WHAT IT'S LIKE BEING THE MANAGER OF BOXER!SUKUNA AND BOXER!TOJI. (hcs)
18+, nsfw at the end with a tojikuna slip if you squint thinking about how, in the underground boxing world, being the manager of both boxer!toji and boxer!sukuna is its own achievement. you've singlehandedly created two monsters — and formed the most infamous boxing duo to date.
breaking up fights between boxer!toji and boxer!sukuna is an almost weekly occurrence for you. sukuna thrives from provoking toji enough to make a vein pop out of his neck. gives him a dopamine rush. it's so spontaneous that they'll get nose-to-nose, sparring, boring into each other's eyes because of a tease here and there, and it'll be you who has to de-escalate before it ever gets out of hand.
"damn, you usually hit harder than that. your ass definitely didn't stretch, huh?" "sukuna, don't start on me now." "now? whew, old man's mad. c'mon, uppercut, right on my chin, i dare you— make my day." "sukuna, save the instigating for when you're in matches." "what, i can't rile him up a little? makes the sparring fun."
on account of your advice and drilling technique's into their heads, boxer!toji will always let boxer!sukuna have the final blow on his opponents. he'll have that signature sadistic smile planted on his face before he lands a right hook that, in most cases, breaks a bone. but that's his goal— when he's too into it, he'll take his boxing gloves off like a madman and land a punch just to see the blood on his fingers of his own opponent and from busting his knuckles open from dealing too heavy of a blow. on the other hand, unlike sukuna, toji isn't as flashy or jumpy, but he's damn well agile. he's footwork-heavy, excelling in body shots and illegal grappling instincts to dismantle his opponent. he'll read the micro-movements and sport an occasional crazed grin before putting them in a headlock to weaken their breath control. he's sukuna partner for a reason; they're both brutal.
boxer!toji and boxer!sukuna that got lucky with you. of course, they're amazing fighters that in their own right dominate the underground. but in that same setting, 'managers' are only people who achieve sustenance off of gambling and exploitation of their fighters' well-being. you, however, seem to put the financial gain aside—not as if you were making a lot— and prioritise keeping their name known. you're goal orientated, and they forever appreciate it. boxer!toji and boxer!sukuna that dress like sluts. of course, you don't expect them to dress prim and proper, whatsoever. but your eyes can't help but linger on their bodies when they walk around, sweats and shorts hanging low on their hips, enough to reveal their v-line, and the fact they never have a shirt on. ever. no matter the occasion, the pair will always have their full bodies on display for you to stare. and you'd complain but you don't because you ogle them every time. they always catch it, and share a shared look and a smirk between each other before continuing like nothing happened.
during bulking season, there's always one person sukuna and toji rely on; you. their bulking meals are most often lean, consisting of meals with seasonings only your precious fingers can make. you're their 'professional chef', and they're your 'professional eaters'. but when they feel like dirty bulking to get their muscle/fat up for a match, they know exactly who to come to when they want something off-menu, which may or may not consist of them taking turns eating you out for hours. and if you're lucky, on a one-time occasion, you'll take one of 'em. it's boxer!sukuna being nothing but obscene as he's got you in a nasty headlock, hips snapping against yours as mean thrusts hit your walls perfectly like he was made for it, boxer!toji getting himself off to the sound of you beside you. "hey—shitt, my dick feel any bigger inside that pretty pussy? bulkin' got 'er feeling tighter than usual."
sukuna would release your neck, guiding his hands down to the plush of your hips, before pausing, and you'd look back at him, utterly confused. "ryo, m-move."
"n-no," he'd mock your voice in a high pitched whine that made toji chuckle, and you glare at them both, but mainly sukuna. "the fuck you looking back at me like that for? arch that back further, woman, c'mon and fuck me back. i'm not dealing with a pillow princess." you'd get a chance to take a small breather from being (happily) suffocated under sukuna's biceps and whine your hips, him using his hands to guide your hips so you two sync in a rhythm. "you sound corny as shit, lemme fuck her." toji would chime in, palming himself. he wasn't bothered about how pathetic he looked, satisfying himself with his own hands whilst you two were fucking in front of him. no matter what, the two would always bicker. even over fucking you. he'd then mockingly pout at toji . sukuna leans down to you, speaking loud enough to layer over the straight porn the two of you were making, skin to skin. "awe, you hear that? big guy wants his turn with you, manager." the pink haired man would look up to his teammate with that same vex-worthy grin, "you want it bad, fushiguro? huh? you gonna say please?" toji would only scowl at him, eyes threatening to roll at how easily sukuna could piss him off in a way nobody else could. sukuna would only meet his gaze, a bitch-made sneer planted so wide you could see his canines peaking out from the side. their tension was almost erotic, enough to make you throb inside sukuna just a little.
"ngh— suck my dick, ryomen." "oh? that an invite or what?" "die."
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