybaby: NO OFFENSE
dumbass: I’m offended
you don’t realize the smile on your face as you watch another video sukuna sends. relaxing back in your seat, jaw agape.
crybaby: no like actually wth — ur brother’s voice is making me tear up
crybaby: it’s so angelic esp for a hard rock band
sukuna snorts.
dumbass: crybaby
crybaby: did I say CRY? I said TEAR UP smh smhh
a few beats pass, not long enough for you to fully exit your messages, but long enough to watch the little typing bubble appear then disappear, and then your face fills your screen.
….incoming FaceTime from dumbass….
your lips part, cheeks warming as you easily click accept, the call connecting. sukuna’s face fills your screen, the camera angle is terrible, but somehow he still looks unfairly attractive.
the lighting inside the truck is dim from the storm clouds outside, shadows cutting across the sharp lines of his face. his pink hair looks soft, a few strands hang loose across his forehead. his tattoos disappear beneath the collar of his black shirt, the dark markings curling up the side of his neck. his forearm rests against the driver’s side window, broad shoulders, strong jaw—you hate how hot he looks.
on the other side of the call, sukuna feels much the same.
he expected your voice, but there’s something about seeing your face. your hair is slightly messy from your long day. you’re leaning sideways against the drivers seat, cheek pressed against the headrest of your car seat. golden evening light spills through the window in front of you, softening everything. you look tired, but pretty…really pretty. something in his chest loosens.
your eyes blink slowly, then narrow, “what happened to your face?”
sukuna’s brow furrows, “what?”
you lean closer to the camera, “your eye.”
his hand immediately comes up, glancing at the mirror in front of him. forgetting about the faint bruise caused by toji a few days ago, and barely noticeable to anyone except apparently you.
his fingers brush beneath it. “nothing.”
you stare and sukuna stares looks back at his phone, “that’s not nothing.”
“it’s nothing.”
“yeah definitely,” you sarcastically quip.
“it’s literally nothing.” your expression flattens. his matches yours instantly. neither of you budge. the silence stretches then—
“did you get punched?”
the offended look that flashes across his face almost makes you laugh. “the fuck kind of question is that?” he snaps.
you shrug fast, “it’s a valid question.”
“no it isn’t.”
“it is, since that’s what people who get punched in the face look like,” you say, like you’re some expert.
“speaking from experience?” he tosses, irritation scratching at your questions.
“yeah,” you lie, and he probably knows that, but still he leans back in his seat again. “it definitely looks like you got a bruise.”
“yeah, because i play a contact sport,” he huffs. you squint suspiciously as he rolls his eyes so hard it physically pains him. “gojo elbowed me in the middle of a game.”
“see?” you point triumphantly. “that wasn’t hard.”
sukuna tsks, “you’re annoying.”
“i was curious,” you shrug.
“it’s a bruise.”
“on your face.”
“you sound like yuuji.” the corner of his mouth twitches, barely there, but enough for the tightness in both of your chests to ease just a little. your lips part, still looking at the bruise.
“does it hurt?” your voice is softer, allowing something warm to settle in sukuna’s chest.
a smirk tugs on the players lips. “yeah. you gonna come make me feel better?” the teasing has your thighs clenching. his voice is low, deep, watching your eyes dart off screen. “where are you right now?”
you shift in your seat, flipping the camera to do a 360 of your surroundings. sukuna notices your bag in the passenger seat, “you get off work?”
“yup left early,” you flip the camera back, your phone on your lap as you fix your necklace in the mirror.
“you ditched?”
you laugh, “no,” you pick your phone back up, “I was kicked out.”
sukuna whistles. “bad girl. what’d you do?”
you shrug, leaning back in your seat, “I punched a patient.”
sukuna’s eyes blow wide, “you’re lying.”
you snort, “obviously,” you smile, pretty lips glossy as you wet them. “just had a chat with my dad and he told me to go home.”
“are you home?”
you shake your head, tilting just a bit as you watch sukuna through the phone. the silence fills both your environments. “doesn’t look like you’re home.”
“got work soon,” he answers, eyeing the curve of your jaw as you look out the window as if you weren’t parked in a deserted lot. still he can’t help the churning in his stomach as you fiddle with your earrings, lips parting again.
“so you gotta go soon?”
sukuna can’t fully read your emotions through a shitty phone screen, but he can catch the slight sweetness in your tone. and that was enough to pull a subtle smirk from him. he’s fully resting his back against his seat, arm propped on the open window holding his phone, while the other rests on his lap.
“I have some time,” he tilts his head, eyes narrowing a tad when you hum. “you have something in mind?”
you wet your lip, eyes twinkling as you nod your head. “yeah, i wanted to ask you a question.” he smirks, letting you continue. “how fast did you cum when i sent you that picture on saturday?” sukuna’s smile falters. “because you sent me a pic like three minutes later.”
you really love to push his buttons. the scowl is written all over his face. “i was already on edge, so i was doing it for awhile before you even sent it.”
your smile grows, if possible, a devilish twinkle in your eyes. “so i really helped you cum, ryo, hmm?” you wet your lip, and the action, coupled up with your sultry tone, has sukuna’s pants growing tight, “you made a big mess. cumming all over yourself like that,” you tsk, teasingly. “do you always make a big mess when you play by yourself?”
sukuna’s jaw tightens, his crotch swelling from your teasing. the bulge pushing up against his jeans, just as his palm digs against the evidence. unable to hide the fact that you’re turning him on.
“don’t be embarrassed, ry,” you coo with faux sweetness. “big boys make messes too.”
a loud, strangled scoff, escapes the man’s mouth. cheeks hot, as you continue degrading him. “suddenly y’er all confident because I can’t pin you down from here?”
you shrug, little smirk still playing on those pretty lips of yours. fuck, he misses having those lips on him. kissing you deeply, swallowing your whines and strangled moans. “am I not allowed to make you feel better?”
“fucking teasing me,” he grunts, jaw tightening as he palms his bulge.
heat pools between your legs, face warm as you see his shifting. “did I make you hard?” the excitement was obvious in your tone.
“don’t act surprised,” he mutters, flipping the camera to see the big bulge he’s gripping over his jeans. sukuna see’s the dizzy like look you have, lips parting.
“take it out.”
he smirks. you’re a little perv. and not so surprisingly, you see the uncoordinated moving as he unbuckles his belt, the phone dropping then getting raised again to see the way he pushes the waistband of his black Calvin’s, dragging it down. his dark pubes not as well groomed as it usually is, and that has you biting back a whimper.
fuck fuck, you miss pressing your face there, licking the coarse hairs, kissing his base.
and finally his hand wraps around the chubby length, freeing his semi-hard cock in his car. thunder cracks in the distant, rain starting to pour.
“gonna keep telling me what to do, or do you want closeups?” he teases, stroking his base lazily, biting his lip.
you shift in your seat.
“spit on it—“
you already see his spit fly and hit his flushed cock, immediately making your cheeks sting.
“c’mon, gotta keep talkin’ to me like my personal slut,” he hasn’t done anything since spitting on his cock, waiting for you to continue your directions. if you’re gonna act all dominant, then he’ll give you all the control…at least when you’re separated by a phone screen.
“stroke your cock…slow,” you command, wetting your lip as you watch him, and he listens. a wave of quiet confidence floods your head at his submission. “rub your slit with your thumb…yeah…” your lips part watching him stroke his cock. “faster.”
his breath is heavy behind the phone, grip tightening when he reaches the base, before twisting his hand back up, thumb collecting his pre and spreading it to the rest of his cock.
“do you usually jerk off like this?” your lewd curiosity always makes him smirk.
“I’m taking your direction.”
“jerk off like you usually do then…I wanna see,” you interrupt.
he snorts, loosening his jaw, before his pace picks up, tugging on his impressive size, collecting more pre and doing his best to self lubricate. his grunts are slightly louder, sending heat to your pussy, you can already feel your drenched panties.
“let go.”
a strangled noise comes out of him as his hand lets go making his cock bob between his legs, his thighs flex, jaw tightening as more pre cum leaks out in humiliation. “fuck.” he runs his hand on his abs, lifting his shirt higher, watching his own cock throb and twitch mid-air. the weight angling his cock down.
“ow!”
he doesn’t fully realize what you’re doing, until you yelp. his brows pinch, eyes narrowing because your phone is no longer on your face, but on the ceiling of your car.
“what’re you doing?” his words fall on deaf ears, when you’re suddenly lifting the camera back up, and revealing the state you’re in. you’re completely naked from the waist down, shirt pushed above those beautiful tits, and your lips all wet from how much your biting them. “fuck, baby.”
you smile, pushing the drivers seat further back to give yourself space, cheeks hot as you spread your legs. “lemme see your face, ryomen.”
he easily flips the camera back. you blush seeing the pink dusting his cheeks. “you like risky stuff,” he points.
“I’m alone.”
“still public.”
your lips part, rubbing your nipple, slowly teasing yourself. his eyes darken, gaze darting between your face and those beautiful perky nipples he wishes he could suck this very second. fuck, when you’d run your nails through his hair when he’d bite your perky buds and you’d moan so sweetly.
“you’re not even twisting them hard enough,” he tsks, watching you play with yourself…incorrectly. “how often do you touch yourself.”
“not as often as you touch me.”
sukuna chokes. you’re way too fast for him, and it catches him off guard every once in a awhile. he quickly recovers, “show me how wet you are.”
you listen, managing to face the passenger seat and have the phone propped on your bag.
“aw, you’re dripping,” he coos, biting his lip, as you run your fingers through the mess, spreading your pretty folds for him. “dirty girl,” he groans, hand sneaking down to his twitching hard cock—
“don’t touch yourself,” you cut possessively. “it’s my turn.”
“I didn’t even cum,” he tsks, but still eases back, thick legs spreading wider as he watches you shrug. “fine, lemme see how many fingers you can put in that little pussy.”
“one.”
“I said: let me see,” his voice drops an octave and that has you clenching and blushing all over. “lick your finger.”
you lean close to the camera, making a show of caressing your plump bottom lip, then easing your middle finger in. your suck the digit, eyes heavy as they look directly at sukuna. he silently watches, jaw loosening as he tries his best to keep his hand away, especially when you pull your middle finger out, flipping him off.
“cute,” he smirks, screenshotting. “put it in.” he tilts his head, humming as you sit back just a little. he eyes the way you open your legs, running your finger down your body, before circling your clit. your lips part and sukuna notices the way your back arches just a bit, finally pushing in, “theere we go.”
you hum along, jaw agape as you curl your finger in slowly pumping your finger. it’s not the same though. you hate having to do this shit yourself, it would kill the mood if sukuna wasn’t praising you on the other line.
“fuck, your pussy looks so pretty,” he groans, “so hot.”
you bite back a moan, lashes fluttering as you move your finger back to your clit. unaware of the disappointment until you hear a loud tsk.
“why’d you take your finger out?” sukuna barks.
you frown, still rubbing your clit, “It doesn’t feel as good.”
“bullshit,” he huffs, “put two fingers in.” your cheeks flush hot, collecting your arousal on your finger and teasing your hole again. “fuck your pussy like I told ya too.”
you wet your lips with attitude he can clearly read, especially when you add a sarcastic, “yes, sir.”
pre oozes from the brute’s twitching cock.
still, his eyes narrow with lust as he watches you dip your pretty little fingers in that tight hole. it’s always the initial stretch that has your lips parting. “keep moving your fingers. curl ‘em,” he husks, voice much lower and sexier, unbelievably turned on. “dirty girl fingerin’ herself in her car.”
you whine, back pressed against the door, as you angle your hips up, back arching as you continue fingering yourself, especially when you curl them and finally feel that spot. “got it?”
your glossy lips part, nodding, “y-yeah haah—ry-touch y’rself to me.“
fuck.
he doesn’t waste a second grabbing his cock and working himself up to the pace you’ve set. his own jaw clenches, watching your legs tremble as you pump your pretty fingers in and out, watching the way your fingers glisten every time you pull out, pretty nipples all hard and exposed, and lips glossy.
his thigh trembles, jaw tensing as he squeezes his base, holding himself back as you pull your fingers out to stimulate your neglected clit.
“good girl,” he husks under his breath, unaware of how much he enjoys watching you and getting jealous from nothing. you respond with a heavy sigh, tongue poking out as you feel yourself getting closer.
“gun- cum with me…ry-haah?”
he starts working his chubby cock, wishing to death he can feel the heat of your pussy against his swollen tip. “yeah, keep working those little fingers, make yourself cum.”
your whine pitches a little higher in the small car. thighs spreading wider as you stimulate your clit, oblivious to the low praises sukuna is muttering, feeling his heavy balls clench up. and just as your about to reach the edge, toes curling in your shoes, your phone tips over, hitting the ground just as sukuna hears you moan—
“anhh—“
“what the fuck!?”
you whine, back hitting the door as your legs close around your hand. lips parted as your chest rises with each heavy breath. you don’t even realize what happened until you hear your name being called, followed be another “where the fuck did you go?!”
your brows furrow, glancing at where your phone once was, then to its place on the floor of the passenger side. “oh.”
you move over the center, reaching down to lift your phone, and the moment your face comes to view, sukuna’s jaw tenses more.
“you came?”
your lips part sitting back in your seat. “yeah, I think i accidentally kicked my bag. did you cu—“
“no.” he cuts sharply. you suck your lips in to refrain from laughing. “cum again.”
your brows rise. “I can’t.”
sukuna barks out a humorless laugh. “I always make you cum more than once—“
“yeah, YOU—not ME. I don’t know how to overstimulate myself,” you reach for some tissues to clean yourself off camera. but sukuna groans loudly, cock throbbing as he works himself. “just imagine me cumming.”
his jaw locks, head tipping back so you can get a perfect shot of his sharp jaw. the silence stretches for a second before sukuna opens his mouth, refusing to look at his phone, missing the way your lips part, and face burns.
“talk into the phone then.”
your stomach flips with something you don’t want to name, especially when he tilts his head back clearly still working his monster of a cock that’s painfully red. “I’m close. speak.”
the command has you closing your thighs tighter, raising the phone to your lips, inhaling slowly, controlling the butterflies.
another beat passes before you finally begin.
“my fingers are so wet after cumming…” you dramatize a gentle sigh, “my pussy is so empty…I need your big fat cock filling my tight…little…pussy…ryo.”
“fuck,” sukuna’s jaw clenches harder, abs tightening as he aggressively twists his hand up his cock, thumb digging into his slit, much more aggressive than how you’d touch his cock, but he just needs to cum.
“can’t wait to see you, ryomen,” you exhale sweetly, adding a little pitched hum, “want you to use my pussy like it’s your pretty toy,” you blush at your own words, keeping it just a little over a whisper because if it was any louder than you might melt into the seat with embarrassment. but sukuna’s strained, low grunts, is reassuring. “fuck me until I can’t move, kiss me until I can’t breathe…you wanna kiss me right, pretty boy?” your cheeks sting viscously at the pet name that casually rolled off your tongue—
but then, a long deep groan comes from the back of the 6’4 footballer’s throat.
your entire body catches on fire, and a smile quietly tugs at the corners of your lips.
“you wanna kiss me that bad, baby?” you tease lightly, and even though sukuna refuses to reply, his strangled grunts, and sounds of his squelching cock being tugged, is enough reassurance to give you that final sentence that pushes him off the edge. “you also wanna stuff my pretty pussy right: wanna fill me with your thick…heavy cum, don’t you ryo?” you bite your lip the moment you hear the choke on the other end.
you quietly listen, pulling your phone to see that sukuna’s phone is forgotten in his lap. your finger playing at your lip, still smiling, waiting for sukuna to come down from his orgasm.
the man’s jaw is locked. head tipped back against the head rest. chest heaving. and face burning with a light shade of pink.
“you cum?” you break the silence, tone laced with something that twists in sukuna’s gut. the phone shifts, your face unable to stop your smile when you see his flushed face. your fingers still playing with your lips with faux innocence.
“yeah.” his clipped tone isn’t too harsh, but definitely shielding something else as he looks down at the mess. his jaw tenses seeing his cum covering his hand and splattered on the steering wheel. even if the phone is on his face, you can see the way his eyes are looking past it.
“you made a mess?”
he licks his teeth, eyes catching yours. “yeah.”
dang he’s cold. is he embarrassed? a warmth settles in your tummy at the thought. it’s hard to read him, but it’s even harder when it’s through the phone. either way, you shift around your car, putting your panties and pants back on and pulling your shirt down, fixing your bra. on the other end, sukuna is pulling his shirt off, and using it to clean the mess he made. jaw tensing every time your voice rings in his head again.
“who taught you how to talk like that?” he raises his hips pulling his pants back up, tucking his softening cock in.
your brow quirks lightly, “nobody lol,” you look back at your phone. “I was just going with the flow,” you smirk, head tilting just a bit that the man freezes, stomach flipping at the pretty sight on his phone and he instinctively just….*screenshot* “was I good?”
he makes a grumbling noise, then, “made me cum.”
“so, good?”
he rolls his eyes, “sure.” he ignores your smile as he finishes cleaning his mess. the buzzing of your phone interrupting. “you have to go?”
you hum, “yeah, gotta pick up shoko.” you text her that you’re on your way. sukuna looks back at his phone as he starts his car up, you do the same. “I’ll talk to you later, then.”
and the second sukuna gives an affirmative hum, you hang up.
as the days pass. neither one of you found your stress levels steady. instead, you were tested again and again, more rejection emails coming in for writing and producing programs you applied too for the summer. and as was sukuna with his brother’s attitude, especially with this weird phase that’s caught his attention with yuuji.
“I thought you were seeing megumi tomorrow?” sukuna glances up from his spot behind the bar, stopping mid-wipe down to see yuuji slinging his backpack on.
“we’re going to the beach today to see them set up before the festival tomorrow,” yuuji mutters, pushing his overgrown hair off his forehead in quiet annoyance.
sukuna’s brows pinch tight, “thought we were gonna do that?”
yuuji shrugs already walking to the back of the bar, large open windows lining the back that overlooks the beach. megumi and nobara wait outside, chatting. “s’fine,” yuuji stops by the door, “choso doesn’t talk to you, and you’re always busy—so whatever.”
sukuna tenses, grip curling around the dirty rag as his little brother turns and leaves. what the fuck?? since when has yuuji been cut and dry with him!?
just as sukuna stresses about his younger siblings, you’re wondering how much longer you have to hold yourself back until you tear your eyes out. another rejection email, that could’ve been the reason why your sudden stress skyrockets and then it immediately crashes after higuruma finally texts you after not hearing anything from him since you first got his number.
[12:34PM] hiromi higuruma: hey this is hiromi
[12:34PM] hiromi higuruma: sorry it’s been awhile but my uncle finally got back to me, he’s free thursday or friday around the afternoon to chat
[12:35PM] hiromi higuruma: lmk which day works so he can put it in his calendar before he gets booked
your lips part, standing outside a patient room staring at your phone. shit. your heart pounds rapidly against your ribs. you work until five everyday. your jaw tenses…just ask if he can do anything after—he can’t. unlike you, people can’t just move things around for you. your fingers quickly tap your screen.
[12:40PM] you: hii
[12:40PM] you: yea friday works for me, would this be a zoom call or phone call?
you see the bubbles appear, then disappear. you shift your weight, stomach churning.
[12:42PM] hiromi higuruma: shit
your stomach drops.
[12:42PM] hiromi higuruma: I forgot—you’re not based in the city?
[12:42PM] you: no, I’m back home for the summer
[12:43PM] you: would it be a problem doing it on zoom?
your back leans against the wall, stomach aching as you wait for his response. seriously, can one thing not work out in your favor?
[12:44PM] hiromi hirguruma: I’ll talk to him, but I think it’s better to wait until you’re back in the city and do it in person
[12:44PM] hiromi higuruma: only saying this bc he forgets everyone he talks too on zoom but he’ll be much more helpful if he meets you face to face, plus you’re a good conversationalist (js from my perspective) so you’d leave a good impression
a beat passes.
[12:45PM] hiromi higuruma: your call tho, i can still talk to him if u want
[12:45PM] hiromi higuruma: he's here all summer, so whenever you're back js Imk and I can set up a meeting
fuck!! your jaw aches, clenching down hard enough to break your teeth. hot tears sting behind your eyes, threatening to spill. you inhale sharply. grinding down harder on your teeth as you squeeze your phone.
what’s the fucking point in meeting with him now if he’ll just forget about you?
[12:47PM] you: oh okay, yeah I think it’s better in person then
[12:47PM] you: I’ll be in the city in august, is that okay?
your heart twists unbelievably tight, nails digging into your palm.
[12:48PM] hiromi higuruma: yeah for sure! and dw I’ll set a meeting up with u and him
almost like he can sense your disappointment through your hesitant texts. he sends another message.
[12:49PM] hiromi higuruma: how’s your summer?
wrong question…
[12:49PM] you: 😀 so good!
the bubbles appear then disappear, then:
[12:50PM] hiromi higuruma: that’s a sarcastic emoji right?
you can’t control the quiet chuckle that slips out.
[12:50PM] you: loll yeah
[12:50PM] you: its fine…working here…with my dad…yayy
higuruma seems to understand your tone as he responds.
[12:51PM] hiromi higuruma: u losing ur mind?
[12:51PM] you: nope
[12:51PM] you: y would u say that (I wanna kms)
[12:51PM] hiromi higuruma: (rip) just a hunch, guess I was wrong
a smile threatens your face.
[12:52PM] hiromi higuruma: don’t stress tho, my uncle has some rlly good connects so he’ll help u out
you bite your cheek, pushing down the anxious twists that’s been eating at you for months. you’re still waiting on another possible opportunity for the second half of summer, but now you’re scared if that falls through, all you’ll have is nanami’s friend’s uncle as a connection..
[12:52PM] you: thanks🥹🙏
[12:53PM] hiromi higuruma: how long is ur program?
[12:53PM] you: till the last week of july so js two-ish more weeksss
[12:54PM] hiromi higuruma: homestretch
[12:54PM] hiromi higuruma: u need a vacation after
[12:54PM] you: TRUSTT
[12:54PM] you: it is in the works🫡 my friends r planning it
[12:55PM] hiromi higuruma: where r u guys going?
you pause, lips parting.
[12:56PM] you: oh….i forgot
[12:56PM] hiromi higuruma: fr?
[12:56PM] you: no frrr shoko just told me to block off the dates but i actually forgot where we’re going bc they were planning it for awhile and i was too busy to pay attention
you cringe, trying to remember where shoko said satoru’s infamous mediterranean summer house is. either way higuruma responds with a cool message, unbothered by your lack of remembrance.
[12:57] hiromi higuruma: well it’s clear u need that vacation then
[12:57PM] you: 😪✊
you don’t realize you’ve basically been standing on your phone for awhile until a resident passes by, eyes flicking down.
“put the phone away before I tell your dad,” he mutters, and though the “joke” has been tossed around multiple times by the residents who know exactly what your relationship is with the chief of surgery, it doesn’t make it any funnier when you heard it the first time or the hundredth time —
your jaw tenses, glancing at your phone to see higuruma’s text.
[12:58PM] hiromi higuruma: make sure to stop in the city after tho and text me ahead of time
[12:58PM] you: i willlll
you shut your phone off, exhaling sharply as your head tips back. at this point…the only thing you’re looking forward to now is this trip. considering the second half of your summer is delayed after pushing this meeting back. and from the looks of it…you highly doubt you’re getting accepted into those writing programs.
“great,” you mutter to yourself.
your feet finally drag you away from the wall, and down the hall. unfortunately the pressure on your chest doesn’t leave, instead your mind quietly moves in circles as you continue the day’s work. unable to remove yourself completely from the stress of your future.
you smile at patients when they greet you. you laugh when shoko mutters something inappropriate under her breath. you still finish your notes, answer questions, make coffee runs, and remember to ask people how their weekends were. nothing is wrong enough for anyone to pull you aside and ask if you’re okay because you’re not falling apart. you’re just…tired. there’s a heaviness that sits beneath your ribs and makes everything feel harder than it should.
even when you check your phone during lunch. your conversation with higuruma sitting near the top of your messages. another month of waiting. another month of this feeling. you lock your phone just as someone calls your name, answering immediately.
it all keeps moving, dragging you along. the routine sucking you in. driving home as shoko talks from the passenger seat about the residents. about a movie she wants to watch. about a patient that yelled at her. about her not fully confident about her mcat studying methods. you nod and laugh, chiming in.
that’s how it goes in the mornings. driving at six am, music playing softly through the speakers. your eyes randomly burning behind your sunglasses, making you blink, unable to stop the tears from gathering for no apparent reason other than you can shake this heaviness on your chest. but it’s easy to wipe beneath your eyes during the red light. shoko doesn’t notice.
even at home, your sister asks how your day is, if you ate, how dad is, and you answer shortly without much thought. jennie watches you for a moment longer. her eyes lingering, opening her mouth like she’s going to say something before deciding against it. especially when you quietly play with yazzy now. playing with her barbie’s clothes in silence, clearly not fully present, but still able to pull a smile for your niece.
“fix her hair now!” yazzy shoves another barbie in your hand, the gum stuck to the ends making you scowl.
“why is there candy all over them?” you lightly scold, making yazzy cover her face with a doll, bashful and guilty.
“it was an accident!” she giggles, making you tsk lightly, giving her a faux disappointed look which earns you another loud giggle from her.
jennie quietly watches from the living room, eyes softening. she’s been gone for some time, but her concerns are present, so when shoko walks into the kitchen, her attention shifts momentarily.
“question,” jennie glances at the brunette. shoko hums, looking over her shoulder from the fridge. “how upset is she? because she’s working with our dad?”
shoko glances at you in the living room, the tv playing masking the conversation in the kitchen. “she hates it.”
jennie hums, looking down at her nails. “she said that?”
shoko nods, “she takes it on the chin though, but yeah…she hates it. she usually complains then feels guilty for complaining.”
that seems to twist something inside jennie, her jaw clenching. “yeah…she’s an idiot.” she mutters, hand rubbing her face. “there’s only so much you can tell her and she still won’t listen.” jennie stands straight. “it’s her life.”
shoko doesn’t respond. instead watching as jennie calls her daughter to head back to the hotel, and once they leave the house quiets, and you’re left alone with yourself.
you brush your teeth while staring into the bathroom mirror, foam gathering at the corners of your mouth as your reflection stares back. the faucet runs as you tilt your head. you look the same…same face, eyes, person — there’s no visible proof that anything is changing beneath your skin. but…you wonder if everyone else feels this way. is everyone secretly mourning versions of themselves they haven’t even become yet. are they walking around pretending everything is okay too? do they also hate where the direction of their lives are heading? can they even see what path they’ve taken—
you spit into the sink, washing your face.
once you crawl into bed, your room finally settles, feeling the darkness press close. and once again, your chest tightens. you think about the mcats. about the future. about all the people your age collecting internships and recommendations and certainty. you think about your father’s anxieties of your future. your mother’s concern. jennie’s harsh words—
you turn onto your side…then your back…then your other side. then…your eyes sting.
the tears build on their own, as they always do. your throat drying as you feel the warm liquid slide onto the pillow. you’re not sobbing. you don’t even know what you’re crying over. nothings happened. but eventually, sleep takes you.
“are you excited for college?” “what are you majoring in?” “you’re going to be a doctor, right?” “isn’t your dad a really good surgeon? my dad wants me to go into med school, but i don’t think i have the patience.”
the high school girls are packed into the locker room before gym, voices bouncing off metal lockers and tiled floors. someone’s trying to braid their ponytail in the mirror. another girl is complaining about wanting to get out of this gym period.
“wait, did they release decisions yet?”
“can your dad help me out when i’m looking for an internship?”
“yeah, you always work for your dad, so it’s not fair.”
“i’m jealous.”
your seventeen year old brain can only laugh, “it’s not like that,” you say automatically. but your friends only seem to double down. marking all your “wins” on one person who isn’t you.
“must be nice having your whole life figured out.”
the pressure in your chest tightens. you blink. you’ve heard these conversations a hundred times, so you should be used to them by now. but something tight twists in your chest. your fingers fumble with the combination lock on your gym locker. the metal slipping beneath your hands.
“you okay?”
“yeah,” your voice comes out too fast. you try again. however, it becomes harder to breathe, your vision blurring around the edges.
“shit!” your friend moves back just as you hit the lockers, falling to your knees as you grab your chest. is this a heart attack? people have heart attacks. can a high schooler have one? your dad would know—
“i can’t breathe.” the words tear out of your throat. your heart pounds harder, your fingers feel tingly and your head lightheaded.
“i can’t breathe.” you try again. nothing is coming out. air won’t come in. your hands shake violently, chest twisting.
“someone get the nurse!”
“she’s crying—”
you don’t feel the tears spill down your face before you even realize you’re crying. your chest hurts, your head spins, and the girls crowd around you.
—
the week leading up to the trip moved strangely, it was slow. the days blurred together as each individual hour stretched.
sukuna picked up more shifts at the bar, the smell of beer and musk clinging to his clothes long after he got home. when he wasn’t working, he was on the field by the beach, shirt sticking to his back beneath the summer sun as he played against whoever was willing to challenge him. usually it was gojo and geto. sometimes yuuji joined him, always laughing, but sukuna could feel the subtle shift. the kid lingered less…asked fewer questions, and as close as he is with gramps, even he wasn’t telling wasuke the full answer. and that was starting to make sukuna a little on edge.
then there was choso. it was inevitable after their argument. choso went out of his way to avoid his older brother and buried himself in rehearsals for the upcoming semifinals, spending more nights at ino’s, then with yuuji or gramps.
meanwhile, you’ve settled deeper into a routine. the hospital shifts, and early mornings that made you want to claw your eyes out. the drives with shoko that always eased you a bit. but then there was the wedding that jennie came for. and every aunt and family friend had something to ask. was there anyone special? were you talking to someone? how is it going into your senior year of undergrad? had you started studying for the mcat? have you taken the mcat yet?
your mother brushed them off, while your sister laughed because dating felt like the last thing on your mind. you smiled through it all, even as your stomach twisted tighter with every question you couldn’t answer honestly.
and then there was your father. he’d become quieter after the incident in the staircase, polite but distant in a way that unsettled you more. is he disappointed you aren’t taking the mcat yet? did one of the residents say something about your performance? you don’t ask. you just keep the questions with you, swirling in your mind whenever you see him.
none of the stress eases. not even when you quietly see sukuna in gojo’s ig stories. not even when yazzy tries to teach you and shoko a new dance move she’s learning. not even when your sister finally heads to the airport. none of it seemed to scratch that itch that kept your mind loud and irritating.
“did you get any sleep?” shoko pulls her shirt off, slipping into her scrubs. you stifle a yawn, shaking your head as you pull your scrub pants up. shoko yawns along with you, but exhales loudly afterwards. shaking her hands as she gives you smile. “last day though!”
your lips part, eyes widening, “oh snap.” and maybe that was what you needed because you’re suddenly smiling with shoko, laughing as you look at your phone. “last day!”
shoko hums, smiling wider as you both start dancing. and that definitely could be considered the longest, and best day of your week. and before you can blink, you’ve packed your suitcases and kissed your mom goodbye as she drops you and shoko off at the airport.
and with full unbridled honesty, you knew the best part of this trip was the excuse of being away from everything and everyone, and that’s what you’ve convinced yourself is what you need.
even after hours trapped in a middle seat, struggling to fall asleep, awkwardly folding yourself away from the men occupying both armrests beside you, you endure it. by the time the plane lands, your eyes burn with exhaustion and dark circles sit beneath them. the warm air greets you outside carrying the scent of salt and sunscreen.
you and shoko collect your luggage in a daze, exchanging tired glances until your attention catches on a sharply dressed man near the exit, holding a sign with both your names.
and that’s when your oasis begins.
the drive stretches along the coastline, blue water glittering beneath the afternoon sun. the mediterranean houses blur past the windows. shoko rests her cheek against her fist while you stare outside, feeling something inside your chest tighten again. what’re you even taking a vacation for?
you turn the corner into the neighborhood and your jaw drops. a villa sits at the end of the hillside like something straight out of a movie, and beyond the property is the ocean stretching endlessly, waves crashing.
“…you’re kidding,” you breathe.
shoko lets out a low whistle, stepping out of the car, “i forgot how disgustingly rich he is.”
the front doors slide open before either of you can fully process the sight, grabbing your suitcases.
“well, well, well!”
of course, the first thing you see is satoru gojo. he stands at the entrance wearing nothing but black swim shorts and a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his white hair, arms spread wide like he’s welcoming royalty into his kingdom. his skin is slightly tanned, abs glistening, and veins crawling up his forearms.
“took you guys long enough,” he announces obnoxiously. “i’ve been suffering all alone.”
“you’ve been posting pool pictures for three days with everyone,” shoko deadpans.
“but we’re still missing people,” gojo rebuts.
shoko laughs despite herself, stepping forward to wrap him in a quick hug. gojo squeezes her dramatically before turning his full attention toward you, who’s still dragging your suitcase across the polished floors, gaze darting between the towering ceilings, the sweeping staircase, and the ocean visible through the open living room.
“…what the hell,” you murmur. “this is insane.”
gojo’s grin somehow widens, “i know.”
you finally look at him properly, “thanks for letting me join,” you say, sincerity slipping into your voice before you can stop it. “seriously.”
for a brief moment, he looks genuinely touched, then— “well, it’s the least i can do,” he says, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “i’ll just need significantly more praise from you and sho for being such a generous, handsome host—”
“sure,” you cut him off easily, making him pout. but you finally step closer, wrapping your arms around him in a greeting hug anyway. “thank you, satoru.”
the complaint dies in his throat. “you’re welcome,” he says quickly but sounding almost suspicious of your sincerity before recovering instantly. “see? this is why you’re my favorite guest.”
“sure,” you sarcastically hum. “I’m just guessing you say that to everyone.”
“i do not.”
“you literally called utahime your favorite yesterday on facetime,” shoko points out.
“that was an obvious lie,” gojo shrugs.
“you definitely told geto he was your favorite,” shoko adds quickly.
gojo points, “he’s my favorite best friend.”
you glance between them, exhausted laughter bubbling out of you despite the lingering ache behind your eyes. sunlight pouring through the windows.
your suitcase stands forgotten by the doorway. somewhere outside, waves crash against the shore. and as gojo continues arguing with shoko about favoritism while leading you deeper into the villa. more people start coming into view.
“ahhh!! finally!!” a familiar voice booms, suddenly seeing a blur before you’re being engulfed in a hug by utahime. “it’s been hell with just these guys!”
gojo snorts, rolling his eyes, “why don’t you go ogle yuno, you perv—“
the harsh slap to his bare arm shuts him up, utahime glaring at him as she looks over her shoulder. luckily, yuno was still chatting loudly with nanami and some other guy you weren’t familiar with.
geto takes the attention as he steps in from the front door, sunglasses on and hair tied in bun. a smile immediately comes to his face when he spots more people. “it’s finally starting to feel like a vacation.”
you and shoko are taken upstairs. your suitcases bump softly against the polished tile floors as gojo launches into an overly detailed tour that neither of you retain, and something shoko’s already heard before.
but what you do manage to take in is how the villa becomes even more breathtaking the more you see of it. the arched doorways connecting the rooms, the patterned tiles lining the hallways, and carved wooden accents softening the stone walls. the villa held about eight bedrooms, and you and shoko barely process the number before finding yourselves in your room—or rather, your suite.
utahime’s presence is immediately obvious. her clothes are draped over the armchair near the balcony doors, makeup bag open across one of the dressers, bikinis and dresses laying on two of the beds, and several pairs of shoes already claimed near the closet.
“she really made herself at home,” shoko mutters.
you hum softly, too distracted by the room itself. two queen-sized beds sit beneath the exposed wooden beams, white linen curtains swaying every time the wind passes through the open balcony doors. the adjoining layout gives the three of you more than enough space, and the balcony utahime had apparently secured for the girls stretches across the back of the villa.
you wander to the open balcony before you can stop yourself, curious as to what the view is. warm air brushes against your dampened skin from the journey, but you’re immediately welcomed by the scent of salt and blooming flowers. below, you see the large pool, and then past the trees that circle the property, are terracotta rooftops of other villas, then the coastline in the distance. you can see the ocean glittering invitingly.
eventually, you peel yourself away making your way to the shower, washing away the hours of sticky travel air. the warm water loosens the knots in your shoulders, the steam clouding the mirror. by the time you emerge in an oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts, toweling your hair dry, your body feels impossibly heavy.
the room is empty. you can hear shoko and the rest of the group outside from the open balcony. but all you can manage to do is walk across the tiled floor, barely managing to crawl onto the bed to turn of your phone alarm. your eyes struggling to stay open as you uncap your bottled water and swallow your scheduled pill. and once it goes down your throat, you toss the birth control pills back in your bag, and hit the warm sheets. you sink into the mattress with a relieved sigh.
the balcony doors remain open. the breeze filtering through the curtains. setting sun painting soft patterns across the tiled floor. and somewhere between one blink and the next, lulled by the sound of the ocean just beyond the villa walls, the exhaustion from everything finally catches up to you.
your eyes eventually drift shut.
unaware of what’s taking you so long, shoko and utahime go upstairs after an hour, freezing once they see you passed out.
“what the—“ utahime frowns. “we’re gonna go out to eat, wake up—“
utahime’s words die feeling shoko tug her out of the room.
“just let her sleep,” shoko cuts. “she’s been stressed for weeks, and i feel bad.” shoko’s voice is much softer, eyes down as utahime glances at her expression, then at the closed door.
“did something happen?” utahime’s brows are pinched.
shoko steps away from the door, shrugging, “I dunno,” a beat passes. “her sister just told me she doesn’t sleep well when she’s stressed, so just to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t drink too much if she’s still, like,” shoko tries to find the right words. “funky, I guess. so like…this is a good chance for her to catch up on her sleep and relax a bit.”
utahime nods, immediately. “for sure. I’ll keep an eye on her too then— and we can help her destress in these next two weeks!—“ utahime suddenly slaps a hand over her mouth after she basically shouted.
shoko chuckles, but hums along.
the two had the right idea leaving you to sleep. you knocked out for the rest of the day, and by the time you wake up, the sun is only a few minutes from rising. you were slightly confused, having slept for so long. groggy, you sit up and blink around the unfamiliar room. the pale morning light filters through the open balcony doors, the curtains shifting softly with the breeze. and once you see the two other people sleeping in the room, you realize where you are.
utahime is asleep beside you, laying on her side hugging her pillow. shoko is sprawled across the other queen bed like a starfish, blanket tangled around her legs.
and you simply sit there, still waking up, until your stomach starts growling. you rub your eye, reaching for your phone, happy someone had put it in the charger.
6:02 a.m.
“…damn” you mutter to yourself, you hadn’t eaten since the shitty airplane food. careful not to wake either of them, you slide out of bed and slip out of the room.
the villa is quiet in that way when everyone’s still asleep. it’s peaceful and calming. you notice a few abandoned glasses still sitting on the kitchen island from the night before. some half-finished bags of chips on the counter and couches. through the open doors, the warm morning air drifts inside carrying the scent of the ocean.
gojo’s pretty rich to not care that all the back doors are wide open, you think.
you rummage through the mediterranean style kitchen until you find bread, cold cuts, cheese, and enough ingredients to throw together a decent sandwich. then with a plate in hand, phone tucked beneath your arm, you wander outside. the backyard overlooking the hillside below, terracotta rooftops spilling toward the ocean in the distance. the pool reflects the pale pinks and oranges beginning to stretch across the sky. and you settle onto one of the lounge chairs by the pool. your legs curl beneath you as you scroll mindlessly through your phone between bites of your sandwich.
it’s nice and quiet, and your shoulders sink further into the chair, slowly beginning to force yourself into a vacation mindset. and because of that, you don’t hear the front door open, or the footsteps crossing the brown tiled floors.
what you suddenly hear, mid-scroll, is a heavy unexpectedly loud thud of a duffle bag hitting the ground startling the living hell out of you. your heart hitting your ribs.
“…what the fuck?!”
you yelp entire body jerking, nearly tumbling off the chair as your heart launches straight into your throat. you’re still holding your sandwich, immediately whipping around to see the perpetrator.
and standing in the middle of the living room. black soccer shorts hanging low on his hips, a loose black t-shirt stretching across his shoulders. a cap resting in one hand, headphones around his neck. suitcase standing beside him, and a worn-in duffle bag abandoned at his feet….is sukuna.
he looks like he just got off a flight, slightly sweaty, slightly irritated, slightly exhausted, and unbelievably attractive. his scowl is already in place from being startled by the scream, but then he pauses once he sees you.
his eyes drag over your messy sleep-tangled hair, oversized shirt, bare legs tucked awkwardly beneath you on the lounge chair, and the bite of your sandwich still sitting in your mouth as you slowly chew. the edge of his expression shifts, not quite a smile, but something softer than his scowl.
“…the fuck are you screaming for?” he asks.
you stare at him, chewing the rest of your sandwich that flew out when your screamed. he stares back.
“…you look a mess,” you finally say through your bite.
his gaze flickers over you once more. “i think you’re looking in a mirror,” he replies flatly.
and just like that, sitting barefoot beside the pool at six in the morning with food in your mouth and your heart still hammering against your ribs, you can’t explain the way your shoulders ease a bit.
“asshole,” you reply with no bite. sukuna hums, sliding his backpack off and dropping his cap, headphones, and phone on top of his duffle before walking towards you. you swallow the bite you’d been chewing just for sukuna to kneel on the ground beside you, inspecting your sandwich.
“what is that?”
you glance at it, then down at him, your cheeks warming in seconds. he’s so close. “turkey, cheese, olives—“
“olives?” his large hand wraps around your hand, holding the sandwich.
you raise a brow, “yeah, it’s good—wha!” your eyes blow wide when he suddenly takes an obnoxiously large bite out of your sandwich. “what the hell!” you shove his shoulder back, making him loose his balance and catch himself on his annoyingly big arm, but it was too late. he’s chewing your sandwich, as you frown. “you didn’t even ask.”
“y’ didn’t look like you’d give me a bite if I asked,” sukuna speaks with his mouth full.
you scowl, “obviously, it’s mine. you can make your own, tch.”
sukuna continues chewing, still sitting back on his arm, eyes heavy as he stares up at you from your spot on the lounge chair.
you frown right back at him. even half-awake, with travel exhaustion weighing down your limbs, your expression pinches in annoyance. your brows pull together, nose wrinkling slightly, and your grip tightens around your sandwich.
his gaze lingers, “your eyes are bloodshot,” he finally says. you blink at him. “did y’ get any sleep?”
you take another pointed bite before answering, glaring at him over the edge of your sandwich, “yeah, actually. i slept the second i got here and missed dinner,” you narrow your eyes. “which means the first thing i’ve eaten since yesterday is the sandwich you freaking stole.”
sukuna scoffs, “dramatic.”
“you took half of it!” you screech lowly.
“that’s not half.”
“you have no idea what half means.”
his eyes drift downward before returning to your face. you’re sitting cross-legged on the lounge chair, turning slightly away from him now as you continue eating, subtly trying to finish it before he tries to take another bite. which he probably would do, just seeing the way he’s eyeing it.
sukuna feels a quiet tug beneath his ribs. the morning sun finally stretches over the horizon, painting gold across the pool water and catching against your soft skin. you’re still grumbling under your breath as you chew.
“you’re unbelievable,” you mutter.
he pushes himself up a little straighter beside your chair, his calloused palm rests on your bare thigh. “one more bite?” he asks.
you let out a humorless laugh, “yeah, as if.”
he lifts a brow, squeezing your thigh, “c’mon I’m starving. the plane’s breakfast was ass.”
“make your own then,” you say through another mouthful, keeping your free hand against his shoulder to keep him at arm’s length. he glances down at it, then back up at you.
annoyance flickering across his face. “seriously?”
you glance between his eyes, swallowing and taking another bite, “yeah.”
“one more bite.”
“there’s barely any left though,” you whine, keeping his shoulder back as he tries to get closer. but he clicks his tongue before wrapping his hand loosely around your wrist, pulling your palm away from his shoulder with little effort.
“selfish,” he mutters.
you nearly choke. “selfish?” you repeat, staring at him in disbelief. “you’re tryna steal my breakfast.”
“whatever,” he scowls, still holding your wrist. “I’m hungry.”
“ryomen.”
“what?”
“make your own sandwich.”
he stares at you. you stare back. then, without warning, he reaches for your wrist that holds your sandwich, making you gasp loudly, using your legs now to keep your bodies apart. “don’t—“
your free hand wiggles in his grip while he leans over, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as your horrified complaints echo through the otherwise peaceful sunrise. your body struggles as he takes control, easily manuring himself onto the lounge chair, your knee keeping him away, as the other squirms to move between your body, but hanging loosely around his torso.
“ryo pleasee,” your whine rings so clearly, he can’t contain the flip in his stomach. he stops.
your chest is rising and falling from the struggle, anxiously glancing at him, brows pinched expecting him to pull your wrist to his mouth, but he remains still. staring down at you. then at your lips. then back at your eyes.
and suddenly, your legs are loosening, heart beating against your ribs, and letting sukuna fit himself comfortably between your legs. his hand holding your free hand, carefully brushes beneath your jaw before settling against the side of your neck. it’s warm and familiar. the morning breeze lifts strands of your hair across your face, and for a second, neither of you move.
waves crash in the distance. birds calling out in the pale sky. sunlight spilling over the terrace, painting soft lines across the sharp planes of sukuna’s face. his eyes don’t leave yours, and you can feel his breath against your lips, warming a deep spot in your tummy.
“you good?” you whisper eventually, voice smaller than you intend.
his gaze flickers down again. your mouth, then back to your eyes. then groggy, and voice much deeper then before, he mutters… “been a minute.”
your stomach flips. wetting your lips unconsciously, and sukuna’s eyes sharpen at the movement, barely blinking before you feel his firm lips against yours.
the breath leaves his lungs in a quiet rush. there’s a desperation hidden beneath the steadiness he tries so hard to maintain. but his hand tightens ever so slightly where it rests against you.
your lips move in sync like muscle memory. it’s familiar and instinctive. your fingers drift upward, threading through the soft strands at the nape of his neck before settling against his scalp. he releases a gentle exhale against your mouth at the contact, making your pulse stumble. sukuna leans closer without realizing it, his broad shoulders block out the morning sun as he deepens the kiss. your lips part on instinct, welcoming his tongue.
you can’t explain the urge that grows inside you the longer you kiss. the make out feels unbelievably calming, his grip tight around the lounge chair above your head, his knees digging into the seat, and his tongue swallowing your moans that have his pulse stuttering. your nails scratch at his scalp, threading through the pink locks digging gently.
“you taste like my sandwich,” you murmur with a clipped tone, tongue kissing his as he hums.
“yeah, fuck if I care,” he so easily brushes off the attitude to kiss you again. there were only two bites of your sandwich left, but you still held on to it, even as sukuna skillfully traced your bottom lip with his tongue. his hips lowering just to press his semi-bulge right against your clothed cunt, and that was enough to note the way your breath catches.
he can’t put into words how much his body needed you. just seeing you when he first walked in after his shit flight had his chest twisting, and now, kissing you…he feels every second relieving the weight on his shoulders.
your nails scratch at his scalp, tugging gently just to have him pull away, his eyes watching the way you catch your breath. lips all pretty and wet from him. eyes slightly dazed as you stare up at him, face lit softly with a healthy glow that has him leaning down again. he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your bottom lip, caressing your tongue as it meets again.
“you didn’t send me any more pics,” he mutters.
your cheeks flush, nails caressing his nape. “you didn’t ask for more.”
“it should be unspoken.”
you snort, leaning closer when he pulls away, “it’s not now.”
sukuna grumbles, jaw ticking for a moment until your lips find each other again, your legs wrap around his torso, letting him put his weight on top of you, unbothered by the plane’s air that still clings to him. “give me a bite of the sandwich,” he mutters, trailing his lips down to your neck. and even if it’s been weeks, he still finds your sweet spot in seconds, nipping at it. your breath catches in your pretty throat, whining shyly when he licks the spot again with his warm tongue.
“no,” you say, managing to take another bite, doing your best to chew it as fast as you can, even with the bread being so thick, sukuna catches your wrist again. your eyes widen, watching him move your hand to his open mouth, taking the last bite.
you groan with a mouth full, eyes harsh as they glare up at him. the two of you chewing all the while his hand finds its way to your waist, slipping under your shirt to caress your bare skin.
“is it too hard for you to make a sandwich?” you speak with your mouth full, swallowing bites but still chewing.
“yeah, it is,” he replies coolly.
your brow twitches in irritation. but you still can’t help the way your gaze lingers. it’s been almost two months, and somehow he looks exactly the same. however, his salmon hair has grown out just enough to brush against the nape of his neck, it’s slightly damp from the warm weather. his shoulders seem broader than you remember, his t-shirt stretching across his frame. his veins stand out beneath his sun-bronzed forearms, hands rough and familiar where they rest against the lounge chair and your bare waist.
even sitting there, lazy and half-awake from travel, there is something unfairly imposing about him. it’s all familiar, but it could be the distance apart that has you pointing out the sharp tattoos again, the intimidating size difference, and the quiet confidence of him, painfully aware of what his body does to you.
your eyes drift over the dark tattoos peeking beneath his sleeves and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. his beefy thighs crowding the edge of the chair when he shifts, solid beneath his worn soccer shorts. he’s inconveniently attractive, stealing your sandwich like a jerk, familiar arrogance seeping with each glance your way, and his typical scowl…but still, your fingers almost ache with the remembered habit of tracing his inked skin beneath your fingertips, wanting to hear the low huff he’d give you in response.
you don’t miss him…but you do miss this pull of wanting someone who always feels just out of reach, but still appears right in front of you when you need him most.
“good-fuckin’-sandwich,” he finally swallows, licking his lips. he leans down with little effort, and high confidence, pressing his lips to yours again. body moving on top of you, rolling his hips down just to hear your little hiccup, your hand suddenly presses against his shoulder, pushing. he barely moves, but he does pause, pulling away enough to keep his face hovering close. “what? you mad I took the last bite?”
you roll your eyes, ready to respond when your stomach suddenly pierces the air with a loud grumble.
the sound has the frat boy freezing, glancing down. your lips part, cheeks flaring, glancing away as sukuna sits up just a little. “you seriously didn’t eat anything?”
“I told you I haven’t eaten,” you tsk, cheeks inflamed from the sound, desperately trying to ignore the caresses of sukuna’s hand under your shirt, thumb brushing your torso, suddenly pushing the material of t-shirt higher revealing more of your torso.
the air grows awkwardly uncomfortable, neither of you saying a word, and him not responding has you growing slightly more aware of the position he has you in. you don’t want to address it, you seriously, strongly, want to ignore how he’d just made himself comfortable with touching you after being apart for weeks. but that sudden thought as you pushing yourself up.
your hand climbs up his chest, curling your fist around his collar. and with little resistance, you tug him towards you.
“I’ll make another sandwich,” you mutter, your pretty chest rising with each breath. “you can keep kissing me…” his eyes flick between yours, they’re heavy with either exhaustion, lust, or both, but then you whisper the precious words he’s been dreaming of hearing this close, with your warmth wrapping around him, and your scent making his head spin… “please, ryo.”
his lips twitch up, arm wrapping around your waist, holding you close from under your shirt. then your heart skips a beat. his head tucks down to your shoulder, burying his face there, pulling you to his chest.
your lips part, cheeks burning hot as he hugs you closer. his fingers dig possessively around your waist, bicep flexing around.
the summer breeze wraps around you. heart beating aggressively against your chest. fingers twitching trapped between your bodies, his hot breath fans against your neck. seagulls fly above you, the sky clear as day. but none of it can be fully processed, not when sukuna is hugging you like it’s been years since you’ve seen each other.
“r—“ you stop yourself when a warm kiss is pressed against your neck. then another. his hand brushes up and down your warm torso, making you always aware of his presence. slowly trailing kisses up your neck, subtly inhaling more of your flowery scent.
his cheeks sting, and he feels the heat crawl up his neck as his bulge grows harder. but he doesn’t stop peppering your burning skin with wet kisses. he pays a certain spot with more attention, sucking just a bit harder, smiling subtly when he hears your cute hiccup-like-moan.
“y’know,” he mutters against your skin, sucking another light hickey on your pretty neck, barely noticeable. he doesn’t wait for you to respond, your fingers twitching at his waist, holding his shirt. “I’ve been thinking’ bout how you got naked in your car,” your cheeks sting as the memory resurfaces quickly. “and how you fingered this pussy ‘cause I asked ya too,” you don’t have to look at him to hear the devilish smile he’s sporting. “then you fucking knocked over the phone when you came.”
your lips part in a quiet gasp, “it was an accident—“
he tsks, “still.” you blush. “I wanted to see it.” his hand brushes higher, unbothered by how he’s pushing your shirt up, revealing your lower back to the warm air. your skin is just so soft under his rough palm, and you fit perfectly against him. “you’ve been teasing me.”
your eyes go wide, “me?!—haah—“
the moan has your face bursting into flames, his teeth sink into your neck. your hand finding its way to his bicep, nails digging in, as he licks the mark he leaves. his lips skim up your neck, warm breath fanning gently until your lips are parting to inhale the same air.
“yeah, you,” his eyes flick over your lips. “with that call, and the one before that, and your photo.” he wets his bottom lip, a sinister smirk exposing his sharp canines. and in that moment you feel like he’d swallow you whole any second. “and now you’re lounged out here waiting for me.”
that’s when a a loud scoff leaves your lips. cheeks aflame. “as if. I didn’t even know when you were coming. it’s a coincidence.”
a disbelieving hum resounds from his throat. “so you were camped out here in these little shorts,” he tugs the hem of your shorts. “and this shirt wearing nothing underneath, for who then?”
you raise a brow, amused by him, forearm casually resting on his shoulder as you look back at him. “would you believe me if I said it was for me?”
he clicks his tongue.
you hum, glancing away for entertainment, free hand coming up to your chin. sukuna sits still, surprisingly patient, almost like you both have all the time in the world. it was unnervingly attractive. but you still decide to tease him, amused by the thought so you say it.
“then it was for satoru.”
and the moment that name leaves your lips, the reaction is far from what you’ were expecting. sukuna’s once calm features shift into a sudden disgusted scowl. the expression catches you so off guard that you suddenly burst out laughing, right in his face.
“fuck outta my face,” he spits.
you laugh even louder, hand coming up to your mouth trying to control yourself. “what? you don’t believe me?”
your push has sukuna rolling his eyes to the back of his skull. “playin’ in my face.”
“pleaseeee,” you cackle, adjusting yourself higher, waving a hand in front of him. “I was—I meant to say it’s for suguru.”
you visibly see the twitch in his eye, and that has you laughing louder hitting his chest as your head falls back. “I’m DEAD, you’re actually killing me!!” your laughing is so loud it irks him how much you’re getting a kick out of his reaction. he also ignores how cute your stupid laugh is after not hearing for so long. “cmon, it’s no biggy, wearing this skimpy little thing for my suguru.”
“your suguru,” sukuna spits back, disgust laced in every word.
you nod, bitting your top lip as you hold in your laughter, even if your eyes are laughing. “it makes sense, since me and him are sharing a room.”
his body suddenly goes dead still. “you’re fucking with me.”
his tone has you laughing louder, unaware how much that bothered the footballer. “you don’t believe me?”
sukuna rolls his eyes, loosening his jaw as he exhales through his nose. “daamn, relax ryo.” you coo, hand coming up to squish his cheeks. “tough month? you can’t take my little jokes anymore?” your faux pout has him scowling immediately, but his cock jumps at the expression.
“ragebait,” he mutters. you softly snort, smile lighting up your face, then your pretty head tilts for him. so fucking pretty.
“aww, that wasn’t my intention,” you coo.
the lie has sukuna scoffing, eyes flickering between your insincere doe eyes, and it tickles an itch deep in his core. “I was just playing with you,” you playfully squish his cheeks again, watching the way his lips purse together. he’s so cute.
his hands rest on your waist, staring straight into your eyes, and he unknowingly allows you to mess with him. enough that a string tugs at his chest.
“you mad?” your lips part slightly when he doesn’t respond, your eyes still holding a playful spark in them.
“yeah.”
it was a detectable lie that has your pretty lips pulling into a smile you can’t control. “yeah?” you’ve seriously grown confident in your time apart, and it’s unbelievably attractive. “but I thought it was pretty funny. you can’t be mad about that, can you?”
your thumb brushes the morning shadow on his chin, the stubble beyond attractive. but sukuna is too busy clicking his tongue at you to notice the way you’re checking him out whilst pushing his buttons. “I can. do you see me laughing with ya?”
you purse your lips, smile spilling out wide. you shake your head, then you push yourself up. your pretty legs are loose around his hips, your fingers gently curling under his chin, wetting your bottom lip with a soft hum.
“I don’t,” your voice is low, sweet. his jaw tenses slightly, waiting for you to act, and surprisingly you catch it. and you start smiling again. “you’re so patient, ryo.”
his breath catches, covering it with a loud, offended scoff. “maybe finish your sentences,” he snaps. “y’ keep fucking trailing off.”
you smile, leaning close to his face. breath warm against his lips. “I just answered you though,” you trail off again, purposefully. your lips hover over his, slowing your breath, lashes fluttering like a subtle seductress. and it works. he leans closer, wanting your warmth to encompass him even more. his cheeks a stained dark pink as you exhale softly. “you just like listening to me…don’t you?”
your smile is unbelievably beautiful, but his remains still, glaring at you through his dark lashes. his thick brow quirks. “i don’t remember ya being this cocky,” he mutters and there isn’t much heat behind the insult.
your smile only widens, “I didn’t realize how easy you make it,” you coo softly.
his brow twitches, “don’t flatter yourself.”
“mm.” your fingers drift along the collar of his shirt, eyeing the tattoos that peak, then meeting his crimson gaze again. “too late.”
the morning breeze curls around the two of you, the scent of salt and sunscreen drifts through the quiet villa. the pool glitters behind him and still, neither of you moves away.
his eyes drag over your expression, lingering on the curve of your smile and the amusement brightening your face. he’d spent weeks listening to your voice through a phone speaker, catching glimpses of you through photos and stories, and now that you’re here, he finds himself unable to take his hands off you.
you tilt your head. “what?” you ask, trying and failing to sound innocent.
“you’re annoying,” he cuts.
“but…” you lean closer, your lips brushing his, and he barely reacts. “you haven’t asked me to stop.”
something shifts behind his eyes. the confidence in your expression flickers for half a second, replaced by something softer, and something he sure as shit brushes away. but the teasing quiets just enough for his stomach to twist.
“tell me ryo,” you murmur quietly, voice just above a whisper. the sweetness drips into his ear like honey. his cock straining in his shorts, unable to control his body’s reaction to you. “you like being teased…right?”
his mouth twitches. “you fucking with me again?”
you slowly shake your head, staring into his eyes, twirling his hair around your finger. “you can tell me,” you tug at his hair lightly. “I don’t judge.”
he’s leaking for sure. the clear outline of his cock would be embarrassing if he wasn’t packing. and even with how obviously turned on he is, how flushed his ears are, and how blown his pupils have gotten. he still manages to hold his composure, and bite back a shit eating grin.
“cute,” his arm tightens around your waist, the other dragging up your thigh, pushing up your shorts. his bulge is pressing directly onto your shorts, and his sharp canines almost make him look animalistic. “I don’t think you realize what you’re doing.”
you hum, dragging the sound in faux innocence, lashes batting up at him, almost making him release a pathetic noise. “what am doing? I thought I was creating a safe space for you,” you coo.
“don’t play dumb.”
you shrug, face still close, and fingers still playing with the ends of his hair, the other squeezing his bicep. “I’m not.“
and once your eyes glance over the scowl that flickers across his face, your unable to control your reaction. you laugh softly against the small space separating you, and the sound seems to snap whatever fragile thread of restraint he’d been clinging to.
you make a startled sound against him, one that quickly melts into something softer when he kisses you harder than before. his brows knit together, expression caught between irritation and want.
he completely steals the breath from your lungs. all the teasing from the last several minutes dissolves into something far less careful. the laughter lingering on your lips disappears beneath the press of his mouth, your fingers tangling tighter in the ends of his hair as he forces his tongue to meet yours. and the moment your tongues make contact, a guttural groan comes from the back of his throat. the sound is muffled against your lips, but the way you feel the warmth pool between your legs is immediate.
he doesn’t care anymore. his mind has wrapped itself around you, the familiarity of your lips, the warmth of your body, and the soft edges of your aura, it all has him melting. and it doesn’t take long for him to press his fully erect cock right against your shorts. rutting.
a squeak escapes your pretty lips at the first roll of his hips. jaw falling agape at the stimulation. the sunrise paints everything gold around you, warm light spilling across the pool deck while the rest of the villa remains asleep. and as exhausted as sukuna is from his flight, he physically can’t stop his body from rutting into you like a dog in heat.
his tongue is thick and hot, slowly stroking your lips passionately until you’re meeting the wet muscle with your own. your whine is muffled, arms latched around his shoulders, as he hooks your leg over his arm, humping your clothed pussy.
“we should fuck,” he mutters between kisses, grinding even harder, stimulating his cock. “yeah?” his hand squeezes the flesh of your thigh, kissing your bottom lip with haste. “everyone’s sleeping, I got a condom in my bag—“
a choked groan slips out of his throat when you tug his hair, his pupils twice their normal size. cheeks flushed a dark red, and his body unable to pull away from you. he doesn’t want to address how quickly you turn him on, or how much he craved your touch after being away from you for so long—no, none of it crosses the front of his mind when you’re under him, hands caressing his nape, lips glossy and swollen from kissing, and dark lashes batting up at him like you know everything. “you haven’t showered.”
he kisses down your neck, grinding slower, reminding you what he’s asking for. “I don’t smell that bad.” he unintentionally presses his face against your nape, inhaling. “fuck, but you smell so fucking good.”
your lips part momentarily, cheeks flushed. you feel him kiss the warm skin of your neck. he trails back to your lips, hand wrapping gently around your neck, tilting your chin up with a thumb, kissing you deeper, if possible.
it was a scene. and it was one that gojo was waking up to. his blue eyes are still heavy with sleep, white hair sticking in every direction, as he wanders down the staircase in nothing but a pair of shorts hanging dangerously low on his hips. one hand disappears beneath the hem of his shirt as he scratches absentmindedly at his chest, the other reaching automatically for the carton of orange juice waiting in the fridge.
the villa is quiet. the open screens let the morning breeze drift through the house, sunlight spilling across the floors and stretched toward the living room, where a duffle bag and suitcase had been abandoned carelessly near the entrance. gojo blinks, his gaze moves from the luggage to the open patio doors, then stops. “…oh.”
outside, beneath the morning blue sky, was a certain someone hidden behind one of the lounge chairs overlooking the pool, and sukuna was right on top of her. the two of you were obviously making out, his head bent toward yours, your hand buried somewhere near the ends of his pink hair, his broad shoulders blocking part of your frame from view, and his lower body was rocking against yours.
gojo stared, lifting the orange juice to his mouth, then lowering it. “…they’re still not dating,” he murmured to absolutely no one.
“what are you doing?” nanami’s voice breaks through the silence making gojo glance over briefly. fresh out of bed himself, nanami is halfway through pulling a shirt over his head, pajama pants slung low against his waist, catching a brief sight of his dark blonde happy trail, as he walks into the kitchen, following gojo’s line of sight. his steps slowed. “oh.”
gojo points toward the patio, “they’re not dating.”
nanami yawns, moving toward the fridge anyway.“i went to bed early,” he said. “did he get here last night?”
gojo shakes his head immediately, finally twisting the cap off the orange juice. “nope. he literally just got here. i got the notification from the security.” nanami pauses, glancing over his shoulder again, then toward the abandoned bags in the living room, then back outside.
“…they’re that comfortable with each other?” the question slips out before he can stop it.
gojo snorts, “or they’re just ridiculously attracted to each other,” he shrugs. “but they’re definitely not dating.”
nanami raises a brow thoughtfully. “did they not have sex with anyone else if they’re jumping each other like that now?” gojo tilts his head in genuine surprise. nanami’s eyes linger on the scene outside.
maybe it’s instinct or it the unmistakable feeling of being watched, because outside, sukuna’s gaze lifts. his sharp crimson eyes slide toward the villa without warning and land directly on the blue and honey-colored pair staring back at him from the kitchen. the silence stretches, until gojo slowly raises his carton of orange juice in greeting.
your brows quirk seeing sukuna’s suddenly pulling away and scowling over your shoulder. that’s when you decide to stick your head out, brows quirking at gojo and nanami both standing in the kitchen.
“didn’t mean to interrupt the streamy sesh,” gojo calls out casually, nanami glancing at him in annoyance. “you guys can continue.”
you snort, pressing a hand to sukuna’s chest, just for the hot head to sit back on his knees, glaring at his friends. “damn, but you kinda made me loose my appetite though,” you say stepping away from sukuna to stand up. his eyes follow you, jaw tightening as gojo cackles loudly from the house.
“whaaaat—but don’t you guys miss each other? I didn’t wanna ruin the reunion,” gojo lightly teases, unknowingly hitting a nerve as sukuna tsks, and you surprisingly raise a brow.
“you’re not ruining anything,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at sukuna who’s still sat on the lounge chair, hand over his bulge. “we were jus’ talking.”
gojo smirks, nodding sarcastically, “yeah, for sure. must’ve been the wind then.”
you sarcastically cringe, shrugging. “ah, must’ve been.” you don’t break a sweat as you walk further into the house passing by the boys as you make your way up the stairs, leaving them behind. and even with your heart beating erratically, and your face sweltering. you keep your composure until you’re out of sight.
as for sukuna…he remains seated, quiet, and unbelievably pissed off. nanami finds it slightly amusing, while gojo is snorting loudly. “that’s how much you wanna get in her pants—I just got the notification that you walked in and you’re already tryna fuck her—jeez.”
sukuna scowls, standing up. the irritation dripping from his being as he slips a hand into his shorts, tucking his erection up. “since when do you fucking cockblock me?” he snaps, walking into the house.
gojo’s hands fly up in defense, “you’re the ones that stopped. I was just drinkin’ my juice here.”
“he was watching,” nanami casually corrects, earning another shrug from gojo. sukuna clicks his tongue, and it prompts nanami to follow up with the only question swimming in his head. “are you guys dat—“
“no.”
the room falls silent.
sukuna picks up his duffle bag. his sharp eyes find the two men, and he utters his next words, with little thought, only wanting to end any further discussion on a subject he has little care to address with outsiders.
“we fuck. and I’m gonna fuck her again. and that’s my deal with her.”
his harsh tone is followed by a low whistle from the white haired man. and though sukuna walks away from them fully believing he put an end to whatever assumptions they insisted on making. because whatever existed between you and him has always been simple, physical, and convenient. except…
later that week, the simplicity shakes just a bit. when your arms lock around his torso, fingers twisting desperately into the back of his soaked shirt, refusing to let go. face pressed against his chest, eyes rimmed raw, breaths breaking apart into uneven pieces as your entire body trembles against him. the rain coming down harshly, drenching the quiet street and soaking through your skin and fabric.
and sukuna can only stare over your head into the empty street. his arms tighten around you without fully realizing what he’s doing it. his veins straining beneath his skin because you won’t stop shaking. your nails digging into him.
“don’t…” your voice is strained, the softness still shining through even in the state you’re in. “don’t push me away yet.”
his jaw clenches.
“please.”
a/n: watch you guys burn me alive after this. no joke, this shit was gonna be longer but I reached the line count limit on tumblr so I had to cut the scene short and add a sneak peak into next chapter.
chp 9 will have more yummy smut and angst. and I don’t wanna spoil, but *wink *wink, reader has been taking those birth control pills for a little over a month now 😛
Everything changed the moment he caught sight of you.
You lean up and kiss him now, he moans into your mouth in a way that’s utterly pathetic, but it’s simply the effect you had. One that terrified him – because you weren’t even trying, you didn’t even know what you did to him, or clearly to Satoru who is laying right behind you, shifting closer as Sukuna’s tongue slips into your mouth, even in the fucking morning you taste good.
“Hey,” Satoru murmurs against your ear when you pull back, cupping your face, making Sukuna pause his little circles for a moment.
He’s still here.
Shit.
"Don't I get a good morning kiss?" he asks, his voice low and teasing, all needy and annoying Sukuna to death.
“Mmm, I guess you could get one,” Sukuna smirks, kissing your pretty tit again, continuing his circles and making you tremble.
“Just one? So generous, sweetheart.”
“It is generous,” you turn your head, and his lips move over yours – he has seen it before, but now it’s different than that first time. He’s kissing you with a desperate need, his hand sliding down your back, over the curve of your ass, and between your legs from behind.
You gasp out loud, and Sukuna can literally hear that squelch, your slutty lil cunt taking him in.
Sukuna wishes it turned him off, that he didn’t love feeling you move between the two of them, that he doesn’t find that string of saliva between your mouths attractive.
Maybe it’s just you.
Maybe you’ve ruined Sukuna – not in the way you think, ‘ruining his life’ with your own situations, no.
You’ve ruined the man altogether.
He snatches you back by your chin, kissing you again, harder, deeper, pinching your clit between two fingers and making the filthiest noises escape your lips, Sukuna swallows them up as he can hear Satoru’s fingers move inside. He’s annoyed when they brush against him, but not annoyed enough for his cock not to twitch.
“Eyes on me,” he murmurs softly, and you eagerly obey, making him smirk just a little bit. “You’re a needy girl, aren’t you? Can’t get enough cock inside?”
“Please,” your whisper is sweet – as if you’re asking for sugar in your coffee, nothing like what was really happening.
Two men fucking you, two men who can’t take how much they want you, two men that would do anything to have you all alone, but yet…
you've got a text! looks like you're about to spend your summer on everyone's favorite trashy reality dating show searching for love (...or that cash prize at the end) will a certain pretty (annoying) blue-eyed boy catch your attention? or perhaps his dark-haired best friend? it seems this villa has a few bombshells in store too!
pairings: Gojo x Reader, Geto x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Choso x Reader
content: MDNI, fluff and light angst, fem reader!, she's a little bitchy but we love her anyway, gojo is down BAD, Geto is so smooth though, kissing, hand holding, finger sucking, teasing, jealousy, reader is going to be unhinged in this one guys, we support women's rights AND wrongs
creds: gorgeous art by @baobei-bu and divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
If you ever blew another kiss at a stupid camera, it would be too fucking soon.
"Smile! Oh, um not like that."
Your face hurt. Your heels hurt. Your pride hurt.
Had someone told you a year, scratch that, even six months ago, that you'd be here, filming take twenty of a stupid intro for a reality tv show you'd only ever binge-watched drunk before, you would have scoffed. But back then, you had a boyfriend, a promotion you didn't know you'd yet again get passed up for, a place to live that wasn't just your friend's couch.
Now?
You just had a suitcase of your sluttiest outfits and a plan to spend the summer half-drunk with handsome men.
"How would you describe yourself?" A chirpy voice asked, reading off a piece of paper behind the camera you were currently beaming at.
"I guess you could say I'm a hopeless romantic," You shrugged, twirling a loose strand of carefully styled hair in a manicured finger.
"So you believe in love at first sight?" There was a hint of derision in their haughty tone, one they didn't even try to hide after waiting for you to recite the lines they were baiting you into saying for the best sound bites.
"Who doesn't want to fall in love at first sight?" You smiled again, skirting around another lie.
Outside of your name and your age, you didn't think anything you'd said to them was even close to true. Playing a version of yourself you had been a few years ago, rather than the pessimist who wasn't even sure love existed anymore.
Your occupation? Freelance writer. Reality? Momentarily unemployed and surviving off of your savings. You had been a journalist, but the last thing you'd finished had been a low-effort clickbait list for some ad-invested website operating off of selling your data.
Your type? Prince charming. Reality? Your ex-boyfriend was probably closer to a storybook villain.
What you were hoping to find here? True love. Reality? Just not to absolutely humiliate yourself on national tv.
They saw through you anyway.
You'd never been that great of a liar.
But you'd done your best to scrub everything you could from all of your socials and even your friends to make it harder for any of that to be actually fact-checked. You hadn't even really wanted to come in the first place - your friends helped apply for you before the breakup even happened, goaded you into going once you did hear back from casting two weeks after you started couch-surfing.
The idea of fucking someone on live tv for a significant portion of the population to watch wasn't that appealing. But knowing your ex would definitely watch and just have to silently seethe over it?
It was enough for you to sign the contracts.
To pack your shit and spend two weeks stuck in a hotel room pacing the floor and contemplating how stupid you were for this. You were pretty sure the carpet would have permanent footprints by the time you left - especially once one of the members of production showed up at your door to show you the first two episodes that already aired, the belated realization setting in that they had to show you because you were supposed to be a bombshell. A late arrival meant to sow discord and steal one of the guys away from whoever he was with, and judging by the way the producer was tossing some hints, you guessed they hoped you would be this season's bitch.
Part of you wanted to bite at the title it seemed they already assigned you.
The other half was tempted to embrace it. Be the bad guy if you were just going to get a bad edit anyway.
"You'll be entering with another girl tomorrow," She talked with her head down, distracted by something on her phone.
On the screen of her laptop, a guy was arriving - the first bombshell of the boys. He was handsome, clean-cut blond hair neatly parted, a thin line shirt billowing with the breeze. Almost too put-together to be on this sort of show, the kind of man who definitely filed his taxes early every year and never let a woman hold a door open. He probably had a college fund already set up for his future kids that had more money than what was currently in your bank account.
"Okay," You nodded, trying to make a mental note of his name you knew wouldn't stick. Nanami.
"There's gonna be two back-to-back speed dates," She murmured, frowning now as she sighed and tapped away. You didn't think she bothered looking up at you more than twice since she showed up.
"Do I get to pick who I'm going out with?" There was a hint of hope in your voice. If you did then-
"No," She immediately answered, dashing the daydream before it could form. "The audience already voted."
Well, it wasn't like you had a great track record of choosing men to begin with. Maybe you needed someone to take that decision out of your hands for once.
"So who-"
She snapped the laptop shut, quick to stand and tuck it under her arm and she sighed for probably the hundredth time in the past hour.
"Someone will be here to pick you up tomorrow."
Your question was never answered.
Not even when someone came to grab your bag, or after you were shoved in the backseat of the car next to another woman close to your age, her hair a pretty shade of pink and wearing a little purple dress that clung to her figure. She was craning her neck up to check her reflection in the rearview mirror, carefully fixing her hair and touching up her makeup with her fingertips.
"I like your nails," You mumbled, awkwardly glancing out the window at the passing palm trees.
"Oh?" She hummed, holding out her hand to fix a ring on one of her fingers before throwing you a quick throwaway look. "Thanks."
"Nervous?"
"Nah," She casually shrugged.
You doubted she'd ever been rejected in her life - probably never even heard no directed her way. Most of the people you'd meet here would be the same, never the type to get picked last or overlooked.
"Same," You lied.
The car shuddered to a stop - but not in front of the villa. No, you were on a poorly-paved beach access lot surrounded by palm trees, a few other vans already occupying the other spaces.
You almost tripped getting out, heels sinking into a crack in the pavement as you held onto the car door to stop yourself from hitting the ground face-first.
One of the producers walked over, running through instructions on where to walk and which cameras to look and not to look at while someone else readjusted the mic packs they put on you before you left, but you were wiping your clammy palms on your thin dress, wondering who you'd be spending the night with.
And if they might like the girl next to you better.
There was no hope of your nerves disappearing when you noticed how confidently she strutted next to you, the knots tangling tighter in your stomach as you tried to match her casual smile.
The cherry on top of your collosal mistake setting in?
Both idiots you were walking towards didn't even notice either of you.
Too absorbed talking to each other, cracking jokes judging by the way they were chuckling and grinning. They were pretty fucking hot though, you'd at least give casting that.
Both tall and broad, the sort of guys who went to the gym often enough to be well-built without looking like they were hopped up on steroids. They were polar opposites other than that, one pale and bright-eyed, a brilliant shade of blue that put the sky to shame. He sorta looked like one of those fluffy white spoiled house cats, probably as loud and lazy as one. The other? He was the sort of handsome that bordered on beautiful, dignified features sharp enough to cut yourself on and accompanied by a dark stare. His long hair was tied up in a loose bun, a few loose bangs hanging down in his face.
The white-haired one saw you first, a lopsided smile forming before he let out a low whistle.
And if you were hoping not to come across as the bitch, you failed before the first word, rolling your eyes before he'd even said anything.
But really? A whistle?
"Seriously, Satoru?" His friend chided him, nudging his side with his elbow.
At least someone shared your sentiment.
"No hi? How are you?" You hmph-ed, studying the amused twinkle in his eyes as he stared back at you before you introduced yourself and murmured your name.
"I don't mind," The girl next to you laughed, effortlessly cool, as she skipped a step ahead of you, pulling each guy into a casual hug while you lagged a little behind. "I'm Manami."
"Satoru," The first guy introduced himself, a stupid grin returning to his face. His eyes were stuck on you, not-so-discreetly checking you out even when Manami's hands were lingering on him. He cocked his head to the side and jutted his thumb into the other one's chest. "Tall, dark, and handsome here is Suguru."
"Are you sure you're not going on a date with him too?" You tilted your head too with a sarcastic smile of your own, only half-teasing.
Suguru thought you were funny, chuckling as his friend openly pouted, a deep crease forming between his brows. He was more of your type, if you had one, your heart stalling when he met your curious glance, a wry smirk on his lips when he noticed your interest.
"You-"
A familiar ringtone interrupted, chirping loudly before Satoru could protest.
Suguru pulled a phone out of his pocket, one of the generic ones that was literally only used for receiving the stupid producer texts.
He started reading it out, a bunch of blah blah blah producer-speak for we need to the dates to start before we run out of daylight to shoot with.
"Come on, sweetheart, you're with me first," Satoru winked, slipping his hand into yours and interlacing your fingers to pull you with him down the branching path to the beach before you could protest this time.
If you had to guess, you'd probably put a hundred bucks down on him being the kind of guy that liked it when a girl was mean to him, loved the challenge of attempting to work his nearly non-existent charm to win someone over.
"Sweetheart?" You repeated incredulously. He probably just hadn't bothered to remember your name.
He laughed, like his palm wasn't just as sweaty as yours, half-dragging you along the path to the beach while you studied his annoyingly pretty side profile.
"I bet you're like one of those candies, y'know the ones that start off sour and turn sweet?" He pushed his luck further, leaning in closer to tease you.
Pretty boys had their own playbook - flirty and fun until they fucked you and wanted to forget it ever happened. Until they got lonely enough to want to do it again and held it over your head.
You had a feeling Satoru was the same.
In the outside world, maybe you'd be open to having a one night stand with him. But here? You couldn't exactly sneak out of the bed in the morning and never see him again.
"So you're saying I'm sour?" You raised an eyebrow, watching his face scrunch up as he tried to wiggle his way out of his own words.
"Can I get a do-over?" He pouted, trying to pull you closer, but it was already a little awkward just holding his hand considering how much longer his arms were compared to yours, his hip continuously bumping into your side as you walked.
You were pretty sure you could give him ten do-overs and it wouldn't change much.
"Try again," You acquiesced. You briefly considered yanking your hand free, but secretly? Something you wouldn't even admit in the stupid confessional they'd surely force you to do later?
It was kind of nice to hold someone's hand.
Comfort you couldn't admit you wanted. Even if it was from someone whose very presence screamed he couldn't spell commitment.
"Hi, how are you?" He flashed you a million dollar smile, a pretty petty gleam of amusement in his eyes as he repeated your previous words.
There was the sound of whispering behind you, a little too-aware of the film crew following you to fully pretend you were alone. But the beach ahead was pretty at least, pre-decorated with a cute picnic, food splayed out that you weren't even supposed to eat, pillows and champagne and flowers on the oversized blanket.
It was starting to get chilly out, a cool breeze hanging in the air blowing in across the crashing waves, the sun on it's slow descent down in the sky.
"I could use a drink," You murmured, eyeing the champagne flutes. You were slipping off your heels next, holding onto his well-muscled forearm to steady yourself before sinking your feet into the sand and awkwardly sit on the blanket. "You want one?"
"Nah, I'm not a big drinker," He shrugged, a dumb grin still on his face as he watched you grab the bottle from the bucket. You paused, brows knitting together right as you were about to pop it open.
Drinking and fucking was kinda like, the point of being here.
He didn't really seem like the kind of guy who'd miss out on half the fun.
"You? Really?"
"Not my thing," He hm-ed, plopping down across from you. "But if you wanna get wasted, I'd be more than happy to carry you back."
God, if it was half as awkward airing as it felt, this was probably terrible tv.
"Wow, what a gentleman," You wryly muttered, suppressing just how badly you wanted to scoff at him.
"I try," He so-proudly beamed.
Yeah, the key word there was try.
"You know-"
"Could you guys lay down? The angle is weird here," One of the producers called out, interrupting you before you could bait him with another insult.
You started to prop up some pillows, attempted to make yourself more comfortable without flashing the camera while Gojo laid out his obnoxiously long legs and scoot closer to you.
"Want me to open that for you?" He offered, nodding towards the champagne bottle.
You passed it over, how he even puffed his chest out once it was in his hands, clearly proud to be of any use to you.
Except, it was excruciatingly obvious he'd never done it before.
He barely managed to get the gold foil off the top, squinting as he tried and failed to pop it.
It was the tiniest bit endearing - watching such a cocky guy struggle with something so simple.
"Here, just let me." You held your hand back out, but he pouted, pushing out his bottom lip dramatically and holding it out of your reach.
"I can do it," He insisted, trying to tug the cork free instead of twisting the bottle the way he was supposed to. Every movement he made just jostled the bottle more, shaking it too much.
"You shouldn't-" Your warning was cut short.
You barely heard the pop! before something cold and wet was showered over both of you. Drenched in champagne and smelling like fucking nail polish remover, wiping the alcohol off your face as he just laughed, brushing his now-soaked hair back out of his face.
"Oops," He grinned.
He reached over, using his his thumb to swipe away a damp streak it left, or maybe fixing your makeup before he tucked a damp strand of hair behind your ear.
"Are you always such a terrible listener?" You mumbled, embarrassment choking up in your throat, knowing full well all your friends would be watching an idiot douse you in champagne a few nights from now.
Satoru was laughing, shaking some of the drink off his button-up that was only half buttoned, the white fabric soaked through and sticking to his toned chest.
You wished you could be the sort of person who could laugh it off too, let him in just enough to be having fun.
But the more he tried to win you over with words, the worse you felt.
Nothing was more humiliating than knowing someone was full of shit and falling for it anyway.
"Hey, I'm a great listener," He argued, squinting over at you and shielding his face from the sun.
"Oh really?" You rolled your eyes again, but it only seemed to make his light up.
In fact, they were flickering down to your lips.
And for a guy who just said he didn't drink, he was staring like he wanted to lick every last drop of alcohol off of them.
You parted your lips, about to point it out before one of producers coughed.
"What were you were saying?" He asked, as if he was genuinely interested in hearing your thoughts when you both knew you were just planning on teasing him.
The same someone cleared their throat, making a point out of it.
You guessed they were trying to remind you to keep it on track. To recite back the questions people expected to hear if you were just going to keep using your mouth to mock him since you wouldn't stick your tongue down his throat.
"What exactly are you hoping to find here?" You managed to force out a semi-polite question, taking the still-damp bottle from his hands and pouring some in one of the champagne flutes.
He tilted his head from side to side to give off the impression he was really thinking about his answer while you brought the drink up to your lips for your first actual sip, still trying to pretend you weren't wet and uncomfortable and over it already.
"My wife."
You choked on your drink.
Really, he wasn't so far off from the lies you were peddling in all those interviews and photoshoots. But there was a weird sort of sincerity to his words like he might actually believe it.
"Good luck to you," You murmured, taking another swig. "And her."
"Who says I'm not looking at her already?" He hm-ed, sounding unfairly suave delivering a line so cringey.
"If I ever say yes to that, I hope somebody has my therapist on speed dial," You dryly replied, despite how every single one of your barbed taunts only elicited a bigger smile out of him, another carefree laugh.
"I bet you'll fall in love with me by the end of the summer," He challenged with another one of those stupid winks, entirely convinced and confident in himself.
"You'll get sick of me after a week," You insisted, eyes narrowing at him as you shook your head.
Guys like him got bored.
It wouldn't take that long for his interest to face when some sparkly new fish to catch came along. Someone softer and brighter and more malleable to his tastes.
"Nuh-uh."
"Uh-huh," You mimicked him.
"Guess I'll just have to prove it to you," He teased, picking up a chocolate-covered strawberry from the forgotten picnic platter and plopping it in his mouth.
His face scrunched up at the taste, probably from some of the champagne getting on it too.
A giggle slipped out, an involuntary laugh at how grossed out he looked.
It didn't go unnoticed.
"See? I already got a laugh out of you," He pointed out through a mouthful of food, a smudge of chocolate staining his lips even as he smirked.
You laughed again, picking up another strawberry and pushing it through his parted lips to shut him up. He let you too, grabbing your hand before you could pull it back so you could hold the strawberry in place while he took a big bite.
He kept it there even after he finished it, plucking the leaves away and pulling your fingers in his mouth instead, his tongue swirling around to your first knuckle to clean off where some of the chocolate had melted.
And you loathed it, but it sparked a flicker of heat in the bottom of your stomach, stirred something that'd been buried in the grave, his eyes half-lidded and hungry.
Admittedly, he was just as attractive as he was annoying.
"Stop here, guys, time to swap. We're behind schedule already," A grating voice called out.
You had to pull your fingers out of his mouth, turning your face away before he could see the flush, fixing your hair and hurrying to stand.
"Let me help," He mumbled in your ear, quick to follow, holding out his arm again for you to steady yourself to slip your heels back on.
"You don't have to," You mumbled, holding on a little longer when you had to take them back off to get the sand out before putting them back on.
"I wanna," He emphasized, and you honestly couldn't decide what to make of that.
Or him.
If he just wanted to get in your panties, you wished he'd just be upfront about it. Instead of putting on the whole wife-guy routine and pretend he genuinely liked you.
He didn't know you.
"You can come this way," Someone else pulled you aside and interrupted once your shoes were back on. Trudging back through the path you came, although this time they gave you a mirror to touch up your makeup one more time.
At least you'd went with the waterproof kind.
You passed by Manami, a pretty smile on her lips, clearly pleased with how her date had gone.
It was easy to see why considering who her date was.
The producers led you to a separate, more-secluded spot on the beach, an actual table set up this time, fresh (you hoped) wine glasses and dinner lined up on a pretty lace tablecloth.
Suguru was reclining back in his chair, legs spread and his head turned to face the setting sun over the ocean. The quiet crashing of waves on the shore and the pretty pink hues of the sky painted an even prettier picture. The sharp slope of his nose and the slight crinkle by his eyes, his features, relaxed, content.
In another time, another life, it'd be nice to imagine him being yours, this being some sort of honeymoon. A nice dinner, a handsome man, a free vacation.
But no, this was reality tv.
And the next second, you were being shoved forward, guided over to the empty seat. It was at a weird angle, not directly across from each other, but pushed closer together so it'd be easier to get shots of both of you talking.
"Suguru, right?" You asked, wishing you weren't so wet still, your dress clinging to your body like a second skin as you tried to tug the hem down.
"Yeah," He nodded, one corner of his mouth curled up in a sly smirk as his dark eyes flitted back over you. There was an intensity there that was different from Satoru's - but just as magnetic, drawing you in deeper. You felt the way they dragged over your dripping clothes and damp hair. "Sorry about Satoru."
You remembered it being mentioned in their intro packages that they knew each other outside of here - but it would've been obvious just from your first impression that they were far from strangers. If you recalled correctly, they were the kind of best friends who came across as a package deal, close enough you'd probably feel like a third party if you dated one anyway.
"Friends?" You asked anyway, wanting to hear it from him.
"Since high school," Suguru answered, the definition of cool and collected as he went to sip his wine. His attention hadn't left your face, his focus still on you as he pressed the rim of the glass to his lips. You watched him swallow, watched the bob of his throat and the harsh line of his jaw before the glass returned to the table with a soft clink. "He dragged me here."
"Can't say that surprises me," You muttered, suppressing a small smile. "I can't really imagine you would have any trouble finding someone interested in you."
"Oh?" He cocked a brow up.
It was his smirk that made you blush, the corner of his mouth curling up while his eyes burned through you. It was a challenge in itself - asking if you were interested.
"Am I wrong?" You refused to admit that you were very much interested. "Or are you just not a relationship kind of guy?"
For someone as hot as him?
You weren't embarrassed to admit you'd take a single night over nothing.
"I could be," He nonchalantly said, shrugging his shoulders.
"Yeah?"
And when he was the one looking at your lips, you were tempted to lean across the table and taste him yourself. There was some invisible simmering tension in the air, something other than the summer heat and the buzz of infects somewhere. You fiddled with the stem of your wine glass, a lightness in your chest, a warmth you hadn't expected spreading through to your fingers.
"What about you?" He asked. Suguru was staring like he knew though, staring like he could see through you and read your mind. "Are you a relationship kind of girl?"
"Depends on the guy," You answered.
"If it was me?"
You laughed at his coy smile, matching it with one of your own. "Hypothetically?"
"Sure," He shrugged like you'd actually believe that.
"I could be," You echoed his previous reply.
His chuckle was smooth, comforting. One of his fingers slid across the tablecloth, grazing against the tips of your own.
It felt weirdly intimate.
Or it might just be wishful thinking - it had been months since you'd last gotten laid. And now you were sitting across one of the most handsome men you'd ever seen.
He was careful with his words, an air of caution around him, something that made you want to know more.
Perhaps it was the fact he didn't even seem like he wanted to even be here that much that pulled you in - the opposite of someone like Satoru who adored any attention.
"My friends signed me up too," You admitted, moving your hand so he could actually hold it.
His palms were cold, a few callouses pressing into your skin as he clasped it properly.
"I guess I should thank them then, huh?" He murmured.
One look in his warm eyes was enough for the realization to smack you in the face he was the sort of man who could absolutely shatter your still-mending heart into a million pieces.
You didn't want to buy into his honeyed words. Rebuked the idea of seriously dating anyone you met on-camera when every single thing he was saying could just be for show.
But couldn't you at least fuck him once? Or twice? Or, well, however many times he wanted over the next few weeks?
You dragged your thumb over his knuckle, tracing the thick veins and tendons of his oversized hands as you let your stare linger on his lips.
"Thank them for what, exactly?" You dared, rolling your chin up with your free hand and chewing on your bottom lip. You half-hoped to draw his attention where you hoped he'd kiss you.
"This," He muttered, leaning across the small divide to cup your face properly, tilting his head to the side to press a soft kiss to your mouth.
Your eyes fluttered shut, squeezing his hand absentmindedly as his other one tangled in your hair. It probably would've been sexier if you weren't starkly aware of the camera crew around you.
"Alright, we're wrapping it up here," One of the producers shouted, and you could feel the way Suguru's jaw tightened in irritation, his fingers squeezing your hand back before he reluctantly pulled away.
"I guess you'll be coming back to the villa now, though?" His low murmur made something in your chest seize.
At least you would probably be paired with him, would get to share a bad and pick up where you left off, perhaps even have an uninterrupted conversation.
"Yeah," You nodded, still a little breathless.
But then one of the production assistants was tapping on your shoulder and guiding you away, another hurrying to speak to him.
Talking about confessional times and what they wanted you to say, coaching you on what not to talk about as you threw another look back at him.
He was still staring at you, the hand that had just been in yours lifting up for a small wave.
You were barely listening to the chorus of people around you, letting yourself be tugged around until you were eventually brought back to where a very annoyed Manami was standing, her brows furrowed as she brushed the sand off her dress.
It seemed Satoru was zero for two tonight.
"You can have that idiot," She huffed once she saw you. "What a prick."
You didn't want him.
But you didn't even get the chance to ask what happened before the producer who'd been in your room last night walked over, phone once again in hand.
"We'll head back to the villa now and have you two walk back in the boys," She informed you, tilting her head to the side like she was listening in to something on her ear piece.
"I'll be with Suguru, right?" Manami spoke up, eyes crinkling as she chirped.
You wanted to say something, wanted to argue, but the producer was just nodding along.
"I actually think I like him," Manami muttered next to you, fixing her dress. She even sounded giddy. You didn't even know the guy, not well, but you felt sort of ill over it, a hard lump forming in your throat. "We kissed."
"Yeah?" You choked out.
God, what a goddamn asshole.
What kind of shitty karma had you earned in some past life for this?
"Anyway, the other one asked about you," She sighed, brushing her hair back as she talked. Her nose wrinkled at the memory, as if it annoyed her. "Must actually like you. So I guess it works out for both of us, huh?"
18+. sum 𓏲 you and fratkuna are the kind of couple who break up & make up every other week. but when you swear you’re done with him and go off to date his rival, the new football team captain, can his frat brothers help him get you back ?
‘sabotaging your ex girlfriend’s new relationship to get her back? this can’t be a good idea.’
ΣΧ
“‘high value woman’ but your new man’s a misogynist?!”
ryomen sukuna’s time of irritation is approximately 9:17 PM.
toru gojo’s bedroom floor is velvet carpet with half-empty beer bottles rotting on the rug. his center table is littered with poker cards & sato’s candy wrappers, and geto suguru & sato gojo are avoiding eye contact so they don’t burst out in laughter as sukuna glares daggers at toru’s screen.
toru’s hands shake under sukuna’s glare but he holds the phone steady. the instagram post on screen is a slap to sukuna’s face.
HOT NEW CAMPUS COUPLE : FOOTBALL CAPTAIN NAOYA ZENIN & Y/N L/N !
and the photo is you. swollen lips & pretty gaze & a dress so short it makes sukuna’s jaw ache—but not as much as naoya’s arm around you does. beside you toji’s cousin naoya zenin is there, grin cocky, eyes glinting in the camera light and arm around your waist because his fugly ass doesn’t know you like to be held around the hips instead. sukuna’s jaw ticks.
“i’m gonna get her back.”
sato, suguru and toru all glance towards each other. they know what that voice means. there’s no talking him out of it.
but toru lowers his phone, tries regardless. “are you sure? y/n’s always been strong headed. she might hate you even more if—“
sukuna grabs his crotch aggressively. “keep talking and i’ll jizz on your face.”
toru squeaks. sukuna continues. “i know my own girl. know she’s a fucking brat, doing this shit to get on my nerves,” he growls. “she’s bored. testing me. probably doing this shit to see if i’ll show up at practice ‘n break his jaw for touching her.”
suguru is biting back a grin. “calling her your girl when she broke up with you last week? and the week before that?”
sukuna takes a swig of his beer but his jaw is ticking behind the can. “exactly. she knows where home is.”
sato’s grin is clumsy. “i dunno, man. seems like she’s got a new address,” he elbows suguru’s side. “naoya’s pants, wellesley street east.”
“M-4-Y, 1-H-5,” suguru snickers.
“glad you two have the energy to joke,” sukuna sets down his beer with a thud. “means you’ll have energy to help me out tomorrow night.
tomorrow? tomorrow can only mean one thing.
naoya zenin’s one million snap score party. and also, the party that the college football team throws every year before the start of a new season. the party that sukuna hasn’t been to since he quit the role of captain. the party where sukuna first found you drunk & dizzy in an alley just out back, perfume strong & heels clicky, stumbling into his chest with a clumsy grin & flushed cheeks as he held your hips against him to keep you from falling. you reeked of vodka & you kept slurring his name & ryomen sukuna thought you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.
and now his pretty thing is somewhere curled into naoya’s side, and the thought makes sukuna’s throat itch.
suguru cocks his head. “so i’m guessing you have a plan?”
sukuna chugs his beer. “you know the plan.”
they do—they all do. sato is already grinning. suguru is shaking his head. toru is watching the fratboys with worried eyes.
sato, suguru and sukuna’s lips curl.
the plan?
sabotage.
# SHOW TIME !
at naoya zenin’s one million snapscore party, the air is heavy with the smell of drunken bodies / athlete sweat / something alcoholic dripping off a countertop. geto’s piercings glimmer in the evening dim. ryomen sukuna has his jaw tight. and sato gojo is already drunk and somewhere dancing, legworking with ease as rema’s azaman blares through the speakers.
sukuna and suguru are still scanning the scene when naoya saunters up to them.
naoya zenin is badly dyed hair, bright green eyes and a cocky lilt to his shoulders. he’s got the team’s varsity jacket around him—GO PANDAS!—and a grin too cruel to be kind. he raises his hands in faux welcome.
“suguru, sukuna,” naoya smiles. “didn’t think you’d make it.”
sukuna eyes him. “congratulations on your snapscore.”
“and my new position as captain,” naoya bites so hard his teeth show. “how’s retirement treating you, ryomen? enjoying life off the pitch?”
suguru slings an arm around sukuna, quick to come to his defence. “he’s doing great, thank you. how about you, captain? have you found confidence in your buck teeth?”
naoya’s smile dissolves.
“nice engagement bait,” naoya recovers. he’s grinning again but his lips only stretch, teeth hidden. “you always did bite like a bitch, suguru.”
“i try.”
“enjoy the booze,” naoya lets out a jagged breath, turning away. “try not to cry in your cups too much.”
sukuna has his arms crossed over his chest, suguru’s arm still slung around him. but he’s not watching naoya walk away. his eyes have drifted to you.
you across the party and perched on a seat at the bar, a glass of something pink in your hands and a dress so short he can trace the swell of your ass. and you’re laughing—oh god, you’re laughing, tucking hair behind your ear with flushed cheeks and a carefree smile. sukuna’s mouth dries. god, you’re so pretty. you’re always so pretty, and sukuna wants to tell you that; wants to curl up beside you and wipe away the red dribbling down your chin and maybe tug your dress down over your ass. you’d swat at him and tell him he’s ruining your outfit. and then you’d kiss him because you like when he gets territorial anyways.
you laugh again, and ryomen sukuna is already moving.
that is, until naoya curls up behind you.
sukuna stops in his tracks. naoya snakes an arm around your waist from behind—your waist again, not your hips, fucking idiot—and sukuna’s jaw goes slack. he watches naoya press his parched, un-vaselined lips to your shoulder blades, and he doesn’t miss the slight tense of your shoulders before you ease into his chest.
sukuna’s jaw ticks. “suguru.”
“hm?”
“get sato. it’s time.”
suguru grins. “yes, boss.”
suguru disappears into the crowd. sukuna’s eyes shift back to you, back to naoya, back to the way his hands slide up your side and the way he whispers something in your ear. you laugh again and sukuna’s jaw twitches, because the sound itself comes out strained.
you’re uncomfortable. and he’d be a fool to miss it.
suguru reappears with sato in tow.
sato is drunk. swaying. red-bruised lips & booze in his breath. his cheeks are flushed pink & his hair sweat-sticky and he’s slung over suguru’s back like his life depends on it. he nuzzles into suguru’s neck. “mmh—you called?”
sukuna’s eyes are still on you. he nods towards the bar, “you see naoya?”
sato squints. “so ugly,”
“he’s got his hands on my girl.”
sato frowns. “that won’t do.”
“yeah,” sukuna murmurs, lifting a cup of punch off a passing tray. suguru is wiping rum off sato’s lip. sukuna passes the cup to sato. “you remember the plan?”
sato gives a drunken nod. and then he’s off.
the plan is simple: red punch, ugly naoya, combination. sato gojo is supposed to be a ninja, an image of stealth and diligence. instead he’s a wobbly drunken mess, giggling boyishly as he stumbles towards the bar.
he’s so close, sukuna’s eyes narrow. just a few more steps and then naoya will be drenched—
but sato trips. and as he falls, he pulls naoya’s pants down with him.
the situation is a whole mess.
punch everywhere. sticky on naoya’s shocked face, on sato’s fallen figure, on the party’s hardwood floor. and everyone is watching—staring—at naoya zenin covered in punch, pants on the floor. those boxers—is that undertale?
naoya’s face is blood drenched. “you drunken fucking idiot—”
“m’sorry,” sato cries, face down, hands still gripping naoya’s pants. “was tryna—hic—spill the punch, hnghh—suguru—“
“get the fuck off me!” naoya kicks at him, pants rippling around his ankles. someone is pulling out their phone to record. another is already recording. everyone’s laughing, including you, and even ryomen sukuna is struggling to bite back the chuckle on his lips.
naoya scrambles out of the party, shuffling out in his sans undertale boxers with his pants around his feet. suguru has already made his way to sato’s side.
sato’s eyes are teary, and his forehead is bruised red from naoya’s kick. suguru cups his face, brows knit. “hey man. you alright?”
sato groans. “i spilled the punch and the pants.”
“mhm,” geto snorts, smushing sato’s cheeks between his palms. “good job, buddy.”
“i did good?”
“so good,” geto smiles down at him. “come on, up you go.”
suguru helps sato up to his feet. sukuna is already moving.
towards you, you at the bar with your palm over your mouth to muffle your laugh as you watch naoya flee into the night. sukuna steps into your space. your eyes are still on the door before you slowly, slowly, turn your head around to him.
your pupils are blown. cheeks flushed and chest heaving from the alcohol, and your eyes focus for a minute before you grin.
“aww, look,” you beam. “if it isn’t my ex-boyfriend.”
sukuna shouldn’t take advantage.
he knows if you were sober, it’d be a different story. he knows you’d kick and hit at him, maybe snarl about his audacity to show his face around you. but you’re too many drinks too deep and as drunk and dizzy as the day he met you in that alleyway, so instead of kicking at him you lean forward to cup his cheeks.
sukuna tilts his head to kiss your palm. “Hi, baby. you’re drunk.”
“noo,” you slur. “i’m tipsy.”
“mhm,” sukuna grunts, stepping forward to slide his arms around your hips before you can lean off the chair. he tugs your dress down over your ass, then strokes your thigh. “third glass?”
“so close!” you squeeze his neck happily. “i’m on my sixth.”
sukuna hugs you back. but his face is scowling.
naoya zenin—that fucking idiot. sukuna knows your limit is four. he knows that any more than that and you’ll be sick for days, groggy and weak and unable to get out of bed. he squeezes your hips. “s’too much, sweetheart.”
“i know,” you pout into his neck. “i couldn’t resist.”
oh, his poor girl. sukuna kisses your hair. just once—just because he missed the warmth of your skin—but then he does it again and again and you giggle into his chest. fuck. he’s missed the sound bad.
“i’m sorry.”
sukuna’s heart stops. “what?”
“for going past my limit.”
sukuna can feel you pouting in his neck. he sighs, because of course that’s what you meant. not that you were sorry for leaving him or whatever his delusions had him hearing in that moment. after all, he should be the one apologizing anyway. right?
“you’re okay,” he hugs you closer, pressing your head into his chest. god, you’re gonna be so sick tomorrow; and the day after, and the day after. “i’m not mad, pretty. don’t apologize.”
you nod against him. “are you gonna take care of me?”
sukuna wishes drunk you didn’t talk so much.
because it hurts to have to say no, no but i want to, no but i would if i knew you wouldn’t hate me for it when you’re sober, so he doesn’t say it at all. instead he traces circles on your hips. “gimme your phone.”
you rest your chin on his chest and beam up at him drunkenly instead.
sukuna lets out a sigh, shifting just enough to reach for your purse without jerking you off his chest. he slips your phone into his palm and tries for the passcode. it unlocks in one go. the passcode is still his birthday, and sukuna sighs again.
“i’m gonna call shoko,” he murmurs into your ear. “she’ll take care of you, yeah?”
he could take care of you too, you know. if you’d let him. but you wouldn’t, so he bites his lip.
“shoko?” you coo into his neck. “i love shoko.”
“i know,” sukuna squeezes your thigh. “i know you do.”
TORU’S REMARK: I HAVE A BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS…
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #2: GO BIG OR GO HOME !
taught by: geto suguru
“like the great oikawa tooru said, if you’re gonna hit it? hit it until it breaks.”
ΣΧ
ryomen sukuna is itch itch itching.
itching to know if you’re okay. itching to know if shoko—or, ugh, naoya—let you have those crackers you like to help you settle your stomach, kept your room slightly warm, and for christ’s sake, kept you away from the advil. you love to reach for them after a night of drinking. sukuna knows it only makes your headaches worse.
you haven’t posted on instagram in days.
not that he should know since you have him blocked. but luckily your account is public and sato’s allowed him to log in on his fake instagram hair page. SlayedBySato. hit them up on IG.
sukuna is lying on the couch, nose buried in a cushion. he watches your highlights with bleary eyes. in the one he’s viewing, you’re in a tight black dress, red and blue hues lighting up your face. you’re dancing the night away, cheeks flushed, lashes fluttering. his pretty party girl. god.
“look at my girl,” he mumbles into the pillow. “so fucking hot. i’ll slap the shit out of naoya zenin.”
geto laughs. “shouldn’t have let her get away, then.”
on the floor, sato has his head in suguru’s lap, pouting as geto presses an iced cloth to his forehead. he flinches. “sugu, how much longer?”
“shh,” geto hisses, even though the swelling went down ages ago.
sukuna rolls so his body lays upright, setting his phone down on his chest. “it’s not enough.” he glares at the ceiling. “that stunt with his boxers? did nothing but make a bunch of people laugh.”
suguru and sato look at each other. geto’s voice goes low.
“what are you saying?”
“i’m saying he’s a fraud and i want everyone to fucking know it.” sukuna sits up, tossing his phone unto the coffee table. “he’s still captain of the football team. but i have a video that could change that.”
“the season’s first game, naoya’s first official game as captain…” sato thinks. “are you saying you wanna pull something?”
“i’m thinking of playing it in the locker room TV. make the other boys lose respect for him.”
sato and suguru look at each other again.
“boring.” sato says.
“huh?”
“toru has access to the AV booth,” a slow grin curls its way onto suguru’s lips. “would be a fucking shame if he and i were to mess with the feed on game day.”
sato sits up from suguru’s lap. “locker room TV? boring as fuck, man. the sukuna i know? he’d play whatever video he has in front of the whole fucking stadium.”
sukuna looks at his frat brothers. at their wicked grins and stupid pride and willingness to follow him to the ends of the earth. it’s foolish, honestly. going to such lengths to destroy naoya zenin because he dared to look twice at his girl. but he’s a stupid man, and his frat brothers are even stupider, and this is what the sigma-chi brotherhood is really about.
sukuna’s lip twitches. “i fucking love you guys.”
“we know,” suguru says. “and don’t ever say that shit again.”
# GAME DAY !
LET’S GO PANDAS !
the chanting in the stadium sounds more like a roar.
the air is electric—buzzing, vibrating. cheerleaders on the sidelines with cheeks smeared in blue & red paint. there’s the scent of hot dogs & fried food grilling. a crowd in jerseys with flags in their hands. in the kaisen campus stadium, the midsummer air is thick with anticipation. it’s game day.
sukuna sucks the air into his lungs. he hasn’t been to the stadium in a minute.
sato has run off to get some hot dogs. suguru and toru should already be in the AV room. the pitch has no football players but marching band members instead, drums and trombones blaring music across the grass. sukuna should go over to his and sato’s seats. instead he’s on the stairs, staring down at you.
is it fair for you to look this happy with him away from you?
he shakes the thought away. he always wants you to be happy—he thinks. but happiness with naoya? naoya zenin? he’s not quite sure about that. actually, he is. sukuna knows he’s fucking furious. he knows he doesn’t like the fact that you have naoya’s number on your back, or the fact that you’re jumping and cheering his name when the players haven’t even walked out yet. his jaw ticks. something ugly curls in his throat. he swallows it away.
he stares a little longer. watches your skirt swish around your thighs, watches your arms wave in the air, watches your hips sway to the music. you’ve clearly recovered and your dancing is out of tune as always, and sukuna bites back a smile.
he’s still smiling when you look up at him.
his face falls.
your head lifts towards him, and he doesn’t miss the way your body tenses. your arms drop to your sides. your palms curl into fists.
uh oh.
you look away, pausing for a moment. and then you trudge between bodies and make your way over to what sukuna can only assume is the concession stand.
sukuna follows. he doesn’t give himself time to think any better of it.
——
caramel popcorn and half-burnt sugar. the concession stand smells like caramel popcorn and half-burnt sugar.
and vanilla, but not the syrupy sweet kind. it’s the kind that sukuna smells whenever he kisses that spot below your ear, or presses his lips to the dip of your waist. at the concession stand, sukuna stands behind you with his hands in his pockets, pretending he doesn’t see the frown on your face as you stand in line in front of him.
“go away.” you deadpan.
“i’m here to eat.”
“You will choke on your food and die.”
harsh.
sukuna’s used to it though. so when it’s your turn to get a donut, he slips out his wallet and drops some cash before you can even protest. the stand worker takes the excess money with a grin. you turn to sukuna with a frown.
“what are you doing?”
your tone is mean but ryomen sukuna can’t take you seriously. your hair has ribbons tangled throughout it. you look so fucking cute.
he looks you in the eyes. “let me check your temperature. feeling feverish? at all?”
you only eye him in response. “stop caring about me.”
“can’t,” he mutters. “let me check it.”
he pads closer, and you’re still glaring daggers at him, but you don’t bite his palm as it cups your face. he pats the back of his hand against your neck, then your forehead, then your chest—and then his palm’s on your cheek again.
“you had six drinks that night,” he murmurs, thumb stroking your cheek. “was so worried. don’t like when you go over your limit.”
“i’m fine,” your voice is sharp—or trying to be. “don’t touch me.”
he shifts his hand into his pocket. “okay.” he says. “i’m gonna get you back.”
that sets you off. “i’m done with you, asshole!” you stab your finger into his chest. “i’m serious—no more on and off bullshit. i’ve moved on. i’m with naoya, for fuck’s sake. you just can’t accept that cuz of your stupid little ego!”
you’re still stabbing his chest. sukuna only watches you patiently, letting you yell to your heart’s content.
“and i hate you!” you tug his collar just to shove him away again. “i’m moving on. i’m happy now. so don’t try to act like you’re still my boyfriend!”
“sorry,” he trails off. he’s still watching you poke him with half-lidded eyes.
“i like your ribbons,” he murmurs. “you look pretty.”
“ugh!”
you storm off, and sukuna bites his cheek as your ribbons swing behind you. his hand finds the spot where you hit his chest and he sighs.
ryomen sukuna needs to get you back. and the sooner he does? the better.
———-
sato gojo has five bomboclat hotdogs in his lap.
how humongous! and worst of all, he refuses to share them with sukuna, who left his own food at the concession stand while his mind fixated on your face. you looked so pretty yelling at him. fuck. has he gone mad?
he shakes the thought away. he has his phone in his hands, facetime call with suguru on screen. toru gojo is setting up a monitor in the background with shaky hands. suguru has his phone at a poor angle and he’s humming into its mic with glee.
sato hooks his mustard-sticky chin over sukuna’s shoulder. “yo, sugu.” he says to the call.
“yo,”
“i have five hotdogs,” sato says humbly. “i’m saving a quarter for you.”
“love your generosity.”
“thank you, brother.”
sukuna shoves sato’s face away, ignoring the pout on his face as he rubs his still-bruised forehead. “suguru. how’s the prep going?”
“we’re all good here,” suguru says, turning the call camera to face toru and the set-up. “toru, you’re on video. say hi.”
“uh—hi!”
“hey, twin!” sato’s chin is back on sukuna’s shoulder. he frowns. “i didn’t save you any hotdogs.”
“that’s okay,” toru pushes up his glasses. “i don’t like hotdogs much anyways.”
suguru laughs behind the camera. “aww. i’ll get you a hotdog, buddy.”
“guys, focus.” sukuna pinches his nose. “the footage. is it ready?”
“yup,” suguru pops the p. just waiting for your signal.”
down on the pitch, the teams are lively.
the stadium is roaring. confetti everywhere, cheers and screams from fangirls and fanboys alike. the campus team jogs out in high spirits. and naoya zenin is there, golden boy of the season, arms in the air and waving like he’s the best thing since sliced bread. sukuna tries not to roll his eyes.
it’s a new season, and this one begins with a speech.
and who else to deliver it but the new captain, naoya? he has his helmet in his arm, grin wide, eyes gleaming. he stands on the podium with a mic to his mouth, and then he clears his throat.
his voice bellows. “GO PANDAS!”
the crowd roars. “go pandas!” sato cheers along. sukuna smacks his head.
“it is my honor, as the new captain of the football team, to welcome you all to the new season. kaisen university has suffered many losses. but this year, under my lead, i swear to you all—victory!”
the crowd roars again. sato is smart enough to not get caught up in the high spirits this time.
naoya raises a hand to calm the crowd. “but first off, i want to say a thank you to our alumni, sponsors, team—“
suguru turns the phone camera to himself, grinning. “i think this is the time?”
“your thinking is correct.”
“hit it, toru.”
toru fumbles with the control panel. he plugs in a mic, and suguru brings his mouth to the head.
“hey naoya,”
suguru’s voice crackles through the stadium speakers. the crowd stills. the football team on the grass is frozen in confusion.
“the alumni, sponsors, team you’re talking about,” you can hear the smile in suguru’s voice. “is it these ones?”
toru hits a button.
the big screen flickers.
the static shifts to a video. it’s one of those out of focus, wobbly snapchat ones, captioned ‘this guy’ with a bunch of laughing emojis. someone says something in the background. naoya scoffs.
“alumni? sponsors? they’re all a bunch of old has-beens with heart conditions,” he spits. “lousy fuckers with too much money. yet they can’t even buy us a trophy. idiots.”
but the video doesn’t end there. naoya is talking while he changes out of his uniform, focused on the locker in front of him. “and this shitty team,“ he bites. “dumb fuckers who would need help to wipe their asses. can’t follow instructions for shit. i see why sukuna fucking left.”
the video ends. all that’s left is the grey replay button on the screen. suguru shifts back away from the mic, holding his phone to his face. “holy shit,” he says into the facetime call. “we fucking did that.”
“yeah,” sukuna says. “we did.”
but he’s distracted. naoya is arguing with someone on field but sukuna doesn’t care to see what that’s about. instead his eyes are on you down near the pitch, your hands gripping the stands. he can’t tell if you’re confused, distraught, happy, sad. it’s fucking killing him. he needs to see your face.
sato climbs unto his chair. he cups his hands around his mouth. “GET HIM OFF THE FIELD!”
sukuna’s eyes widen in alarm, but others are already joining in. OFF-THE-FIELD! OFF-THE-FIELD! GET NA-O-YA OFF-THE-FIELD!”
on the pitch, naoya’s face flushes in embarrassment. “you sorry sacks of shit! do you fucking know who i am?!”
they’ll never know, because he never has the chance to tell. security guards are escorting him away before he even knows it.
sukuna’s eyes flit down the bleachers. back down to you. he finds you hopping at your seat, ribbons swishing as you chant along with the crowd.
OFF-THE-FIELD! OFF-THE-FIELD!
sukuna’s lip twitches. get him off the field.
———
“OFF-THE-FIELD! OFF-THE-FIELD!”
the chanting of the stadium is still buzzing in sukuna’s ears.
toru gojo left early, body aching with anxiety and in dire need of a nap. sukuna’s decided it’s about time to leave too—college football games aren’t really his thing anymore.
suguru and sato are geeking out over the whole thing behind him as sukuna trudges forward with his hands in his pockets. he’s half-smiling. he still can’t believe the whole scene had you chanting along and hopping eagerly in your seat. so cute. your ribbons were bouncing everywhere. so fucking cute.
“this is all your fault!”
sukuna knows that voice anywhere.
sato and suguru know it too. the smiles quickly leave their faces, brows knitting in alarm. the three quietly speed up towards the corridor, and the scene has sukuna seeing red.
“you dumb fucking whore,” naoya has you cornered against the wall. “all this shit because of you and your crazy, batshit boyfriend. ‘deal’ my fucking asshole. you see how they embarrassed me? because of you?”
sukuna’s already moving. but geto pulls him back. “listen.”
“you can’t pin this on me,” you try to keep your voice steady, but sukuna knows how your voice gets when you’re about to snap. naoya’s face is too close to yours for his liking. “you’re the one who said all that stupid shit. take some fucking responsibility.”
“responsibility?” naoya’s teeth curl. his breath is hot against your lip. “deal my fucking ass. this was your plan all along wasn’t it, stupid bitch? date me and get closer to me so you can sabotage me along with your boyfriend—”
“naoya,” your voice is dangerous. “i’m warning you, get back.”
“or what?” he spits in your face. “you’ll call your big bad boyfriend to save you? run to him like some stupid little whore—?”
you slap naoya silly.
and for a moment, sukuna’s shoulders un-tense. he’s been holding his breath the entire time, fingers curled into the wall, suguru’s hand on his chest stopping him from charging forward. but fuck, he’s proud. that’s his fucking girl. fuck. why’d he have to go and lose you?
but he can’t relax for long.
“you fucking bitch!”
naoya shoves you against the wall and you thud against it. sukuna doesn’t have to pry geto’s hand away—they’re already charging in.
naoya’s eyes widen as soon as he sees the trio. suguru swings. sato punches. but naoya dodges both, shoulder bumping into them as he slips between the two. he should be stopped by sukuna—but sukuna charges straight to your side, tugging you to his chest, breath heaving. naoya zenin escapes.
suguru and sato’s eyes flit towards the exit. their breathing is sharp, ragged. their eyes drift back to you in alarm. fuck. you’re more important.
sukuna hugs you to his chest, tight. his hand presses your head under his chin. he wants to pretend you’re not fucking shaking in his arms, but god you are, god—you are.
“you’re okay, baby,” he lies. your hand is fisting his collar like you want to pull him closer—or maybe push him away. “you’re okay. i’ve got you, you’re okay.”
you squeeze his collar. “ryo,” your voice is small, “don’t go after him.”
“i won’t baby, swear to god i won’t.”
but that’s just another lie. he presses your head further into his chest, palm heavy on your head. and then he mouths to suguru and sato:
GO. FUCKING. KILL HIM.
they don’t need to be told twice.
“ryo,” you whisper in his chest. “where are they going?”
“they’re giving us privacy,” he lies, and you’ll hate him for it tomorrow but he’ll settle for holding you today. he kisses your head. “are you hurt? hit your head? look at me.”
he can feel your lips jut out in his chest. “i’m fine.”
“i told you to look at me.”
you grumble, but oblige regardless. and god, sukuna’s heart aches. you have your chin on his chest, lashes tear rimmed, cheeks flushed and lips jut out in a stubborn pout. your eyes are glistening with wet. sukuna’s jaw aches.
naoya zenin has got to go to hell.
and he’ll send him there personally. he kisses your forehead, “gorgeous.” and then his thumbs wipe your lashes. “i’m gonna check if you’re concussed. do you have a headache?”
“this is so stupid,” you grumble. “i’m not concussed. and you know it.”
sukuna ignores you, cups your face in his palms. “what day of the week is it?”
“monday.” you grumble.
“gonna say some numbers, say them back to me in reverse,” he strokes your cheek. “four-two-four-two-five-six-four.”
you say them back perfectly. sukuna kisses your forehead. “good job baby,” he murmurs. “smart girl. does anything hurt?”
“no.”
“don’t lie to me.”
you rest the side of your face on his chest, pausing for a moment. then you raise a hand to grip his bicep. “my head hurts. just a little.”
“anything else?”
“i was scared,” you mutter, small. “i was so scared, ryo.”
naoya zenin has got to go to hell.
it’s the second time sukuna thinks that, but he shakes the thought away. he squeezes your hips. tilts your chin so you’re looking up at his face. your lashes are wet & your lips are wobbly & ryomen sukuna thinks you are grace.
“shh,” his thumb rubs your bottom lip. “you’re safe. you’re always safe with me.”
“i know,” your voice croaks as you nod.
“fuck, baby,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss your eyelids, nose, cheek, forehead. he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth. and then he finds your lips, tongue licking your mouth before he kisses you deep and slow.
“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs between your lips. “m’gonna kill naoya.”
“noo,” you whine, tugging his collar. “i told you not to do that.”
sukuna kisses his teeth, stepping back so he can hoist you up into his arms. his hands dip beneath your thighs to haul you up, and now you’re peering down at him through those sad, wet lashes. he kisses the pout off your lips. squeezes your thighs with his big hands. opens his mouth to say—
“i knocked that sucker out the park!”
sato and geto saunter back into the corridor, grins wicked, steps light. their knuckles are bloody and their jaws are bruised and their smiles are so bright they’re practically gleaming.
you turn to look at them. sukuna grabs the back of your head and pushes you into his shoulder. you pout into his neck as he keeps his palm heavy on your head.
sato is shadowboxing. “right hook—left hook—“ he punches the air. “clean hit to the jaw. taught the bloody wanker a good fucking lesson.” he fakes a british accent.
suguru nods, hands in his pockets & smile smug. “it was a good punch.”
“right?!”
sukuna’s lip tugs. he clicks his tongue as sato fakes punches at suguru, suguru dodging them with lazy laughter. sukuna clears his throat. sato and suguru perk up.
“take her to the nurse,” his voice is low. “make sure she doesn’t have a concussion.”
suguru steps forward and sukuna gently moves you into his arms. you frown up at suguru. “i’m not concussed.”
geto only chuckles, shifting your thigh over his arm to lift you better. “i don’t think so either. but your boyfriend runs a strict program, doesn’t he?”
“ex-boyfriend,” you bite. “and he’s not stricter than me.”
“never,” suguru smiles. “you’re the strictest.”
sukuna scoffs behind you. sato just says he likes your ribbons.
he watches the boys leave with you. sato bouncing beside geto, you still arguing in suguru’s arms. but then he thinks about naoya. thinks about how he called his girl a whore, how he had the guts to shove you against a wall instead of just taking your slap like a fucking man. his jaw locks.
his feet are already moving. but then he remembers. don’t go after him.
he’s already broken that promise, already sent sato and suguru to beat him bloody. and he trusts his frat brothers, trusts they didn’t go easy on him. but his knuckles ache. he wants to beat naoya down so fucking badly.
but he knows if he sees naoya now, it will only end in death. and sukuna won’t be the one in the deathbed.
sukuna slams his fist into the wall. “fuck!”
SUGURU’S REMARK: CHILLL. WE CONTROLLED THAT
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #3: ON THE OFFENSE !
taught by: toji zenin
‘want your girl back? then get fucking serious. stop playing her damn games and show her who’s the man.’
ΣΧ
“i have to kill naoya zenin.”
on toji zenin’s bedroom floor, ryomen sukuna’s jaw is tight. his hands dig into his thighs and suguru sits beside him with worried eyes. toji zenin is on the edge of his bed, running a brush through a jet black lace front wig. his son, five-and-a-half year old megumi zenin, sits beside him with a beach blond color 613 bone-straight wig on his head.
megumi tugs his father’s sleeve, voice flat.
“daddy, i have a buss down.”
toji doesn’t look up from his mannequin. “looks great, kiddo.”
toji zenin is twenty-four, stubble on his chin and single-ish student dad. single-ish because megumi’s mother left him when he turned twenty-one, but now he’s engaged to a pretty rich lady who sukuna still can’t believe forgave him for his lies. whatever—that’s a story for another day. even though toji’s girl is rich, he still insists on picking up odd jobs here and there to support him and meg rather than relying on her money. he’s currently working as a wig influencer for ISEEHAIR®.
on sukuna’s right, suguru has his hair in twin braids—courtesy of megumi zenin—and the same kind of ribbons you wore on game day—courtesy of SlayedBySato. he pats sukuna’s shoulder. “hey man, it’s okay. she’s okay.”
“you don’t fucking know that,” sukuna spits. “you don’t know it that bastard is still around her. i should’ve fucking killed him. slammed his skull into the wall back in the stadium.”
megumi blinks, gaze flat. he tugs his father’s sleeve. “daddy, is uncle kuna okay?”
“he’s in love,” toji answers, reaching for the hot comb. “makes you stupid.”
megumi nods, blond wisps of hair sticking to his cheek. then he stares at uncle sukuna for a bit longer before sliding his chubby body off the bed. “i’m gonna lay my edges.”
megumi zenin pads away.
suguru smiles after him. but then his smile dissolves, and he shifts his gaze back to sukuna. sukuna’s jaw is still tight, eyes glaring daggers at toji’s bedroom floor, and suguru elbows his side. “relax, man. brooding’s not gonna fix anything.”
“suguru’s right,” toji grumbles. “sato and suguru already beat him down. that didn’t make you feel better, did it?”
sukuna squints.
“you want your girl back? stop playing her damn games,” toji continues. “show her she can’t just keep playing around. you’ve embarrassed naoya, sabotaged him. all you’ve done is play along with her bratty lil’ antics.”
megumi’s voice comes from the other room. “daddy, can you help me lay my edges?”
“in a minute, kid.” toji doesn’t look up from the mannequin. “you want your girl? beat her at her own fucking game.”
sukuna grits his teeth. suguru slings an arm around him, braids swinging. “there’s a party for the football team tonight,” he says. “pretty sure y/n will be there again.”
sukuna swallows. thinks about it. and then the door swings open.
in comes sato gojo with megumi zenin in his arms. the five year old has wig edges laid, hair on fleek, and there is no doubt he’s been SlayedBySato.
sato’s grin is clumsy.
“did someone say party?”
# SHOW TIME !
at the party, the bass is so loud the speakers are moving.
not a lot—just a little—but the sound is so loud that sato is pouting as suguru helps him cover his ears. geto yells at some footballer to turn the music down. it takes them too long to comply.
sukuna is on a couch trying to ignore the babe curling herself into his side.
pamela? no—pairin. hair dyed mauve & flushed pink cheeks & a pretty nice rack—not that sukuna is looking. well he did look, he’s just a man and she’s got some pretty nice tits, but it’s okay. he still thinks yours are perkier.
pairin is trailing a hand up his thigh.
“ryo,” she coos. “it’s been forever. i’ve missed you.”
it has been forever. ryomen sukuna hasn’t slept with pairin, or any other girl for that matter, since he started dating you. yes you’ve broken up and gotten back together a hundred times, and technically when you’re broken up he’s a free man, but sukuna knows if he dared to touch another woman even when you’re not with him he’d never hear the end of it. so he’s always been patient. always waited.
which is why it’s not fucking fair for you to let naoya curl up behind you right now.
his eyes narrow. ryomen sukuna watches as naoya slips behind you at the bar, arm around your waist once again. fucking idiot. sukuna doesn’t even care about his arm on your waist instead of your hips anymore. once he gets his hands on naoya, he won’t even have an arm to begin with.
but sukuna doesn’t understand it.
he knows his girl. he knows you. he knows you bark more than you bite, he knows you’re bratty and stubborn and selfish and petty, and he knows men like naoya zenin are not your fucking type. he knows you would never put up with a man who would even yell at you—he found that out the hard way. so how could you let naoya touch you so casually after he dared to disrespect you?
are you really moving on?
he’s heard about it before. boundaries crumbling when people fall in love. is that what’s happening here? is naoya manipulating you? are you being pressured? can he kill him?
or do you actually—god forbid—like naoya?
sukuna scoffs. fucking hell if you do. he’ll kill naoya so you have no one to love. he’ll be damned if the man who steals your heart after him is one that doesn’t even know how to hold you right. naoya zenin will die today. ryomen sukuna will make sure of it.
“ryo,” pairin coos. when did her tits press against his chest?
she’s shifted so much that she’s practically on top of him, thigh digging into his hip. sukuna kisses his teeth. “don’t fucking call me that.”
pairin pouts, sliding a hand down his chest. “so mean. ever since you started dating that girl, you’ve become so mean to me.”
sukuna hears a laugh. it’s you, laughing at something the bartender says. another poor man who will be joining sukuna’s kill list. or maybe not, since you seem happy. you take a sip of your drink and frown when a drop lands on your chest. so cute.
pairin lifts a hand to shift his jaw back to her face. “you’re smiling.”
“yeah,” his voice is bored. “not at you.”
she frowns. “you used to be fun.”
“i used to be single.”
he still is right now, but not for long. never for long. he watches as you take another cup from the bartender. that’s drink number three. behind you naoya presses his face into your neck, and sukuna watches as you ease into him.
ryomen sukuna is blinded by rage.
he’s not quite thinking when he does it. he’s not quite thinking when he grabs pairin by the back of her neck, shoving her lips onto his. she squeaks, “mmph—!” as sukuna presses his lips against her. she tries to sneak her tongue past his lips. he keeps his mouth shut.
sukuna sees it.
he keeps his eyes open the whole time, and across the bar he watches your face lift. you’re laughing, you always are, but then your gaze drifts across the room to him.
the drink in your hand nearly drops.
you do that little thing where your chest heaves—anxious?—and your fingers curl tight around the cup in your hands. your brows furrow like you’re glaring but your lips are wobbly, oh god, they’re so wobbly—
he pushes pairin off his lap.
but it’s too late. you’re already off your chair, scrambling, and sukuna can’t see that well from this far but he knows your eyes are wet. he saw that tear slip down your cheek. he bolts for the exit but someone pulls him back by the shoulder—
“sukuna?” sato’s brows are knit. “what the fuck? what’s wrong man?”
sukuna’s chest is still heaving. his eyes are still on the door.
ryomen sukuna has lost the girl once again.
TOJI’S REMARK: NOT THAT KIND OF OFFENSE, IDIOT.
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #4: SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE !
taught by: sato gojo
“girls like y/n? they like to keep things difficult. and your prefer it just like that, don’t you?”
ΣΧ
ryomen sukuna hasn’t left his room in days.
two weeks. it’s been two weeks since he kissed another girl and watched you leave with tears in your eyes. and sukuna’s disgusted. stomach against the mattress and head buried in a pillow. you’re pretty when you cry—you’re always pretty—but not so much when he’s the cause of your tears.
SlayedBySato is officially blocked by you on instagram. sato’s tried to come in to cheer sukuna up, but to no avail. sukuna won’t eat anything suguru cooks, or any food at all for that matter. megumi sometimes opens his door and stares at him with bored eyes before leaving. toru comes into his room to sit on the floor and read. he’s always shaky & anxious and glancing up at sukuna every five seconds when he does that, but he still comes in to offer his company anyways.
sukuna’s scrolling through his phone, eyes watching nothing in particular. he gets a notification. probably suguru offering him food. maybe just team snapchat. he ignores it. but then his phone chimes again.
[ mine🫀: OBLIGATIONS.docx ]
sukuna’s brows knit. you have him blocked. that can’t be you.
but he clicks the message anyways. and it is you, and the first thing that greets him is your profile picture. you’re smiling big into the camera, angle low & silly, and somehow you still manage to look bright and beautiful. sukuna swallows. scrolls down to your new messages.
mine🫀: i know what you did at that party was just to get my attention.
mine🫀: since u wanna be pathetic i’ll give you more opportunity to do so
mine🫀: OBLIGATIONS.docx
sukuna clicks the document. there are no greetings, no ‘to whom may be concerned’, no date or titles. just three things.
WRITE ME A LETTER OF APOLOGY. HANDWRITTEN.
CLEAR OUT EVERY ITEM IN MY SHOPPING CART. USERNAME: y/nthebaddest PASSWORD: d1cknballs11037
APOLOGIZE TO ME AND ADMIT TO YOUR PLANS OF SABOTAGE IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE CAMPUS, JUST LIKE IN YOUR STUNT ON GAME DAY.
his phone chimes again.
mine🫀: you have one week. if you want me back you’ll complete everything on this list. if u dc just ignore it.
mine🫀: bye sukuna.
sukuna stares at the list. studies every word. contemplates each task.
and then he laughs.
yeah. that’s his fucking girlfriend.
# SHOW TIME
sukuna trudges into the frathouse living room with his laptop under his arm. at the center table sato is already there, humming contentedly while playing a game of monopoly by himself. he perks up when he hears the sound of the door.
“well, well,” sato sings. “look who crawled out of my grandfather’s ass.”
“what does that even mean?”
“ignore him,” suguru hums. he steps out from the kitchen with a plate of steaming hot jollof rice in his hands. he scoops some with his spoon, blows on it, and offers a bite to sukuna. “here, try some.”
“mm,” sukuna murmurs, leaning down for a bite. it’s hot, chewy—but then sukuna frowns.
“there’s no maggi in this rice.”
geto’s face falls. “no more food for you.”
whatever. sukuna sits at the center table, setting up his laptop right over sato’s monopoly game. he ignores sato’s protests as he opens up your shopping cart. “she sent me a list.” he announces. “of stuff i have to do if i want her back.”
suguru slides in at the opposite side of the table, brows raised. “show us.”
WRITE ME A LETTER OF APOLOGY. HANDWRITTEN.
CLEAR OUT EVERY ITEM IN MY SHOPPING CART. USERNAME: y/nthebaddest PASSWORD: d1cknballs11037
APOLOGIZE TO ME AND ADMIT TO YOUR PLANS OF SABOTAGE IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE CAMPUS, JUST LIKE IN YOUR STUNT ON GAME DAY.
sato blinks at the screen. “dick n’ balls,” he smiles wide. “i love your girlfriend.”
“tread lightly.”
suguru squints at the last item. “this is bad. she’s saying she wants you to confess in front of the whole school? like on game day?” his eyes lift to sukuna. “the dean might actually suspend you if we pull something. you know how much trouble i got in when they heard my voice on the speakers?”
“i had to pay him out of trouble,” sato shudders. “and it wasn’t cheap.”
sukuna frowns. if sato’s complaining? it definitely wasn’t cheap.
but sukuna only opens up your cart, taking in the items on screen. he’s not surprised when he scrolls through the items. lingerie from bordelle & agent provocateur, bags from dior and bottega vennetta, shoes, makeup—the high end kind—and then a bunch of sex toys, also unnecessarily overpriced. his lips tug when he notices a pair of lacy black panties. he already knows that’s for him.
or it could be for naoya to fuck you in, so his face falls.
sato slumps against sukuna’s shoulder. “wow. pricey stuff.”
“she likes nice things,” he mutters, double checking the items. he makes sure everything is in CAD and not USD, and then he checks out. nearly $5000 on clothing, accessories, lingerie. CIBC sends him a notification for possible fraud on his card immediately. he clicks no, this was me.
suguru whistles. “well, that’s that.” he leans back on his palms. “on to task number two?”
——
sukuna taps his pencil against the paper in front of him. “how do i spell exquisite.”
“e-s-q, u-z-t,” sato answers proudly. “all you have to do is sound out the vowels. i learned that trick back in freshman year.”
“there are no vowels in what you just spelled.”
suguru drags a palm over his face. he watches as sato strokes his chin, both he and sukuna staring at the half-empty letter with intense focus. he’s not sure whether to start with explaining to sato that this is not the spelling of exquisite, or if he should let sukuna know that ‘e’ and ‘u’ are indeed vowels.
he chooses to do neither. “sukuna, what do you need the word ‘exquisite’ for?”
“i need to tell her her ass is exquisite.”
“in her apology letter?”
“Yes.”
oh, okay. actually no—it’s not okay. suguru pinches his nose. “this is an apology letter. what does her ass have to do with this?!”
“she likes when i say nice things about her body,” sukuna mumbles, low. geto softens. that’s actually sweet.
“i’m gonna tell her i like her nipples.”
suguru snatches the letter from his hands.
he makes the mistake of letting his eyes drop to the poorly written text, and he’s reading it in his head before he can think any better of it: Hello, I am sorry. Your ass is esquizit. Come back to me. Nipples.
“jesus fucking christ,” suguru breathes.
sukuna scowls at him. “you didn’t let me finish the last sentence.”
sato hugs his knees. “i like this letter.”
suguru ignores them. he puts the letter aside, and tears out a new sheet of paper from the notepad on the table. “look, ryomen. i know you’re not good with words. and i know y/n it’s important to you. so we’re gonna help you.”
sato leans back on his palms. “yup, we are.”
“i meant i’m gonna help him,” suguru glares at sato. “tell me what’s on your mind. what you think. what you feel in your chest when you think about her. if she looked you in the eye and told you she was upset about all you’ve done, what would you say to her?”
sukuna scowls at nothing in particular, pondering. “i’d kiss her.”
“that’s what you would do,” suguru wags his pencil. “what would you say?”
sukuna thinks a bit harder. he thinks about how you look when you’re sad, how you don’t laugh, how your bottom lip juts out in that wobbly pout that makes his stomach hurt. he thinks about how you’d cuss at him before the tears fall, and then you’d grip his collar while spitting teary insults, before collapsing in his chest and letting him kiss your cheek till you quiet down. sukuna thinks very hard.
“i’d tell her i’m sorry,” he says. “and that i hate it when she cries.”
suguru nods. “go on,”
“i’d tell her i was scared,” he murmurs. “of her moving on. of her finding someone better.” he breathes. “i don’t want her to be with anyone that’s not me.”
suguru and sato stay silent.
“i don’t even care about naoya,” sukuna’s voice is tired. his palm slides over his face. “i just want her to be with me.”
“aww,” sato coos.
“shut up.”
but sukuna doesn’t shove sato away when he leans over to hug his head. sato pats sukuna’s face into his chest. “suguru,” sukuna mutters. “can you say that i miss her?”
“already did.”
suguru turns the paper around to reveal the words. sukuna squints to make out the words behind the pretty cursive.
dear y/n,
i know i've said sorry a thousand times. i know it doesn't mean much coming from me. but i mean it. i'm sorry for the party. i'm sorry for kissing someone else. i'm sorry for making you cry. i hate it when you cry, hate when i make you sad. i hate it when you look at me like you don't trust me anymore.
i was scared. scared you were moving on. scared you were finding someone better. i was scared i was losing you for good.
i don't care about naoya. i don't care about other women. i don't care about any of it. i just want you.
i want to earn you back. i want to earn your trust. i want to be the person you deserve.
i love you. i've never loved anyone else like you. i don't want to love anyone else. please give me a chance to prove it.
— sukuna
sukuna blinks at the letter. “i sound pathetic.”
“you are pathetic,” suguru sets it down. “for y/n at least.”
he is, isn’t he?
suguru taps his pencil against the table. “so, do you like it? or shall we draft a new one?”
sukuna thinks about it. sato is still patting his head.
“nah,” he says. “it’s perfect.”
SATO’S REMARK: OH WE’RE SO GETTING HER BACK
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #5: HAVE YOU EVER APOLOGIZED WITH YOUR LIFE ON THE LINE ?!
taught by: nanami kento
“this is the stupidest plan i’ve ever heard.”
ΣΧ
the letter is done. the shopping cart is cleared. but the boys of sigma chi can’t rest just yet.
they do so anyway. suguru is sprawled lazily on the couch, legs spread and popcorn bucket in his hands. sato has his cheek on geto’s chest, curled up beside him. and even sukuna is leaning into the warmth, legs crossed on the floor and his head against suguru’s leg. the tv is playing something none of them truly care about.
suguru takes a bite of popcorn, teeth sticky. “how the fuck are we gonna pull off the last task?”
sato tosses a kernel into sukuna’s open mouth. “i have no idea.”
suguru pops another kernel between his lips, and then feeds a bite through sato’s open mouth on his chest. “before we even get to that—i’ve been thinking. what about that deal naoya mentioned? back in the stadium?”
sato and sukuna perk up.
sukuna’s jaw ticks again. he’s tried not to think about it. tried not to think about how naoya dared to raise his voice at you, how he dared to shove you back in his anger. he licks his canines. his chest is hot.
“i’ve been thinking about it too,” sato says. “ i have a theory.”
“uh oh.”
“don’t be mean,” sato pouts, and suguru pulls his cheek lovingly. he leans off suguru’s chest, palms still on his shoulders for balance. “my theory? y/n wants to make sukuna jealous. naoya wants him jealous too. boom. they work together and date.”
suguru nods. “but now, naoya thinks y/n is dating him so she and sukuna can work together to trash his reputation,” he muses. “and so he’s treating her badly.”
sukuna’s nails dig into his palms.
he knew you wanted him jealous—that’s obvious. but the thought of his stupid antics putting you in danger? with naoya? fuck. you’re a sharp girl. but you’re all bark and no bite. what the fuck is he supposed to do if naoya even thinks of disrespecting you again?
he speaks up. “back at the party. the one we went to after the game,” he bites his cheek. “i saw her with him again. that’s why i got mad. kissed that pamela bitch.”
“pairin.”
“i don’t give a fuck.” sukuna grumbles. “but that’s not what tripped me up. she was with naoya again—even after how he treated her.” his fingers dig into the couch. “she drags me by the ear when i raise my voice just slightly. why would she stay by naoya after all that? just to make me jealous?”
geto thinks out loud. “what if he has something on her?”
the boys go quiet.
for you to stay with someone like naoya, genuine or not? sukuna knows it must be something serious. he leans off the couch, turns to his boys.
“we need to start planning that final task.”
# SHOW TIME !
“kenny,” suguru begs. “please. we need your help.”
nanami pushes up his glasses. “immediately no.”
the theatre hall is humongous.
thousands of students fitted into velvet seats. there’s some ceremony today—what it’s about, sukuna doesn’t know—but he knows it’s the only opportunity he has to fulfill your last task. the next gameday is a week away, past the one week timeframe you specified.
sukuna also knows you’re in the crowd. he’d seen you sitting close to the front. right next to naoya.
god, you looked gorgeous. low cut top that exposes your plush breasts because you have no sense of time and place. skirt short as always, bunched up around your thighs, and lashes fluttering. bored. you looked hopelessly bored and beautiful next to naoya, and it wasn’t till shoko slipped into the seat beside you that your glossy lips smiled again. fuck. sukuna hopes he’ll get to speak to you soon.
but right now, he and the boys are trying to convince nanami to let him show up on stage in place of presenting his speech.
they’re all backstage. sigma chi treasurer nanami kento is sat at a makeshift desk, tie pin straight, expression flat as usual. “i will not allow you to take over my speech in the name of love and sacrifice. this is the stupidest plan i’ve ever heard.”
“nanaken, you’re not listening,” sato shakes his shoulders. “this is a matter of life and death—our last chance to help sukuna get his girl back.” sato pleads. “if we don’t succeed, he’ll be depressed!”
“i won’t be depressed.”
“he’ll be depressed!”
nanami only pinches his nose.
“look,” suguru starts, leaning over the table with his palms. “let’s make a deal. you let us crash your speech? sato buys you all the BL manhwa you want.”
nanami perks up. “BL?”
sato frowns. “sato?”
“exactly,” suguru says. “i know you’re tired of reading semantic error on a screen. we’ll get you all the physical copies—and whatever other BL you have on your reading list. all you have to do is let us crash your set.”
nanami thinks about it. thinks about how nice it’d be to see jang jaeyoung on a page, how he’d be able to have the story right there between his fingertips. he thinks about it. ponders hard.
and then he nods. “you’ve got yourselves a deal.”
——
each speech passes by way too fast.
well honestly, not fast enough. the audience is snoozing. they forget to clap after some speeches, and in the crowd sukuna can see you watching, bored. you have your head against shoko’s shoulder, phone in your hands. a man in a suit walks up to the stage to remind the audience of ‘etiquette’ and ‘keeping their phones away’. you roll your eyes and take a selfie with shoko, lips puckered out.
god, he misses you.
he closes the backstage curtains. suguru is waving his speech around. “you’re up next, man. you ready?”
sukuna swallows. why the fuck does he feel anxious? sukuna doesn’t do anxious. angry? horny? yes. but anxious?
he swipes the speech from suguru’s hands. “yeah. m’ready.”
———
sukuna is not ready.
but he’s not anxious either, so that’s a win. his body’s vibrating with something he can’t quite name. the audience is clapping away as the current presenter leaves.
suguru claps his back. “go.”
and go he does. he rips the velvet curtains apart and trudges his way to the podium. his hands are in his pockets and his gaze is bored and through the corner of his eyes all he can see is you you you.
you, with your brows furrowed and lips in a pout he wants to kiss off. you stare after him with big eyes, before your eyes go even bigger. he watches you facepalm.
that shouldn’t make him laugh. he sets his speech on the podium.
in the audience, shoko is nudging your shoulder. “girl. isn’t that your man?”
naoya turns to frown at her. “excuse me?”
you and shoko ignore him. “i have no idea what he’s up to.” you lie.
on the podium sukuna clears his throat. the TVs overhead are zoomed in on his face. his hair is golden-red under the lights, and sweat glistens on his skin, and sukuna takes in a deep breath.
“my name is ryomen sukuna, and i’m the previous captain of the pandas football team.”
some people whistle and cheer. others watch in silent confusion. naoya is gritting his teeth beside you and shoko is squeezing your thigh.
“i’m here to make a confession in light of recent events within our campus community,” sukuna murmurs into the mic. god, fuck geto suguru and his pretty cursive. sukuna can’t read shit.
“at the first game of the season,” sukuna clears his throat. “there was a video broadcast that interrupted the flow of the ceremony. i profusely apologize for that,” he says. “i was the one responsible.”
gasps fill the arena.
“it’s unsportsmanlike, i know.” he adjusts the mic. “whether the contents of the video are honest or not, to broadcast them during the ceremony was uncalled for and inappropriate. i had no good or honest intentions behind it.” he grits his teeth, eyes leaving the script.
“i wanted to embarrass naoya.”
the crowd is silent, and sukuna finds your eyes.
you’re looking right at him with an expresssion he can’t make out. beside you naoya is there, arm around your seat, and anger seeps into his chest. naoya has a black eye—he’ll have to thank suguru and sato for that. he’ll also have to give him a matching one on his left eye.
he continues his speech.
“naoya zenin, captain of the pandas, stole my girlfriend.” he spits into the mic. “so i chose to embarrass him publicly. that’s it. that’s my reason.”
the audience is muttering, talking amongst themselves. some people have their phone’s up, recording. some are enraged. some girls are swooning.
“y/n l/n—fuck,” he spits into the mic, gaze bleary. he’s gripping the podium with both arms now, head down and away from the cameras. “evil fucking girl,” he murmurs.
“you don’t want him, baby,” he breathes against the mic.
“come back to me.”
the theatre is silent.
and then it roars
single ladies. girlfriends. boyfriends. members of the football team who miss life under sukuna’s reign. they’re all cheering for him, loud and unrestrained. clapping as sukuna grips the podium with his eyes on the hardwood. the headlights flash on his face and he squints to look past them, eyes lifting towards the audience.
you’re not at your seat.
why?
did you miss the end of the speech? sukuna blames himself. he didn’t even have the guts to look up at you as he breathed out the last line, and now he’ll never know if you heard the very words he’s been wanting to say. sukuna almost laughs. his eyes are hot but he almost laughs.
the audience is still roaring. sukuna rips his speech off the podium and walks off the stage.
NANAMI’S REMARK: SO ALL THAT FOR WHAT?
BOYFRIEND TACTICS #1: NEVER LOSE ME.
taught by: y/n l/n
“never had a bitch like me in your life”
❤︎
when sukuna trudges through the curtains, sato and suguru are already there.
faces flushed, chests heaving. “holy fucking shit—“ suguru pulls sukuna’s head into his arms. “you fucking did that.”
he did. so why does he feel so damn empty?
sato is practically bouncing, worming his way into the hug. “you did that!” he cheers. “did you see y/n’s face? was she cheering too—?”
“she left.”
sato and suguru freeze.
suguru pulls away first. sukuna’s face is dull, downcast—and his eyes are dark and soulless. “oh no—” suguru mutters. he holds sukuna’s face. “did you see when she left?”
“no,” he murmurs. no, he didn’t.
“fuck,” sato curses. “fucking hell, man—isn’t this low? even for her?”
suguru pulls sukuna’s head back under his chin. sukuna doesn’t resist or protest. just stares at the wood floor with empty eyes. but then a voice calls his name.
“ryomen sukuna. are you brooding?”
if god liked him, it would’ve been you. standing there in your short skirt and skimpy top and a teasing smile on your lips. mocking his misery. grinning up at him.
but instead it’s shoko ieri, brown hair under a bucket hat.
under normal circumstances, he’d be happy to see her. sukuna likes most of your friends. they’re all pretty party girls like you, a bunch of twenty-something year olds who think life is about bourbon glasses and friday mornings passed out in the backseat of someone’s car. they’re wild but they’re all nice girls, and they’re good to you so that’s fucking that.
but he doesn’t want to see your friends. sukuna wants to see you.
suguru brushes sukuna’s hair back. “shoko. to what do we owe the pleasure?”
“relax, geto. i’m not here to cause trouble,” she hums, leaning against a beam. “just here to pass across a message.”
she muses. “backstage dressing room. one-hundred two, not hundred and one,” shoko recites. “i have to leave now, but don’t be late. and sukuna,” she pauses to look at him. “no backup. just you.”
she turns away with a lilt in her steps, and the boys of sigma chi are left staring at each other in confusion. the message is clear though, and sukuna wipes his face.
room 112. got it.
# SHOW TIME !
ryomen sukuna comes in alone.
the door to room 112 pushes open with a creaak. the dressing room is racks and racks of clothing, some on the floor, some strewn across tables, and mirrors upon mirrors. the vanities still have their lights glowing orange. the room smells like rust and girl.
sukuna finds you in front of a mirror.
you’re checking yourself out, neon pink feather boa around your shoulders. on your head is a comically large sun hat, and there’s a bright green belt flung around your waist. you don’t look up when he walks in. just shift your hips in the mirror, skirt swishing around your thighs.
“you like my outfit?” you hum, still facing the mirror.
you look silly. if he was in a better mood, he’d probably smile. but instead he trudges forward and leans back against the table behind you. “yeah. looks cute.”
“hmm,” you fit your hands over your hips. “i still feel like it’s missing something.”
sukuna stays quiet.
you walk over to a bunch of boxes, pulling out all sorts of costume pieces. your tone is sing-song. “i heard your little speech.”
sukuna plays with the bracelet on his wrist. it’s not a bracelet. it’s one of your bra straps, actually, and he’d forgotten he put it on before the speech. it’s suddenly itchy against his wrist. “you liked it?”
“i thought it was cute,” you hum, inspecting a tie. you walk over to him, and sukuna spreads his legs a bit so you can slip between his thighs. you hold the tie up to him. “can you help me?”
he takes the tie from your hands. fits it over your neck quietly. he’s folding the ribbon around your neck, pretending he can’t feel your breath on his lips.
he murmurs, “i don’t understand what you’re doing, baby.”
his palm leaves your tie to cup your cheek. your gloss smudges against his palm. “what do you mean? i’m getting dressed up.”
his thumb strokes your cheek. “please don’t play dumb.”
you snuggle into his palm, humming contentedly. sukuna’s thumb still strokes your cheek. his other hand has come up squeeze your hip, then snake around it, then pull you closer into him.
“i’m sorry,” he breathes against your lips.
“for what?”
“for kissing another girl,” he murmurs. “for even looking at her. for being difficult. always giving you a reason to turn around and leave, then begging you to come back.” he cups your face.
“i love you. i’ve never loved any girl the way i love you.”
you trail a palm down his chest. “come back to me,” you repeat his speech.
“come back,” he murmurs, hands sliding up your spine. “come back to me, baby.”
you giggle as he leans closer to steal your lips. ryomen sukuna tastes like strawberry and spearmint.
Y/N’S REMARK: GUESS WHO’S BACK <3
COUPLE TACTICS #1 : DICKMEDOWN—WHO SAID THAT?!
taught by: ryomen sukuna’s cock
“there is no quote. i am a cock.”
❤︎
in ryomen sukuna’s bedroom, he has his back against the headboard and his girlfriend in his lap.
you’re half naked. clad in nothing but a lacy bra and matching black panties, giggling as you pose into his macbook camera. you lift another bra up to check it against your chest. ryomen sukuna squeezes your thigh.
“you like this one?” he murmurs behind you, reaching his hand up to grope your breast. “wasn’t in the cart. added it myself.”
“it’s so pretty,” you coo, lashes fluttering. “thank you, ryo.”
“you’re welcome, princess.”
it’s just two days after the whole speech at the theatre. ryomen sukuna watches you with bleary eyes. he leans back against the headboard, watching as you shrug off your bra to try another one he bought. he reaches up to graze his thumb over your pebbled nipple and you giggle, before sliding backwards to lean back against his chest. he squeezes your tits in his palms before kissing your cheek.
“love this set,” he murmurs against your ear. he’s twisting your nipple in one hand & the other is already sliding down over your belly, down to your lacy black panties. “so pretty on you.”
“mmh,” your thighs squeeze as his hand slips below the fabric, finding your wet, aching clit. he rubs the pad of his thumb over it in circles. kisses your cheek again when you whine.
“missed you,” he murmurs. “so bad, pretty.”
“mhm,” you breathe. you want to bite back with something sassy but ryomen sukuna is kneading your breast while his thumb fingers your clit. he slips in another finger and rolls the bud between them. your thighs squeeze around him.
“ryo,” you purr. “you’re gonna get them dirty.”
“i know,” he shushes you. “just wanna feel you.”
and feel you he does. he pushes your body up on his chest and latches his hot mouth around your nipple. “mmh—,” he groans, tongue swirling around the pebbled peak. “fuck, missed this.”
his fingers rub harder against your clit. faster, faster, until your hips arch of the bed and your thighs shake around him. he can already see slick coating your inner thighs, and your moans in his ear only make him rub harder. “fuck,” he curses. fuck fuck fuck.
your lashes go sticky with tears. your clit is wet and throbbing around his fingers. your thighs shake as you reach your high, and sukuna has to shove his lips to yours to quiet your moans. he licks his tongue into your mouth, hot and wet and sloppy, palm settling to gently rub your clit through your high.
you gasp, pulling away. your lashes are sticky & your cheeks flushed hot. “i missed you.”
he kisses you again, soft. “missed you too.”
he slips your panties off your thighs, holding your naked body against him. “missed this pussy too,” he rasps. “gonna stuff you till you’re cumming on my cock.”
you squirm against him, swatting his chest as he unzips his trousers. “but i just came!”
“you’ll come again, pretty.”
he fumbles with the zipper, slipping out his heavy, hard cock. his cockhead is throbbing and sticky with precum, and he shifts you forward so your back is against his chest.
“go slow,” you whimper, already nervous.
he kisses your shoulder. “you don’t want that.”
and you don’t. you arch into him as he slips his cock into your puffy, slick-coated folds from behind. he smears precum and slick over them with his cockhead, kissing your shoulder as you shiver against him. “relax, you’re okay. you still on the pill, baby?”
you nod shyly. he kisses your neck.
sukuna’s cock is thick. heavy and swollen and pulsing between your slobbering foods. he pushes his hips into you, letting your pussy squelch around him, and his arm fits under your body so he can grope your perky breasts. he tugs on a nipple before rolling it between his fingers. fuck.
you whimper as his cock stretches you out, sliding deeper and deeper into your folds. “fuck,” he breathes against your ear. “you’re so fucking hot. so tight. so wet.”
you whimper as his fingers find your clit again. he circles it hard, hips bucking to push his cock deeper into you before sliding back out, palms still fondling your breasts. it’s too much, it’s too fucking much, and he can hardly blame you for whining against him. “ryo—”
“shh—you’re good, you’re doing so good,” he rasps as you clench around his cock. “so fucking good. you know how good you feel around my cock, baby? m’so fucking lucky—.”
he’s shushing you but his hips only buck faster and faster. your eyes squeeze shut as he breathes. “fuck, gonna cum—“
your walls quiver around him as you come together, white hot cum stuffed between your folds. you groan, ragged, as sukuna pants into your neck. he kisses your shoulder before resting his head against your neck.
“i love you,” he rasps.
“i love you too.”
you stay like that for a moment, holding each other before he kisses your shoulder. “let’s get you cleaned up.”
——
“you have a lot of explaining to do.”
sukuna comes back with new shorts hanging low on his v-line. he has a warm cloth in his hands, and he climbs over your sore body. even now you’re still smiling up at him, lashes fluttering, cheeks flushed. “whatever do you mean?”
“don’t play dumb,” he kisses your cheek before gently nudging your thighs open. he slides the cloth down your inner thigh, ignoring the way you reach up to thread your fingers through his hair. “you have to explain. why you went to naoya.”
“but what if i don’t want to?”
“you will,” he says. he slides your panties up your thighs, pressing a kiss to your clit before slipping them all the way up.
but then he changes his mind. slips your panties down again.
“ryomen.” you’re already sitting up.
“relax,” he mutters against your puffy cunt. “lean back for me.”
you sigh, doing as he says. he licks a stripe up your glistening folds. he can taste himself on your stuffed cunt but his tongue keeps moving regardless. he pulls back, lips glistening with slick.
“you’re gonna tell me exactly what your fucking plan was,” he sucks on your bud, letting go with a pop. “why i saw you again with naoya after he dared to fucking talk to you like that.”
“so strict,” you whimper, cheeks puffed as your hips arch into him. “i can date anyone i want.”
“no,” sukuna hisses. “you can only date me.”
“mmh—” you moan as his tongue slobbers over your glossy folds. you run your fingers through his hair as your pussy drools onto his tongue. “mmh—wanted to make you mad,”
“you did good,” he sticks a finger into your cunt and you gasp, loud. he’s knuckles deep now, pumping his finger in and out of you. “hah—wanted you jealous,” you moan. “we were gonna get revenge.”
his fingers curl so hard you cry his name.
you whimper and he ignores it. “was already jealous. why’d you go back to him after he touched you?”
he curls his fingers again. “ah—! sorry, i’m sorry,” you cry, lashes wet. feels so good. “we weren’t dating for real. just showed up in public together. he said we couldn’t stop, said if we did that meant you won,” you whimper. “he apologized, let me punch him. i gave him a—hnngh—black eye.”
ah. so the black eye naoya had wasn’t from sato and suguru.
sukuna swirls his tongue over your clit, lapping and sucking as he pumps another finger into your drooling pussy. he curls them until he’s pressing into that spongy part that makes you sob, and he sucks gingerly as your pussy sputters and spits slick into his mouth. “ryo—m’gonna cum—”
your thighs shake, walls clenching. sukuna pumps his fingers in faster, letting your thighs squeeze his neck. you cum over his mouth, right around his fingers, and sukuna kisses your puffy, still-sensitive clit.
when he looks up at you, you’re glaring. eyes glistening wet, cheeks flushed. pretty.
“what?” he says.
“you’re so mean,” you frown. “you see why i break up with you?”
sukuna huffs, climbing over your figure. when he’s right above you, you tug his neck down.
“i love you,” you mumble.
he kisses your lips. “i love you too.”
COCK’S REMARK : *HARDENS*
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #6: BREAK THE CYCLE !
taught by: ryomen sukuna
“loving you is a loop.”
ΣΧ
in toru gojo’s room of his apartment, the boys of sigma chi are all there. oh—and you too, of course.
sato is fast asleep on his twin’s bed, laid down & drooling on suguru’s shoulder beside him. suguru is tapping at his nintendo switch with furious speed. toru is cooking up something in the kitchen. and on his PC, you and sukuna are there, suguru’s sims 4 game loaded up on screen.
you’re on sukuna’s lap, his arm looped around your hips as you rant about the many tribulations you had to endure while ‘dating’ naoya. you’re customizing sukuna’s sim for your save file, and said man is doing nothing but rubbing your thighs and pressing lazy kisses to your skin.
“—and he leaves his boxers everywhere!” you exclaim, scrolling through geto’s CC folder. “i had to come over after he had practice once and they were everywhere. it’s that bad!”
“mhm,” sukuna kisses your neck, love drunk & bleary-eyed. “so bad, baby.”
“he’s so unhygienic,” you shift in sukuna’s lap, and he squeezes your hips to keep you steady. “i told him to at least clean up if he knows i’m coming over. he said no!”
sukuna nuzzles your ear, squeezes your thigh. “mm. m’gonna kill him.”
“no you will not! stop threatening murder!”
sukuna looks up. you’ve turned your head over your shoulder to glare at him, and he looks up at you through bleary eyes. your cheeks are warm. lashes fluttering. you’re the prettiest headache he’s ever had.
he kisses your jaw. “missed fighting with your pretty face,” he murmurs. “gimme a kiss, baby.”
you soften, and he leans up to kiss you deep.
“woah—” suguru throws a pillow at you both. sukuna swats it away from you without pulling back from your lips. he squeezes your waist and geto frowns. “even if sato’s asleep, i’m still fucking here!”
sukuna ignores him, his hand crawling up to grope your tits. suguru scowls, turns over to face sato’s sleeping figure. he should’ve known protesting was futile. sukuna’s always been an exhibitionist, but you’d think his therapy sessions would’ve taught him better by now.
sukuna pulls back, your gloss smeared over his lip & chin. you giggle at the sight, “hi.”
“mmh,” he nuzzles your neck.
the door swings open, snapping you and sukuna out of your daze. in comes toru gojo with a plate of lazy cake, glasses slipping down his nose. he blushes when he sees you and sukuna pressed close together. “hi. i made snacks.”
“oh, toru!” you purr. “you’re my favorite, have i told you that?”
toru sets down the plate on the desk in front of you. as he leans down you press a kiss to his cheek, and he blushes so hard his face turns beet red. he looks up, surprised, and you’re beaming at him. behind you, sukuna is scowling.
toru drops the plate and runs away.
you turn back to glare at sukuna. “you scared him.”
“no one’s allowed to kiss you.”
“i kissed him!”
sukuna ignores your protests, trying to cup your jaw so he can get a kiss of his own. you shove his face back, and he scowls.
“go apologize to toru,” you frown at him. “now.”
sukuna wants to protest. wants to say he’s comfortable right here with your thighs over his lap and your lipgloss on his chin. but he knows if he fights back he’ll be left with nothing but a sore earlobe & an angry girlfriend. he grumbles as you slide off him.
sukuna trudges to the kitchen, says his apologies. toru accepts them in a heartbeat.
when he comes back to the room, you’re gone.
“where is she?” his heart drops. “suguru—where is she?”
“chill,” suguru mumbles, eyes never leaving his switch. “she left you a letter. check on the desk.”
and next to toru’s plate of dessert, a letter is indeed there. he picks it up, thumb running over the paper. you’ve left a glossy kiss mark at the end.
‘dear sukuna,’ it reads.
‘i’m breaking up with you.’
sukuna’s blood runs cold.
‘i know we just got back together a week ago. but i thought about it! thought about how i’m becoming a better woman, growing in my spiritual journey. do i really want a jealous man who scares away my friends by my side??
so i decided: let’s break up. for real this time. it’s not you, it’s me. maybe if we’re truly meant to be, the stars will align and our paths will cross yet again. but for now? i have to choose me and my growth. so i’m leaving. for good.
i still love you though!! you’ll always be my lover <3 i love you soso much baby boy. i don’t even want to do this. but i know i have to make the right choice for both of us.
sorry to walk away like this. and don’t forget, you are not allowed to date any other women!!! i am the only woman for you!! always and forever!! no dating, sex, kissing, touching, NOTHING. if i find out you even LOOK at another woman i’ll hate you forever!!!!!!!!!!!!
okay, that’s all. goodbye forever. i’ll always love you ryo <333333 i’m sorry it hand to end this way.’
sukuna stares at the letter. he reads it once. twice. then once more.
and then he laughs.
because this is his girlfriend, bratty and high-maintenance and demanding and all. because you say goodbye forever, but he knows he’ll see you next week. he knows tonight you’ll call and say you miss his voice and afterwards you’ll send him a text saying you’re still not getting back with him and will be blocking him as a final goodbye. he knows you’ll unblock him on a random wednesday and won’t text, and he’ll just have to keep sending messages till they don’t turn green and he can ask you to come back to him.
and you’ll say yes. you always do. and if there’s anything or anyone who stops you from saying yes, he’ll crush them.
he rubs his thumb over the bottom of the letter. your glossy kiss mark is there.
and right beside it?
XO, YOUR EX HO 💋
SUKUNA’S REMARK: SEE YOU NEXT WEEK.
#SIGMA-CHI STORIES !
XO, EX HOE end.
XO HEARTKAJI. do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload.
ryomen sukuna vs dress to impress | contains: stupid humor, cursing (?), minors DNI.
sukuna didn't take a lot of things seriously in his life.
piles of dusty textbooks laid untouched on the corner of his desk, academic career hanging on by a loose thread. always claiming he'd 'lock in' only to end up going to a party the next day, showing up to his morning class an hour late and hungover.
his streaming career had only taken off because you'd recorded him cracking his keyboard in half after losing his strawberry elephant (which had taken him two months to get, mind you) on steal a brain rot, much to his disdain and the internet's amusement.
but he was determined on taking this round of dress to impress as seriously as possible.
so seriously in fact, that he spent the last $15 in his savings (that he was planning on spending on taco bell) on robux just to get custom makeup and access to vip. though, a very worthwhile investment when he'd get first place.
the server that he'd spawned in was a server full of bacons—he had this in the bag.
he had a couple minutes before the next round began, reading through some of the comments flooding his screen. "next week's stream's gonna be overwatch, yeah." and then, the donations slowly but surely started to roll in.
"thank you sukunasbootyjuice for the 5 gi-” once the name registered, sukuna slowly turned to look at his webcam and gave it a deadpan glare. "fuckin' freaks."
you came into the room, immediately spotting sukuna at his desk. walking over, you leaned down to press a kiss onto his cheek which he barely avoided. "gotta lock in on this shit right now."
"what're you playing?" you questioned, taking a seat on the chair next to his own. he really only got like this when he played valorant or the occasional round of fortnite. the game screen loaded in. seriously? this was what he was making such a fuss over?
but as he started to play the game, you started to realize just how much he was concentrating on the game. he had pinterest pulled up on another tab—your account, of course—to find pictures of the theme: victorian era.
his brow furrowed as he clicked through each piece carefully, going as far as to look for specific hex codes and patterns. layering with the expertise of a fashion maven, from jewelry to about seven different skirts. and you almost hated to admit it, but his outfit didn't look half bad.
sukuna managed to finish his outfit just before the clock hit zero, a quiet 'phew' leaving his lips. he leaned back against the chair, arms resting behind his head while the first girl showed up on the runway.
nothing out of this world. a simple brown shirt and a short skirt on, hair tied back in a braid. "get this bitch off the stage," he grumbled, his mouse unmoving off one star. you smacked the side of his arm, a glare on your face.
"get this woman off the stage, sorry."
somehow, each outfit that passed seemed to get even worse by the second. a girl showed up without anything on, typing in the chat: 'sorry, joined late xx.' sukuna didn't move his mouse, didn't care, he'd give her negative stars if he could.
then it was his turn to strut down the runway. well, his avatar's turn. same thing. "look at this—” he gestured towards his computer screen, even taking a photo of it on his phone, "and tell me this doesn't deserve first place."
the chat immediately blew up, all disagreeing with him. a stream of no's stretching out for miles, a couple fuck no's sprinkled in just for good measure. "just fucking jealous, look at her." he tapped a couple buttons on his computer, his avatar hitting a nastyyy pose 28 before walking off.
in the game, everyone else had gone quiet. no longer were those girls commenting 'ATEEEE' or 'SLAYY.' he didn't think too much of it, he was still dressed better than everyone else.
when the final podium showed up on his screen, sukuna couldn't help the look of disgust that painted his features: a faceless, shoeless, bald naked girl at first place, followed by a purple girl dressed up in pure neon as a joke, and third was some girl who'd gone with the corset top and skirt. not even bothering to change the colors.
puppyloverunicorn: gg!
mermaidsrcool: slayed girl!
shshdkshs: so deserved!!
his eye twitched with each passing comment, scrolling down the leaderboard with the expectation he'd at least get fourth. nope. maybe fifth? still no. sukuna continued to scroll down the list, jaw clenched when he finally got to his place.
"fucking idiots wouldn't know fashion if it smacked them in front of their stupid, crusty musty smiling faces," he spoke into the mic, his avatar moving right in front of mermaidsrcool, "i'm talking to your stupid fucking face. fuck you and your friends, trashy ho."
even though sukuna was basically giving them the win by doing so, he decided to leave the game before he got even more heated. he didn't bother saying goodbye to the chat, ending the stream without a word.
you tried to stifle your laugh from next to him, lip caught in between your teeth in attempts to keep every noise at bay. "it's not that funny," he grumbled beside you, laughter escaping from your lips.
"no, no, you're right, i'm sorry," you babbled through laughter, "trashy ho, though?" sukuna was sure this gaming sesh couldn't get any worse—his stream watched him curse out a server of (probably) 12 year olds, he'd lost, and you were laughing at him.
turns out things could get worse. he woke up to a notification from roblox the next day: you've been banned from using voice chat for the next 30 days.
a/n: most stupidest thing i’ve ever written but i hope you enjoyed 😭 also haven’t logged in since dec and the map’s fucking huge now wth
