frat!kuna doesn’t “keep up” with people, he monitors.
you notice it first in the smallest ways. how he’s always the first to view your story, even when it’s 2:13AM and you’re just posting a dumb mirror pic in your pajama shorts. the little viewer list always has his name sitting there like a threat.
then it gets worse. you post a selfie? he likes it in under a minute. you post a sunset? he doesn’t react, because it’s not you. you post yourself dressed up for a night out with your friends? suddenly there’s a notification.
sukuna ryomen replied to your story:
where are you going dressed like that?
you laugh, thumbs hovering, heart tapping a little too fast.
why do u care? lol
three dots appear instantly.
because I’m looking at you.
you swallow. heat creeps up your neck. and like clockwork, ten minutes later, you hear it. a car outside. not honking. not calling.
just waiting.
your phone lights up again.
come outside. i wanna see you in person.
and you swear you can practically hear the smirk in his voice through the screen, like he already knows you’re gonna do it.
soft!kuna when you’re upset and not answering your phone
based off of this ask !
thank you for reading! please do NOT steal my work, or feed it into AI. all of my writing is my original work.
not proofread
it starts with a text.
kuna: open the door. you blink at your phone.
it’s barely eight. you haven’t answered anyone all day. not your friends. not your roommate. not even him. another buzz.
kuna: i know you’re in there.
you sigh, drag yourself out of bed, and crack the door open. he’s standing with a grocery bag in one hand and two drinks balanced in the other.
“…hi.” you mumble.
“hey, ma.” sukuna studies your face for all of three seconds before his expression softens.
“you’ve been crying.”
you immediately look away.
“i’m fine, ryo.”
“yeah?” he raises an eyebrow.
you glance back up at his face, trying to keep your face indifferent. sukuna looks back at you with a unbelieving face.
“you’re annoying.” you huff, stepping aside so he can come in.
“i’ve been told.” he carefully sets everything down on your table like he’s done it a hundred times before.
“brought you dinner.”
“…i wasn’t hungry.”
“didn’t ask.”
you roll your eyes.
“that’s my girl. always rolling her eyes at me.”
despite yourself, the corner of your mouth twitches. sukuna sees the change in your expression and smiles.
“there it is.”
“don’t.”
“don’t what?”
“ryo, you point out every time i almost smile.”
“can’t help it.”
“yes you can.” you groan, flopping back onto your bed.
he disappears into your dorm kitchen for a minute before coming back with two forks.
“eat with me. i didn’t buy you food and come all this way for nothing.”
you don’t reply, biting your tongue gently.
“please?”
hearing him say that makes you look up. sukuna almost never says please.
“…okay.”
he sets down the food he brought, and the two of you eat in comfortable silence. well, at least comfortable for him. for you, every bite feels like work.
after a while, he sets his fork down.
“talk to me, baby.”
you shake your head. “don’t know what to say.”
“start anywhere.”
you hesitate, of course you do. why should sukuna have to listen to all your stupid problems?
sukuna’s hand reaches out, placing it over yours.
“baby.”
“…everything feels wrong.” you whisper.
he nods, and doesn’t interrupt.
“i’m behind on assignments and i feel like i just keep messing things up. with my friends, and my family it’s just…i don’t even know why i’m crying anymore.” your voice cracks on the last word, and you hate that it does.
you hate crying. especially in front of him.
unfortunately, you can’t stop the slow flow of tears streaming down your face.
before you can even think of apologizing, sukuna’s already reaching over. his thumb brushes slowly across your knuckles.
“you’re allowed to.”
“…allowed what?”
“to have bad days. everybody has days where everything feels like shit.”
he gently squeezes your hand. all you do is stare at him. your heart aches.
“i’m sorry, ryo.”
he frowns immediately.
“for what, baby?”
“being… like this.”
“don’t. don’t apologize for needing comfort.”sukuna says it so simply. like it never occurred to him that you’d think otherwise.
he reaches over and gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“i don’t only wanna be around you when you’re happy, ma. i don’t want you to have to pretend in front of me. you can be vulnerable, you know. i wanna be around all of you. especially the sad parts.”
your eyes sting again.
“don’t cry, hun.”
“i’m trying not to, ryo.”
“come here.” he whispers, opening his arms slightly.
you don’t hesitate.
you lean into him, and his arms are already wrapping around you, hugging you carefully.
never too tight. never like he’s trying to fix you. just enough to remind you he isn’t going anywhere.
sukuna rests his cheek against the top of your head.
“you know what we’re doing tomorrow?”
“what?” you mumble into his hoodie.
“absolutely nothing.” he responds, his fingers threading through your slightly tangled strands.
“…nothing? that sounds boring.”
“exactly.” sukuna smiles against your hair. you think for a bit.
“can we order food?”
“whatever you want, ma.”
“watch a movie?”
“of course, sweetheart. but you’re not allowed to think about school for one night.” sukuna added, looking down into your eyes.
“that’s impossible.”
“good thing i’ve been told i’m very persuasive.”
you pull back just enough to look at him.
there’s a soft and reassuring smile on his face.
sukuna presses a small and gentle kiss onto your forehead.
“i love you, sweetheart.”
“i love you too, ryo.”
and for the first time that day, the room didn’t feel quite so heavy.
masterlist
any dividers used are tagged in pinned post! thank you for reading! 🦢
summary: nobody expects the frat boy and the chubby, nerdy girl to ever look in each others’ direction. but who cares what people expect?
word count: 3.5k
contains: fluff & smut. frat clark the wonderful gorgeous sassy little gentleman, reader is a weird literary nerd, lois lane being kickass propaganda. college kids being pretentious to turn each other on, my fav. some talk of drinking/being drunk, fraternity parties. clark and reader uhaul lesbian tf outta each other, first kiss/boyfriend trope. *piv, protected sex, light and bubbly and sweet because ughhhh… *no use of y/n
a/n: well yes, @intwoweeks ! i love frat clark, if you guys want more i will definitely do more with him– fics, blurbs, whatevs. hope you like ;)
————————————͙͘͡★———————————
If we asked anyone to explain how you and Clark Kent went well together, they would be at a loss for words. From the outside, it just… didn’t make sense. But then again, neither of you really made sense as individuals. That is, you didn’t fit into boxes in the way college kids like to.
Clark was a brother in Alpha Gamma Rho. He was a backwards-hat, cut-off tank kind of guy. The legend of AGR keggers because he never seemed to get drunk. The very same legend who held doors for everyone, even if it made him late. You could see Clark mowing down brothers on the frat lawn in a game of tackle football, or studying with a pair of crooked, taped glasses in the library. Sometimes he was pulling senior pranks, parking cars on roofs or wrapping an office in Christmas paper. Other times he was exercising his secret duty of negotiating with campus police when a party was coming up, bringing them donuts and promising no problems, if they’ll only let it run its course. Needless to say, the farmboy wore many hats– but he had a core that was simple. Warm, thoughtful, passionate love. Intentional care. Remarkable intelligence. Those were just a few things that you loved about Clark.
And you– well, who could ever figure you out? The girl with no solid shtick. President of the literature club, occasional peer tutor through the university library, who could often be found committing drunken karaoke offenses at the off-campus bar with your friend and roommate Lois. Nobody would be shocked to see you in fishnets and lacy black everything one day, and mary janes and a denim skirt the next. You walked with your head down and iPod blasting on school sidewalks, but you managed robust debates in class. You even put on the bulldog mascot suit and rushed the field during your sophomore-year homecoming game, because your public speaking professor (assistant coach of the MetU team, coincidentally) offered anyone a pass on the final presentation if they had the guts. When your peers would walk by and see you either hiding in a novel or handing out bookmarks for your club, no one batted an eye – because you were just that girl who did anything. Knowing everyone, yet knowing no one.
It seemed every expectation of you both was subverted by another facet. Multi-dimensional in a one-note world. College isn’t always the place for fully-formed people like that, but perhaps it can be good for finding each other… can’t it?
You and Clark worked from the beginning.
He liked you when he found you standing in the corner of one of his frat parties, cradling a vodka cranberry (heavy on the vodka) with glazed eyes, staring over the sea of bodies like someone had personally offended you. He thought your dopey frown was sweet. You both remembered that night like it was yesterday.
—͙͘͡★—
“What’s the matter?” Clark had cooed, sauntering over with an empty beer bottle and a torturous little smirk on his face. His eyes were green and bright like the light across from Gatsby’s dock. You loved Gatbsy. Your drunken self thought of Gatsby religiously. Something about drinking and prohibition, and then the thought train just…
“My one friend dragged me here, and I think she’s gettin’ her face chewed over there,” you slurred, pouting, as a black-polished nail pointed across the party to another corner near the kitchen. Your good friend Lois, the only friend you had, really, had a guy in a jersey shoved up against the wall like she wore the pants in that makeout.
Clark snickered and rested his elbow on your shoulder, laughing softer when you tried to wrestle out from under it. “You’re friends with Lane? That can’t be right. Lois is wild– and she’s here all the time. I’ve never seen you before.”
You lifted your buzzing head and rolled your eyes, sipping your drink– nearly missing the straw, and chasing it with your tongue. “Yeah, well, she needed a resume booster and I needed to get out of the house.”
Clark grinned at your soft mushing words, and he jutted his chin out with a curiously furrowed brow. “How many of those have you had, shortie?”
With a disgruntled scoff, you deflected: “M’not short!”
“Right, you’re just tall among hobbits,” Clark said, and he sat against the windowsill beside you.
He took a second to look you over that night. You had on quite the mix: a dainty little silver necklace that would nod to self-discipline, but it was bracketed by a denim jacket filthy with button pins screaming of new wave and half-niches. A little square neck tank that revealed a freckle by your collarbone. Army green cargos that rose low enough to squeeze the chub of your hips and tummy. Your boots had to have a platform at the very least one inch tall, he deduced, because they were serious and you were still short. And to top it off, there was a plum rim around your lips but a soft, neutral center, which meant you had lipstick on at some point, and had drank it all off.
All of your small contradictions mixed with your very suspicious glances at him made his heart thump, and he knew then and there that he could see you sitting across from him at diners and nuzzling into his neck at theaters. He saw you kissing his cheek, he saw you crying over a test, he saw you waking up with tank top straps slipping from your rounded shoulders and yawning like a cat. He saw you with him, the little romantic…
“Y’know, you don’t look like a frat party kind of girl.”
“I do what I want,” you scrunched your nose, “Nothing means anything anyway.”
“Oh, do I detect a little nihilism, shortie?” Clark teased.
You swatted his shoulder and whined, “I am not short! And do you even know what that word means?”
“What, you think I’m an idiot?”
“Who coined nihilism?” you sneered, leaning down a bit to study his eyes, to see if they shifted.
Clark tipped his head back and craned up, giving you a knowing grin. “Nietzsche. But that one guy Jacobi was the first guy to bring it up, Nietzsche just made it big. There was that other guy who wrote about it in Fathers and Sons…”
“Turgenev,” you suddenly smiled, the drunken judgement slipping away. “You know your depressing Germans!”
“And Russians,” he hummed, smiling wider. Your eyes were big as the moon, and his heart felt like it could seize at any moment. He had to find a way to keep you. “What’s your name, smartypants?”
By the way you smiled, it was clear you preferred that nickname.
—͙͘͡★—
It was unusual, following that fateful encounter. Usually in college you get the couple who dances around each other for years, or you get the two horndogs who can’t even wait until the first date. For you and Clark, it just started… shapeless.
You were too drunk to walk home that night, and so was Lois, so instead of letting you crash with all the other drunkies on the ground floor of the AGR fraternity, Clark personally put you both up in his room. He slept in his buddy Oliver’s room next door, in case he heard any creepers try to catch you or Lois offguard… or if he heard any puking. Then, when he expected to find you embarrassed the following morning, you were simply precious. A perfect, whiny little picture of a hangover– asking him shamelessly for McDonald’s and hogging his mattress until the fog cleared. When he asked Lois if you’re usually so fond of quick friendships, she just raised an eyebrow and said, “Don’t be stupid.”
And you liked him from the start, too. Let’s get that straight.
You didn’t really want to, because the reputations of frat guys seemed to lean towards accuracy in most cases– but you couldn’t deny that they could be brutally attractive. When he stalked over with a Sharks cap on backwards, pretty little curls of chocolate peeking out at the nape of his neck, flexing those annoyingly toned arms under an AGR short-sleeve, you felt heat creep up the back of your neck. If you weren’t drunk, you might have been a bit more stuttery. But it was when he gazed up at you like a puppy whilst dropping all kinds of specialized knowledge on philosophy, the soft timbre of his tone cutting through the egregious EDM shaking the house, you felt the butterflies making your toes curl in your boots. He was sweet, non-threatening, and he smiled like a wolf. Something in your gut told you that Clark Kent was hiding a whole lot of beautiful behind that brotherhood insignia on his chest.
It took you two all but a week to fall disgustingly in love, because Clark fell first, and he was a self-starter.
He found you at the library the day after your drunken romp at his house and brought you a coffee (his brothers felt the urge to adopt you as their pet, by the way, when they found you rummaging like a racoon through the fridge and Clark sitting on the counter behind you, staring with hearts in his eyes… and Lois asleep at his side.) The day after that, he bribed Lois with five bucks to tell him you would be leaving the literature club at four. He walked you to your tutoring shift. The next, he almost breached the creepy line when he used the student directory at the tutoring center to find your dorm number… but you didn’t mind when he showed up with Chinese food and that God-given grin.
Then the week was up again, and there was another AGR party. You were formally invited that time; he snuck you up to the roof through a series of window-hoppings, and he kissed you when you were in the middle of a rant about women writing under male pseudonyms…
—͙͘͡★—
“And did you know that they didn’t even let George Eliot get buried in Westminster? All that judgement for being a female writer, and then the thing with her husband dying and finding a new lover, and the Church said no, so now she’s buried in Highgate and she’s never been moved! Such bullshit, because she literally redefined–”
Clark couldn’t take it. Your eyes did this special thing when you got angry over book stuff, this little flash– like someone was starting up a lighter, over and over again– and it made his knees weak. He lurched forward as if he had no control over the urge, and he pressed his lips to yours in a manner that didn’t match the preceding; gentle, like he might hurt you if he wasn’t careful. His big palms, a bit rough around the curves, cradled your cheeks, and he smiled when he felt the way you sucked in a little breath, like he made you lose your place in thought.
You didn’t even pull away, you only let your lips brush his as you asked, "What are you doing?”
“I think I’m in love with you,” he said, like an absolute idiot. But he wasn’t one. If any girl would take that kind of truth bomb well, it would be you. He knew that for sure.
You nearly knocked him on his back with how excitedly you kissed back, lips slotting against his eagerly and unorganized, head tilting from left to right, trying to find the right way, the right pace, the best feeling. He knew within a second of your sloppy mouth that you had probably never kissed anyone before and were dying to figure it out.
“Easy, easy!” he chuckled, passing his fingers through the strands of hair around your face. “Jeez, Einstein–”
“Shut up,” you giggled, pulling back. Your eyes were on fire in a whole new way. “You love me?”
“Probably,” he hummed. Definitely.
“I love you,” you countered.
“Yeah?”
“It’s probably too soon,” you reasoned, eyes drifting to his lips like they were a magnet.
“Yeah,” he breathed.
“Maybe we’re moving really fast,”
“Maybe.”
“What would I be?”
“My girlfriend.”
“And you’d be my boyfriend,”
“Hopefully.”
“And you want that?”
“Sure I do.”
“You don’t think I'm fat?”
“What?” Clark mumbled against your skin, because he couldn’t take it anymore. He could volley your questions with his lips on your neck. “Stupid question… I like how much you weigh, and if you lose a pound I’ll be pissed.”
“I’ve never had a– mmf– a boyfriend before,”
“That’s fine,” a kiss.
“I might get needy,”
“Mm, please do…” a nip.
Your eyes fluttered when his hands slipped into your back pockets, squeezing happily. “I have a lot of h… homework, all the time,”
“So do I.”
“I vote in every election,”
“Mhm, so do I,” a squeeze.
“I want to write books for a living, even if it means I’m poor,”
“I have a family farm back home… won’t ever have to worry…”
“I- I want to have kids… three kids and two dogs,”
“Farm’s definitely big enough… they better have your eyes, cutie.”
“Mmf–” It got hard to think when his teeth scraped behind your ear. “Are you even listening? You’re talking crazy,”
“Three kids, two dogs, active citizen of democracy, I’ll keep you fed and pretty and– mm, is this new perfume? – n’ you love me?”
“Oh, god… yes.”
“Good. Then we’re both crazy.”
—͙͘͡★—
So, it worked. Nothing you said turned him off or away. He practically knew what you were thinking before you said it. Clark didn’t have to learn to anticipate your every move, he just did. And you seemed to read his mind, although that wasn’t so innate as it was easy– it was all over his gorgeous, gorgeous face.
It was one of those things where you seemed to just fit like interlocking fingers. Every strength, every weakness, they melded into a trade of wills. Where he couldn’t, you could, and you shared life like a milkshake. One straw and a lot of kissing between sips.
Your first time was in your shared dorm room with Lois, when you remembered to lock the door but forgot to deadbolt it, and so she had the misfortune of opening it up and finding the two of your startled into fits of laughter, hiding from her grumblings about ‘boys’ and ‘privacy’:
—͙͘͡★—
You really had never felt anything like it before, and whatever bad porn you watched or had seen in artsy movies did not do it justice. Or, maybe it was just Clark.
Clark had you pressed into the mattress under two hundred and twenty pounds of soft, twisting muscle, his hands wrapped around your back and digging into your sides. You weren’t sure you’d ever be small enough to hold, but maybe you just needed a bigger guy all this time. Everything in proportion, right?
And god, he was a whiner. Clark rutted into you in what should’ve been little motions, but he was so genuinely large that any thrust made your legs shake. It was quite a struggle getting the condom on, actually, because he was so anxious to be sweet with you that his hands shook. You had to roll it on for him, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his blushing cheeks.
“Oh, god, baby,” he whimpered, nibbling at the joint of your neck and shoulder as the plush heat of your walls throbbed around him. “Oh my god, oh my god…”
You were a hot mess, burning up and completely eager. Every grind was met with a buck of your hips, your knees hitched high and your fingernails– purple this time– digging into the meat of his back. For a first timer, you had no reservations. You moaned into the dampening hair behind his ear, “Ho-oly shit, Clark…”
His hands rushed to touch every inch of your back and sides as he lifted himself up a bit and gazed down at you. His chain dangled against your lips and he watched as you took it in your mouth, passing it between tongue and teeth, batting those sinful lashes up at him. He scrunched his face up with a weak desire and tucked a hand under your knee, opening you up that last bit before driving into you with a force that managed to compromise speed and safety. Just as his hands kneaded your tummy, just as your hands twisted the sheets up, just as the two of you were begging and pleading and whining like little vocal twin flames, Lois unlocked the door and froze in the doorway.
You startled immediately and Clark flopped on top of you, his first concern to cover you from whoever it was. But a poor moment of judgement caused him to keep going, even when Lois burst into a flurry of curses.
“Jesus Christ, you guys– oh my god, somebody should’ve just told me, I wouldn’t have come home, couldn’t even put a fucking sock on the door like civilized people– oh my god, are you still going? Fuck, guys, ew! Privacy! Privacy in my own dorm room, that's all I ask! Boys in the room, there’ll never be boys in the room she said– oh, Christ, someone text me when it’s over!”
You devolved into helpless, shocked laughter as she babbled herself out and locked the door again, and Clark smiled into your chest as he made you punctuate every giggle with a moan. He couldn’t get enough of the way you sounded– it was breathy, like a whisper, until it hit harder and your pleasure reached a low register, whiny and hungry. He wanted to chase it out of you until you had no sound left. And he did– until your back arched, until the condom simply couldn’t take any more, until your eyes fluttered shut and wouldn’t open again, until your body twitched and slumped and every other word either sounded like “Clarkie” or “Love you.”
—͙͘͡★—
No matter what first came to pass, or whatever college threw at you, Clark didn’t budge. He knew it when he sought you out at that party. He knew you were the stroke of good luck he’d never find again. So, he kept you. Good choice, because he got a free tutor out of it- not that he needed it. The perks were really just making out in the library.
He met your parents after a couple months, and they gushed over him. The homegrown farmboy had the good sense to bring flowers, and your parents kept them on the sill for weeks until they wilted to nothing. You showed him your childhood room, and he nearly cried at a little list of birthday wishes you had pasted next to your vanity, to which you laughed and accused, “You sap.”
Then it was his turn; he took you home on break to the farm, and his parents nearly gave Martha’s ring over on the spot. You received five pie recipes free of charge. Jonathan Kent gave you a rigorous tour of the farm, and he even let you brush the horses– one of which sneezed on your nice blouse. Clark took you into town for a new one and you got to see all the places he grew up in, and then you nearly cried, and all he could do was kiss you and tell you just how pretty you looked with grass in your hair.
Clark bought you exactly one second-hand novel a week, and you wrote him little poems on scraps of paper and tucked them in every place possible, so that when he went through life, he’d find it unexpectedly, and remember that wherever he was, you were, too.
He went to the slam poetry night your club hosted. You were crowned kegger queen to his kegger king at a particularly rowdy party. His brothers threw you a birthday party and got you delightfully drunk, so you could enjoy a childhood birthday wish of stargazing at midnight next to a cute boy. Said cute boy had to usher his friends to bed just so he could consummate the day you were brought into the world properly (and it was better than the first, somehow.) When you woke up the next morning, hungover in his bed, you smiled to yourself. Your tank top strap slid down your arm. He pushed it up.
It didn’t matter on your shy or outgoing days, or when you felt dark or light. It didn’t matter when he had to put on the ‘brother’ face and do the stupid shit fraternities do. What mattered was that he protected your heart in a little box, and just when it felt like maybe you two wouldn't meet on some small level, you did. It was synchrony. It was easy.
And you know what? It didn’t have to make sense. You two were the odd couple. Soulmates exist like flames in the eyes of girls who float in the wind. He was yours, backwards hat and all, and there was nothing easier than that.
Sukuna lost a bet and now he has three weeks to make you fall in love with him or he'll fail the exam along with his entire gang. Because after all you are the one who will help them at the exam.
Just one month and two weeks left until graduation.
The thought alone was enough to make you smile as you traced a finger over the spine of your heavy textbook. For the first time in your life, real independence felt like something you could actually touch. And soon you would be working a full time position as a graphic designer, finally earning your own money. You already had a mental list of all the things you wanted to buy, starting with the cute dresses, high heels, and outfits you usually had to pass up while living on a strict budget.
You weren’t a textbook nerd. you were just a girl who wanted to be successful. You worked because you had to. Your scholarship kept you in school, and your part time job at a small, quiet pet shop covered the rest. Life wasn't perfect your dad was a total asshole who contributed nothing but stress but you had carved out a peaceful existence despite him.
The only real flaw in your daily routine was the lingering ache of loneliness.
Whenever you wanted to hang out with your best friend, Shoko, she always seemed to be busy with Suguru. You knew without a doubt that if you voiced even a hint of loneliness, Shoko would drop Suguru in a heartbeat to come running to your side. But the crushing weight of guilt always stopped you. Why would you force your best friend to leave the person she loved just to keep your lonely ass company?
So, you learned to content yourself with your own company. You spent your evenings at the pet shop talking to the older ladies who came in, nursing sick animals back to health, drawing in your sketchbook, and baking small treats in your quiet apartment. For you, that comfort was enough.
And then, there was Ryomen Sukuna.
He was a total asshole. Sukuna walked through the campus corridors like he owned the whole world and honestly, maybe he did. He was terrifyingly intimidating, possessing a raw, dangerous presence that made even the largest men on campus look small and fragile in front of him. Not that he cared.
Sukuna focused his formidable energy on only a few things...frat parties, fucking around, smoking, drinking, and ruling over his circle of friends. His boys weren't exactly a good influence, though it was universally understood that Sukuna was the true bad influence driving the group forward.
"Who can steal the next test papers from the principal's office?" Kenjaku asked, sliding lazily down the side of the worn out frat house couch.
Sukuna took a long, slow drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing a fierce amber before he carelessly stubbed it out in the overcrowded ashtray. "It's too risky right now" he muttered, his rough, gravelly voice cutting through the thick layer of smoke in the room. "They upgraded the locks."
Mahito let out an annoyed, dramatic sigh from the floor. "We could always ask that rich bastard Gojo for help."
Sukuna scoffed, a dark, dangerous sound vibrating in his chest. "Over my dead body. That arrogant fuck thinks he runs the place."
Kenjaku burst into a loud laugh. "He’s got the keys, though."
"I don't care. He's always hanging around your brother like he's his shadow," Sukuna snorted, throwing a sharp look at Kenjaku. Despite being brothers, Kenjaku and Suguru were entirely different people, operating in completely different circles.
"How about we just get someone to help us pass the damn test?" Toji interjected, finally putting his phone down on the coffee table.
"Whom? Everyone in that class is stupid as fuck" Mahito complained, blindly grabbing another handful of chips from a crumpled packet.
Toji rolled his eyes, shifting his weight. "As if you're some kind of genius, Mahito. What about that kid? The one with the short brown hair and glasses. He’s been in our lectures for three years. He can help us."
"Nah, that nerd is annoying as hell" Kenjaku countered, casually stealing a handful of chips from Mahito’s bag. "He’s the history teacher’s kid. The second we ask for a cheat sheet, the bastard will snitch on us."
Kenjaku paused, his eyes lighting up with a sudden, malicious spark of inspiration. "Wait... What about that girl? The one who always hangs out with Suguru's girl? She’s incredibly smart, and she keeps her mouth shut. She could practically write the test for us."
Sukuna rolled his dark eyes, leaning his head back against the couch. "Nah. I don't think she'd help us. She doesn't even look at us."
"Let's make a bet!" Kenjaku suggested, a sharp, conniving smirk spreading across his face. "Sukuna, how about you? Make that girl fall completely in love with you, use her to get the answers to the test, and then dump her right after we pass."
Mahito burst into a cruel, loud fit of laughter, slapping his knee. "That is an amazing idea! We get a guaranteed passing grade, and we get to watch Sukuna play boyfriend. It’s perfect."
Sukuna scoffed, dismissively waving his hand. "Stupid ass ideas-"
"Oh? Don't tell me the great Ryomen Sukuna is scared?" Kenjaku taunted, tilting his head with a mocking sigh. "Tsk, tsk. Alright then. If you can't handle a simple girl, I guess-"
Sukuna’s eyebrows snapped together, his gaze instantly turning lethal. When it came to his ego, he couldn't tolerate even the slightest challenge. "I'll do it."
Toji looked at Sukuna, a rare flash of genuine caution crossing his features as he shook his head. "Man...that’s brutal. Just be careful."
The rest of the room merely scoffed at Toji’s uncharacteristic warning, returning to their drinks. "You have three weeks until the exam" Kenjaku reminded him, his smirk wider than ever.
Sukuna let out a dark, confident chuckle, his eyes narrowing with dangerous intent. "Three weeks is more than enough time to make a pathetic girl fall in love."
The next morning, you were sitting alone at your usual double desk. Shoko was going to be out of the country with her family for the next two weeks, planning to return just in time to sit for the final exam. Because you were a loyal friend, you were currently busy compiling and organizing detailed notes to send to her email, returning the favor from all the times she had helped you balance your crazy work schedule.
You let out a quiet sigh, your pen scratching against your notebook as the professor’s monotonous voice droned on in the background.
Suddenly, a loud, heavy thud echoed right beside you, vibrating through the wood of the desk. For a split second, your heart leaped, thinking Shoko had somehow made a surprise early return. But Shoko never made that much noise.
Turning your head, your breath caught sharply in your throat.
Sitting right next to you was none other than Ryomen Sukuna. He was, admittedly, the biggest unacknowledged crush of the entire campus, but he was also someone you never expected to speak to. You blinked in confusion. What was he doing here? His friends were nowhere to be seen not that any of them ever bothered to attend this specific lecture.
You quietly cleared your throat, attempting to break the sudden, suffocating tension.
Sukuna slowly looked up from his phone, his dark, heavy gaze locking onto yours. He deliberately set his phone face down on the desk before tilting his head. "This seat is free, right?" he asked, his rough voice sending a strange shiver down your spine.
You offered a small, cautious hum. "You ask before sitting down?"
A slow, amused smirk spread across Sukuna's lips at your defensive tone. Well, look at that. You weren't nearly as meek or timid as his friends had led him to believe.
"Touché" he murmured, turning his massive frame entirely toward you, his broad shoulders casting a shadow that made you feel incredibly small. The intricate, dark tattoos tracing down his face and neck were mesmerizing up close. "Can I ask you for a favor?"
You blinked, trying to maintain your composure. "Mhm, yeah. Sure?"
"Can you help me study for the upcoming history test?"
You paused, thoroughly taken aback. "Mhm... I can teach you. Sure. We can do it after classes."
"Perfect" Sukuna said, sliding his phone across the desk toward your hand. "Give me your number then, so I can contact you."
You stared at the device for a moment before gently picking it up, your fingers trembling slightly as you typed your digits into his contacts. You were completely bewildered by the sudden request, but a small part of your lonely heart felt a flicker of warmth. Maybe he wasn't the monster everyone made him out to be. Finally, someone was taking the time to approach you.
"See you around then" Sukuna said, sliding his phone back into his pocket. Without a single care for the professor who was still actively lecturing at the front of the room, he stood up and walked right out of the classroom.
Well, that was incredibly weird you thought to yourself later that evening as you unlocked the door to your apartment. You quickly fired off a text to Shoko, explaining the weird ass interaction. Shoko’s reply was instant, brief, and fiercely protective: 'Stay away from him.'
You sighed and texted back an agreement. She was entirely right. Sukuna was trouble.
Despite Shoko's warning, the next afternoon found you sitting at a corner table in the campus library, a massive history textbook propped open between you and Sukuna.
He was dressed down today, wearing a pair of casual grey sweatpants and an oversized black tee that left his heavily tattooed arms on full display. Despite his relaxed posture, he looked undeniably handsome, his sharp jawline highlighted by the harsh library lights. You felt suddenly self-conscious in your simple navy blue jeans and plain white top.
You kept a close eye on the clock. You had a shift at the pet shop in exactly two hours, so you needed to make this session as efficient as possible.
"Look, this specific question has a high chance of appearing on the exam," you explained gently, tapping a neatly highlighted paragraph with the tip of your pen. "The Cold War section is pretty straightforward, so we won't waste time on it today. Let's focus on these chapters instead, okay?"
Sukuna gave a lazy nod, his chin resting in his palm.
In reality, he was barely processing a single word. Every time you looked down at your notes, his eyes would drift, completely spacing out as he checked the clock or traced the patterns on the table. But the moment your eyes snapped back up to meet his, he would quickly nod, pretending to be fully engaged.
When you finally closed the heavy textbook with a soft thud, his attention instantly snapped back to you.
"You free after this?" he asked, a familiar, confident smirk playing on his lips. "I can take you to a cafe down the street as a thank you."
You offered him a gentle, appreciative smile. A tiny wave of relief washed over you; he really was trying to be nice. Maybe the campus rumors were entirely wrong about him.
"I'm sorry, I can't today" you replied softly, packing your notebooks into your bag. "I have to get to work. How about another time? We still have a few weeks left before the test, and we've barely scratched the surface of the material."
Sukuna raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "Uh... yeah. Yeah, sure. Where do you work anyway?" He asked, his voice carrying a strange hint of genuine curiosity.
"I work in a small pet shop a few blocks away" you said, a bright smile automatically forming at the thought of the animals.
Sukuna’s lips twitched. A pet shop. Of course. You looked far too sweet and innocent to be working in some loud, crowded bar or restaurant. "I can walk you there, I guess," he muttered, abruptly standing up, grabbing his single notebook, and shoving it carelessly into his leather bag.
"Alright" you agreed, surprised but happy for the company.
The walk to the shop was filled with a surprisingly comfortable silence. The evening air was cool, and Sukuna simply kept his hands in his pockets, his sharp eyes scanning the streets as he walked at a pace that perfectly matched yours.
"What are your plans after graduation?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence as you crossed a street.
You looked up at him, your eyes shining. "Oh, I'm going to start working full-time as a graphic designer. I love art, so it's a dream come true" you said, your face lighting up with genuine excitement.
Sukuna looked down at you, watching the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled. "Hm. I see."
"What about you?" you asked.
"Going to take over the family business" he stated flatly, his tone completely nonchalant.
You gave an understanding nod. "Ah, that makes sense. That's why you're so relaxed about these classes."
"Something like that" he murmured.
Soon enough, you arrived in front of the quaint, brightly lit pet store. You stopped by the door, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder. "Thank you for walking with me, Sukuna. See you around." You waved gently, giving him one last smile.
He offered a brief, silent nod before turning on his heel and walking away into the evening crowd.
And just like that, a whole week flew by.
Sukuna consistently stayed behind after classes, sitting beside you in the library and actually listening to your explanations. To his own surprise, he was starting to find the sessions somewhat engaging. You had created custom flashcards and short, competitive quizzes for him.and if there was one thing a guy like Sukuna loved, it was showing off when he knew the answers.
He started buying you warm tea before your study sessions, and he never failed to walk you to the pet shop or all the way to your apartment afterward. You convinced yourself he was only doing it to return the favor for the tutoring.
But as the days bled together, you found yourself falling for the version of Sukuna he showed to you. He was quiet, surprisingly patient, and attentive. Sure, he could still act like an arrogant jerk sometimes especially when he chose to completely ignore your corrections.but beneath the rough exterior, he was genuinely fun to be around.
One evening, you were walking home from a grueling shift at the pet store. You were physically exhausted, your muscles aching, but your heart was completely full. The shop had taken in a tiny, fragile kitten earlier that day. She was so small, weak, and malnourished that she couldn't even feed herself, so you had volunteered to take her home for the night to care for her around the clock.
You carried the tiny creature carefully in a small, blanket-lined cardboard box, keeping it close to your chest.
As you passed by the local park, your eyes caught sight of a familiar figure sitting alone on a park bench. It was Sukuna. A bright smile immediately broke across your tired face, and you altered your steps to walk toward him.
"Hey!" you called out softly.
Sukuna looked up from his phone, his initial expression one of pure, unbothered boredom. "Wassup?" he muttered, pocketing his phone. "hanging around?"
You shook your head, carefully stepping over the grass. "No, I'm just on my way home from work. But look."
You gently sat down on the bench beside him. Sukuna’s long legs were spread wide, taking up a massive amount of space, and you felt a sudden, fierce blush creep up your neck as your thigh brushed against his. Desperate to hide your burning cheeks, you hurriedly tilted the cardboard box toward him, revealing the tiny, sleeping kitten inside.
Sukuna parted his lips to say something, but before a word could form, a loud voice cut through the quiet park air.
"Uncle Kuna!! Who is that?! Is she your girlfriend?!"
A tiny boy, looking no older than five years old, came barreling down the paved path, running straight toward the bench with boundless energy. Your jaw nearly dropped. The little boy had the exact same wild, pinkish-black hair as Sukuna. For a terrifying second, you thought Sukuna had a secret child, but the word 'uncle' quickly registered in your brain.
"Shut up, brat" Sukuna barked automatically, though there was a distinct lack of real heat in his voice.
The little boy immediately stopped in front of the bench, letting out a dramatic pout before his wide, curious eyes locked onto you.
"Hello! I'm Yuji Itadori!" the boy announced proudly, puffing out his chest. "I'm five years old, and I love my Uncle Kuna! Pretty lady, what's your name?"
A genuine, breathless giggle escaped your lips, and you carefully placed the kitten's box onto the bench between you and Sukuna so you could properly face the child.
"Hello, Yuji" you said softly, your voice melting with warmth. "I'm your uncle's classmate. We're friends. My name is Y/n and you are so adorable." You reached out, gently patting his chubby cheek.
Yuji’s eyes went wide, a bright pink blush immediately coloring his face.
"Oh? Are you blushing, brat?" Sukuna mocked, a massive, genuine smirk breaking across his face as he poked the back of his nephew's head.
"No, I'm not!" Yuji yelled back, crossing his small arms defensively.
Sukuna snorted, his gaze softening in a way you had never seen before as he looked over at you. "Let's walk you home. It's getting too late for you to be out by yourself."
"Yes! Me and Uncle Kuna will protect the pretty lady from the bad guys!" Yuji cheered, instantly forgetting his anger as he carefully peeked into the cardboard box to look at the kitten.
"Her name is Y/n, brat" Sukuna growled playfully, reaching out to gently tug Yuji away by the collar of his shirt before the boy could accidentally wake the sick animal. "Don't crowd it, it's not a toy."
The walk to your apartment building that night was the happiest you had been in months. With Sukuna walking closely on your right and little Yuji scaling the curbs on your left, you laughed so hard your cheeks genuinely ached. For the first time in a long time, you felt a deep, profound sense of belonging.
By the time the second week came to a close, your relationship with Sukuna had shifted completely. He had even come over to your apartment a few times under the guise of studying. During one specific late-night session, while you were leaning over his shoulder to point out a map, he had turned his head so suddenly that your lips were mere inches apart. The intense, heavy look in his eyes had made your breath hitch, and you had secretly, desperately wanted him to close the distance.
He was everything you could ever want. Sure, he was a rough, easily irritated man to the rest of the world, but with you, he was different. He brought you your favorite tea, he listened to your rants about the pet store, and he actually studied the material you gave him.
You were completely, entirely in love with him.
And you were absolutely certain he felt the same way. Granted, his friends.Mahito and Kenjaku sometimes gave you so strange, mocking looks whenever you passed them in the hallways, but you brushed it off as them just being immature. Even the popular girls on campus were starting to look at you with bitter jealousy. You didn't care. You were happy.
"And... that's finally everything" you said with a bright smile, gently closing the thick history notebook and sliding it across the library table. "I bet you're going to write the really well this test tomorrow, Sukuna."
Sukuna leaned back, a casual smirk on his lips. "Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you're there early tomorrow to help me do a final review before the papers are handed out, alright?"
"Of course" you promised, your heart doing a little flutter. "I'll come extra early so we can practice one last time."
He nodded, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. He paused, looking down at you for a long moment before reaching out and playfully pinching your cheek. "Tonight. Come to the frat house. There's a party at 9 PM. Be there."
Before you could even answer, he turned and walked away, leaving you sitting at the table with a burning blush and a silly smile plastered across your face.
As Sukuna walked out of the library, his smirk faded into a complicated expression. He had actually grown to enjoy the time he spent with you, but his stubborn ego refused to let him admit it. He kept reminding himself that this was all just a means to an end a game to pass a stupid test and prove to his boys that he could pull off any challenge thrown his way. It was just a bet. Nothing more.
Meanwhile, you spent the entire afternoon in a state of pure, jittery excitement. You had even taken a rare night off from the pet store.
For the very first time in your life, you dressed up in something intentionally bold. It was a stunning, short black dress that hugged every single curve of your body perfectly. You slipped into a pair of elegant high heels, styled your hair into a perfectly loose, messy bun, and spent an hour carefully following a makeup tutorial until your reflection looked absolutely flawless.
You looked beautiful. And tonight, you promised yourself, you were finally going to tell Sukuna that you loved him.
When your cab dropped you off at the frat house, the entire street was buzzing. Bass vibrated through the ground, and cars lined the block. The second you pushed the heavy front door open, a wave of immediate regret washed over you. The house was a chaotic, suffocating sea of sweaty bodies, flashing lights, and screaming music. Finding Sukuna in this mess was going to be nearly impossible.
Pushing past a group of girls who were dancing wildly, you navigated your way to the kitchen, pouring yourself a quiet glass of water just to steady your nerves.
You checked the backyard balcony, but he wasn't there. Sicking your teeth, you decided to head upstairs, hoping he was hanging out in one of the quieter rooms. As you reached the top of the crowded staircase, you accidentally collided with a broad chest.
"I'm so sorry!" you quickly apologized, looking up.
"It's fine" a rough, deep voice replied.
You recognized him instantly it was Toji, one of Sukuna's close friends. He had sharp green eyes and a distinct scar resting on his lip. But as he looked down at you, his eyes didn't hold their usual mocking glint. Instead, he looked at you with a strange, heavy expression that bordered on pity. Before you could even ask him if he had seen Sukuna, Toji quietly stepped past you and disappeared down the stairs.
Confused, you continued down the dimly lit hallway. You carefully opened the first two doors, only to quickly shut them after stumbling upon couples making out in the dark.
As you approached the very last door at the end of the hall, the sound of familiar laughter filtered through the wood. You raised your hand, about to knock, when Mahito’s loud, obnoxious voice cut through the air.
"Hell nah! Are you serious, Sukuna?! That nerd actually thinks you like her?!"
You froze, your hand hovering inches from the door. Your heart stopped
.
Sukuna’s distinct, dark chuckle echoed from inside the room. "Yeah, yeah. Just relax. Tomorrow we're all going to pass this fucking test with perfect marks thanks to her."
"Man, that's brutal" Kenjaku laughed loudly. "Are you seriously going to dump her the second the exam is over?"
"Dude, don't!" Mahito chimed in, snickering. "Keep her around! I swear she could be useful for something!"
Sukuna let out a dismissive snort. "Nah. I'm gonna tell her it was all just a bet. She's smart, she'll get it."
A cruel chorus of laughter erupted from inside the room.
Out in the hallway, the world completely fell away. You stood there frozen, dressed in your beautiful new clothes, wearing the makeup you had spent hours mastering, feeling like the most pathetic, foolish girl in the entire world. You weren't a person to them. You were just a pawn. A joke. A convenient tool for a group of handsome, privileged guys who needed a passing grade.
Tears instantly flooded your eyes, spilling over your lashes and ruining the makeup you had been so proud of. The air in the hallway suddenly felt completely unbreathable, the heavy bass of the music downstairs pounding painfully against your ribcage.
Turning on your heel, you ran.
You shoved past the crowded bodies in the hallway, practically flying down the stairs as sob after sob ripped from your throat. You burst through the front doors of the frat house and into the cool night air, desperately pulling out your phone to call a cab. When the car finally pulled up, the driver took one look at your tea -streaked face and broken expression, offering a sympathetic sigh before quietly driving you away from the nightmare.
The moment you crossed the threshold of your apartment, the dam broke. You aggressively reached behind your back, ripping the zipper of the black dress down and tearing it off your body, throwing it straight into the trash can. You stumbled into the bathroom, harshly scrubbing the makeup off your face with cold water until your skin was raw and red.
Finally, you threw yourself onto your empty bed, burying your face in the pillows as you cried yourself to sleep, the agonizing sound of your own heartbreak echoing in the quiet room.
Back at the party, Sukuna casually checked his phone. It was already past 10:00 PM, and there was still absolutely no sign of you. Why hadn't you texted him? You were never late.
Letting out a heavy sigh, he stood up from the couch and scratched his tattooed arm. "I'm going downstairs" he muttered to Kenjaku, leaving the room to navigate the dense crowd below.
He moved through the sweaty masses, his eyes automatically scanning the room for the specific hair color and quiet presence he had grown so incredibly used to over the past three weeks. He coldly pushed away several girls who tried to wrap their arms around his neck, his annoyance growing by the second.
Heading out to the balcony for some fresh air, he found Toji leaning against the railing, quietly smoking a cigarette.
"Wassup" Sukuna muttered, leaning against the rail beside him. "Give me one." He grabbed a cigarette from Toji's offered pack, lighting it quickly.
"Looking for someone?" Toji asked, his green eyes fixed on the dark backyard.
Sukuna immediately shook his head, taking a sharp drag. "Nah. Why would I be?"
Toji exhaled a cloud of smoke, his voice completely flat. "I saw that girl. Y/n. She was here."
Sukuna’s entire body went rigid, his head snapping toward Toji. "Yeah? Where is she?"
"She went upstairs a while ago. Looked like she was searching for you."
Sukuna’s chest tightened with a strange, inexplicable surge of panic. He tossed his cigarette over the railing and immediately turned back toward the house. "Yeah, whatever. That girl... what a total nerd" he muttered loudly, desperately trying to sound completely unbothered so Toji wouldn't think he actually cared. "I'm gonna go find someo bitch to dance with."
But the second he was out of Toji's sight, Sukuna pulled out his phone, his thumbs flying across the screen.
Sukuna: Hey, where you at?
The message instantly marked as Delivered. He waited five minutes. No response.
Sukuna: You at the party or what?
Still nothing. Only the cold Delivered.
For the rest of the night, Sukuna couldn't focus on a single thing. He convinced himself that he was only looking for you because he needed to ensure his passing grade for tomorrow's test. Nothing more. But as the hours ticked by, he found himself opening every single closed door in the frat house, roughly shoving people out of his way just to check every corner of the property. You were completely gone.
Frustrated, anxious, and deeply unsettled, Sukuna ended up drinking far more than he usually did, desperately trying to drown out the sudden, heavy ache in his chest. He tried calling your number a dozen times until his vision blurred, eventually passing out cold on his bed.
The harsh blare of his alarm woke Sukuna up the next morning. His head was pounding with a vicious hangover, but his eyes snapped open with immediate clarity. Today was the exam. More importantly, he was going to see you.
He quickly threw on a pair of clean clothes, ignoring the texts from Mahito as he practically sprinted out of his room, got into his car, and sped toward the campus. His phone sat on the passenger seat, completely silent. You still hadn't replied to a single text or call.
When he arrived at the lecture hall, he bypassed his usual crowd outside and walked straight through the doors.
For the first time in his entire academic life, Ryomen Sukuna was the very first student to arrive in the classroom. The few early rising students stared at him in utter shock as he walked down the aisle, but he ignored them completely. He marched straight to your usual double desk and sat down, carefully leaving the chair right beside him completely empty. He kept his eyes glued to the door, waiting for you to walk through it.
His friends strolled in a few minutes later, throwing him confused looks before taking their seats a few rows back.
The professor finally walked in, holding a thick stack of exam papers. The atmosphere in the room instantly turned tense and nervous. Sukuna’s eyes remained locked on the entrance, his heart hammering against his ribs. Where the hell are you?
As the professor approached his desk to hand him a paper, Sukuna forcefully cleared his throat. " We should wait a few more minutes. Not everyone is here yet."
The professor blinked in surprise, adjusting his glasses. "Oh, if you're referring to Miss Shoko and Miss Y/n, there's no need to wait. Shoko’s family extended their trip, and Y/n called in this morning stating she is violently ill. They will take a makeup exam when they return."
Sukuna’s breath completely caught in his throat, a cold weight dropping into the pit of his stomach. Sick? Why hadn't you told him? Did something happen to you at the party last night? Did someone put something in your drink?
"Hell nah, that nerd really left us out to dry," Mahito whispered loudly from behind him, letting out a nervous laugh.
"Shut the fuck up" Sukuna snarled, his voice so dangerously low and lethal that Mahito instantly went quiet.
Sukuna fiercely flipped the exam paper over, intending to leave it blank out of pure rage but as his eyes scanned the questions, his hands stopped shaking. The answers practically leaped off the page at him. Your gentle voice echoed clearly in his mind, reminding him of the flashcards, the tricks, and the specific historical timelines you had forced him to memorize. You had taught him so incredibly well that he didn't even need to think.
He flew through the test in record time, his pen moving furiously. Before he even walked out, he roughly scrawled the answers on a scrap piece of paper and covertly slammed it onto Toji’s desk, ensuring his friends would pass too.
The second he finished, he marched down the steps, shoved his exam paper directly into the professor’s hands, and walked right out of the building, leaving the entire class staring after him in stunned silence.
He didn't care about the test. He didn't care about the class.
He got into his car and drove like a maniac toward the familiar apartment building he had spent the last two weeks walking to. His phone was still completely dead to your contact.
Arriving at your door, he didn't care about manners or neighbors. He raised his massive fist and began pounding heavily against the wood, the loud thuds echoing down the quiet apartment corridor.
Inside, you were curled into a tight ball underneath your blankets. You felt entirely hollow, your body aching from crying for hours on end. You hadn't eaten a single thing all day, and you felt physically nauseous. All you wanted to do was disappear into the dark.
But the obnoxious, relentless pounding on your front door was making your head split in two.
With a exhausted, heavy sigh, you finally forced your weak legs to stand. You dragged your feet across the cold floor, wrapping your oversized t-shirt tightly around yourself as you unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open.
The second the door swung wide, Sukuna’s furious expression instantly crumbled.
You looked devastatingly pale, your eyes terribly swollen and red from crying. Yet, even in your oversized clothes and unbrushed hair, his heart clenched painfully at the sight of you.
"Damn it, Y/n! What the hell happened?!" he roared, his voice laced with a raw, frantic panic he couldn't hide. "I've been calling you and texting you all night! Today was the fucking test! Where the hell were you-"
A cold, bitter scoff escaped your lips, cutting him off entirely. You leaned against the doorframe, looking at him with eyes that were entirely dead and devoid of the warmth he had grown used to.
"Oh, my bad Sukuna," you whispered, your voice dripping with sharp, unadulterated venom. "I am so sorry that I couldn't make it to the test to hand deliver the answers to you and your pathetic friends, why are you even here right now? Aren't you supposed to be dumping me today since the exam is officialy over?"
Sukuna froze, his entire face going completely pale. His chest tightened so hard he could barely draw a breath. He felt a sharp, agonizing ache pierce his heart. You knew. He didn't know how, and he didn't know who told you, but you knew every single thing. And for the first time in his life, Ryomen Sukuna felt a wave of pure, unmitified terror.
"No... Y/n, that's not... listen to me, that's not what it is" he stammered, his loud, confident voice completely failing him as he stepped forward, his hand reaching out to touch your shoulder.
You flinched away from his touch as if his hand were made of fire, letting out a sharp, breathless laugh.
"Please! Don't even start!" you yelled, tears freshly springing into your eyes as your voice trembled with raw pain. "What are you going to say now? 'Let me explain, Y/n? The boys made me do it, but I really like you now?' Is that your script, Sukuna? Well, congratulations. You probably passed your history test today. But you officially passed the test of being a total, disgusting fucking asshole. Now get the fuck away from my door, because I never want to see your pathetic face ever again!"
With every ounce of strength left in your body, you grabbed the edge of the heavy door and slammed it shut right in his face. The loud crack echoed through the hallway, followed immediately by the sharp click of the lock turning.
On the other side of the door, you collapsed against the wood, sliding down to the floor as a fresh wave of violent sobs took over your body.
Sukuna stood frozen in the hallway, his hand still suspended in mid-air. He felt completely shattered. "Hey!!" he suddenly yelled, throwing his weight against the door, his fist pounding against the wood again. "Fuck! Y/n, just open the damn door! Just fucking listen to me for one second! I swear to God, let me make it up to you! Y/n!!!"
He yelled until his throat was completely raw. He didn't leave.
One hour passed. Then three. Then six.
Sukuna remained standing firmly right outside your apartment door, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with a desperate, agonizing determination. The neighbors poked their heads out, staring at the terrifying, heavily tattooed campus kingpin standing guard in their hallway like a broken shadow. Eventually, someone called the police.
From your bedroom window, you quietly watched through the blinds as two police officers escorted a furious, glaring Sukuna out of the building and into the parking lot. A small, bittersweet pang hit your chest, but you quickly turned away, wrapping your blankets tightly around yourself.
He had won his bet, but as Sukuna looked back up at your dark, silent window from the street below, he realized he had lost the only thing that actually mattered.
A whole year had crawled by, but for Ryomen Sukuna, time had completely stalled.
The days, weeks, and months following that final, devastating afternoon had been a blur of frantic searching and bitter regret. He had shown up to the graduation ceremony early, his eyes scanning the crowd of caps and gowns until his vision blurred, but your seat remained empty. He had spent the entire night of prom leaning against the wall of the grand hall, ignoring the girls trying to catch his eye, waiting for a black dress that never walked through the doors. You had simply vanished, leaving a quiet, echoing void where you used to be.
He didn’t tell his boys a single thing about what had happened. He couldn't. Admitting that he had fallen desperately, hopelessly in love with the girl he was supposed to ruin only for her to completely break him instead would have made him look weak. It would have made him look pathetic.
And Sukuna absolutely hated feeling pathetic.
When he had finally swallowed his pride and gone back to your apartment building a month after graduation, a box of your favorite tea clutched tightly in his hand, a stranger had answered the door. The neighbors coldly informed him that you had packed up your things and moved to a completely different part of the city. No forwarding address. No clues.
Now, he was fully entrenched in his family’s business, running operations with a cold, ruthless efficiency that kept his mind occupied during the day. But the nights were the hardest. The nights were when your bright, crinkling smile and the soft sound of your laughter crawled back into his mind, mocking him.
Despite the shift into the real world, the old gang still hung out at the frat house on weekends, trying to cling to the remnants of their college glory.
"Where the hell is Toji?" Sukuna grumbled, his rough voice slicing through the heavy silence of the room as he aggressively threw his cards face-down onto the table.
"Pft. God knows" Kenjaku muttered, leaning back and puffing a thick cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. "He barely hangs out with us anymore. He’s completely ghosting."
"Maybe he’s just working. That actually makes sense" Mahito offered, surprisingly logical for once as he shuffled a stack of chips.
"Yeah, well, we all work" Kenjaku countered with an annoyed scoff. "It's not like running errands for the Zenin family business is that grueling. He could easily make time for us. It’s not like the guy is a CEO."
Sukuna let out a low, bitter scoff, staring down at his discarded cards. His mind was entirely elsewhere.
"Hey, what if he has a girl?!" Mahito suddenly gasped, his eyes lighting up with gossipy excitement. "Think about it! Every single time he actually shows up here, he’s glued to his phone, texting someone all day, and then he leaves early."
Sukuna slowly raised his dark eyes, a dangerous glint flickering in them. "That actually tracks. Whenever he’s here, he’s checked out. Always staring at his screen like a lovesick idiot before making some weak excuse to split."
"Man, who could it possibly be-" Kenjaku started, but the front door suddenly swung open, cutting him off.
Toji walked into the room, looking entirely relaxed in a pair of simple blue jeans and a clean white tee. His physical frame was as imposing as ever, but there was a distinct, calm lightness to his posture that hadn't been there a year ago.
"Oh, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence" Sukuna muttered dryly, his fingers tightening around his glass.
Toji let out a lazy scoff, walking past the table. "I'm here now, chill out." He slid onto the worn couch, reaching into the cooler to grab a cold beer.
"Why are you so damn busy lately?" Kenjaku demanded, leaning forward on his elbows. "You don't even have time for your friends anymore. What gives?"
Toji popped the cap off his beer, a slow, incredibly smug smirk spreading across his lips. "What's the matter, Kenjaku? You miss me that much?"
The entire room scoffed in unison, waving him off.
"Cut the crap, Toj," Sukuna interjected, his voice dropping into a dark, commanding register that instantly killed the lighthearted banter. He locked his intense gaze onto the older man. "Who’s the bitch"
Toji’s smirk fade, but his green eyes hardened slightly as he took a slow sip of his beer. He set the bottle down, looking Sukuna dead in the eye. "First of all, watch your fucking mouth when you talk about my gjrl-"
"Damn!!!!" Mahito shrieked, jumping up from his chair and pointing a finger at Toji. "You actually have a girlfriend! And you didn't tell us?! For how long?!"
Toji rolled his shoulders back, completely unbothered by Mahito's outburst. "I was going to tell you guys eventually, but yeah. It's been a while now."
"What's her name?" Sukuna asked flatly, his hand reaching into his pocket to grab his lighter. He needed something to do with his hands a strange, suffocating tightness was suddenly building in his chest, a sickening feeling of intuition clawing at his throat.
Toji leaned back against the cushions, his expression softening into something genuinely warm a look none of them had ever seen on the cynical man’s face before.
"Y/n" Toji said gently.
The entire room went dead silent.
Sukuna froze completely, his thumb halting right over the wheel of his lighter. The spark died before the flame could even catch. Y/n. The name echoed in his ears like a physical blow, a violent ringing in his head making it hard to process the air around him.
Is it her? His mind raced frantically, a cold sweat breaking out across the back of his neck. No. No, it can't be. It's a common name. It’s just a coincidence. Toji is dating someone else. There are thousands of girls with that name in this city. It isn't her.
He needed to hear him deny it. He desperately needed to hear that it was someone else, because if it wasn't, he was going to lose his absolute mind.
"Hopefully not that pathetic nerd from college with the weird personality" Sukuna chuckled, the sound completely hollow, dry, and devoid of any actual humor. He forced a mocking smirk onto his face, desperate to mask the absolute terror rippling through his veins. "The one who thought she was too good more me"
"Pft! Exactly!" Mahito chimed in, completely oblivious to the lethal tension suffocating the room. "Why the hell would Toji ever date her? She was so basic."
Toji didn't blink. He slowly set his beer bottle down on the table, the glass making a sharp, heavy click against the wood. The lazy, relaxed demeanor vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, terrifying aura that made even Kenjaku straighten up in alarm.
Toji locked his fierce, piercing green gaze directly onto Sukuna
.
"It's her." Toji stated, his voice dropping into a dangerous, gravelly register that left absolutely no room for interpretation.
Mahito’s jaw dropped. Kenjaku froze with his cigarette halfway to his lips.
Sukuna felt the entire world cave in on him. His lungs completely stopped working. The lighter slipped from his numb fingers, clattering loudly against the table. It was you. You had been hiding in the exact same city, completely out of his reach, and now you belonged to the man sitting right across from him.
Before Sukuna could even process the violent surge of rage and agony tearing through his chest, Toji stood up, his massive frame towering over the table.
"And you are going to watch your fucking mouths when you talk about my girl, alright?" Toji warned, his voice low, steady, and vibrating with a lethal protectiveness. He stepped closer to the table, his eyes cutting into Sukuna and Mahito like knives. "I don't give two fucks what any of you think of me. This exact childish bullshit is the reason I didn't tell you guys in the first place. You’re grown ass men, but you still act like high school kids running a playground."
Toji took a deep breath, his expression shifting from pure anger into a profound, unshakeable seriousness.
"I don't want a single one of you saying a single word about her. Ever. She’s my girl now" Toji continued, his voice softer but infinitely more powerful. "I am so fucking much happy with her. And soon, I’m going to be proposing to her."
Sukuna’s heart completely stopped. Proposing. The word felt like a physical blade ripping through his chest, shredding whatever hope he had secretly carried for the past year into unrecoverable pieces. You were going to marry Toji. You were going to build a life with someone else.
"If you guys can't respect her, and if you can't respect my relationship with her" Toji concluded, his gaze sweeping over the frozen room one last time, "then it's better if I leave this gang right now. I'm done."
"What the fuck?! Are you serious?!" Mahito shrieked, his voice cracking in sheer disbelief as he stared up at Toji.
Toji didn't answer him. He didn't need to. He simply reached down, grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch, and turned his back on them, completely ready to walk away from his oldest friends without a single shred of regret.
And Sukuna could only sit there in the suffocating silence, his fists clenched so tightly beneath the table that his knuckles turned stark white, completely paralyzed by the realization that his own foolish bet had permanently handed the love of his life to his best friend.
frat!boyfriend toji who isn't affectionate in public for the first few months due to his reputation at the school but people started to notice and it started to grow onto him. holding your hand as you guys walk to your next class, coming to the library with you to study when he should be at his 'frat meeting'.
frat!boyfriend toji who comes over to your apartment when your getting ready for his frat party, sitting on the bed as he watches you do your hair and makeup at the vanity in front of him
when you stand up to check your outfit in the mirror, he comes behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, peckering jaw all the way down to your neck with small kisses mumbling things like "how did i get so lucky" "my pretty baby". leaving you a giggling mess.
frat!boyfriend toji who happens to get into fights over you, once while you where sitting pretty at home eating takeout watching a movie when he knocks on the door with nasty scratch across his face. he sits on your counter as you stand between his legs cleaning his scratch up, scolding him.
"toji i cant believe you did something so foolish."
"mhm baby i'm sorry but he was talking crazy about you to his friend like i wasn't right there"
frat!boyfriend toji who loves when you play with his hair, folding into your touch every time you run your pretty nails through his scalp.
frat!boyfriend toji who pays for everything. you try to resist it, insisting just this once that you pay to get your own nails and hair done but he doesn't back down, sending you 400 on apple pay with a sweet message like "enjoy yourself baby."
frat!boyfriend toji who remembers everything you say and keeps tabs on it. you say you want a new game on your nintendo, 2 days later he's there at your doorstep with your favorite take out and a bag from gamestop with that new game you had been asking for. you say you wanna try this new spot in osaka? he's is booking a reservation as you tell him about all the fancy dishes they have there.
frat!boyfriend toji who gets laughed at in the best way possible by his frat brothers satoru and suguru claiming that he is "whipped over you" as they account all the times he skipped frat meetings and one or two parties to sleep in your bed and watch a movie.
"dude i haven't seen you like this in.. forever ?" suguru says confused
"im telling you suguru, this girl has him whipped!" satoru says
"well god she must be amazing, you haven't come to a frat meeting in like 3 weeks."
"what can i say, my beautiful girlfriend calls i deliver." toji says getting up, smirk running across his face.
frat!boyfriend toji who has your contact saved as something corny but really cute like "wifey" or "my favorite headache"
frat!boyfriend toji who LOVESS when you sit on his lap at a frat party, claiming you as his, your tiny skirt rising against his jeans. this man can not get enough of you
frat!boyfriend toji who will eat your pussy until he has your back bowing off the bed and you a whimpering mess, trying to cover your own mouth with you forearms. he is so filthy when he eats you, getting your wetness all over his short incoming stubble. when he's done eating he stuffs his thick fingers in you, finishing up the mess he started and licking his fingers off when he's done.
frat!boyfriend toji who is huge. the first time the two of you had sex you couldn't even take the whole thing without the burning pain in your abdomen. after a while it was a good burn, stretching you out perfectly. your pussy clamping down on his dick every time he thrusted into your slopping cunt.
"ah- mphf fuck toji m gonna-" you whimper out.
"your gonna cum baby ? yeah thats my good girl, cum on my dick pretty, show me its yours, you own this dick don't you?" he says pounding once more before you both cum into bliss.
frat!boyfriend toji who loves when you use your mouth on him. whether its kissing his filthy mouth or its fitting his thick cock into you mouth as he manspreads on your couch. grabbling a handfuls of your hair, pushing you down on his dick , making you gag on it till your throat closes as he cums with a groan into your mouth and brushes your hair to the side as you slide his dick out your mouth with a soft pop as you look up at him, getting up to sit on his lap kissing him spitting his cum back into his mouth.
god you two were sweet out to the public but you two were sure enough filthier than anyone else at home.
A/N : im almost done with the frat toji fic , i have about 1k words left but i just wanted to use this to get the ball rolling with my account! i hope you guys enjoyed this !! bye bye my velvets
all likes, comments , reblogs and follows are dearly appreciated!!
summary: a boy in your class tries to catch your attention, but (un)fortunately Sukuna already catched it
𝜗ৎ| jjk!masterlist <<previous chapter - next chapter»>
The lecture hall was loud, packed with the usual pre-class chatter, but you were doing your best to blend into the background. You kept your eyes glued to your notebook, gripping your pen tightly as a classmate from your group project leaned over your desk.
"So for the presentation on Thursday, do you want to handle the slides or the talking points?" he asked, completely oblivious to how much your heart was hammering just from the sudden social interaction.
"Um, I can do the slides," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the noise. "If that's okay with you..."
"Yeah, totally! That works—"
The classmate's voice abruptly cut off. The air in the doorway of the lecture hall suddenly felt heavy, suffocating even. You didn't need to look up to know who had just walked in.
Ryomen Sukuna.
The campus's most notorious, self-centered frat guy didn't just walk into a room; he commanded it. Today, he was wearing a loose tank top, making no effort to hide the intricate, pitch-black lines encircling his upper arms and wrists, or the dark circles stamped onto his shoulders. The sharp, horizontal tattoo across the bridge of his nose and the crown-like symbol on his forehead practically gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights. He ran a hand through his spiked pink hair, his extra set of eyes—usually slits beneath his normal ones—flickering open just enough to scan the room with utter boredom. He was a hedonistic, chaotic mess, and yet, nobody dared cross him.
As he sauntered down the aisle, his dark eyes casually swept over the rows. Then, they locked onto you.
Sukuna slowed his pace, his gaze dropping to the guy leaning just a little too close to your desk. A sharp, mocking smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but beneath it, a sudden, dangerous flash of irritation crossed his face. He didn't say a word, just lingered for a fraction of a second before continuing down the steps, leaving an icy tension in his wake.
Your classmate blinked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh... what was that about?"
"I-I don't know," you lied, your hands shaking slightly. This was only the third time you had ever crossed paths with Sukuna, and you had hoped the first two times were just weird flukes.
The moment class ended, you packed your bag as fast as possible, desperate to escape. You slipped out into the crowded hallway, hugging your books to your chest and keeping your head down.
The heavy thud of your heart didn't slow down even after Sukuna's tall figure disappeared around the corner of the bustling science building. The hallway slowly returned to its usual chaotic hum, students rushing past you to make their next classes, entirely unaware of the absolute panic attack you were currently hovering on the edge of.
You stood frozen for a solid minute, your fingers digging into the cover of your textbook so hard the cardboard bent. What is his problem? you thought, your mind racing through the three bizarre interactions you’d had with him this semester. You weren't anyone special. You were a quiet biology major who spent most of your time in the back row of lectures or hidden away in the quietest corners of the campus library. Sukuna, on the other hand, was the campus enigma—a chaotic, heavily tattooed force of nature who seemed to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, without a single care for the rules.
"Hey! Are you okay?"
The sudden voice made you jump, nearly dropping your books. You turned to see your project partner, Daichi, jogging up the hallway toward you, a look of genuine concern on his face. He had clearly witnessed at least part of that interaction.
"Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine," you said quickly, trying to force a reassuring smile, though your voice pitched a little too high. "Just... got caught off guard."
Daichi looked down the hallway where Sukuna had gone, his expression a mix of awe and anxiety. "Man, that guy is terrifying. Did you see his eyes? It literally looks like he has a second pair of eyelids under his normal ones. And those tattoos... people say they aren't even fake, like he got them all done by some underground artist before he even came to college." He shook his head, turning his attention back to you. "Look, if he's giving you trouble, you should tell someone. He looked like he was about to rip my head off back in the lecture hall just for asking you about the PowerPoint."
"No, it's not like that," you lied, desperately wanting to drop the subject. The last thing you wanted was for Daichi to get involved and somehow draw more of Sukuna's volatile attention. "He's just... eccentric. Seriously, don't worry about it. Let's just focus on Thursday. I'll have my half of the slides done by tonight, okay?"
Daichi still looked skeptical, but he nodded. "Alright. Just text me if you need help with the data analysis. See you Thursday."
With a final, lingering look of concern, Daichi walked away. You let out a long, shaky breath and finally forced your legs to move, heading straight out of the building. The fresh autumn air helped clear the suffocating weight from your chest, but the phantom feeling of Sukuna’s heavy hand on your shoulder lingered.
By the time Thursday rolled around, you had managed to push the incident to the back of your mind. The presentation was worth twenty percent of your final grade, and your anxiety over public speaking had completely eclipsed your anxiety regarding the campus's most dangerous frat guy.
The lecture hall was just as packed as it had been two days prior. You sat in the front row with Daichi, reviewing your notes one last time. Your hands were cold, a classic sign of your stage fright acting up.
"Next up, Group Four," the professor called out, gesturing toward the projector screen.
"That's us," Daichi whispered, giving you an encouraging nudge. "We got this."
You stood up, your legs feeling a bit like lead as you walked to the front of the room. As you turned around to face the audience of nearly a hundred students, your eyes instinctively scanned the rows. And there, sitting right in the dead center of the middle row—a spot he *never* usually occupied, given his habit of skipping class or sitting at the very back to sleep—was Sukuna.
He was propped up back in his seat, one arm thrown lazily over the empty chair next to him, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He wasn't looking at the projector screen. His golden-brown eyes were locked onto you, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face as he noticed you pale. The extra slits beneath his eyes were closed, but his presence was no less overwhelming.
Great , you thought, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of your neck. Just great.
"Go ahead whenever you're ready," the professor said.
Daichi took the lead, kicking off the presentation with a confident introduction. You focused entirely on the laptop screen, clicking through the slides you had spent hours perfecting. When it was your turn to speak, your voice trembled slightly on the first sentence, but you managed to find a rhythm. You explained the methodology, keeping your eyes strictly fixed on the back wall, deliberately avoiding the middle row.
But Sukuna wasn't making it easy.
As you spoke, he leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand, his gaze drilling into you with an intensity that felt entirely entirely unfair. When Daichi stepped in to answer a question from a student, he casually put a hand on your shoulder to lean in and whisper, "Which slide has the graph for the control group again?"
The moment Daichi's hand touched your shoulder, a heavy, oppressive silence seemed to ripple from the center row. You didn't even have to look to know Sukuna’s expression had shifted. The lazy amusement was gone, replaced by a sudden, sharp hostility.
"Slide seven," you whispered back hurriedly, gently stepping a half-inch away from Daichi.
The rest of the presentation passed in a blur. When the professor finally clapped, signaling the end of your turn, you practically sprinted back to your desk, packing your notebook into your backpack before the next group even reached the podium. You couldn't stay here.
"Hey, we did awesome!" Daichi said, sitting back down next to you. "The professor looked really impressed with the formatting you did on—"
"Thanks, Daichi, I have to go to the restroom really quick," you interrupted, grabbing your bag and bolting out the side door of the lecture hall before he could finish his sentence.
The hallway was quiet since class was still technically in session. You walked quickly toward the exit of the building, wanting nothing more than to get back to your dorm, lock the door, and pull the blankets over your head.
"Running away again?"
You froze. The voice echoed in the empty hallway, deep and laced with a terrifyingly sharp amusement.
You turned around slowly. Sukuna was leaning against a vending machine a few yards away, a half-empty energy drink in his hand. He must have left the lecture hall right after you did. He straightened up, his massive frame easily cutting off the path to the main exit.
"I'm not running away," you said, trying to sound brave, though your voice lacked any real conviction. "I just... finished my part of the class."
"Right. Sure," Sukuna scoffed, taking a slow step toward you. The dark, intricate lines of his tattoos seemed to contrast sharply against his pale skin in the dim hallway lighting. "You looked like a deer in the headlights up there. Tell me, does that idiot always touch you like that?"
Your eyebrows knitted together. "What? Daichi? He just asked me a question about the slides."
"I don't care what he asked," Sukuna snapped, suddenly closing the distance between you. He stopped just inches away, his towering height forcing you to tilt your head back to look at him. The air around him felt hot, charged with an aggressive energy that made your pulse skyrocket. "I told you the other day to tell him to back off. You're terrible at defending your own space."
"Why do you even care?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, fueled by a sudden burst of frustration and adrenaline. "You don't even know me, Sukuna! We've spoken exactly three times. You're just... hunting for reasons to be angry."
Sukuna stared down at you, his eyes narrowing to sharp points. For a second, you wondered if you had pushed him too far. A dangerous, unpredictable silence stretched between you. Then, slowly, the tension in his jaw gave way to a low, rough laugh that vibrated through his chest.
"Why do I care?" he repeated, his voice dropping an octave, becoming dangerously quiet. He leaned down, his face stopping just inches from yours, his golden-brown eyes flashing with a mix of amusement and something entirely possessive. "Because I don't like other people touching what catches my attention. And right now, you're the only interesting thing on this boring-ass campus."
Your breath hitched. Your heart was beating so loudly you were certain he could hear it. "I'm not an object," you murmured, your voice trembling.
"Never said you were," he murmured back, a dark, wicked smirk pulling at his lips. He reached out, his large, warm hand lightly brushing against the side of your neck, his thumb tracing your jawline for a fleeting, electrifying second before he drew back. "But you're mine to bother. Remember that. Next time I see that guy crowding you, I won't just look at him."
Before you could find your voice to reply, he turned around, tossing his empty drink into a nearby recycling bin with a perfect strike. "See you around," he called out over his shoulder, his tone casual and bored once again, as if he hadn't just completely upended your entire sense of reality.
You stood alone in the hallway, your face burning, watching his retreating back until he finally walked out into the autumn sunlight.
hi sweets!! sorry i wasn’t active this days but uni is killing me… hope you like my work! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
