Xeno

POE WIFE 19😛

[sugurusbeloved]

satoru thinks your child is... not yours?

you always knew your husband was silly from time to time — but it was undeniable that he was actually the smartest human in the whole world. growing up in the gojo clan had sharpened both his mind & ego, and he thought he was prepared for anything.

except, when his firstborn baby arrived... joy overwhelmed his "keen" senses.

"...i might've cheated on you."

for a being who slaughtered the most vile curses with a lazy roll of his wrist, satoru gojo looked pretty unidentifiable. his aquatic eyes were huge and clouded with bone-crushing guilt, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as he looked at the bundle in front of him, and then back at you.

the child was beautiful, this much was plain. but he was not your child. at least not recognizably.

there was no trace of the signature white hair or blue eyes whatsoever—nor did the boy seem to bear even a fleeting resemblance to your own visage. just a tiny, wrinkled little facade that belonged to absolutely nobody.

​satoru looked physically sick. all the color drained from his face, gazing at you with a kind of horrified panic, long fingers clutching to the baby's blanket. ​“i-i swear to you, i don't recall any of it," he stammered, his voice wobbling with dread. "i-i love you beyond measure. it... it must have happened without my knowledge."

what a fucking cliché it is, but he looked for all the world like a frightened man awaiting execution, fully engrossed in his stupid delusion.

"baby, please, you have to believe me, i could never break our vows... y-you know me, i-i would never—"

and throughout his meltdown, you could only stare with your mouth hanging hallway open, body frozen with absolute shock and bewilderment. is he really that braindead?

"satoru," you eventually interrupted his rambling, voice pitched a tad too high with disbelief. "the child came out of me. how exactly could you have cheated to make that happen?”

​an oppressive silence descended upon the hospital room, the gears slowly grinding back to life in his brain. his "brilliant intellect" that usually fed his ego greater than anything finally returned to earth as he blinked down at the boy; the sheer idiocy of the concept clocking into him. ​

​a breathless laugh bubbled out of his throat, the immense self-loathing leaving his frame all at once as he buried the baby's face against his broad chest ever so gently, his eyes shining with relief and a heavy humiliation.

​when he finally looked up, he was wearing a wet smile on his face, cheeks flushed and damp with the tears he’d been shedding over. lunatic. the curve of his pillowy lips trembled slightly as he offered a soft, sheepish grin, fully defenseless under your judging stare.

​“fuck, i’m an idiot,” he murmured, the vibration of his chest making his son startle in his cradle as he leaned in to press a tender, apologetic kiss to baby's head. “right, yeah. biology. i guess i'm the one who should be asking what you were doing nine months ago."

[rengoatku]

Gojo can't tan :(

“Remind me again how this happened?”

You stifled your laugh as you blinked up at a very pouty, very red Satoru.

“Don't laugh at me.” He grumbled as he waddled over to you, carefully sitting himself down on the edge of the bathtub in front of you. In your hands was a tube of aloe vera gel, ready to soothe your husband's sunburnt skin. Satoru let out a long sigh before explaining himself, “You see, Nanami went to Malaysia and he got a nice tan, and Suguru is always tan I mean have you seen his complexion? It's like he lives under the sun!”

You sighed in response, shaking your head as you lathered up some of the gel in your hands. “That doesn't explain why you look like a dried-up lobster.”

“Hey!”

“A crispy one, too.” Satoru pouted, crossing his arms — hissing at the contact and ultimately unfolding them again. “That is just cruel.”

“Anyway, sweets —” he continued as you began to soothe the gel over his arms, “— I wanted to get my tan in too. But apparently I can't tan, or maybe I put too much tanning lotion on.” He pondered for a few seconds, bringing his hand to his face to lean into his palm before flinching away with a small ‘ow!’

“Hold still you idiot, let me apply the gel and move your blindfold up.” You scolded him, hands reaching to soothe the aloe over his face next. “No! You're going to rub it in too hard — it'll hurt!” He recoiled as if you were holding an axe.

“Don't be a baby Toru, and I told you to move the blindfold.”

Satoru fiddled with his fingers for a few seconds, anxiously biting his lip. You were about to rip the blindfold off of him but then he finally began to peel the black fabric back into his hairline slowly.

“Oh my god.”

He tried to turn away but you stopped him. Satoru’s eye area was completely safe from any sunburn — which was good — but he was left with what would turn into a very ridiculous tan line. “Oh my goodness, Toru, what on earth have you done?” You heaved with laughter, arm clutching your stomach as you doubled over.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up.” He rolled his bright blue eyes, milky hair falling over his eyes as he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You just look so funny.” He gasped dramatically at your words, hand clutching his chest — and flinching at the burn — as if he were about to have a heart attack. “Gah! How could you say that to me? Especially in my injured state.”

You began to massage the gel into his neck and chest making sure not to press too hard into his skin. Satoru continued sulking and jerking at your touch, claiming you were ‘being too rough with his delicate skin.’ You could only scoff at him in return.

“Hey, how did the UV even get past your infinity, don't tell me you've turned it off.”

Your husband flashed you a sheepish grin, bright eyes sparkling under the fluorescent bathroom light. You landed a light smack to his shoulder causing him to wince in pain, “Hey! God forbid a guy wants to catch some rays.” You groaned at his words, “Never say that again, I will divorce you.” He only hummed in response, nuzzling himself further into your touch.

“You love me really.” You scoffed at him, soothing another layer of aloe across his arms.

“Unfortunately, I do.”

a/n: sorry this is short I have to many ideas rn and this was the one that didn't have a lot of plot :c

[mimuju]

sukuna is not happy about piercing your daughters ears :c (reposted from mimuju! art by @/sgtbake_r on X)

"no. absolutely not. you're not touching her."

sukuna's voice is a low growl, his massive arms wrapped protectively around your toddler daughter in the piercing chair. the lady with the piercing gun pauses, eyes wide at the tattooed giant glaring daggers from his spot beside you. 

she's tiny, maybe 2, all chubby cheeks and wild pink hair like her dad's, dressed in a frilly dress you picked out for her "big girl day," complete with little mary janes. you've been hyping it up for weeks—tiny sparkly studs, nothing crazy, just simple diamonds to match her eyes. but sukuna? he's been grumbling since you suggested it, muttering about "barbaric customs" and "ruining perfection."

"baby, it's just earrings," you say softly, squeezing his knee under the counter. "she'll look so cute! and it'll heal fast. millions of girls get this done."

he shoots you a look, all four eyes narrowing under those sharp black brows. "she's a baby. babies don't need holes poked in their heads. what if it gets infected? what if she hates it?" but he doesn't move, holding her steady on his lap, her little hands clutching his black shirt, babbling happily at the shiny gun like it's a toy.

the piercing lady smiles nervously, gun ready, trying to lighten the mood. "it'll be quick, sir. one little pop on each side. she's been great so far."

sukuna huffs, his breath ruffling your daughter's hair, but he nods once, jaw clenched so tight you see the muscle tick. "fine. make it painless or i'll make you regret it. i am unlike my wife, i have no mercy for mortals."

you bite back a laugh, watching him brace like he's facing a battlefield. the lady counts down—three, two, one—and pops the first stud through your daughter's earlobe. instant wail. a piercing cry that echoes in the small shop, her face scrunching up beet red, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks, little legs kicking wildly.

sukuna freezes, body going rigid, then twitches like he's been shot himself. "what the fuck was that?!" he snarls, his free hand slamming the counter hard enough to make the jewelry displays rattle, tattoos rippling across his skin like living shadows. all four eyes lock on the lady like he's about to curse her into oblivion right there. "do that again and you're fucking dead, you hear me?"

the poor woman stammers, the cheap piericng gun trembling in her hands, face paling. "i-it's normal! just the shock! she's fine, look—the second one's done already, see?" she pops the other ear quick as lightning, and your daughter's tiny fists flailing at the air, her cries turning into quiet hiccups.

you can't help it—you burst out giggling, hand over your mouth, tears in your eyes from laughing. "kuna, oh my god— she's fine! look, sparkles already! she's got her earrings, see how pretty?"

he ignores you completely, scooping her up fully into his massive arms, cradling her against his broad chest like she's made of glass. his glare stays pinned on the lady for a long beat, utterly murderous, promising vengeance, before it softens instantly on his girl. 

"shh, shh, my little princess. daddy's got you. that mean lady's gone forever, i swear it." he rocks her gently side to side, his huge hand patting her back in slow circles, the other stroking her wild pink hair with surprising tenderness. her cries taper to sniffly hiccups, soothed by his deep rumble of a voice humming some ancient, gravelly lullaby from his cursed past, the kind only you know about.

you lean in, kissing his stubbled cheek, still chuckling softly. "she won't even remember this tomorrow. but you'll be telling the story for years, won't you, kuna?"

he grunts, still shooting one last glare over his shoulder at the lady as you pay and gather her things. "no more piercings. ever." but he presses a soft kiss to her tiny forehead, her sparkly new earrings catching the shop lights like stars, and you know he's already melting inside, utterly whipped for his perfect little girl.

tags - babygirl : @sadisticslut666

perm - @whorishminds @throatgoatgeto @go-go-gadget-autism @thecrazyfangirlthings @grignardsreagent @strawberryshortcakkitty @naammiii @liasacountgothacked @annicishana @my-starlights @error-racoon-404 @afreakforyautja @cupidstrace @iam-souless @sindulgent666 @chewiebee @tojisballhair @ex1acy @palanggaaa @yourlocalcatscammer @ehcilhc @gravecyte @restingoasis @satorupi @laburantesdoll @sxpernova @thethyri @lostgeto @lilytrn @mikaari0 @chososballhair @nanamissilkytie @iwasabs @tojis-juicymantitys @laitifly @farylfordaryl @bl1ndv3lvet @booboobear-12 @6arcxm @sleeplessdancer @chloeee20 @deartoru @neptunezxx @ash273819 @sketchbonked @vanillakirstein @valberryboos @itimisu @livviaaaaa @kebablover @babyluvlol @audreytoru

sukuna - @lav4mpira

[coliessions]

satoru gojo finds it odd when your flowers go missing.

well, they don’t go missing per se—every bouquet he’s given you has spent its short lifetime brightening your vases… until they simply don’t. and each time, he compensates easily, never one to hesitate over “just because” flowers and gifts.

but what unsettles him is how he’s never seen them wilt. they don’t wither, don’t droop with time. one day they’re there, and the next they’re gone.

strangely enough, he never sees them in the trash either.

he tries not to overthink, but one evening it slips.

“baby,” he murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder, “do you like the flowers i give you?”

“of course i do.” you shrug, light and easy.

“then… would you rather they not be real?”

you blink at him, caught off guard.

“i just mean—” his voice falters, unusually unsure, “i don’t want you to keep them up for a while and then throw them away. they’re yours, but… maybe you’d prefer something that lasts. something permanent.”

you catch the faint crease in his brow, the way he fidgets like the thought is heavier than he wants to admit.

“toru,” you whisper gently, “are you upset that the flowers don’t stay longer?”

he exhales, fingers brushing through his hair. “i don’t know. maybe i just—maybe it scares me that they vanish so soon. maybe i want something that says our love won’t fade.”

for a moment, the air stills. there’s a tenderness in his worry, but also a shadow of fear—because even the strongest sorcerer knows that things he loves don’t always last.

you stand, wordless, and reach for a notebook tucked into your shelf. flipping it open, you press it into his hands.

inside, layered between soft pages, are every flower he’s ever given you. pressed, preserved, petals fragile but enduring—each one a record of time, of memory, of love.

his eyes widen.

“no need for plastic flowers,” you smile, voice low but steady, “when i know how to keep the real ones. they’ll last, toru. maybe not forever in the world’s eyes, but… enough for me. enough for us.”

and in that moment, he considers that love might not just be the worst curse of all.

[rinaxs]

many do not know that sukuna had a wife. he intends to keep it that way. he will keep the story of you and your love in his heart, where no one else can take it from him. when time has taken you from him, no one will ever be able to take the memory of you.

when you died, sukuna erased everything about you from the physical realm. no statues in your memory, no songs about your beauty, and no poetry of the tragedy of your love. at first, he did it all in rage. when you were dead and your ashes blew away with the wind, he tore down the house he had built to foster the love in your relationship. he burned the letters you saved, correspondences between the two of you when he was away and drowning in the feeling of your absence. he destroyed everything that reminded him of you, everything that would haunt him in the years to come in solitude now that you were gone.

angered by everything around him but especially angered by how helpless he felt in the days leading up to your death. the king of curses, ryomen sukuna, bested by time. utterly ridiculous.

"no one is above fate" you had told him once. before all of this and before you had fallen ill. thinking back on it, it seemed like a cruel joke. but at the time sukuna had scoffed. the idea of fate seemed so far at the time, and even more idiotic. in this world, there was no god but him. at least, he tried to convince himself. in the end, you were right; no one, not even ryomen sukuna, was above fate.

while sukuna refused and fought against the circumstances until the day of your death, the most heart wrenching part of it all was how accepting you were to your demise.

you no longer fought back the symptoms and your impending end. partly because you no longer had the energy or strength to do so. sukuna knew that you only indulged in the medicine and constant visits from healers for his sake rather than yours. the both of you knew it was a futile effort. but this was not the woman sukuna had fallen in love with. he even told you as much in an argument that had gone too far.

"you were never this weak," sukuna spat in frustration. "my wife must possess the strength to overcome-"

"your wife," you interrupted, calm and so terribly exhausted, "is dying, ryomen. there is no medicine or cursed technique that can overcome time and fate. i will not let you curse me for something out of my control."

sukuna never cried. but the first time he did was this night; when the argument had festered into something harsher and he revealed a brutality he once swore never to show around you. but in this moment, he saw you. truly saw you; how frail and thin you had gotten over time since the sickness had overcome you, how your voice became lighter and weaker in a way that made bile rise in his throat, but most of all how deathly beautiful you remained. despite the effects of the terrible illness, his wife was divine. sukuna remembers the feeling of cold tears pouring in his eyes before he fell on his knees to the side of the bed. even kneeling, with his height and stature he still towered over you but he never once felt small until now. he wrapped his arms around your frame, his touch more delicate and careful than it ever was.

he weeped because his wife was dying. and all the power and status he possessed was useless.

after your death, his rage only ceased when he found a small woven basket in the ruins of your home. he was surprised that it was able to survive against his power. picking it up, he finds a talisman protecting it from damage. he opens the box to find a flower bud encased in a clear amber sphere. he recognizes the flower as the same ones you decorated the shrine with on your wedding day. he also finds a note in the box.

an unbloomed flower to represent the beginning of a new love!

he feels the tears pool in his eyes but he refused to let them fall. instead, he places the note and amber bud back into the basket. he digs a small hole and places the items in before covering it up and leaving the ruins of his former home with you.

the world has nothing to remember you by because sukuna is a selfish man. he believes nothing on this earth-mortal, curse, or even god- deserves the right to bear witness to you and the love you shared with him. so he keeps you in his heart even when you are long gone.

zᶻ ૮˶- ﻌ -˶ა⌒)ᦱ woah i havent done angst in a minute... this is a little sneakpeak "the longest goodbye"! its gonna be like, dead wife haunting the narrative, yearning/mourning sukuna, etc taglist!! @cttelina @bunbun812

[fireflyschiikawa]

ex husband!sukuna : emergency contact

cw; angst + second chance romance

you had never driven as fast as you did today.

the moment you got the call from the ER it’s as if your mind had lost any semblance of sense and gone into fight or flight mode.

you clutch your phone up to your chest running to the ER reception trying to catch your breath,

“Ryomen Sukuna, he got admitted here can you please check?” you ask.

the tired middle-aged lady at the reception looks up at you “yes sure ma’am”. after some clicks on the screen she calls over a nurse who smiles at you.

she informs you that he’s admitted here and she can take you to see him.

“what’s your relation to the patient?”

you pause faltering, “oh um, i’m his wife”

“ex-wife” you exhale eyes scrunching up when breaching this still tender topic.

the nurse proceeds to nod and simply guides you to his room.

your heart patters against your ribs, you could recognize that crazy head of pink hair anywhere, you hadn’t seen him in 6 months.

although from outside the glass door you couldn’t hear the conversation he was having with his doctor and yet you could tell he was pissed.

the nurse walks in before you with sukuna not even sparing her a glance but suddenly the room shifts as if gravitating towards you the moment you step in.

his crimson eyes lock onto you, his face passive but you could tell. you could always tell when he was hiding shock behind an indifferent expression.

“right welcome, i’m doctor CK nice to meet you, i was just speaking to Mr.Ryomen here on treatment options”

“hey” his low voice hits your ears making you perk up and you nod in acknowledgment a hint of a whispered “hello” back in his direction.

“i’m sorry im not sure what happened?” you ask looking at the doctor.

“well your husband was brought in with a sprained wrist and a few minor injuries on his head, and had an agitated mental appearance”

oh well, sounds about right you think.

sukuna didn’t correct her for referring to him as your husband, you note with a flutter of an unknown emotion blooming in your chest.

“after a CT scan we’ve gotten to know that he..has a brain tumor” the doctor looks at you apologetically, “it’s probably the reason for his outbursts”

you feel your heart drop. slowly you sift your eyes back at sukuna unable to believe what you’d just heard.

sukuna in that moment was in a daze, he didn’t care about some tumor, not when you were here, with all your soft beauty.

he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“we’re going to do a brain biopsy just to get a better look at the issue and start on treatment ” the doctor says leaving the room.

“i..didn’t expect to get the call” you ask gaze still locked on his.

“why?” sukuna asks, blunt as ever.

“i didn’t think you’d have me as your emergency contact”

“you were my wife”

yeah, yeah you were.

“i’m surprised you hadn’t changed it”

he shrugs slightly “didn’t have a reason to”

you stand there arms crossed as a chill catches your body and memories of your marriage run through your mind and perhaps his too.

you’d been married for four years, your married life had been nothing but bliss, sukuna although rough on the outside was a fantastic lover.

things only went south when he started to get into fights with strangers, coming home angry and arguing with you about nonsensical things. his anger had made itself at home in his body and it didn’t spare anything not even you.

he was so unlike the man you’d been married to for all those years.

you think back to the doctors words.

something clicks and you move away ready to leave through the door only to be pulled back by a tattooed hand gripping your wrist.

“where’ you going?” sukuna spoke with that same assertive tone you knew so well out of those lips you’d loved for years.

gosh, you’d really missed him.

“i just,” you look down at your wrist and sukuna realizes he has no right to hold you like this, not anymore and tentatively loosens his grip not fully letting go, “i need to speak to the doctor.”

you pull your hand away and leave the room.

sukuna heaves out a sigh placing his hand on his heart unable to calm down his erratic heart beat.

you still had the same effect on him even after all these years.

you run up to the doctor explaining the situation of your marriage, his altered moods, him suddenly getting into fights.

“do you think the tumor could’ve caused him to act like that?” you ask the dreaded.

the doctor considers for a second and then nods,

“yes i think so”

you feel your heart break into a million pieces. all this time that you’d villainized and hated him for the way he’d acted not knowing that it wasn’t his fault.

that wasn’t him, it was the tumor..you look up another question on your tongue,

“will he be okay?”

the doctor puts a hand on your shoulder “it’s nothing to worry about, we’ll do everything in our power to make sure he will”

you cover your mouth with your hand holding back a sob.

all those nights filled with thoughts of the old him that kept you going, aching for the version of him you’d loved. it had been there all along.

you were going to get it back.

this time you wouldn’t let go.

you walk back into the room, sukuna turning to look at you, his shameless gaze openly checking you out, well you’ve clearly still got it.

before you could change your mind you walk towards him bend down and pull him into a kiss.

sukuna brings his strong arms around you pulling you deeper into the kiss which slowly turns into something darker, almost hungry.

you couldn’t even begin to fathom how much he had missed you, he’d dreamt of you often waking up in the middle of the night to find you gone, not in his life anymore.

thoughts of you haunted him, he searched for you in every place hoping you’d somehow comeback.

he knew he didn’t deserve your forgiveness, not for the way he’d been acting. but god he wished he could give you an explanation, even if he didn’t understand it himself.

to kiss you once again and feel the warmth of your body, to hear you fuss over him, he would’ve done anything.

you kissing him right now is salvation, unbeknownst to you.

you lightly push his shoulder leaning out of the kiss to catch your breath a flush rising on your cheeks.

“does it hurt?” you reach out to touch his head.

sukuna barely manages to control his wince grumbling about how it’s nothing and he doesn’t need to you to fuss over him.

“i want you to get better sukuna”

“and i want you back” he retorts.

you blush further at that shying away from his grasp.

“i’m sorry baby, for everything”

sukuna sighs rubbing your side.

“will you come back to me?”

“we’re divorced…” you trail off considering the possibility.

getting back with sukuna? maybe not maybe.

sukuna sees the shift in your eyes, hopeful.

“you give me your word doll and we can undo that anytime” he leans back a knowing grin on his face and hand still resting protectively on the small of your back.

you nod, ecstatic “yes.”

firefly; i’ve been talking to a sweet guy and decided to write this so i don’t spiral from obsessively thinking about him (◞‸ ◟)⠀⠀⠀⠀

more kuna works

[rengoatku]

Fratjo shows up at your dorm drunk?

A loud knock interrupted sleep, well your attempt at falling asleep. You turn over, eyes peeking at the clock on your side table, 2:12AM.

A knock rings through your room once more, slower this time, heavier, as if whoever was standing on the other side of the door was putting their weight into it.

You groaned, running your red-rimmed eyes and dragging yourself out of bed and towards the door. Who was up at this time? There's no way your neighbours were out this late and locked themselves out — especially not on a weeknight.

You straightened your night shirt and shorts, the shirt wasn't even yours, it still smelt of him yet you couldn't bear the shame of returning it.

“Satoru?”

Gojo swayed in the doorway, tall frame hunched beneath the dim hallway light. His white hair was a mess, cheeks pink from alcohol and the cold night air. His designer jacket smelt of cheap alcohol and expensive cologne.

And his usually bright, blue eyes looked… wrecked as if he hadn't slept a wink in days.

The moment his eyes met yours something in him cracked.

Before you could even question him on why he was at your dorm at this hour he slumped into your arms, his large frame nearly knocking you over. “Missed you… S’much,” he slurred into your hair, nuzzling his face closer and inhaling your shampoo.

Something in your stomach twisted. You shouldn't be bitter about it, not really, it's not like you two were official or anything. But it still hurt.

It hurt because he was the first guy to really see you, not just as the ‘quiet kid’ or the ‘nerd,’ Satoru saw you for you, despite being a frat brother, all those late night drives, those cafe study dates, even the lingering kisses.

Then one day he stopped answering your texts, started avoiding you in the library, and eventually told you he had lost feelings on some random Tuesday.

You cried for an entire week, beating yourself up for believing he would want to be with you.

“Satoru,” your voice came out shakier than intended, “are you drunk?”

“Only jus’ a little.” he slurred out, drool starting to pool at the corner of his mouth. “Why are you drinking, I thought you didn't like it?” He giggled at your words, “You always know me too well, pretty girl.”

He stayed clinging to you, backing you up until he was fully inside your dorm and the door clicked shut behind him. It was silent for a moment — except for Gojo’s breath in your ear, then something wet dripped onto your neck.

“Ew are you drooling —” you pulled him off you, finally meeting his gaze again, a soft gasp escaped you, “— why are you crying?” His eyes were redder now, soft tears spilling onto his pale cheeks.

He hiccuped, pulling you closer once more. “I lied… I messed up s’bad, I didn't get bored, fuck I could never get bored of you. You're so funny, and pretty, and you smell really good. Like a cupcake.” His rambling continued as fresh tears welled in his eyes.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself not to look away. “Then why did you do it?”

“M’stupid, that's why.”

“I know that, but that's not an answer.”

His head dropped forward until his forehead rested against yours. “The guys got to my head,” he admitted quietly. “They said I’m wasting my ‘potential’ and could pull that hot girl Shoko hangs out with.” He took a gasping breath, face contorting into one of disgust, “but she isn't hot, she's just not a nerd like you. But that makes you hot.”

You had to bite back a laugh, forcing a serious expression as he continued. “They said you're clingy, too serious but I loved that about you. You're perfect for my stupid self.”

“It really hurt me, what you did.” Your voice felt small, as if your throat was tightening.

“I know.”

“Do you?”

Tears blurred your vision before you could stop them. “You don't know how it felt,” you choked out. “Like I was some hobby, or some prop you kept around.” Gojo’s mouth twisted into a deeper frown, “Don't say that —”

“It’s true.”

“No it's not.” His voice came out desperate this time, yet somehow firm.

He cupped your face carefully, like he thought you might break apart in his hands. “You meant everything,” he said shakily. “That was the problem, I let them convince me that being utterly whipped for you was a bad thing.”

You stared at him through your tears, and a soft sniffle filled the silence.

“A-and I tried to ignore them, o-or tell them that I didn't care about you like that, but I do.” He gave a soft laugh, words sloshing around his mouth as he slipped further into his drunk haze.

Another tear slipped down your cheek, and he caught it with his thumb, swiping it away. “I wanted to answer your texts, to see you in the library at lunch — hell I wanted to come over,” he whispered, “I knew I fucked up.”

He was silent for a moment before speaking again. “I got hammered just to tell you this, y’know? I hate drinking but you're worth it.”

His eyes searched yours desperately. “Kept thinking about your laugh and your stupid jokes you make and the way you steal my clothes—”

A choked laugh escaped you despite yourself and Satoru’s expression softened at the sound. “There she is,” he murmured.

You shook your head, crying harder now. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah…but I’m your asshole…?” He looked down at you hopefully, “Ew, don't make it weird.” You laughed, wiping the tears from your eyes.

A tiny smile tugged weakly at his mouth. He swayed dangerously, alcohol still humming in his veins, “Let's get you to bed, Satoru.” You caught the mischievous glint in his eyes, “Don’t be a freak, I mean to sleep.” You watched his face fall then brighten up once more, “Can we sleep together —” He straightened when he saw your stern gaze, “— not like that.”

You guided him to your bedroom, he kicked his shoes off messily near the door and practically collapsed into your bed with a dramatic groan that almost made you laugh again.

“God,” he muttered. “The room is spinning.” You rolled your eyes, tossing over some of his clothes that you had stole forgot to return. “Hey, keep your eyes to yourself.” He muttered as he not-so-gracefully shimmied out of his jeans.

You climbed into bed beside him, the second you did, Gojo opened his arms. You hesitantly curled up next to him, the feeling oddly familiar.

“M’sorry,” he whispered into your hair, his eyes fluttering shut and sleep began to take him.

“I know.”

He pressed a wet kiss to your forehead, finally succumbing to the after-effects of the alcohol.

He's going to be in for it tomorrow when you ‘ran out’ of painkillers for his hangover.

a/n: thank you @ingydingyy for the request I hope I did your idea justice <3

Join the taglist

[spideyyeet]

➷ Unspoken Conditions ✦ 3 || Call Me

fratboy!sukuna x f!reader — fwb ✦ ongoing series

[ SERIES SYNOPSIS ] — it was obvious when this started, it was simply a mutual understanding between two horny college students, with very high libidos, and didn’t want any random stds that this was purely a sexual relationship only. and yet, both of you are unintentionally toeing the line between that and something else. —

[ TAGS ] — [18+]. MDNI. nsfw. angst. piv. size kink. rough. spitting. degradation. dacryphilia. fingering. masturbation. scent kink. sukuna has anger issues. sukuna’s really big. oral f!recieving. cum shot. plot. wc: 13.1k

series masterlist ✮ previous chapter ✮ next chapter

quiet silence filled the night. the steady rise and fall of your chest seemed to ease the pounding in sukuna’s head, pressing himself closer to you eventually pulling him to sleep.

after he’d muttered the quiet words against you, revealing the truth behind his hectic and miserable week, he didn’t add anything further. no further explanation of his family trauma, or why he was yelling on the phone. instead he just allows his shoulders to relax, brushing his lips against your jaw again, sighing against the warm skin, silently praying you can take the hint and be satisfied with that.

unfortunately for him, neither of you are mind readers. and the revelation only triggered an array of thoughts swirling in your mind. eventually being the reason you woke up the next morning.

the sun peaked through your sheer curtains as you rolled onto your back. sukuna’s arm loosely wrapped around your waist, laying on his stomach. the gentle rise of his back clear evidence of his exhaustion.

your lips purse.

fingers gently picking the corners of your eyes as you continue staring at the man sleeping peacefully beside you. his unruly pink hair falling over his forehead reaching just the top of his thick brows. his lashes lightly kiss his cheek, face calm.

his sharp intimidating features are gentle.

wetting your lips, you slowly sit up. thoughts swirling around the man. you carefully lean over him, grabbing your phone on the nightstand. the time blinks back at you, an annoying itch ticking your eye, you barely have time to get ready.

reluctantly, you maneuver off the man, setting his arm in your empty spot before crawling off the bed.

your eyes drift back to him when he shifts his leg. blanket falling perfectly over the curve of his toned ass. one arm tucked under the pillow, muscles taunt comfortably. your fingers grip the light fabric of your cardigan, brows pinched in thought, before crawling back to him.

your touch is gentle, afraid to disturb him, but also being your intention. your finger lightly brushes his nape, scratching under his ear as you lean over.

“ryo?”

you swallow the nervous lump, unsure, but ultimately shaking him lightly just to hear the gruff groan as he buries himself deeper into your pillows.

“it’s almost nine. i don’t know if y’have class too, but I’m gonna head out,” you hesitate, gauging his response as he lightly blinks, eyes squinting at the light. “you can sleep. the door locks automatically behind so it’s fine if y’leave later.”

his slow blinks clearly indicate nothings registering, especially when his eyes fall back shut. steady breath resuming.

well, you tried.

your morning routine is rushed afterwards. quickly showering and stepping out of the bathroom, and slipping into your room to grab some clothes. your eyes watch the man, still unmoving as you slip on your shirt, quickly stepping out to grab a quick post it. scribbling a short message for him before sticking it right on top his phone, giving him one final look before leaving.

now unlike you, sukuna paid no mind to what he told you that night. instead sleeping for most of the afternoon until his phone finally went off. no longer able to sleep through them, he grumbles into the pillow, sighing even louder when your scent suddenly floods his senses. fuck, he grumbles your name, not hearing a response he feels the bed. the cold sheets his clear answer. with a louder groan, he buries his face further into your pillow.

“haah,” his jaw tightens, rolling his hips down on the mattress, arms tightening around the pillow, eyes screwed shut in shameful pleasure as he gets off to the scent of your bedsheets. this was much better than fucking at his place, he thinks.

groan rumbling deep in his chest as he recalls your moans from last night, the pretty bruises that decorate your ass now. “fu-ck,” he chokes. he was inside you raw, his abs tighten, the way your velvety walls clamped around him, and your little whimpers as you pushed back, waiting for him to fuck you.

his face turned groaning at the friction, hand moving between his body, grabbing his base pushing it harder against the mattress. your sweet voice echoing in his ear, the flowery scent mixed with your natural aroma had his eyes rolling back,

ryo.

“ngh-shit—“

his body convulses, abs clenching and balls tightening as a spurt of cum hits the mattress. his hips buck, rutting harder into the mess, cock head rubbing against the soft fabric, inhaling the pillow with more vigor until he’s spilling more ropes of warm cum onto your precious bed.

his chest heaves, pressing his face into the pillow as he catches his breath. the distant cars in the background and the few voices screaming down the street has him slowly blinking the haze away.

his lips downturn, jaw clenching at the sticky mess beneath him, a shameful result of how he’d just humped your bed and in less than five minutes, had already cum all over it.

“fuck me,” he mutters lowly, rolling off the mess to sit up. eyes darkening at the spilled cum on your soft sheets. how pathetic is he? his eyes trail up, glancing over the few plushies he’d remember knocking to the floor and a few getting stuck between the mattress and wall. his mind was definitely set on you last night. he glanced further up, breath catching at the sight of your room.

cute. was the first word that came to mind.

his cheeks sting as he sat up, hand lazily tugging his cock, to wipe the excess cum dripping from his tip, standing in front of your wall. his lip upturns at the few postcards you had up, along with a handful of movie tickets you’d taped haphazardly up. his eyes continue soaking up your room. brushing his chest as he reached out to touch the cute zoro look up figure you had on your desk.

you were a full blown closeted nerd, he laughs to himself.

there was more trinkets around the small bedroom. candles and hanging plants, and a few books on a shelf.

then there were the photos taped beside your mini dresser. another airy laugh escapes his lips as he sees you in most of them. recognizing your two friends, shoko and utahime, in most of them. most of these photos has them in it, a few others were of another girl he’s never seen around you before. then there was one with gojo in it, he tsks.

his fingers dance over a few in curiosity. your hair was different in a couple—

buzz.

his short bubble of peace is popped in seconds. mind pulsing like a reaction as he drags his feet to the nightstand. brows pinching at the post it stuck to his phone, before answering.

his gramps voice was enough of a wake up call as any, the sharp barking on the other line triggering sukuna’s headache from last night. his scowl returning as his gaze skimmed over the note you’d left, your handwriting rushed, but still tidy enough that he’s wondering if you wrote it before or after you got changed.

his memory foggy, unable to fully register whether the soft voice he heard in the morning was really from you or his dream.

“are you even listening to me, boy?”

the clipped tone snaps sukuna back, jaw tensing as he tosses the note on the nightstand with a tsk directed towards his gramps. “i saw ya last night, what’s the problem now? seriously, you said y’wanted to stay out of this—“

“so you weren’t listenin’,” his grandfather tsks, sukuna licks his teeth in annoyance. hearing the old man take a deep breath, pushing down the frustration of having to repeat himself again, before continuing. “your brother skipped school, said he was sick this mornin’, I let him stay since i know he overheard everythin’ las’ night. but I’m comin’ back from the shop and the kids gone. not answering his phone. did he call you?”

sukuna’s face grows pale, falling down on the bed to put the phone on speaker and check his missed calls and texts.

“why’re you lettin’ him skip?” sukuna barks, “y’ never let me skip when I was in high school.”

“and look how y’ both turned out,” his gramps snaps, just as frustrated.

there’s no missed calls from choso, or texts since last night. his jaw tightens, checking his other missed calls, one from toji, “did y’ talk to toji?”

“called him first.”

sukuna’s eye twitches, “thanks.”

“he lives closer. and has a car, don’t give me lip,”his gramps snaps again.

“lemme try callin’ him, I’ll call you back if he doesn’t answer, and I’ll take the next train up,” sukuna’s running a hand through his disheveled hair, tugging at the roots as he ends the call before his gramps can say anything. swallowing the tightening around his chest as he quickly taps his younger brothers number, waiting impatiently, leg bouncing with each ring.

the veins on his neck strain when he hears the operator. curses falling from his mouth as he swipes out checking his other missed calls, and texts, until he’s suddenly getting a call from gojo.

“what?” sukuna snaps.

“morning to you too. do you not check your phone in the morning?” the fraternity president’s voice rings on the other line.

“I have a late class anyways,” sukuna grumbles, “y’need something?”

“yeah, first of all where the fuck are you? second of all, we have your younger brother hostage here.”

sukuna’s up. “what? choso?” he barks.

“yup, tried sneaking in here. and the pledges got him,” gojo explains, with an airy tone.

sukuna’s blood pressure spikes, jaw tense, “why the fuck—don’t let him leave, I’ll be there in thirty.”

“I I captain.”

—

one thing that you can guarantee about sukuna is he’ll be on time. and those thirty minutes of rushing through your apartment, ripping the covers off your bed and stuffing them in your washing machine, grabbing his shit and dashing out. was also accompanied by the rising anger pumping his veins.

his muscles tense. and by the time the front door swung open, everyone was holding their breath.

choso, aka. sukuna’s fifteen year old brother, was completely still when he locked eyes with the older brute.

“you.” sukuna seethes, footsteps heavy as he stomps over.

“wait!” choso yells, hand out as he tries turning to climb over the couch ready to bolt, but gojo was holding him down. “let me explain, ryo!”

“explain? why the fuck are you here?!” sukuna’s charging, arm extending to grab the kids collar yanking him up.

choso was still a growing teen. so the size difference, and strength difference between the brothers was completely unfair.

“I wanted to talk to you, man! c’mon put me down!” choso is grabbing at his brother’s forearm, struggling in his grip. the dark circles under his eyes a clear indication of teens restless night.

geto, who’d just come back from the kitchen, cautiously put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “calm down. he definitely just came to see you.”

the living room is still. the three boys quietly waiting to see what sukuna decides. his chest still heaving like an animal, desperately trying to swallow his anger, before releasing the kid, watching him fall back on the couch.

choso rubs his homemade band t-shirt, the material strained from his brothers grip of it.

“outside, now.”

the order is immediately followed by choso scrambling up. trailing quickly behind his older brother as they both step outside into the backyard. sliding door slamming behind them.

the ticking in sukuna’s jaw is not easily missed by his brother. the younger awkwardly stands in front of him as he sits on the concrete steps of the shitty frat patio. his arms propped on his knee as he leans forward, gaze lidded as he glares at the kid.

“I’ll hear y’out for sixty seconds, then I’m taking you home.”

choso’s shoulders tense, fighting the scowl on his face, fists tightening. “i heard what you guys were talkin’ about last night.” sukuna doesn’t react, only further escalating his brother’s emotions. “i feel like i get to have a say in this, and you didn’t even talk to me about it!”

the older brother leans back, glare harsher as he cocks his head to the side. “it wasn’t just my decision. gramps makes the calls—“

“gramps hates her and you do too!” choso snaps, chest heaving, eyes already brimming with tears.

“and you don’t?” sukuna’s stare rips through, reading his brother way too easily as the younger averts his gaze quickly. shoulders tensing up again.

“i…” choso swallows a lump. “i want to talk to her too….i wanna know why she left.”

“because she’s a piece of shit,” sukuna snaps, standing up as choso glares at him. “and I don’t give a flying shit why she’s back, and you shouldn’t either—“

“but I do!”

sukuna’s gaze sinks deeper, voice dropping as he seethes the next words out, every vein in his body straining, as if he’s controlling some beast from taking him over. “she killed dad.”

the leaves brush past their feet. wind waffling through the space between them.

choso shifts his weight, throat closing up as he looks away, tears stinging his eyes.

it wasn’t fair. nothing is really, and that’s a simple fact of life. sukuna’s hand comes down, gently, on choso’s shoulder. shadow casting over him as towers over the teen. his thumb tapping the kids cheek getting him to look up. “she’s not coming anywhere near you or yuuji.” sukuna’s eyes bore into him. “and that’s final.”

choso swallows another lump, jaw clenching.

“got it?”

gojo and geto glance up once the sliding door opens. sukuna walking back in, with choso sulking behind him. head down, hair over his face.

“everything okay?” gojo asks cautiously.

“yeah,” sukuna crosses the kitchen and living room. “gonna change real quick, keep an eye on him.” sukuna disappears upstairs, missing the way choso mutters, I’m not going anywhere.

—

the stale air of the library, and hushed whispers in corners seemed to be infinitely more distracting when you’re trying to focus on your work.

especially with the way shoko’s tapping her pen on her iPad as she reads over her lectures. your eyes unable to rip away from the movement, only allowing your thoughts to trail back to your morning recitation. jaw clenching as you look back down at your notes.

you had two more finals for this class, and you still haven’t heard from any of the places you applied to do research in over the summer. or from the clinics you wanted to volunteer in near campus.

the twist in your chest grew tighter. teeth pulling at the skin of your lips.

“wait, do you remember what we had to do here?” shoko interrupts, pushing her laptop so you can see the study guide she’s practicing.

you blink, scrolling up on your own iPad since you’d just done this study guide last night, your cheeks flushing as you explain it over to shoko, remembering sukuna interrupting you, and correcting something you’d done on the question.

shoko nods along, copying your work, which you don’t mind, not when you know you couldn’t have done it without his help.

however, this doesn’t stop your mind from wandering back to the six foot so tall man, wondering when he’d gotten up this morning? whether he saw your note? your bite your cheek, shifting in your seat, the bruises on your ass a constant reminder of what happened last night.

hopefully he didn’t skip any classes. your lips purse subtly as you tap his messages. nothing after last night…

you know he told you to text if you needed anything. but you don’t…at least nothing that has to do with sex. so it doesn’t count if you ask how he’s doing, right?

“okay thanks—ugh! I’m gonna fail this exam, I haven’t been paying attention at all,” shoko moans, earning glares from a few students near by.

you cringe, closing your phone, anxiety crawling up your throat. “please don’t say that, because if you fail then there’s a ninety-nine percent chance I’m failing too.”

shoko’s head falls on the table. “we’re so fucked.”

this wasn’t a good feeling.

the second churning in your gut. the palpating of your heart. everything feeling like these exams were the only thing saving you from the summer, and will be the ultimate reason whether you land some miracle of an internship this close to the break.

the sinking in your chest painfully spreading at the thought of your father’s inevitable phone call during finals week. the looming question of what you’ll be doing this summer felt like barbed wire wrapping around your neck.

“at least you have something to fall back on in the summer,” shoko cuts through your thoughts. your eyes widening momentarily, quickly pushing it down.

“yeah…” you mutter, glancing at your notes as shoko lifts her head.

“I wish my dad was a fucking surgeon, but he’s just a basic accountant. don’t get me wrong—i know how hard you work, but also…medical nepotism is such a steal. please please get me to at least shadow your dad over the summer, i don’t even need the internship,” shoko rants, only getting like this after four cups of straight coffee and no smoking breaks. your lips upturn.

“I already told him about you, I’ll get you the internship, don’t worry,” you chuckle, anxiety clawing at your skin.

shoko’s eyes light up. “okay please! I don’t wanna get my hopes up, but you’re the only thing I’ll have this summer.”

your face softens, lips gently pulling into a smile as you hum. the disgusting twist of jealousy simmering inside, itching at you. as much as shoko complains about the million exams you both have and struggles to stay awake during lectures, at the core of it all…she desperately wants to be a doctor. even though that means going through another four years of med school, and then more years spent doing residency. and the thought of that alone has you squeezing your wrist.

“are you gonna answer that?” shoko interrupts again, eyeing your buzzing phone.

“oh,” your lips part, a shot of adrenaline running through you once you see the familiar name. “one sec.” you mutter, standing up to excuse yourself to the hall. answering.

“hi.”

“hey,” the low rumble of his voice flows straight into your ear, warming your cheeks. “you wanna come over later?”

you glance down at your watch. “when? I’m jus’ gonna be studying for a few more hours.”

“whenever you’re done. I’m not home yet either, so no rush,” his gravely tone has you hiring the volume. distant voices in the background.

“oh, you still have class or practice now?”

“neither,” he tsks, quickly correcting himself. “my brother stopped by this morning. had to take him back to my gramps.”

your eyes widen at the reveal, stunned for a moment, before recovering. “you have a brother?”

“yeah, two younger ones,” he says. your lips curl. that fits, you think, definitely seeing the man as the eldest son. It explains a lot about his character. “what about you? you have any brothers?”

you shake your head, “no brothers. just an older sister.”

“hot.”

“she’s married,” you frown. sukuna’s contagious laugh breaks through the speaker, your cheeks flushing at the sound.

however between that moment, sukuna seems to connect the dots to the unknown girl in your photos. “she’s the one in your pictures.”

your brows pinch, “what pictures?”

“the ones in y’r room.”

your cheeks flush, almost forgetting the man has agency, and looked around your room after leaving him alone there. there wasn’t much to hide except—

“would’ve never guessed you’d be a movie geek. hiding everything in your room.”

“I wasn’t hiding anything. and I always talk about films,” you mutter defensively.

“oh films, my bad,” he snorts, ignoring the flip in your tummy at the teasing. “well come over and we can watch a film after.”

your pout can almost be felt through the phone. “you don’t have to bribe me with movies. sex is enough.”

it’s sukuna’s turn to flush, chuckling lightly as he takes a seat on the train. “yeah?” his voice lowers, just so his phone can pick up his words. “I didn’t break ya last night?”

“as if,” you shoot, hearing him chuckle again.

“how’s y’r ass?”

you flush, “it’s fine.”

“i didn’t get to see it in the mornin’,” he starts, dragging each syllable. “made y’cry a lot. big fat tears everytime a touched that pretty ass.”

“I wasn’t crying,” you tsk, cheeks beyond hot.

“you were,” he laughs, “s’ okay, I don’t mind y’ being a crybaby…gets me hard.”

“oh my god, shut up,” you huff, heart pounding erratically. the man barking out a loud laugh, as if you’re some fucking comedian.

“I’ll be at the frat in two-ish hours, come anytime. y’ can also get there before me and wait on my bed,” he teases.

“you want me naked, or should I keep the panties on for you?” you play along, not expecting the deep groan to hit your ear, chills running down your spine, heat pooling between your legs.

“fuck. yeah keep the panties on, wanna take em off myself.”

you swallow thickly unable to form words as you hum.

“kay, I’ll see y’later, crybaby,” the line cuts.

you’re frozen for a moment. lips parting before your hand is slapping your cheek. ignoring shoko’s raised brow when you return to your seat, you quickly pick up your pen, putting more energy than before to focus on your work.

unfortunately, just like most things for you. your studying goes on longer than you planned. the pulsing in your temples a testament to how much you and shoko fried your brains. hand cramping from the notes you took rewatching most of the lectures from the first half of the semester, preparing to do the second half tomorrow and sunday.

the campus was quiet. the few sound of cars passing in the distance, and rowdy campus bars still open this late. the noise seemed to be the only thing keeping you awake as you drudged down the street.

eventually arriving at the door step of the two story greek house. stifling another yawn as you press the doorbell.

your eyelids slowly betray you, swaying as they kept falling shut.

“you look worse than me,” the distant sound has you looking up. gaze softening with exhaustion at the sight of sukuna dressed in low hanging sweats and an oversized sweater, hair damp.

“I hate studying,” you mumble, dragging your feet towards the man, pressing your face into his chest, bag hitting the ground by your feet. “it’s so hard,” your words muffle against his sweater, arms coming up pathetically holding his shoulders, head tilting back to look at the fratboy.

his hand easily comes to your waist, rubbing the material of your shirt, as you pull him down, a bit too eagerly. “are you actin’ needy righ’now?”

your arms circle his neck, nodding your head once his lips brush yours, a small sigh escaping your parted mouth. “just a little…’s that okay?”

he chuckles, canines peaking as he licks his lips. “as long as I get to suck this pussy.”

“please shut up,” you grumble, lips pressing against his, ignoring the flip in your stomach when you feel him smiling. tongue easily slipping in, wet smacks filling the air as he locks your hips against his, leaning over, still kissing at the door until an obnoxious voice cuts in.

“close the door! all the bugs are comin’ in!”

sukuna pulls away with a tsk. he licks his lips, tugging you inside.

your fingers quickly snatch your bag, following his, lips parting momentarily to ask for some water, until you hear a groan in the corner.

your eyes slowly trail over to the living room, face going pale, muscles tensing…

sukuna halts, feeling you stop behind him, hand around your wrist as he turns, brow quirked.

“you good—“

your jaw clenches. tongue poking your cheek as you glance up, meeting his quirked brow with controlled anger. “i came…because you called.”

his lips upturn, “yeah.”

“then,” you swallow thickly, “tell “em to stop using those boys as foot stools,” your words cut through sharply.

sukuna raises a brow, looking over his shoulder in disinterest, almost forgetting how gojo and a couple of the other senior members of the frat are huddled on the couches, watching a movie, while the pledges are down on their hands and knees, being used as their own personal foot stools, some even balancing beer bottles and coffee mug on their bare backs.

sukuna chuckles humorously, licking his teeth. “you serious?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, brows pinching in mild hurt. god, you hate fraternities so much. your rub your cheek, unable to look away from the boys, noticing a few in the corner in push-up position, arms trembling and faces red.

sukuna has to control his eye roll, especially when he notices the way your jaw tightens, brows pinching even more, eyes swimming with anger. his grip doesn’t waver, tugging you in the opposite direction towards the stairs.

“we’re gonna be upstairs anyways, it never bothered you before,” he cuts heartlessly. your chest tightening, eyes snapping to his.

“well i never saw,” you spit.

sukuna tsks, loud and uncontrolled, eyes rolling exasperated, and head falling back, sharp jaw straining. there’s another beat. your eyes are lidded with annoyance at his hesitance. god forbid you don’t want to see a bunch of freshmen abused for no reason—

“on your feet!”

the sudden bark cut through the air. the pledges all scrambling to their feet at the command. a few bottles crashing on the ground as they all stand, sweating profusely. gojo lurched back when one pledge sent coffee spilling on his feet.

“what the fuck?” his eyes snap to the vice president. “excuse me?”

“we’ve got a lady here who’s suddenly bothered by this. so let’s be respectful,” sukuna sarcastically spits, already feeling your glare before meeting your eyes.

your name falls from gojo’s lips, brow quirking up. “seriously? when have you been bothered?”

“why does everyone keep saying that?” you snap, groaning in frustration. “always. I’ve always been bothered.” you huff, turning abruptly and stomping up the stairs.

sukuna and gojo exchange looks, both irritated and confused. sukuna rubs the bridge of his nose.

“just make sure she’s not seein’ shit.”

“she your girlfriend now?” gojo snorts.

sukuna glares, eyes sharp. “don’t start.”

gojo puts his hands up in defense. “I’m just saying, if she’s making demands around here I’m only assuming,” he laughs, a few other seniors joining in. sukuna scowls, dark orbs biting through them.

“just do me favor,” sukuna spits with a scowl, “I’ve done more jus’ so you can get pussy.”

gojo groans, head falling back. “yeah, whatever, okay,” he waves him off.

once sukuna settles the house, he eventually drags his feet upstairs. rough palms rubbing together, mind swirling with the problem that is you now.

at least you didn’t leave, is all he’s thinking. mind racking through ideas of how he’ll get you to let him fuck you. hopefully you’re not waiting up in his room to talk, because he sure as hell is not prepared to discuss the intricacies of the fraternity and pledges.

his jaw locks, eyes closing, twisting the handle of his door. deep breath—

the room is silent. your shoes neatly placed beside his door, bag a few feet away. then he hears the clearing of a sweet girl’s throat, catching his attention. his gaze tracks up, prepared for a scowl except—

“shiit…”

“i left the panties on for you,” you tilt your head to the side, moment broken briefly by your small yawn. but it doesn’t stop him from gawking in awe. throat tightening immediately, pupils dilating.

his tongue darts out to wet his lips, drinking in the sight of you sitting on your side, unclothed on his bed. the glow from his desk light enough for him to soak up the softness of your skin, the curve of your hips, your nipples perked up from the cool air, and your tired gaze heavy, and gentle, lashes kissing your cheeks every few seconds as you wait for him.

“you’re….” he stops himself, drawling closer to the bed like you’re some siren luring him in. his large form crawls over you like some deprived needy man. hand wrapping around your throat tilting your head to meet his lips in a passionate kiss.

“I’m what?” you pant, hand grasping his clothed bicep, as he presses a thumb under your chin, tipping your head further back, tongue playing with yours.

“you’re impossible,” he groans, letting his knee slot between your legs, kissing you hungrily. your head tips back, allowing him to trail wet kisses down your neck, sucking on the same bruises he left last night. continuing his path down your precious body, giving your breasts close attention as he latches his lips onto each hot nipple, squeezing them together and groping them.

your head tilts back on the sheets, arms relaxing by your side as he kisses down your stomach, licking a strip to taste the sweat you’ve collected throughout the day. your natural pretty scent invading his nose, and without wanting he presses his face between your legs.

“fuck ryo,” you sigh, stroking his hair affectionately, nails scratching his scalp as he nuzzles your mound, kissing the thin fabric separating you from his greedy mouth.

the only thing comparable to this lapse in sanity, is a trance like state.

the moment this man sees you unclothed on his bed, his body reacts immediately. skin heating up, abs tightening, unable to tear his hands away as he explores your body like it’s the first time, however, just a month in, he can kiss the sweet spot on your inner thigh with such precision, your pussy tightens every time, a new sweet heat flooding out, whining as you tug his sweater.

“take it off,” you don’t give him a second, pulling at the material until he’s clicking his tongue, yanking the sweater and tshirt off in one go. abs flexing as he kisses your lips again, harsher.

“y’er so fuckin’ annoying,” he husks, biting your lip as you whine, legs wrapping around his waist, just for him to pull away, pushing your thighs up, deft fingers wrapping around the flimsy material of your panties — ripping it easily.

“woah, what?” you gasp, eyes wide as he tosses the ruined material, cheeky grin on his face when he sees you try to close your legs. lips attacking yours again.

“my bad,” he mutters sarcastically, your brain too foggy to rebut, letting him handle you like some doll. the wet sounds of lips smacking each other, working you up, nails digging into his nape and bicep, as he rubs your waist and thigh affectionately.

fuck he wants to drop down already, but your lips are too addicting. the taste of your tongue, and the throaty whines you were letting out. “can probably cum just from kissin’ ya,” he admits, smile so wide he doesn’t even care how it sounds. and the flip in your tummy confirms how he can say just about anything and it’ll still sound so sexy, and not pathetic.

“no,” you kiss, hand feeling down his chest to palm his painful bulge. obvious he’s not wearing any boxers underneath. “had a long day,” you sigh as he kisses the corner of your lips, then your jaw, squeezing your waist.

“tell me about it.”

you sigh again, pretty chest rising, “make it go away,” your eyes flutter, his lips returning. hands spreading you out again.

“m’kay,” he groans, kissing down your precious body again. worshipping every touch and kiss, lips marking your soft skin as he settles between your legs again. tongue darting out as he uses his thumbs to spread your sticky lips apart, putting you on full display for his dark eyes.

you sigh in pleasure, the cool breeze hitting, hips shifting, unbothered by his staring.

“how can a pussy look so good?” he leans close, tongue licking a long strip through your pretty folds, groaning at the taste. “so good.” his hips lock against the mattress. diving for another taste, until he’s latching his lips around your cute clit, sucking hard.

“ryo,” your back arches off the sheets, legs locking around his head before he’s wrapping his huge arms around each thigh, holding you in place, slurping up your sweet slick.

“mmm fuck… y’taste so good,” his throaty groan sends shivers down your spine, jaw falling agape in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut, as you sink into the mattress.

sukuna can’t help melting to your taste, his jaw loosening to slurp louder, big tongue more sensual, caressing your clit over and over before going down to push into your hole. tongue feelings the tight gummy walls of your insides. thick lashes kissing his cheek as his messy tongue grows tender, worshipping your pussy, lulling your body peacefully.

it feels like you’re floating, moans once high, lowered, softly sighing and hiccuping when his tongue would swirl your swollen clit affectionately.

your fingers trail over your tummy, eyes heavy as you grasp his hair for balance, nails scratching his nape, pushing him further between your thighs. he groans in response. pulling back to spit on your clit, biting his lip mesmerized as it drips down your lips,

your tongue peaks out, thumb rubbing against your bottom lip as he glances up at you. pupils blown at the lewd sight.

“you enjoyin’ y’rself, baby?”

you nod with an airy hum, glossy lips parting as he leans down, lapping your pretty folds slowly, sweet syrup invading his mouth as he keeps eye contact,

“yeah?“

“yeah ryo,” you mumble, moaning softly as your eyes grow heavy again.

“y’look like you’re gonna knock out,” he chuckles, sucking your clit sharply making you cry unexpectedly, nails tugging his roots.

“m’ not—“ you babble, a surprising yawn managing to slip out.

he snorts, paying close attention to your clit, tongue running over the sensitive bud, until you’re whining a little louder, voice so sweet he’s subtly rutting into the mattress. slurping your folds obscenely, until you’re shaking desperately. jaw slack, tongue out as you come undone.

“mmm there we go,” he sucks your sweet juices, dragging out your orgasm as you tremble. tugging his hair, limps too weak and exhausted. “you’re kinda bossy tonight,” he tsks, climbing up to kiss your lips.

“might fall asleep…so put it inside me now,” you mutter, nails scratching his seductive v-line, pushing his sweats slightly.

“you can last long enough for a quickie?” he helps you push his waistband enough to pull his cock free. groaning against your lips as you thumb his slit.

“just wake me up if i fall asleep.”

“very funny,” he pushes your hand out of the way, reaching over to grab the condoms in the drawer. and in a matter of seconds he’s pushing inside you with slow, steady thrusts, lips back against yours.

“haah ryo,” your soft moans had him tensing, tonguing your bottom lip, eyes lidded as he watches your eyes flutter. nails lazily digging into his back with every measured thrust, thick veins stretching your poor cunt, lewd squelching singing in his ears.

“am i makin’ ya feel good? feel better when y’r stuffed full of my dick, huh?” his husky tone had a wave of heat burning your cheeks.

“yeah,” you hum, lips parting after another deep thrust, reaching your tummy,

“good,” he grunts, head tucking in your nape as his pace quickens a bit more, humming when he feels your pretty nails dig into his ass, clawing at him, legs locked around his body. “makin’ me feel good too,” he chokes when you clamp around him.

“yeaah,” you whine, head foggy as you feel his tip kiss your cervix, cock dragging out before hitting the same sweet spot again.

“yeah, baby,” he groans your name lowly, kissing your jaw as he picks up the pace, welcoming your body heat and warmth, ignoring his own thoughts to focus on pleasuring you. “ngh fuckk, you’re so tight, y’gonna cum?”

he’s snaking a hand between your bodies, thumb pressing on you clit harshly, rubbing the oversensitive bud until your crying out.

“attaa girl…c’mon you’re close,” he’s kissing up your neck, thrusts not seizing as he fucks you to another orgasm, chills breaking out, eyes rolling back. “haah fuck yeah,” sukuna’s palm presses into the mattress beside your head, gripping your thigh with the other, pumping his cock faster in your tight hole.

your jaw’s slack, choked gasps slipping out with each thrust. “angh ah haah,” your voice comes back as he continues fucking you through your orgasm, jaw clenched, sweaty head pressing against yours as you clamp around his thick base, his abs flexing, dropping his full weight into his final thrust, filling the condom with a low drawn-out moan.

the room stills once more, the distant sounds of the boys laughing downstairs, slowly pulling sukuna back.

it took little effort for him to tie and toss the used condom in the trash— missing.

he doesn’t move an inch from you, letting you turn over and leg still thrown over his lap, pressing yourself close, and kissing his neck softly. the soft pants coming from him easing your mind, eyes growing heavy once more. he’s so warm…

sukuna brushes your thigh, absentmindedly, lazily glancing at the bruises he left from yesterday. a weird twist clamping down in his gut at the large hand purple prints, ignoring the stir in his cock at the same time.

he breaks the silence, “y’know…you can tell me if it hurts…i won’t be mad.”

your brow furrows, shifting to tilt your head, pretty eyes heavy with exhaustion, but still shining up at him. “what’re you talkin’ about?” your thumb presses against the tattoo on his chin, unbothered by the casual intimacy as you brush it. his gaze briefly catching yours, looking between the pretty orbs staring up at him.

“the spanking. or the sex in general,” his usual scowl returns, caressing the pretty bruises on your hips too. however, you sigh, tired and slightly irritated, shifting yourself back so you can look at him better.

“if I had an issue I would say something, for real,” you sternly say.

sukuna’s jaw clenches, hand still brushing your side, then to your marked tits.

“you’re okay with this?” he asks again, hand now brushing your jaw, checking out the hickey on your collarbone.

you inhale, eyes closing before blinking up. “yes.”

the man is silent for another beat, licking his teeth in thought.

the argument from last night seemed so long ago. but your gentleness, and honesty made him waver. swallowing thickly as his mind continued to swarm around the tightness in his chest.

choso hadn’t spoken to him the entire trip back. well not until they arrived back at gramps’ place. yuuji had just gotten back from practice with megumi, the two eating dinner in the kitchen, when choso and sukuna walk in.

“you’re seriously gonna ignore me—“

choso storms past the two boys heading straight to his room.

“hey!” sukuna barks, following the teen.

“what’s going—oh ryo!” yuuji’s eyes brighten, swiveling around to greet the eldest, just as thier gramps, wasuke, walks in.

“where is he?”

“fu—he ran off to his room,” sukuna holds his tongue, jaw clenching in anger, standing behind choso’s door, wiggling the door knob. “cho!”

“leave him be. did he tell you why he went to you?” wasuke asks, still in his work clothes.

sukuna glances over at yuuji, jaw tight. “yuu can you give me a second with gramps?”

yuuji deadpans, “do we have to go to my room?”

sukuna nods, jerking his head in the direction of yuuji’s room beside choso’s. with a disgruntled huff, yuuji and megumi take their plates and disappear, door clicking shut behind them.

sukuna paces in the kitchen. head pounding as he tries to cool his breathing.

“deep breaths, kid,” wasuke grumbles.

“that’s what I’m fuckin’ doing,” sukuna presses his palms to his eyes, blood pumping faster thinking back to choso. “i understand he was fucking seven, but jesus there’s no way he forgot what happened!”

wasuke clenches his fist, sitting down at the table. “that’s young, ryomen.”

sukuna’s phone buzzes again, jaw clenching as he checks the message from the devil. more texts followed from last nights, spamming sukuna with ludicrous threats.

“fucking bitch.”

the crease between the athletes brows deepens. reading each text more thoroughly, and in that concentration only catches the backdoor slamming shut.

“who was that?” his eyes catch wasuke, both on alert. “yuuji?”

“yeah?” the distant response from the boy confirms he’s still in his room.

“did choso just leave?” sukuna mutters, jaw clenched as he storms to the back of the house only to catch choso’s figure running from the side of the house. “what the fuck?”

“ryomen!” wasuke reaches out for the eldest, but sukuna’s already kicking the front door open, just as choso’s running past, heading towards the parked car blasting music.

“don’t get in that fucking car, cho!” sukuna barks, right on his heels, and in a blink of an eye, right ad choso’s reaches for the car door, he’s being yanked back by his collar. meeting sukuna’s furious eyes. “you deaf?”

“I’m going out!” choso struggles in his brother’s grip, twisting in desperation, reaching for the car door, again.

“out?” sukuna violently kicks the door shut. “you fucking skipped school and ran to me and now you’re running off again!”

“I’m not allowed to hang out with my friends now?” choso snaps, eyes furious and red, obvious he was crying just seconds ago.

“not when you’re mute for two hours,” sukuna barks back, pulling choso away from car.

“h-hey man, we were jus’ gonna practice, we got a performance in a few weeks,” one of the kids in the backseat interrupts, head peaking out with caution. his beanie falls just above his eyebrows, brown hair peaking underneath. “I’m i-ino,” he squeaks out.

sukuna scowls, sharp eyes glaring daggers at the poor high schooler. “choso’s busy.”

“I’m not—“

“you are—“

“ryomen!” the booming shout had both boys freezing. chills running down sukuna’s spine, fist clenching around choso’s collar.

he slowly glances over his shoulder, meeting the old man’s eyes. “let em go,” wasuke barks.

sukuna inhales sharply, anger boiling over. “are you fucking kidding me—“

“you heard me!” wasuke shouts again. “choso, if you’re not back before ten—“

“I’ll be back,” choso aggressively snaps, shoving himself off the eldest, who reluctantly lets go, jaw tense as he watches the teen slip past him and into the car. choso doesn’t spare him a second look before the car’s speeding off.

dogs bark in the distance, leaves brushing past sukuna’s sock covered feet as he watches the car disappear, chest heaving. the sharp coiling in his temple has him squeezing his head.

“I’ll calm him down, you should get back,“ wasuke starts, sukuna passing him through the front door.

“yeah, because I’m always the bad guy,” sukuna grabs his phone and wallet from the kitchen.

wasuke’s temper rises, meeting sukuna’s, “watch your tone—“

“I’m watching it, and clearly it’s not enough considering choso’s running to me pretending like it’s all my fault, that bitch killed dad and suddenly strolls in outta nowhere!”

“did he say it was your fault?”

“doesn’t matter what he fucking said. I know what he thinks, and you,” sukuna shoves his shoes on, irritation gnawing at his insides. unbeknownst to either of yuuji and megumi peaking from the hall. “ill handle it all this weekend,” the front door swings open.

“ryomen—“

the door slams behind him.

“hey.”

the sweet voice cuts through his thoughts. head tilting down to meet your exhausted eyes. pretty.

“you just disappeared mid-convo,” you laugh lightly, thumb brushing the corner of his lips. he grunts, mind still distant as he studies your features lazily. you look unusually more tired than before. the slight bloodshot of your pupils, the lidded eyes.

his thumb brushes your spine. “how long were you studying for?” he husks out. chest rising evenly underneath you.

you sigh, head falling back, “too long,” your eyes close briefly, the silence filling the space once more before you mutter, “let’s talk about something else.”

sukuna doesn’t say anything. gaze tracking the way your lips part again with a gentle exhale, your fingers gently brushing his tattoo.

“how’s your brother?”

sukuna snorts, loud, “let’s not talk about that.”

you chuckle, glancing at his expression. “how old is he?”

“fifteen,” he tsks, thoughts swarming back to the forefront of his mind. “fucking teenagers.”

you laugh again, palm pressing against his pec, using it to gently lay beside him, leg still intertwined with his. “he rebellious?”

“he picks his fucking moments. like today,” sukuna pokes his cheek.

“same for your other brother?” you ask, eyes growing heavy with each passing second, but still attentive enough to hear him.

“yuuji’s another handful,” sukuna snorts, “not bad, just insane.”

your soft laugh eases sukuna. “how old is he?”

“just turned eleven last month.”

you hum, “so there’s still time for him to be rebellious.”

sukuna snorts again, brushing your hip as he shifts, getting comfortable. “wouldn’t be surprised. basically runs in the family.” you smile lightly, your blinks growing slower. “how old is your married sister?”

“too old for you,” you frown.

he shrugs, “I’ve done old.”

“stop talking.”

a loud unfiltered laugh rumbles through his chest making you deadpan. he grips your hips tighter, pulling you closer still laughing.

“ha ha,” you sarcastically laugh, glaring at him.

the laugh echos louder, infectious as his muscles relax, easing beside you. “you’re not gonna tell me how old y’r sister is cause’ you think I’ll fuck a married woman?”

“you think that’s the only reason?” you raise a brow.

he shrugs again, “if she looks like you then—“

“stop talking!” you shriek, the man ultimately laughing again. you huff, eyeing him as you mumble an answer to his question, “she’s seven years older than me, so I guess she’s uh, twenty-eight now.”

“so five years older than me then,” sukuna teases, but your brow flys up, leaning back in surprise.

“five years? you’re older than me? we’re in the same year?” you ramble, suddenly awake.

sukuna scratches his chest calmly, “i took a gap year.”

your lips part, “you’re two years older than me.”

“for two years. deferred my acceptance when I was in high school,” his eyes close yawning, clearly not in the mood to discuss those two years. “what’s your sister like?”

“stop talking about her,” you mutter sharply. sukuna closes his eyes with exhaustion, before your thoughts go to your older sister…jaw tensing, and body shifting uncomfortably.

“she’s really smart.”

your mind wanders off, eyes trailing up to the ceiling, shifting on your side. “super judgmental,” your words hand heavy on your tongue, inhaling sharply to calm your breathing. “but….also right about everything, which makes it more annoying,” the soft exhale beside you has you glancing at the burly man. eyes meeting deep crimson. “just older sister things,” you conclude.

the room grows quiet once more, just the soft breathing between you, exhaustion swimming in your gazes. the shouting downstairs seizing.

your gentle expression held an unspoken reservation. cheek pressed softly against his pillow keeping your bodies close.

his hand instinctively comes up, caressing the skin of your neck, breath escaping as he speaks lowly. “you close with your sister?”

your brain is slowly beginning to shut down, sleep gnawing at you, but still able to register his questions. “yes…but not like before.”

sukuna swallows thickly, unsure why he’s anxious, “before what?”

you blink again, eyelids struggling to stay open, “before she got married.”

sukuna’s jaw clenches, grip tightening on your waist. “do you hate her?”

your brows crease, “no.” your jaw locks, a storm swarming behind your eyes before closing them again. “it’s just not like before. being close.”

“did she pull away or you?”

“I don’t know….she did, it’s just—she’s still…” you cut yourself off, inhaling. “i don’t hate her.” you state once more. “do you hate your brothers?”

“no.” sukuna answers in a heart beat.

you sigh, hand rubbing your head, “you can’t hate your siblings. it’s impossible.” you swallow thickly, “they’re the only ones that know you.”

sukuna contemplates your words. mind wandering back to choso. the hurt in his sunken eyes before shrugging sukuna’s hand off and storming off to his friends. was sukuna too harsh? should he have heard the kid out? he only wants to protect them. something that’s impossible if choso keeps eating at him at every decision.

“I’m gonna…” your yawn breaks your sentence, pressing closer to the pillow, “tired.”

sukuna watches with low eyes as you easily sink into the mattress, consciousness drifting into the void, and even breaths taking over. the moonlight softly illuminating your gentle features. his throat closing in as he slides closer to you, arm firmly around your torso, forcing his mind to rest with the comfort of your small body.

unfortunately, the roaring thoughts in his mind never settles, so when his alarm goes off, the instant grogginess hits him like a trunk. limbs reaching out slamming his phone shut.

he shifts, arms pressed under the pillow groaning into it.

“fuck,” his body aches, muscles tense as he sits up. you were still dead asleep beside him. luckily it was a weekend, the gentle rise and fall of your back was like a beautiful trance. pushing the blanket further down your back, caressing the dip in your spine, large hand wrapping around your waist, leaning down.

his lips trail up to your nape, nose pressing into your hair. “you smell good,” he sighs, brushing your waist a little firmer. kissing below your ear, your name falling from his lips like a moan.

you stir softly, mouth agape as you exhale, arm shifting higher under the pillow, exhausted. he calls your name again, pushing the blanket lower as his lips trail over your much smaller bicep. each kiss wet and loud, making a show of the smacking.

“ah!” you jerk when he presses his face under your arm, kissing your tricep, then your armpit, inhaling. “what’re you doing,” you groan, eyes heavy as you push his head away.

“I’m tense,” he grumbles, kissing your shoulders now, moving behind you, to straddle your legs. “how about another quickie before my practice?”

your lips part with a yawn, shifting your hips when he massages down your sides, thumbs pressing over the dip of your ass. “m’kay,” you yawn again. palm pressing to your face waking yourself up. “wake me up a bit.”

sukuna hums, pushing his body between your legs, large palms pulling your ass apart, biting his lips at the sight of your hot cunt, and bruised ass. “won’t take long for this pussy to get wet anyways,” he chuckles, two fingers rubbing through your lips, biting a groan when he presses into your tight entrance, pushing in.

the immediate whine that drawls from your pretty lip has him groaning. “there we go,” he keeps a palm holding your ass open, watching his fingers pump inside your warm hole so early in the morning, “taking my fingers like a big girl.”

“ryo,” you whine into the pillow, hips shifting again, as he curls his fingers, your slick easily starting to flow out.

sukuna’s low groan had you clenching around his hick digits, “fuck, this pussy knows exactly who she’s talking too, righ,” he licks his lips, knees spreading further apart, heavy cock hanging between his legs, aching. “good girl,” he presses down on your ass for balance, pumping his fingers quicker, the wet squelching of your pussy has you shivering, the coil twisting further as you moan lewdly into the pillow.

your choked whines edging the frat boy, pupils blown at the sight, cock twitching at the obscene sounds.

“wanna grab me a condom, baby?”

you whine, wiggling as you try to reach for the few still on the nightstand. however, when sukuna curls his fingers again, shoving the entire length of his long digits deep inside your cunt, pressing against your sweet spot, your eyes roll back, back arching, ass pushing up and tongue falling out, falling over the edge.

“aww,” sukuna mockingly coos, chuckling as he fingers you through your trembling orgasm. “that was so fast,” he leans over, stilling his fingers inside as he grinds them inside, your back arching, pushing your ass into him. “there we are...”

“ryoo,” you whine, twisting in desperation, but he doesn’t ease up.

“c’mon, it’s so early, you can say more than my name,” he laughs, grabbing the condom you were reaching for, fingers still stretching your dripping pussy as he rips the condom with his teeth. “you want it deep?”

your words pitch when he keeps fingering you. “yeah.”

“hard?”

“y-yes,” you shake, trying to push up on your forearms and knees, legs butterflying against the mattress, ass rising in the air.

sukuna chuckles, whistling, “c’mon woman, is that how you ask to get your pussy stuffed? ya like shaking your cunt to anyone?”

“ryo, you said a quickie,” you huff, glancing over your shoulder, mind still foggy with sleep and now, need. you choke on another gasp when you feel his cock glide through your folds, wetting himself, then pulling away. your head falls back on the mattress, muscles weak so early in the morning. “ryo please.”

“as much as I like the begging, shake your pussy a little and I’ll give y’what you want,” the shameless request had your cheeks flushing, glancing over your shoulder to see the man in question leaning back on his knees, fat thighs spread and large palm stroking his lengthy cock, heavy balls tugging up with each jerk.

you lick your lips, spreading your legs further to arch even deep for him, ass naturally spreading, pussy on display for the frat boy.

“you’re soaked,” he groans, wetting his bottom lip, eyeing the clear slick dripping down your thighs and drooling out of your hole, hanging mid-air. “just from my fingers too,” his jaw tenses controlling himself when you suck up your pride, and wiggle your hips. “good girl.”

your face is buried in your arms, cheeks and neck hot with embarrassment, especially when his large palm is groping your ass cheeks.

it felt like hours of him staring, until you finally felt the burning stretch.

“good girls get rewards,” he coos with a drawn groan. hand pulling your hips back to meet his. “y’ like that?”

“mhm,” your voice is muffled against the sheets, eyes rolling back as he bottoms out.

“yeah,” his sharp jaw tilts back, throat bobbing as his grip on your hips tighten, pulling back slowly, letting you feel every curve and ridge of his cock, then jackhammering his unbelievable size back in. the precession knocking the air out of your lungs.

the heat in the room builds as sweat and sex fill your senses. drool coating the blankets underneath you as sukuna’s drills his cock straight through your cervix. his name falling from your lips with dumb fixation.

“sorry baby, still haven’t cum yet,” he’s grunting beast-like, arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you up.

“s-sensitive,” your head falls back on his shoulder, crying out as his teeth skim your neck, suckling on the flesh over your pulse point. “ngh!” you arch off his chest, his rough digits rubbing tight circles around your puffy clit, other hand groping your breast, pinching your nipple.

“yeah, I know…poor baby,” he mocks devilishly, kissing your neck sweetly, while the rest of his body is shoving you into another mind-numbing orgasm. vision hazy, jaw slack, and drool dripping down your chin. your moans pitch higher as he aggressively fucks himself into your tight pocket. “here we go—ngh, yeah fuck—“ his gravely tone right beside your ear has you clamping down in surprise, his body lurching forward, hugging you your waist back, shoving his entire length.

your vision goes white, gasp whiney as you completely fall apart. nails digging crescent moons along his bicep and forearm.

“s-shit,” sukuna pulses inside you, condom filling to the brim as he pulls out quickly, jaw tensing when he feels the condom slipping off his tip before he’s fully out. “stupid thing,” he mutters, catching it before it gets stuck in your pussy, tossing the rubber.

your head tilts, glossy lips brushing his.

neither of you could put into words how easily your bodies spoke to each other. mouths opening in sync, tongues pressing against the other. his arm held you close, humping his cock between your slick folds, jaw going slack against your mouth as another spurt of cum shoots out, hitting the mattress in front of you.

you kiss the corner of his lips, chest heaving against his strong arms. your hand sliding down to keep his cock pressed between your folds, your slick a drippy mess as he keeps bucking his hips, milking out a few more heavy spurts of cum.

the heat of your bodies wrap around you. sukuna leans back against his thighs letting your slump between his legs, hand cradling your face turning your cheek to meet his lips again. “that was good,” he husks, rubbing your sides, and kissing you again.

you hum, eyes lidded with bliss.

with another kiss, sukuna finally pulls away. a deep yawn escapes his chest, arms stretching over his head, rolling his shoulders back.

fuck, morning sex is refreshing. sukuna cracks his neck as he steps into the bathroom. unbothered leaving the door wide open and turning the shower on.

while you laid on his bed still basking in the post sex glow. you reached for your phone, rolling onto your back as you swiped through your notifications. your brows furrow at the time, it wasn’t as early as you assumed it was….usually his practice starts at six.

“hey, are you late?” you shout from the bed, hoping he can hear you over the shower.

“late? what time is it?” he shouts back.

you glance at your screen again, “eight twenty-two!”

there’s another beat of silence. did he not hear you? you carefully push up from the bed, first steps a bit unstable, before walking over to the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe, arm subtly covering your naked breasts as you poke your head in.

sukuna is rinsing the shampoo from his hair, water running down his muscular back, through the open glass wall, the sliding door broken and resting on the other side of the bathroom.

“I said it’s eight twenty-two,” you repeat, gaze swiping over him through the foggy glass.

“eight twenty-two?” he repeats, too distracted before he’s stepping back revealing his drenched form wiping the water from his face.

“yeah,” you nod, eyes swiping over his chiseled muscles. swallowing the lump as your eyes travel over his tattoos. “don’t you have practice at six?”

sukuna pushes his hair back soap running over his shoulders, reaching for the washcloth and squirting his body wash on it. “not today, we have a practice game, so it’s later in the mornin’ since the other team is comin’ to us,” he casually answers, rubbing the cloth against his huge arms.

in the month since you made this deal, it seemed that their were a few unspoken conditions you both set for yourselves. something you considered crossing the line. seperate from the rules you’ve both already laid out…this was just something you’d associate with…a couple.

and showering together was at the top of that list.

it was too intimate. especially when you’re blushing at the sight of him scrubbing the soapy loofah across his inked chest, traveling further south.

“oh..okay,” you steal one last glance before disappearing back to the comfort of his bed. it felt mistakenly comfortable, casually laying in his bed, stealing one of the shirts to cover up as you laid on your side scrolling through your phone. unbothered when he came waltzing out, drying himself off.

there was no need to comment on it. invested in texting shoko, while he slips on his boxers and throwing on his jersey, his steps heavy as his large form moves around the room, grabbing a couple things and stuffing his duffle.

“how long you stayin?” he asks, duffle strapped over his back as you sit up, eyes still on your phone replying.

“not long,” you glance up briefly, “can I shower then go? I’m gonna head back to campus and study,” you finish, standing up and texting shoko your eta, unfocused on the man a few feet away from you. you and shoko could probably crank out a few more lectures today and grab something to eat from the food carts outside the library. you also need to charge your laptop and ipad.

your mind starts to tangle once more, rubbing your cheek in thought as shoko quickly replies.

“hey.”

your head snaps up at the voice. sukuna’s jaw clenches, glancing between your gaze, “I said it’s fine.”

you’re momentarily frozen, awe-struck even, having him tower over you, his deep orbs boring into your own. “oh okay, thanks.”

he hums, thumb brushing your chin, tipping your head back. your cheeks flush, noting the way his eyes flick to your lips, heart beating faster as he casually leans down, kissing you softly.

it was brief. sweet. tongues touching, a quiet hum coming from your throat once he pulls away, brushing his thumb on your bottom lip, doey eyes blinking up at him. cute.

“I’ll see ya then.”

you try not to smile, even as it’s biting your cheeks, until he’s left the room. your palms press to your face, controlling the sudden heat that pumps under the flesh.

“go shower, idiot,” you mutter to yourself.

—

sukuna was many things. a frat boy, an ambitious junior double majoring in business and biochem, and a forward running on a full-ride scholarship in one of the best college soccer teams in the country.

all that sums up sukuna externally.

most people assume they know him right off the bat. especially with the tattoos that band his wrists, biceps, and face. assumptions and judgement is natural, especially if you’re a competitive athlete off and on the field.

however, what’s most frustrating, is when sukuna proves them right.

“I told you to calm the fuck down,” toji growls, grip tight on the captain’s jersey.

sukuna’s jaw locks, unable to rip his sharp glare from the opposing team’s captain.

“who the fuck is this ref? fucking elbowed my fucking eye and didn’t call a red card?!” sukuna tries to lunge at the man again, only to be aggressively held back by his coach.

“it’s practice match, cool off,” geto puts a hand on sukuna’s shoulder, immediately getting slapped away.

“I’m fine,” sukuna shoves everyone off him, jaw clenched as he walks back to his position on the field. they still had three minutes until halftime, and the voice call sukuna mistakenly decided to listen too before the match had left a permanent stain on his mindset.

toji steps back, arms crossed, veins bulging as the game continues.

sukuna’s plays sloppy and reckless. “pass! gojo’s open!” toji shouts, only to watch his captain completely disregard the entire teams shouting to dribble the ball across the field.

“ignoring my messages only further proves how childish you are, sukuna. i am trying desperately to be as civil as possible, however, this has continued long enough, the next time you’ll hear from me, will have big consequences.”

fuck! that fucking bitch! sukuna’s mind internally screams, replaying her voicemail over and over. the smug lit in her voice, the condescending tone she’s always spoken to him with. she better be grateful that toji is coming with him today or he sure as hell would have her buried somewhere for the way she’s acting, with everything that’s she’s done to him—to choso—to yuuji—to dad—

“shit!”

“seriously kuna!” gojo snaps. the ball suddenly swiped from sukuna’s feet, opposing team passing it further away from him, immediately igniting sukuna’s rage—

“calm down,” geto suddenly appears beside sukuna, arm firmly pressing into the captain’s chest, holding him back, and preventing him from charging at some random player.

“get off me,” sukuna grits, vision red.

geto firmly stands in front of the player, using his entire body weight to keep their captain from snapping over the edge, clearly something their used too, but never to his own teammates. “we have a minute left, it’s fine, it’s just a practice match—“

however, to the audience in the stands who have gathered to watch their school’s practice match, they watch as their captain inevitably loses his cool, and shoves his teammates to the ground, hard.

“woah!” gasps echo through the small crowd. eyes wide as they watch the other tackle the captain to the ground, immediate fight breaking out.

unbeknownst to sukuna, a few feet away at the stands, is shoko waving you down. your lips part, glancing at the commotion on the field, making your way over to your friend. now freshly showered and wearing your jeans from yesterday, and one of sukuna’s random graphic tee’s tucked into your bra from the back.

“what’s going on?” you drop your bag beside you, taking a seat next to shoko eyes trying to make out the huddle of men on the field shoving and pulling at each other.

shoko is chewing on a pocky stick, offering you one, “don’t know, but sukuna and suguru are fighting.”

your brows pinch, “whaaa?” your eyes whip back to the field, and low and behold, sukuna is being dragged away by toji and the assistant coach, while gojo and another teammate hold geto back. “woah, do they always fight in games?”

shoko shrugs, biting into another stick, relaxing on the stands, “don’t know, don’t care. was just killing time watching them, and I’m enjoying the free entertainment.”

you snort, relaxing beside your friend, yawn coming out as you take another stick from the packet. “true,” you get comfortable, unbothered by the mess on the field since the fight has died down.

a break is good. you and shoko can watch a practice match for another forty-five minutes before you kill yourselves in the library again. your chest straining at the thought of the upcoming exams this week. two weeks left of classes and then straight to finals week. you were gonna be sick.

unfortunately, shoko seems to have the same mindset, and decides the best way to spend this halftime, was to discuss your study schedules for the next two weeks.

neither of you paying attention when the game resumes afterwards, oblivious to the many mistakes and fights that break out amoung the home team. that’s until a certain call is made.

“number eighteen off the field!”

you and shoko simultaneously look back at the field, iPads and calendars discarded to see everyone on the field holding their breaths. your eyes zero in on number eighteen, sukuna.

“oh they’re switching him out?” you mutter in question, watching closely as sukuna storms towards, who you’re guessing to be, coach toji. you’ve never seen him in person, how could you? you’ve never been to any of their games or practices before. you’ve only ever heard stories about the grueling coach, working the boys till they’re limp on the floor.

you’re momentarily surprised when sukuna stands in front of the man, standing a few inches higher than the captain. “woah,” you mumble to yourself, unable to make out the heated conversation from the stands, but sukuna looked close to snapping the man’s neck. “did something happen at the beginning of the game?”

shoko shrugs, also invested in the commotion, especially when people start whispering when they start hearing the shouting coming from their captain. “I’ve only ever seen them play a couple times, but something’s definitely going on with him.”

your brows scrunch, “he was fine this morning.”

“huh?” shoko whips to look at you, eyes wide.

you meet her gaze with your own surprised one, “what?”

“you were together this morning?”

you rub your chin casually, “yeah, we slept together last night.”

shoko eyes grow wider, “wasn’t he ignoring you for like a week?”

oh…you forgot to tell her. “not ignoring me…he was just busy. but he came over to go over the lab the other day, and yeah. then I saw him again last night because he asked.”

shoko gives you a pointed look.

“what?”

she shrugs, not reassuring, but also not pushing. so you reserve to looking back at the field, and with your luck, you meet his eyes as he’s storming off the field.

his sharp glare pierces you, face scrunching in mild surprise.

“sukuna!” gojo shouts after him, ultimately being held back by the coach.

“let em go, he needs to calm down,” toji pulls the athlete back, clapping his hands to get them back on the field, letting his captain storm off.

neither you or shoko fully delve into what happens afterwards.

your legs push down, standing up and leaving your bag with shoko. “I’m gonna see if he’s okay, and say hi before we leave.”

“why?”

you shrug casually, “i think it’s rude if i just fuck him then show up to his match randomly without saying hi.”

shoko gives you a look that you brush off. following after the frat boy.

it wasn’t difficult to spot him. considering he stormed off without any of his belongings, he didn’t get pretty far. instead pacing back n forth, phone pressed to his ear near the road, fists tightly clenched around the hem of his jersey, wiping the sweat from his chin.

you can hear the shouting before you reach him. clearly not taking the opportunity to cool off, and instead popping another muscle with how tightly he’s clenching his jaw.

“don’t you fucking dare get five hundred feet of that fucking house!”

the spring breeze brushes in front of you, pushing you from the man, but unable to listen, you draw closer.

“you can’t wait two fucking hours?” his back faces you, heaving and wound up, and now you’re starting to regret coming. you assumed he’d be pissed, considering he got kicked off the field, but normal people cool off, get a glass of water. hell, you’re naive head really thought he’d want some company, even if it was just a short hello from you. but hearing him shout on the phone, remembering the information he told you the other day…

the call abruptly ends, time slowing to a unnerving pace, swallowing thickly once he turns around. your face going pale.

red irises lidded with rage meet yours. you can see the way his body tenses, teeth gritting, before opening his big mouth.

“what the fuck.”

the edges tone immediately had you cringing. the absolute annoyance that laced his voice the moment he saw you, and you really felt like an idiot now.

the words die off your tongue, heart beating quicker, and the only thing you could do was laugh. “sorry,” you cringe even more, stepping back to leave. “just wanted to say hi, before uh…leaving,” you point over your shoulder awkwardly.

his eyes rack over you. expression blank, with the exception of his knitted brows, and unwavering glare.

it’s moments like these that make you realize how much of a stranger this man is. you couldn’t decipher a thing about him. sex really is just sex. even if your heart is beating a bit quicker, unsure what else to say, especially when his eyes rip away from you the second his phone buzzes.

“don’t go.” his words cut, halting your retreating form.

your lips part momentarily, glancing back at him as he types on his phone, tongue poking his cheek. “um…I have to go study.”

“you came here first,” his tone is sharp, defensive.

“well, yeah…to say hi,” you wet your lip awkwardly annoyed. “obviously that was a mistake,” and with full transparency, you meant no offense, it was the truth. who follows a hungry tiger into the woods and expects a friendly chat?

“what? because I’m on the phone?” he snaps, still typing, barely sparing you a glance.

you feel your own phone buzz in your pocket, knowing full well shoko was texting. “it’s fine, you can have your space.”

“seriously?”

your head tilts with a clip, lately his words have been hitting a nerve that you seriously can’t seem to shake. “seriously what? space? I’m giving you space, is that a problem?”

“did i say i needed space?” he snaps aggressively. your jaw locks, face scrunching in annoyance. he’s really one to rub it in.

“no,” you tsk.

sukuna’s tongue presses on his molars, muscles tensing, attention back to his phone. “you came to say hi, give me a fucking second. your jaw tenses, blood boiling at the demanding tone, all for him to finish texting and grasp your jaw in surprise. your eyes swim with confusion, glancing between his lidded gaze. “was I mean?”

god, he’s so annoying! your stomach churns, averting your gaze. “it’s whatever. I’m gonna go now.” — his grip doesn’t loosen, instead holding your waist with his other hand keeping you still.

your muscles tense, mind swimming to the last time he held you like this.

it was not pleasant realizing after making this deal, and having sex for the better half of this semester….that sukuna has a temper.

“just—“ his words break off. thumb brushing the bare skin of your hip, palm locked on your jaw, eyes distant with other thoughts, none of which having to do with you, but also…his pupils concentrate on your guarded expression, hand gentle, but still holding his wrist. “i missed a week of classes.” his grip slowly loosens, keeping you in your place with his words now, surprisingly. “are y’ gonna be studying all week?” you nod, sukuna cocks his head at the buzzing phone. “do you wanna study together?”

you clear your throat, nodding again, “yeah, sure,” you wet your lips, “just text me.”

sukuna nods, tensing when you pull out your phone, shoko’s messages filling your notifications. sukuna manages to catch the time, gut twisting uncomfortably, vision hazy.

“oh—“ the soft gasp slips your lips, frame going rigid.

his soft breath tickles your neck, face tucked in your nape, kissing your warm skin. his palm presses into the curve of your back, hugging you close to his chest, unable to move. this man is beyond confusing.

cautiously, your fingers brush his nape, swallowing the lump in your throat before speaking.

“i know it’s not my place,” you hesitate, scratching the roots of his hair similar to the way you do after having sex. “like you’ve said before…but uh your step mom…” sukuna stills, lips ghosting over your skin, waiting to hear what you have to say— “um hopefully things work out.”

“it will,” he clips.

you inhale sharply, you really have a big mouth don’t you? “g-good.”

inevitably killing the mood, unbeknown to you, sukuna pulls away, fingers running through his pink locks pushing his sweaty bangs back noticing the crowd beginning to file out of the field behind you. “games over.”

you glance back, spotting shoko walking over with your bag.

“cool…” you clear your throat, forcing a smile, “okay, I’ll see you later, then,” you do your best to kill the awkwardness you’re definitely feeling, before waving him off.

sukuna silently watches you walk away, lidded gaze trailing over your exposed back, down to your ass. he’s a sexual person, but he still finds himself locking his jaw, and looking away. there was too many things going on and the only way it comes out is either with rage or lust.

both bite him in the ass in the end, all he’s doing is postponing your inevitable departure.

wouldn’t be anything new. but he’s gone a pretty decent amount of time without scaring you. everything’s just messing with his head now. he’s not in the right space to control his reactions, if he’s ever been able to control them, which he hasn’t felt confident about for a few years now—

“let’s go,” the sharp voice cuts through his thoughts. duffle bag hitting his chest as toji walks past him. “and you’re apologizing to the team tomorrow.”

sukuna licks his teeth, opting for silence as he follows his coach.

the drive up was anything but silent. toji had his close friend — with just as many shady connections as him — shiu, on speaker.

“like I said, the most I could find were her old addresses, there was about three years where it looks like she was completely out of the country, it’ll take me more time to track exactly what she was doing overseas,” he goes on. “but as for here.”

sukuna’s swiping through his phone, looking at the material shiu could find, “is this it?”

shiu exhales through the mic, “you guys barely gave me a week. do what i told ya’ before. the lawsuit she had filed against her two years ago is enough leverage until i find more, besides she went through a lot of work hiding that shit.”

“the woman’s a fucking weasel, she’ll fuck off with the right threat,” toji adds, turning at another exit. “get back to me when y’find more, thanks.”

sukuna was the least bit convinced though. knee bouncing erratically, palms clammy, “she’s made alotta fuckin’ threats.”

“so we’re doin’ it back,” toji glances briefly at the kid he’s known for well over decade. “key is to act like you have the upper hand. poker face.”

sukuna rubs his jaw, elbow pressed to the window sill. “poker face,” he repeats under his breath, eyes shutting as he controls his breathing the closer they near.

after today it should be over for awhile.

that’s the plan.

he’ll handle the shit when he doesn’t have classes, exams, practice, or the frat. everything will be handled over the summer — they just need to scare her off for three weeks—four if they’re lucky.

“let me do the talking,” toji parks.

sukuna nods, movements slow as he exits the car, grip tightening around the passenger door slamming it shut. blood pumps viciously in his ears. chest hot, clothes sticky.

“kuna. breathe,” toji’s voice is distant, his touch searing as it presses into the athletes shoulder.

all for the lump in his throat to come crawling back up, buckling forward. sukuna sputters, throwing up his protein shake and granola bar as toji lurches back.

“fuck,” sukuna coughs, spitting a few chunks still in his mouth.

toji pats his back, “you’re fine.”

sukuna coughs, acidic taste in his mouth as he stands, wiping his face with his shoulder. toji makes no comment about his bloodshot eyes, or how flushed he looks, instead, he takes the lead, neck cracking as he storms up the steps to the small house, BOUGHT sign still planted on the grass.

it’ll be fine.

the booming knock almost cracks the door with toji’s strength. sukuna’s stomach churning at the wait. heart beating quicker, sweat trickling down his back, sun beating down on them.

“fucking bitch,” he grits under his teeth, fist clenching.

“ryo, I’ll be right back! you did amazing!”

a seventeen year old sukuna slouches back on the benches, deadpanning. sukuna still remembers the sympathetic smile his dad gave him. ruffling his hair affectionately like he’s still twelve.

“take this, grab some food with your friends, I’ll pick you up right after,” his father hands him a fifty dollar bill.

the crowd from the final soccer game of the season leaving the stands, sukuna’s friends waiting a few feet away for him.

nothing changes.

“yeah whatever, have fun,” sukuna spits, standing with his bag, brushing past his father and rejecting the fifty in his palm. “I’ll find my way home after, so don’t bother.”

sukuna catches his friends, not bothering to steal one final glance at his father.

maybe if he’d known that was the last thing he’d ever say to him, he would’ve acted differently.

the door clicks open.

next chapter

a/n: that took awhile but thanks for being patient! there was definitely more plot in this! next chapter will be more heated!! I’ll be overseas again for another week, leaving tomorrow, so the next chapter may or may not come out at the end of the month, I will release a part before the next chapter though!

also…I gave up on the taglist it’s too much work, but u can turn notifications on ao3 I think!

[spideyyeet]

➷ Unspoken Conditions ✦ 2 || Miss Me Already?

[ fratboy!sukuna x f!reader (fwb) ] ✦ ongoing series

[ SERIES SYNOPSIS ] — it was obvious when this started, it was simply a mutual understanding between two horny college students, with very high libidos, and didn’t want any random stds that this was purely a sexual relationship only. and yet, both of you are unintentionally toeing the line between that and something else. ✮

[ TAGS ] — [18+]. MDNI. nsfw. angst. piv. fwb. rough. spitting. pet names. heavy spanking. degradation. dacryphilia. slight exhibitionisim (thin walls). fingering. oral m!recieving. ft. gojo, geto, shoko, utahime. wc: 13.8k

series masterlist ✮ previous chapter ✮ next chapter

the warmth that pressed against you, didn’t leave all night. it was like a heavy, warm, blanket wrapping you in infinite calm, even the gentle breath fanning against your nape had your nerves easing into the soft mattress.

as the sun rose, the warmth that held you all night, disappeared. your lips part, eyes still closed, stirring just a bit, only to curl even more in the bed, hugging the blankets, trying to bring that warmth back. you didn’t move to check, the softness of the mattress too comfortable, and you could still feel the dip of the bed beside you. the heat just a little distant—

“yeah?” a groggy voice rasps out.

you release a soft exhale, faintly hearing the man that kept you warm.

“my phone was dead….” sukuna shifts on the bed, eyes briefly glancing over at you. his hand touches your shoulder, thumb brushing over the deep bite mark he left last night. “if y’ knew she was back, i deserved a fucking warning, man,” his voice rose. the anger from last night bubbling back up.

you stir.

shifting beside him, you turn over. lips part with an exhale, lashes flutter gently, before your blurry vision comes, and you get a glimpse of his broad back flexing as he steps away from the bed, phone pressed to his ear before disappearing into the bathroom.

“ryo…” you mutter under your breath.

another quiet yawn comes out before your eyelids grow heavy and sleep is pulling you back down.

the hours pass by peacefully in your sleep. you’re not woken up until you feel rough palms circling your waist, and a deep hum resounding behind you, lips brushing your shoulder.

“you gonna wake up soon?” his gruff voice has a momentary hum come from your lips. he grunts in response, brushing his lips against your marked skin, rolling you onto your back.

he’s leaning over you, and you can just be satisfied by his natural heat again.

your eyes are still struggling to push the sleep away, but your hand instinctively brushes his nape as he trails soft kisses across the tops of your chest, palm rubbing across your tummy as his lips wrap gently around your nipples, sucking.

a soft exhale escapes your lips. his lashes flutter, eyes shutting. he continues sucking your sensitive buds, squeezing your waist every few seconds.

neither of you utter a word, even as he glides his tongue to your neglected nipple, humming once he wraps his wet lips around it, sucking it softly. your gentle pants grow uneven with the stimulation, nails gently scratching his nape with each suck. tongue playing with bud, lazily.

and it’s just quiet.

you’re not even fully registering anything, until he’s sliding his hand under the blanket. calloused palm cupping your pussy. humming as your heat spreads across his palm, and he dips his fingers into your hole. your wetness collecting easily around his finger, squelching as he goes deeper.

you gasp. hand tightening around his hair, and he’s still suckling your nipples, lazily fingering you as your pants turn into soft moans.

“faster…please,” you whine, needy.

he ignores you.

he keeps the lazy pace he’s been going at. the soft sucking from your nipples has your back arching, cradling his head closer as picks up the pace just by a second more, pumping two lazy fingers in and out.

your lips part feeling the knot tighten up in your core, whining a pitch higher, as he continues his pace, and even when he pulls off just a second, lashes half-lidded and tongue lulling out, his pace doesn’t falter. a lazy glob of spit rolls off his tongue and right on your nipple, and he’s staring for a good minute before locking his lips around the pretty bud again. tongue pushing against your nipple, swirling his tongue languidly around.

“ryo,” you whine again, but he’s still ignoring you.

his greedy lips continue to suck, eyes closed and fingers moving inside your warm hole, curling his fingers against your sweet spot, humming when your hips jump on instinct. and he keeps at that pace until you’re biting back a shaky moan, cradling his head against your tits as you squeeze around his fingers, cumming.

he helps you ride out the small orgasm, lapping your nipple like a lazy cat, until he’s pulling his fingers out. gently rubbing the mess between your legs and cupping it. your thighs closing around it as he continues sucking, practically lost in the action.

and that’s when you notice, he’s wearing clothes.

your brows knit, eyes sweeping over him and the events of last night vividly appear in your mind again. the shouting. the cold warning sukuna shot at you. the mean fucking. the cuddling…the woman—

“where did you go?” you ask, fingers threading through his locks.

he hums, pulling off your nipple, but still licking up your neck.

“you should’ve woken me up if you left,” you mutter, titling your head back when he kisses over the hickies from last night.

“s’ fine, you were sleepin’ the whole time anyways,” he shrugs. sighing once his nose presses against your neck, inhaling your scent.

he doesn’t say anything further. especially when he feels your nails scratch his nape again, and the stress in his shoulders eases up just a bit.

neither of you can wrap your mind around this odd feeling of comfort. sukuna’s mind filled with shit, and yours filled with last night.

he presses himself on top of you, still sitting sideways, nosing your shoulder and neck, arm draped around your waist, hugging you when you decide to break the silence.

“where did you?”

fuck.

his body stiffens.

your met with long awkward silence. before you decide to push a little further, out of curiosity. “did it have to do with last night…and that girl?”

you felt like the bed could swallow you whole any minute. sukuna was stiff as a rock, breath even as he lifts himself off you. the warmth of his body a starch contrast to his cold gaze.

“didn’t i tell you to drop it?”

his dark eyes bore into yours. and you feel just a bit smaller as you glance away and at the window.

“just want’d to know where you went…sue me for wondering,” you mutter, cheeks stinging. he was being oddly defensive. it was just your curiosity.

but he’s still staring at you from the corner of your eye. tongue pocking his cheek, controlling something trying to claw up. “it’s none of your fucking business. i was out. there.”

his emotions seem to go off the rails in a second. fingers dig into your waist waiting for you to argue back. “what?” he pushes further.

“i literally didn’t even say anything,” you mutter, hand coming to his wrist, squeezing it when his grip tightens on your waist. your heart beating a little quicker when he doesn’t loosen it. gaze locked on something else, completely lost in thought, until—

“ryomen,” you squirm.

his dark brow lifts, meeting your concerned expression, and his grip immediately loosens. he swallows thickly, eyes wavering, before his hand comes back, gently caressing your skin.

you exhale, not realizing you’d been holding it in, cautiously glancing over his face, when his phone starts buzzing again.

“fuck,” he mutters, sitting up to dig the phone from his pocket. you watch silently as his eyes flare momentarily at the caller id. “fucking bitch,” he shuts his phone tossing it on the floor and turning back to you, eyes sweeping over you, eyeing your wet nipples, still pebbled up and perky from his nipping earlier. “you can go another round?”

he’s asking, but doesn’t wait, tossing the blanket off your legs, and moving between them. your brows pinch, his mind so obviously distant as he unbuckles his belt, the clanking loud and he unzips his pants. you can’t help the way your heart races, glancing at his phone buzzing again on the floor—

“ignore it,” he snaps.

now stroking his soft cock hanging out of his zipper and boxers, not bothering to take his clothes off as he stares at your pussy, his hand pressing in the inside of your knee, keeping your legs spread.

it was taking a bit of time…

he rubs the half erect cock between your pussy lips, collecting your arousal to stroke his cock alive, but the phone doesn’t stop buzzing. and if there’s one thing that’s more irritating than gojo’s obnoxious voice, it was definitely a phone that won’t stop going off.

“fuck!”

you’re still glancing at it, so curious to know who it is.

“stop looking at it!”

“well it’s distracting,” you mutter, turning to him, eyes deadpan, but then you’re glancing at his dick. “and I’m waiting.”

“fuck,” he grits, head falling back, jaw clenched and eyes screwed shut concentrating as he keeps stroking, desperate to get his cock hard.

the buzzing seems to only get louder the more he tries to focus. and of course you’re still looking at it, and then glancing at sukuna’s face.

and when it goes off for the eighth time, sukuna snaps.

“fucking hell!” he’s storming off the bed, grabbing his phone and walking to his door, you sit up, startled.

you blink. the door swings open, flinching as it crashes into the bedroom wall. sukuna doesn’t even think twice before chucking his phone in the hallway and slamming the door shut.

you can hear geto’s distant ‘what the fuck’, but sukuna just storms back to you pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it. his muscles tense, it was unnerving seeing a man that big and toned, angry. his hand is back on his cock—

“suck it,” he’s standing by the bed, cock still soft and heavy in his palm.

you don’t move. eyes glancing up at him and the anger roaring behind the deep crimson. so you’re careful when you speak.

“don’t fuck my mouth,” you warn. “I’ll bite.”

he grunts, nodding his head.

you wait a second, before turning your body, crawling to the edge of the bed. you hold his beefy thigh over his cargos, pulling him closer, allowing him to put a knee on the mattress. you tuck your hair behind your ear, hand gently replacing his, feeling the thick groomed hairs at his base.

he exhales, watching closely as your glossy lips wrap around his tip, and the immediate shock that shoots through his veins was something he could never explain.

you hum around him. cheeks stinging, because it was a foreign feeling sucking his completely flaccid cock. you feel yourself clench when he starts getting hard in your mouth, the weight on your tongue electing a moan from the back of your throat.

“good girl,” he sighs, cock stirring just from the few sucks you’re doing. his hand flexing, before brushing your hair, keeping his hand atop your head, eyes locked on your movements.

your tongue caresses the bulging veins that bulge around his cock. your hand playing with his pubes, thumb scratching through the coarse hairs, and occasionally sliding down to hold his heavy balls, his body jerking at the touch getting him hard in seconds.

you whine again when you taste start to taste his pre cum oozing on your tongue now, and he instinctively jerks his hips, shoving his cock deeper.

you gag, nails digging into his pants.

“shit—“ he hisses, groaning once you pull off him. your tongue hangs out as you stare at the heavy cock twitching between his legs, tongue pressing on his tip teasingly tasting the beaded cum.

“I’m pretty good,” you gloat.

“yeah, a natural slut,” he tsks, hand coming under your chin, holding your face as he strokes his now very hard cock in front of you. “gimme another kiss,” his tongue strokes his bottom lip watching you lean forward, glossy lips making contact with his dark tip. suckling on it like a pacifier, gaze slowly meeting his through your lashes and he’s craning his head to the side, groaning.

“y’ ever wonder how ya’ look sucking dick?” he asks, and you pull off, lapping the tip so adorably, it’s obvious you’re being cute on purpose now.

“I can’t say that I want to know,” you glance over his face, curious glint in your eye.

his stomach twists, holding his base and keeping your jaw in his hand, before rubbing his tip along your lips, painting them in his pre cum, heavy cock filling his palm. “it’s weird how hot you are.”

you snort, lashes fluttering up at him. “it’s jus’ cus you’re rubbing your dick all over my face,” you mutter, gaze trying to study the distant look in his eyes. seconds ago he was ready to smash his door, and probably you, if you pushed him some more, and now he’s purposely distracting himself from god knows what.

“true,” he tsks, humming when you press your cheek against his pulsing warm cock, tongue taking a lick. his hips shift, spreading further apart hand cupping your soft cheek, unable to look away from this. “girls….” he stops, correcting himself without fully needing to think about it. “you’re just really cute right now.”

you try not to laugh.

he was acting crazy.

especially when he pulls his cock off your face, and leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss unbothered by his own cum that he smeared all over your lips. his rough palm is holding your neck, not squeezing. “y’r gonna let me fuck you good, right?”

the whine that slips your lips was all he needed to flip you on your tummy, pulling your hips back, “ass up, c’mon lemme see that pussy,” he groans when you listen, on your hands and knees right on the edge of his bed. “good girl, spread your legs more, yeah—“ he presses his hand on the dimple of your back, low rumble slipping past his lips as you fall into a deep arch, dripping pussy spreading open for his greedy eyes.

“fuck—y’r so lucky I’m taking this pussy, instead of punching a fucking pledge,” drool collects on his lips at the sight of your slick syrup coating your folds, adorable little hole squeezing around nothing just for more clear juices to trickle out.

though, you can feel your pussy pulse at his words, you can’t miss the slight edge in his tone. especially with the last one almost sounding like a threat.

“ryo, condom.”

there’s a slight shift in the air.

his hand that once stroked your ass, froze— fingers digging into the flesh.

you glance over your shoulder, lips opening to call his name again—

“it’s been a few weeks,” he mutters under his breath, frustrations growing as he reaches into the drawer digging for a condom. “whatever— jus’ wanna feel this pussy hug me without this piece of shit thing on me—“ and the curses just fly out of his mouth like a sailor.

you’re still resting back letting him curse his head off, a little more heated due to his attitude, until he’s sliding the condom on like a kid throwing a tantrum, and it was routine. but a part of you did notice how your shoulders eased once he listened.

his hands come up, already holding his base and rubbing his tip through your folds, his head craning back, muscles tense, thoughts plaguing his mind, his gramps texts, the calls—

“angh!” your loud cry pierced the air, body falling forward as he slammed his cock in without warning.

he couldn’t silence his thoughts.

the spiraling plagued his vision again, and this girl, taking him so well—“you’re so good,” he grunts, loud and animalistic—foot planting on the bed, and hitting your cervix with each thrust.

“ryo—slow down—“ you weren’t expecting him to go that hard so early in the morning, especially when he fingered you so calmly earlier.

your nails dig into the sheets, biceps flexing as you lean into each thrust, whining when keeps a firm hand pressed on your lower back, preventing any movement outside of your deep arch.

it’s worse when you start to feel your mind go numb, allowing his thrusts to push you over the edge. “fuck y’r so mean—always cumming before me,” he groans, bracing himself behind you as your pussy spasms around him, locking him so tight he can barely move.

“s’ good—“ you babble, cheek pressed against the sheets, still griping onto them when sukuna picks up his brutal pace. the loud claps fill the air as he cracks a hand down on your ass.

“mm y’ tighten up whenever you get spanked,” he cracks a hand again, and you whimper, pussy clenching up again. “haha jus’ like that.”

“mmh, fuck—yeah, i like it,” you whine, cheeks flushed and dumb.

“you like it?” he laughs, biting his lips as he stares down at you, then your pussy sucking him back in every time he pulls out. the frothy white ring pushing him to thrust harder.

hands gripping your hips, and letting the pleasure take him over.

and it could be because he’s on edge, or that you wouldn’t quit asking him questions. but maybe that’s why he’s holding your hands, eyes dark as he watches your wet lashes kiss your dewy cheeks, glossy lips agape, babbling off something stupid, and he’s just lost in the way your pussy relentlessly holds him in your warm insides, that he desperately wants to cum in. and he’s thankful for you.

thankful that you were still in his bed when he got back. that your soft skin was still warm when he ran his calloused palm against it. that your lips would still part and sigh his name in that stupidly sweet tone of yours when you’re waking up. and even more so, that you’re able to distract him with all this, so he doesn’t have to think about the headache of his life.

“r-ryo.”

ya that voice, his breath is uneven. and it’s not until you shift under him, is he blinking. his head was pressed against your shoulder. practically bent on top of you, not realizing he’d already came.

“pull out,” you wiggle underneath him, hand coming free from his grasp, and gently pushing his hip away so you can slide him out.

his face scrunches, hiss coming out when his cock is freed, stupid condom practically slipping off, filled to the brim with his cum. “you leaving?”

he watches you get up, eyeing the way your legs tremble and your hand brushes lightly over your waist. you glance over at him. he’s still reclined on the edge of the bed, jeans low and cock still hanging free, soft and drenched in you, and he looks exhausted.

“i was gonna use the bathroom fir—“

“jesus fucking christ man, i just turned your phone off because it wouldn’t stop, but then coach started calling me shouting, so can y’ answer your fucking phone!” geto shouts from behind the door.

you immediately catch the flash of anger that crosses sukuna’s face, breath stilling as you watch him fall back on his bed, palms pressing into his eyes.

the click of the door, isn’t easily missed by the man, sitting up to see you cracking the door, keeping him out of sight as you babble on. his tshirt is lazily thrown over you, just long enough to cover anything important, but your ass practically hangs out from the back from where he’s sitting—

“I’ll take it. he’s cleaning up,” your words go straight to his nerves as the door clicks shut and you’re holding his phone in your hand, turning back to see him glaring at you. you remain silent, an odd feeling twisting when you see his lockscreen, a bunch of missed calls from an unsaved number, along with a few recent missed calls from his coach, and texts from his gramps—

you continue looking at the locked messages going up, until you reach the bed. mattress dipping under your weight as you sit beside him.

you gently place the phone on his sweaty stomach.

then, you meet his glare.

“don’t open the fucking door to them.”

you’re unsure how you’re able to remain calm, it could be because his hostility is wavering, especially when you rub your palm against his chest. a soft exhale escaping from your glossy lips in tired annoyance.

“the way you’re acting is…” your words cut off, mind scrambling to find the right way to say how you’re feeling. and the pause only serves to tick the man off more. sitting up, only to get up in your face.

“is what?” he narrows, scoff coming out only to rub his eyes again.

“you didn’t even let me finish,” you sigh in mild annoyance. clearly that was enough to get him to stand up, sheading the rest of his clothes as he walks to the bathroom. “ryo—“

“i needa shower, i have shit to do,” the door slams behind him, shaking the room, and marking the end to the not so helpful conversation.

you’re left dumbfounded. completely at a loss, especially since he’d left his phone on the bed, and once you heard the shower turn on, it definitely marked your cue to leave. tension twisting in your chest as you get dressed, glancing at the buzzing phone again, worry boiling up, but what can you do?

—

“you know, it sounds like an ex or something, I wouldn’t be surprised,” utahime rambles. you hadn’t heard back from sukuna that whole weekend, so it slipped out when you were eating lunch with shoko and utahime between your classes about the argument you saw sukuna having.

“satoru mentioned that some of the guys get a lot of stalkers from their one night stands,” shoko adds, sipping her drink.

your chin rests on your hand, thinking, “his coach was calling too though, which makes it weirder?”

“coach toji?” shoko asks.

you hum, observing as shoko thinks some more. utahime leans in, invested in the theories, especially when shoko keeps humming as if piecing the entire thing together—

“toji was in jail for a bit.”

utahime’s head falls forward, and you sigh, “how is that relevant at all??”

shoko shrugs, reaching over for your fry. you frown some more as she takes a bite, and she raises a brow at you, leaning back in her seat crossing her arms. “why do you even care?”

you blink.

then you glance away.

then you bite your cheek.

“well he was acting different last time we were together,” you attempt to be subtle. but utahime, now jumping on shoko’s question, quirks out a funny expression.

“so?” she pushes teasingly.

the feeling is twisting at you again, but for a different reason entirely, one that’s making your cheeks heat up with guilty embarrassment, and your manicured nail scratching the table. “so…” you bite your cheek, preparing yourself to voice your selfish guilt out loud…

“so…i don’t wanna be the one texting him to have…..sex, knowing he’s going through something right now…” your cheek is numb from how hard you’re biting it, before finally glancing up at your friends. “isn’t that really insensitive?”

utahime and shoko are dumbfounded.

your cheeks heat up even more at their silence, glancing between them frantically until—

utahime breaks into a loud laugh.

your eyes widen, heart hammering because now people at other tables are looking over as utahime and shoko laugh their asses off and you’re holding your cheeks with hot embarrassment.

“guyssss it’s not funny!” you huff, trying not to smile because they’re still laughing. utahime holding the table for balance, as she leans over laughing.

“it’s funny,” shoko snickers and utahime is catching her breath.

“you’re insane,” she manages to heave out. “of all the things, that’s the reason why you’re thinking about it.”

you blush. “is that mean?” now you know for sure you’re a complete asshole.

“no,” utahime shakes her head, settling back in and actually digesting what you’d just admitted, taking a sip from her iced latte. “i mean did you guys have any rules or anything for this circumstance?”

you lean your cheek on your palm, thinking. “well he brought up a condition where he can ask for sex if he’s stressed and it’s like a weeknight or something.”

“that’s weird,” shoko cringes.

you fix yourself, “well I’m not saying it correctly, i forgot how he said it, but he was saying it’s not forcing you, but more like if you’re free then why can’t we do it…i think?”

the table is silent. your lips purse in slight annoyance as you watch utahime and shoko process this. “that doesn’t—“

“well it doesn’t make sense if i have to explain it. this isn’t a very ideal situation in relationship like this. so if i have to like, elaborate, then obviously it gets confusing,” you huff, leaning back in your seat, crossing your arms in exasperation.

“yeah,” utahime hums, and shoko shrugs in agreement. but their responses don’t help your predicament.

“so?” you push, desperate for your friends advice. “I don’t wanna be an asshole, you know.”

“and you haven’t texted him at all?”

you shake your head. “he skipped lab yesterday so i just sent him my notes and he liked it.”

utahime thinks some more.

“maybe wait until next lab, and if he skips it again, it wouldn’t hurt to also ask how he’s doing and if he needs a lil something to um… destress,” utahime says, and shoko laughs at her wording and you clasp your hands, humming.

“wait, why is that actually perfect!” you gush, and utahime smiles proudly, shrugging it off like it’s nothing.

now of course, most people would take their friends advice. and you’re no different, especially if said advice came from your very empathic and relationship expert friend, utahime.

but what made it difficult, however, is that you’re completely clueless when it comes to reading people on text. especially if it’s coming from someone like sukuna—

lab partner: im fine u need something?

your lips purse, biting your cheek as you reread your own text, sent twenty minutes ago.

you: hey! missed u at lab again, is everything okay?

you groan, glancing around the lecture hall when you feel some eyes glancing back at you. cringing, you shrink just a bit before looking back at your phone. fingers hovering over the keyboard, thinking…thinking…

fuck!

you: no, nothing. just wanted to check in. and lmk if u need me to send drop off the lab notes

you quickly edit the text, and replace send with drop off. heart hammering as you wait for the text bubbles to pop up.

lab partner: y can’t u just send a pic?

you: it’s easier to hand it over since it was a lil confusing and my notes are a mess so i can just explain it in person when i give it

the lecture you’re currently in seems to fade into the background as your eyes nearly pop waiting for sukuna to reply. if he asked for it now, would you leave class? no. you’re not that desperate for dick, right? but then again…it’s not any dick…it’s his—

lab partner: k

…seriously. you slump in your seat, annoyance tickling your skin, eyes narrowing at his dry ass reply.

you: lmk when

you: i finish class in 40

the worst part about texting is when you don’t receive an immediate reply back after you’ve been going back and forth seconds ago. and that’s exactly what happened here, you stared at your phone the entire lecture, but alas, you received no reply back. not until later that night.

you were back at your apartment, reading a mandatory book for class, snuggled up on your little couch, when you heard your phone ping.

your lips purse, reaching for your phone on the coffee table.

lab partner: u free now?

it was embarrassing. the way your book fell forgotten on your lap and you were sitting up checking the time and calculating the train and bus times to see which one would be fastest to get to his frat. it was nearing 10 at night, which meant buses would be running a little slower—

lab partner: how far do u live again?

oh.

you: it’s fine I suggested handing it over so I don’t mind coming

his text comes immediately after.

lab partner: address?

you glance around your small little one bedroom apartment, if you can even call it that—you basically took the door off its hinges because it was taking too much space, instead replacing it with a cute beaded curtain. but he’s never been over. at least when this started a month ago, you were always the one to go to his place, and it was closer to campus.

but you weren’t going to argue, especially now. so instead you quickly type your address sending it, and receiving a hearted message as a reply.

your cheeks already begin to sting. he was coming over for the notes, and an explanation of the lab. that’s it.

however, it doesn’t stop you from shedding your plain, but very comfortable pajama pants and sweater, and opting to slip on your thin boy shorts that practically ride up so high, your ass is hanging out. along with your tight tank top, with very low cleavage and thin straps.

it wasn’t wrong of you to remind him you’re always here to relive his stress. whether it’s from school, or whatever is happening in his life right now.

you go back to curling up on your couch, waiting for sukuna to buzz in. your fuzzy socks press under your blanket as you keep your soft cardigan over your shoulders, picking your book back up.

it doesn’t matter how tired you get with each passing minute. you’re reluctant to let your eyes close for a second. distracting yourself with another cup of tea, reading another chapter, checking tiktok—

knock knock knock

your lips part, startled as you sit up. glancing at the door. it wasn’t sukuna, you’d have to buzz him in first—

“hey, you better not be sleeping.”

it’s definitely because you haven’t seen him in awhile, so you ignore the way your cheeks heat up just from hearing his deep husky voice behind the door. legs kicking off the blanket and sliding across the small expanse of your apartment to reach the front door. peaking through the peephole, just in case.

the small clicks of the two locks alerts the man, gaze flicking up from his phone to see you opening the door.

“how’d you get up?” your question allows him to stroll in, toeing off his shoes as he answers, voice husky and laced with the events of his supposed long day.

“got in after someone,” he slips his phone into his pocket, waiting by the door.

“oh.”

….why is this so awkward?

you swallow, drying your throat. you keep your cardigan close, clearing your throat as you pass by him, leading him further into the small apartment. “don’t mind the mess,” you push your blanket to the side before sitting on the ground at the coffee table, aka your desk. the lab report, along with your lecture notes laid across it. “i didn’t mean to inconvenience you, but i was kinda confused during lab…so i just thought it’d be easier to explain this mess,” you laugh lightly.

eyes flicking up briefly, catching sukuna still strolling behind you. his eyes scanning the walls, and various lamps and knickknacks that are around the space,.

it was a cheap place.

“you live pretty far,” he mutters.

your lips purse, adjusting yourself. “not really, it’s just a twenty-five minute train ride.”

he hums, shrugging off his jacket, glancing over the tv and the cute little ornaments you have beside it. “and then another fifteen minute walk from the station,” he adds, lowly.

your brow quirks, slightly bothered. “i could’ve came over instead—“

“that’s not what i was saying,” his eyes snap to you, immediately shutting you up. and you hate the curl in your stomach meeting those unreadable crimson eyes. they really looked like dark blooded ruby’s. hands slightly clammy when he sits in front of you. the eye contact doesn’t break, something unspoken lingering between the gaps of what he’d just said. but you manage to look away, sitting on your knees to lean over the table and thumb through the lab report.

“anyways,” you exhale, taking a deep breath to calm the hammering in your chest. “today was kinda a continuation of monday’s lab, which took forever to get through—“ you start babbling. pencil in hand to circle and underline your own notes, referencing some of the lecture notes you took as well.

you weren’t lying about how difficult the lab was. but you also seemed to ignore the fact that sukuna is just a little smarter than you, at least when it came to science and math.

so every explanation you gave, was easily digested by the man, that his focus began to drift over you. gaze soaking up the bare skin you were flaunting. your soft cardigan slipping off your shoulder as you played with your socks, your other hand still underlining some notes as you spoke.

his cheek lazily rested on his palm. shamelessly staring at your cleavage, your tits practically straining against the tight top, showcasing your healed skin from his bites and bruises last time you were together. his memory practically exposing you for remembering you telling him how much you hate tight shirts when you’re sleeping.

his tongue wets his lower lip. eyes flicking back over to your face when you cleared your dry throat, talking too much.

“do you want some tea?” you ask, clearing your throat again as you stand, grabbing your empty mug to refill.

his gaze only grows darker, trailing up your bare legs, chest hot as he sees the way the shorts hug your pussy lips. she’s definitely not wearing any panties.

“sure.”

you weren’t oblivious. at least, not when it came to sukuna’s attraction towards you. especially towards your ass. so of course you ditched the cardigan when you stood, allowing him to see the way your shorts have ridden up, ass spilling out as you walked to the kitchen, swaying your hips just enough to be subtle.

so when you came back to the table, placing his mug in front of him, leaning down as you sat, just so he can look down your top. you weren’t surprised to see his darkened lids, practically fucking you with his gaze.

but you were not going to make the first move.

especially when he’s so fucking silent, grabbing his mug to take a sip.

he should’ve asked for iced cold water, especially when he feels his cock start to chub up against his thigh. chest tight when you take a sip from your own tea, going back to explaining the lab.

you’re unbelievable.

“come sit ‘ere.”

your eyes flick up from your notes, meeting his low gaze. his hand patting the spot beside him. you control your smile, not even questioning him, which definitely gave you away, but you rounded the little coffee table, kneeling down beside him, and going back to explaining.

so eventually, when his arm drifts around your waist, firm hand squeezing and feeling the bare skin of your torso, you don’t protest. or when he pulls you closer, face pressing into your neck, shameless as he inhales your flowery body wash, and groaning as it fills his brain, you just hum.

“you’re funny,” he mumbles against your skin. kissing your neck, gentle and lazy, slowly warming himself up to your body again after being apart.

his free hand comes to pull you closer, drifting up your ribs, thumbing the underside of your tits. sitting on one of his thighs that he’d subtle slipped between your legs as he continues inhaling your scent,

“how?” you hum, nails scratching his nape. sighing so gently, anyone would think you’re the innocent one. his knuckles manage to push your thin top up, breasts spilling out as his rough hand cups the soft flesh. kneading it in his palm.

“walking around with no clothes, shaking your ass and tits,” he licks your ear, making you squirm. other hand sliding down, cupping your ass, fingers digging into the flesh slipping under the hem of your shorts to pull your ass apart. “if you wanted dick, y’ could’ve jus’ asked nicely.”

your lips part in cute little sighs, whining when he pinches your nipple, twisting the sensitive pebble.

“I didn’t….” you whine again, pussy clenching as he kisses your cheek. trailing them to the corner of your glossy lips. eyes hazy as you try to keep them open.

he snorts, low and degrading. “you’re practically cock drunk, and I’ve barely touched ya’—tell me y’ didn’t call me all the way here to be fucked?”

your cheeks sting, heart skipping a beat because it’s not that obvious. “i’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to y’rself,” you mutter, confidently. “I’m just wearing my pajamas. in my apartment. alone.”

“but y’r not alone,” he licks your lips, thumb pressing against your nipple, nail scratching it making you squirm. “i was coming…”

you try to control your whines, the sound so pathetic, when he hasn’t even slipped a hand in your shorts yet. “i just wanted to help you,” your excuses become dumber the longer he toys with you. especially when he’s got you straddling one thigh, muscles flexing under his pants, kissing your lips in pecks, dragging you closer to desperation.

“help me?” he laughs, kissing your lips again, hand sliding higher up your ass, shorts pushing up and riding them tighter against your pussy, whining at the friction. “with the lab or with this body? hm?”

you’re annoyed. nails digging into his bicep as he continues teasing you. canines peaking as he watches your flushed cheeks, eyes narrowing down at him as you lean forward.

“with lab—ah!” you cry out, his hand cracking down on your ass in surprise.

“don’t fucking lie,” he snaps.

your head falls forward, pressing against his shoulder, heart hammering and body on fire. “I’m not—angh!”

another rough spank lands on the same cheek, the stinging of the flesh already has your pussy leaking with need, burning.

“what’d i fuckin’ say?” he husks, turning his lips to press against your ear. “I want you to admit it.”

you squirm, his hand squeezing your ass, rubbing the stinging flesh getting ready to lay another mean spank. “admit what?”

he groans, the gravel deep in his chest sending butterflies straight to your pussy, whining at the sound, it was pathetic. “tell me y’ called me here to get fucked.”

fuck hime, this is so embarrassing! you scream internally. especially when he cracks a harder spank, your body hitting his chest, squirming at the sting as you cry into his shoulder. fingers grasping his shirt in pleasurable pain. and the longer you go without answering him, the harder his spanks get.

your pussy is dripping.

the stinging making your mind fuzzy.

his large palm making the spanks harsher—

“ah…! —ryo…please…” this is probably number eight or ten?

your ass is on fire, it feels like he could’ve broken skin especially with his rings.

your body is trembling against his chest, breathless, arms around his shoulders, face pressed to his neck, and cheeks damp with tears.

and still, he’s rubbing the flesh of your ass for a second before raising his hand again, not bothering to give you a break, even when you feel his cock so hard and straining against his pants. “you know what to say.” crack!

you choke, body tensing, arms tight around him as you shake uncontrollably. his hands squeeze your ass, before cracking another spank on the opposite cheek. you’re so close to sobbing, choking it back, but tears freely run down your cheeks as you try to hug him tighter. his broad shoulders perfect to clutch desperately onto, until you feel another violent spank, his rings seem to dig harder, making you cry out.

“aww, you’re fuckin’ shaking,” he coos, hand coming to pat your head. you flinch. “your shorts are soaked, too.” he laughs, thigh flexing underneath you, the stain you caused soaking through your shorts and creating a wet spot on his pants.

“you’re fucking….” you’re completely out of breath. whining even though he hasn’t spanked you yet, the stinging unbearable, but your can feel your pussy pulsing in need—

“I’m fucking what?” he digs his fingers into your ass, pulling your cheeks apart as if your shorts couldn’t ride hider. you can hear his smile without needing to see it.

you’re spent, nails digging into his shoulders—“ah!—“ your tears spill, after the thousandth spank, your body is quivering and you finally push away from him.

you miss the way his eyes briefly widen. your adorable face was covered in tears, eyes rimmed and still full of unshed tears ready to spill any seconds, lips glossy with drool— “give—give me a second,” you pant, sitting back on his thigh, head falling forward, arms trembling as they hold onto his shoulder.

in all the times before, the spanking only happened during sex. so seeing you this fucked out, in full tears, just from a couple slaps, had the man brimming with need. his cock painfully twitching in his pants as he watches you catch your breath.

“how many seconds?” he pushes, hands easily sliding up, thumbing the thin straps of your tank top off your shoulder, only to push the material off. exhausted and trembling, you easily follow his hands hoisting it over your arms and tossing it aside, leaving you topless.

his palms come back to your face, tilting your head back to meet his gaze.

“just tell me the truth,” his voice is stern. dark orbs boring into yours. your glossy lips part, salvia creating cute strings before breaking. “cmon.”

your glazed vision only amplifies how fucking adorable you look right now. under the warm lighting of your lamps, and the shadows that highlight your features. he seriously couldn’t help the way his thumb strokes the apples of your cheeks, cooing internally when your lips formed a cute pouts, eyes like fragile glass.

“I just wanted to help,” you mumble, truthfully. but you catch the way his expression goes cold. his eyes deadpan. hands leaving your cheeks and falling on your waist— “don’t!—“ you cry, but it’s too late, he’s pulling you back to his chest, your body arching forward instinctively, he holds your ass, the other raising high before cracking down on your ass.

your loud cry was brutal, cutting through the air. hands clamming at his shirt, pushing him back.

“w-wait—“

“tell me!”

you’re sniffling, composing yourself, desperately trying to ignore the way your ass feels like it’s bleeding. cheeks throbbing in pain.

“i did wanna have sex,” you swallow, chest heaving, his eyes briefly fall down to watch the way your cute pebbled nipples graze his shirt with each shaky breath. “but,” you lick your lips, “I didn’t wanna bother you.”

his brows pinch, expression shifting. “what do you mean?”

your hand gently brushes the tattoos that peak out of his collar. “you were preoccupied last time, and I didn’t wanna bother you, especially since you seemed wound up, and everything was setting you off.” your gaze flicks between his. “so obviously I didn’t wanna be insensitive and just text you so we can fuck.”

his expression twists into more annoyed confusion. “that’s literally the only reason we see each other.”

your head falls forward, men are so stupid. “I know, but like…”

“then I’m not getting it,” he huffs.

“clearly,” you glance back up, expression deadpanned. “I was trying to be nice. I didn’t know if you even wanted to have sex because you seemed busy with whatever was going on with you. and I’m not trying to be mean when I say that, I was just tryna’ be sensitive.”

“do i look like a fucking sensitive person to you?” the edge in his tone easily rub off the wrong way.

rolling your eyes, glaring at him, “no. but I was trying to be nice.”

“I’m not a fuckin’ bitch, y’ shoulda just texted me and I would’ve told you if I was fucking free or not. you’re the one assuming shit—“

“I wasn’t assuming! you skipped lab twice this week and you slammed the door in my face last time we were together. obviously I’m not an idiot and can see you were busy, I wasn’t gonna be needy and add to it!” you huff, chest heaving once again at the sudden heated exchange.

he scoffs, “so y’ didn’t text me because I slammed a door in your face?”

“oh my god!” your head falls back, hands slapping your face in exasperation.

sukuna scoffs even louder rolling his eyes. “i don’t know why the fuck y’r moaning and groaning. if you wanted to fuck, just say it straight up next time.”

“fine,” you huff. meeting his glare with your own.

his tongue licks over his teeth in irritation. still having the gaul to let his eyes drop, checking you out again, glancing back at your face twisted in annoyance. you don’t miss the way his canines peak, smirk tugging on his lips.

“so instead you called me here to seduce me?”

fuck. why was it so easy for him to be sexy?! especially when he uses that deep husky bedroom voice of his.

your cheeks burn, glancing away still trying to prove how annoyed you are. but his calloused palms are grabbing your hips again, this time thumbing the waistband of your shorts, pulling the elastic to hear it snap back, earning a cute flinch and grind from you.

“like i said…these are just my pajamas. you’re just a perv for sexualizing everything,” you stick to this lie. no matter how obvious it is now.

his lips curl into a smirk, leaning closer to your face, playing along. “you’re so sweet, giving me my space until your pussy gets too wet and needy, you couldn’t help but text me some lame ass reason for me to come over, right?”

“well i offered to come over first,” you huff, squirming once his hand came back to your breast, squeezing.

“your pride too much, y’ couldn’t just tell me y’r pussy felt empty?”

you turn your face, cheeks hot as he trails mean wet kisses along your jaw. licking your skin obscenely.

“so much for being sensitive, i guess there’s a time limit to it…how many days has it been?saturday…sunday—“ he whistles, “almost six days, but today’s thursday,” he laughs, “you couldn’t even go a full week without my dick?” his degrading laugh goes straight to your core, chest hot, feeling your skin melting every time he speaks.

this is so humiliating.

his hands slide down your hips, squeezing the flesh just to watch you squirm, rocking you on his thigh.

“i can feel your juices on my thigh, so just tell me you were tryna’ seduce me, so i can take a look at this pussy. isn’t that why y’called?” he eggs you on, lips kissing your ear again, muttering even deeper, smiling as you squirm. “c’mon, I haven’t seen you in a bit, just tell me.”

you stomach twists in butterflies, lips parting as your hands come back around his shoulders, hugging his warm body.

“seducing sounds too vulgar, I’m just an innocent girl,” you tease lightly, cheeks flushed, smiling when you hear his boisterous laugh.

“innocent girl!” he repeats louder, pulling from your neck to meet your gaze. “you’re funny.”

“thanks,” you smile, hoping he drops it now. but instead you’re being manhandled off his thigh, and between his legs, his hands trailing across your tummy as he kisses your neck.

“i did have a long week,” he admits between kisses, shoving his slutty torso between your legs, holding your thigh to wrap around him. “missed my classes,” he licks up your neck, your head tips back, “missed practice,” he continues, wrapping a firm arm around your waist, “so maybe i want you to admit that you missed y’r pussy being filled.” he continues kissing your neck, panting as he rocks his hard bulge against your shorts. grinding roughly.

“jus’ fuck me,” you whimper, fingers carding through his pink locks. scratching his scalp in need.

he groans, face pressing into your neck, squeezing your thigh roughly.

“no.”

you whine. the man continues humping between your legs, like a dog in heat. desperate for his own friction, but controlling himself. “i want you to say it. say you missed me. say you missed getting fucked.”

your hips buck, whining everytime his bulge rubs against the material of your shorts, your clit puffy and swollen as your pussy clenches around nothing, whining once he starts chasing his own greedy desires.

“ryo, pleasee,” you beg, pants light and airy as you choke on a close orgasm.

“jus’ say it, brat,” he husks in your ear, his face buried in your shoulder, keeping you from seeing the pathetic flush in his cheeks. but the desperation practically drips from his voice, making you whine louder.

you want it. so fucking badly. the image of his cock filling your brain. his musk flowing directly into your nose as you inhale each breath. you want him bad, you’re practically trembling. fingers hot as they tug his shirt, other pulling at his roots, whining when a vicious grind of his hips has your thighs clenching around his toned hips, cumming in seconds.

how can someone be so desperate after a week apart?

but here you are, panting in his ear as he keeps humping his chubby bulge directly against your soaked shorts, grunting curses in your ear, not realizing that you’d just came.

“let me make y’ feel good,” he husks, his voice getting raspier, “m’ so fucking hard righ’ now, mmh—jus’ wanna slip inside ya’, haah—fu-ck— wanna feel this pussy squeeze me tight.”

your cheeks are aflame. body hot as his weight pressed on top of you, forearm pushed against the carpeted floor of your living room as the other dug into your thigh keeping you open to rut his hips viciously against your mound.

there was only so much self control you could have. your mind is fuzzy, lips glossy as you turn your lips to his temple, hovering over his skin, panting beside his ear. your nails dig into his scalp, holding his locks tight as you whine after another roll of his hips. stomach twisting with need.

“okay—haah i-i missed you—“ your voice breaks into another whine when he ruts again, grinding into you, the crotch of his pants soaked because of you. “missed your cock filling me up,” the words slip past your lips, mind not even bothering to register how embarrassing it sounds, the desperation suffocating.

“felt so empty without you…pl-please ryo.”

the man’s response was immediate. pressing his face deeper into your neck, groaning low and feral, one strong arm locks around your waist, lifting you against his chest, while the other pushes off the ground in one quick move.

you gasp, blinking, in seconds sukuna was on his feet, with you in his arms. your legs are locked around his torso, arms hugging his shoulders as he keeps one arm under your ass holding you up easily. your cheeks sting. he’s really strong.

your lips connect to his jaw, pressing messy kisses along the column of his throat as he walks the four steps to get to your bedroom, free hand shoving the few plushies on your bed to the ground before laying you down. he grabs your jaw, kissing you roughly.

his throat is gravely, humming when you tug his hair, whining once he pulls away, hands rubbing the outside of your thighs as he kneels beside the bed. his hands making quick work on his belt, you bite your lip, gawking at the wet stain on his crotch, shoving it half way down his thighs, black ink bands wrapped around each beefy thigh—

“fuckk,” he buckles over, hand wrapping around your ankle on instinct— you’d pressed your foot against his bulge, his abs clenching, heel digging against his tent, groaning as you put more pressure.

your cheeks sting, lips curling softly at the desperation leaking through his pores like sweat, making you less insecure about admitting to your own minutes ago.

his eyes shut, jaw slack as he presses your ankle closer, groaning pathetically when you dig your heel harder, his hips rut on instinct.

shit. the air is thick, your pupils dilate as sukuna bites another moan-like-groan as he continues rubbing his clothed boner against your foot.

“you like that?” you coo, cheeks hot and pink, pressing another mean shove against his cock making him buckle over again, choking on a moan, heat crawling up his neck, stinging his ears.

“fh-uck, yeah,” his sharp jaw’s slack, your eyes wide seeing the wet patch grow darker. “feels good,” he mutters, still rocking himself against your foot, crimson orbs dark. “y’r so fucking dead, woma—ngh,” his groan rips through the air, flooding your body with heat as you feel the wetness against your foot.

you blink, eyeing his still form.

“shit,” he swears, sitting straighter, pulling the fabric of his shirt over his head revealing the intricate tattoos that paint his chest. “made me fuckin’ cum,” he swears again, cheeks hot, but unashamed. you blush at the admission, trying not to smile, as your other foot comes to rub along the ridges of his abs, manicured nails playing with your glossy lips, drooling at the sight of the huge man. his scent already filling your senses once he lifts your foot, letting it drop back on the bed so he can push the rest of his pants off.

your heated gaze tracks over his dark happy trail, pulling at your bottom lip as you watch him shove his boxers down, his heavy wet cock coming into view,

“you’re staring,” he finally mutters, voice much huskier than before. his own chest flushed, and even more turned on when he watches the drool pool out of your mouth.

“I’m jus’ soaking it in,” you shift on the bed, free hand cupping your breast, pinching your nipples as you keep staring.

his pupils dilate, rubbing your calf that rests on his pec again, hand squeezing the base of his flushed cock, watching white liquid pearls bead out of his chubby dark tip, sliding down the veins of his cock. he could definitely cum right now. the sight of you sprawled on your cute bed, thighs already soaked from your shorts.

“you’ve gotten better at actin’ like a fucking tease,” he rasps, pressing a hand against your tummy, rubbing the soft flesh as he kisses the tops of your breasts, sucking dark bruises.

“m’ not,” you protest lightly, nails scratching his nape.

“yeah, well most sluts start realizing it when they get more ‘nd more desperate for cock,” he husks. fingers dipping into the waistband of your shorts, yanking them off.

your gasp is accompanied by a shiver, legs pushed apart, pussy kissing the cool air making you whine.

wait—

your cheeks flood with bright red, brain short-circuiting—he wouldn’t —your lips part in anticipation, time halting, because in milliseconds of pulling your drenched shorts off, the brute man was inching it to his face, jaw slacking when he gets the first whiff.

“don’t…” you barely manage to squeak out. face hot, eyes bulging when he presses the shorts to his face, inhaling. “ryo!” you cry in loud embarrassment, leaning up to claw at his bulging bicep, tugging the shorts from his grasp and tossing it across the room. your chest heaving, face hot with shame.

he blinks in momentary shock, until his lip curl, eyes falling down to you. “what’s the problem?”

you flinch.

averting your gaze, unable to control yourself. “you can’t do that. it’s one of the conditions,” you huff, breath ragged,

sukuna tilts his head back in mild annoyance, scoffing. “sniffing your shorts is a condition now?”

“yes.”

his bites down on his jaw, pushing your legs open, calloused palm cupping your pussy as he bends over you. “what about y’r pussy? i always smell ya’ when im down there.”

huh?

red hot steam comes from your ears, brain affirmatively going numb.

“s’ that off limits too? can’t rub my face between your legs anymore, tongue your tight hole as i breathe you in? hmm?” his words felt like direct twists in your pussy, you squirm underneath him, his fingers dipping into your tight entrance feeling you immediately clench around him. “well?” his face was pressed to your temple, breath hot.

“why’re you tryna embarrass me all night?” you squeak, pouting as your hips buck, two fingers plunging inside your pussy, the immediate squelching adding fuel to the flames.

he snorts, “I just want some clarification ‘s all, I’d never wanna make you uncomfortable,” his words drip with sarcasm.

rough fingers curling deep inside you, pressing against your spongy walls. wet squelches fill your ear, breath hitching. “liar,” you choke, “liar—“ your whines pitch higher, squealing when he plunges his fingers deeper, relentless and unforgiving as you cry out, legs spreading wider for him.

“fuck you’re a natural slut, y’ like my fingers don’t you? presenting your wet pussy to me, when I take about how I smell you,” he coos, degrading, but sexy nonetheless.

your mouth goes blank, grasping onto his shoulders, letting him knock you over the edge. with a strangled moan. with most sex with sukuna, you rarely have time to catch your breath, especially if he hasn’t come yet. your poor limbs are still trembling when he slips his fingers out, wrapping them around his cock using it as lube.

the whine that slips from your pretty lips when he manhandles you onto your tummy is pathetic. “ah—!” you flinch the second you feel his palm touch your bruised ass.

“shit.”

his touch is too gentle, unlike him at all. you hold your breath, body tensing as you feel his breath lower, wet lips kissing the globes of your ass. licking the dark bruises. “i really spanked the shit outta y’, didn’t i?”

you squirm again, whining when your arch back, pushing your ass towards him. “you look like fuckin’ sin, woman.”

your cheek presses against the pillow you’re hugging, “ryo…jus’— jus’ put it in already.”

a gutteral groan escapes his throat, jaw clenching, palms spreading your ass, digging his fingers into the soft flesh. “y’know I wanted to see your pretty ass, that’s why you wore those shorts, hmm?” he bites his lips, still admiring the sight, hand drifting back to his cock to ease some tension. “fuck, I missed this view.” his head falls forward, watching you squirm some more.

“just—“ you groan into the pillow, the desperation oozing out, now that you’re so close.

the dark chuckle behind you does little to stop your pussy from clenching in front of his invasive eyes, biting his lip, hand massaging your ass as the other slowly strokes his cock. fuck, he can smell your sweetness from here…

“maybe I should spank ya’ a little harder,” he ghosts a hand over your ass, and your whine echoes through the room. “I’m kidding,” he leans over, nudging his cock head against your entrance. “all jokes, babe, m’ not gonna scare you off jus’ yet.”

your jaw falls slack, nails digging into the sheets as his engorged tip pushes past the tight walls of your cunt.

his jaw locks, thick brows scrunching in unbelievable control, “fu—why do y’feel tighter? shiit,” sukuna chokes, body folding, lips finding your shoulder biting down to muffle the pathetic groan right beside your ear. your cheeks flush, needy ass pushing back into him, feeling his beefy cock stretch your poor pussy more. he feels bigger…

“d-don’t cum,” you whimper.

“m’ not a fucking virgin,” he snaps, eyes shutting tight when you clench, knocking the air out of him. “fuck, don’t do that!”

you whine, shaking your ass back, “s’ really big,” you drool onto the sheets, “wan’ it all inside me, ryo…please—“ your words cut off again, whine ringing in his ear. you were unbelievable. truly. because now he’s taking deep breaths, like he would in practice, just to control the hammering in his chest, and so he doesn’t let the cord deep in his stomach snap and flood your pussy with premature cum.

but “fuck,” this was hard. his grip tightens on your waist, squeezing you down to keep your ass from wiggling back, his breath uneven, shit this felt really different from before. your pussy was unbelievably warm, he could feel your gummy walls squeezing every corner of his pulsing girth. his tip felt like it was really sliding and touching you everywhere…

“oh shit…”

his body stills.

“wha? ryo, please, move—“ but the man is groaning so lewdly into your nape, you felt sparks all over your body. so dumb on having your hole filled you haven’t even realized it yet, until he’s shoving more of his length inside you and finally muttering out.

“i forgot the condom.”

you blink.

“wait—“ you choke, tears pricking your lash line, but sukuna forces his full thick inches deep inside you, unable to let you get a breath in as he fucks another body slamming thrust after another, your eyes bulge.

“fuck your pussy feels like heaven,” he groans loud, shaky as he picks up an unbelievable pace.

“no! angh—ryo, y’can’t,” you cry, body betraying you as your fingers curl in the sheets as you arch like a cat, thrusting your hips back wantonly.

“y’r like a’ perfect slut, babe, this your first time not usin’ a condom right?” he laughs, abs flexing, chest flushed as he uses his entire body to slam his length deep inside you, finally able to feel his sensitive tip reach the depth of your core, pressing against the soft part inside.

you cry out, trying to wiggle free, but your pussy squeezes tight, the drag of his raw cock agaisnt your walls was sending new sparks flying, your brain short circuiting, “i can’t—nghh,” you’re in hysterics, because it felt too good. your lips fall agape, body convulsing as you moan, orgasm crashing over you in less than five minutes.

“shiit,” sukuna buckles over again, arm catching himself beside your head as you whimper into the pillow, cheeks dewy with tears as you tremble from the aftershocks. “that was fast—“

“pull out,” your voice is stern. lashes wet and closed.

his jaw clenches, “c’mon, I’m already inside—“

“pull out!” your voice cracks. and something inside his chest twists, jaw clenching as he presses a hand to your waist, pulling his hips back, raw cock pulsing as he drags it out of your wet, warm hole. your body shivers, hugging the sheets underneath you.

the room is silent.

you’re still heaving, no longer arching back for him, but curled up quietly on the bed, eyes closed in silent contemplation, and sukuna…

his mind is raging with emotions. anger, frustration, embarrassment, guilt…

he’s hesitant. hand touching your side as he crawls over you. lips ghosting over your dewy cheek before pressing a light kiss, tasting the sweet salt. “hey…”

you remain quiet. chest rising and falling, clearly not asleep, but you were in silent hysterics. it felt too good. his raw cock inside you for the first time. you hadn’t even realized until he’d said something, how horny were you? seriously, get a fucking grip! you’d been telling him for a month you’d start taking birth control, it wasn’t a lie, you did want too, but it was a little more complicated…at least because….

sukuna’s voice is so close, so deep you feel it in your core, “i forgot.”

his hand drifts from your waist to your tummy, warm palm resting. grounding. he swallows thickly, veins straining against his biceps as he nuzzles his face closer to yours, kissing your jaw now. “i swear,” his words are strain, desperate for a response, chest tightening even more. “c’mon,” he urges, pressing himself closer, overwhelming you with his strong heat. why does this man always run so hot? he was like a goddamn furnace.

but sukuna is persistent.

with everything. but with you, his insides felt on edge. like he’d betrayed you, and it wasn’t easing anything seeing you shut him out so coldly—

“i said ‘m gonna take birth control,” you finally mutter.

his body stills, chest clenching as he holds you tighter, he’d manage to slot himself behind you, spooning you so closely, the only thing you could feel was him. and you didn’t hate it, thighs clenched around his that he’d managed to push between yours for comfort. either for him or you, he didn’t want to clarify.

he hums, hugging you closer, lips kissing the curve of your jaw, right below your ear. “i know, got carried away.”

you squeeze around his thigh, lips parting unable to find the right words, if their were any.

he presses his leg closer to your heat, your arousal coating his muscular thigh. squirming with need, as neither of you address how weirdly fucked up this is. you weren’t angry at him, you were to blame too, at least just a little. but him still wanting you for pleasure made you feel good. you couldn’t hate yourself for that, especially after pushing him away.

“tell me what you’ want, then,” he husks in your ear, breath heavy and uneven as you feel his cock still hard against your back. his body was huge, having him wrap himself around you, panting in your ear felt like he was shielding you from anything else. “i wan’ you…wanna make y’feel good.”

you hum, cheeks hot, lashes fluttering as you grind down on his thigh, exhaling softly at the friction. “t-there’s condoms i think in the sink drawer—or in the bathroom mirror cabinet…” you whisper.

he swallows, kissing your jaw, rough palm turning you to meet his lips in a hungry kiss. it was needy, messy. unspoken words neither of you understood, exchanged with tongues. desperate for your taste. “one second,” he pulls. warmth leaving you once he stands.

you wait…

his hand rubs against his sweaty chest, slipping into the bathroom to dig into your mirror. he ignored how flushed and red his face was, swinging the small cabinet open, eyes quickly scanning each shelf for the box of what he’s hoping to god is the right size condoms or he’s not getting any pussy tonight.

the lock in his jaw wasn’t easing, were you still curled up on your bed? did he cross the line? fucking up is nothing new to him, it’s practically out of his comfort zone not to fuck up. but still, you weren’t even together, so how could he mess something as simple as sex?

he’s gone raw with almost every girl he’s been with, pulling out to nut on them, or if he pulled out too late, it was a quick trip to the drug store around the corner to buy plan b. but your reaction left him on edge—

his brows crease. hand hovering over the line of pill bottles beside the condoms. vitamins, advil, tylenol, two prescription bottles…fluoxetine…trazodone. he turns them over, your name written across them.

“ryo?”

your voice echos softly through the small apartment. his jaw clenches, grabbing the entire box and slamming the mirror shut.

it’s none of his business.

your ears perk up hearing him drudge back with heavy footsteps. laying on your side still, but now facing the door, eyes all big and doey once he finally kneels back on the bed, ripping the box open and pulling out a condom.

“right size,” he mutters, “who were you fuckin’ before?”

the teasing tone grants him a smile from you, easing the tension in his shoulders. “pretty sure you told me to have a box of ‘em just in case.”

he bites back a smile, rolling the condom on before turning you on your back, spreading your legs out. “that right?”

you hum, hands coming up, urging him to lean down, allowing your soft hands to cup his neck and cheek, bringing him to your lips. the hum is gruff, cock sliding through your entrance once again, back arching off the bed as the kiss turns messy quick. the same desperation from earlier trickling back in, as if nothing’s happened, even though it lingers in the back of both your minds. you both try to kiss the tension away.

“fuck, still tight,” he grunts, groaning into your lips, thrusting the rest of his thick length in, hoisting your legs over his arms, bending you in half.

the air is sticky and hot. wet plaps and squelching fill your ears, letting sukuna fuck himself in your greedy hole. every gasp and whine going straight to his cock, tongue gliding against yours just to spit in your mouth excessively. panting above you as he watches your eyes stare up at him, keeping it on your tongue so he can watch his spit glide down your tongue pooling in the back of your mouth.

“fuckin’ slut,” he groans.

it doesn’t take long for you to cum, clinging to his back as he ruts over and over filling the condom.

it wasn’t over.

not tonight.

one, two, three, four condoms. each one filling with his thick cum, tied and tossed to the ground just to go for another.

“we’re gonna finish the box—“ you whine, tears staining your pretty cheeks, now back to your first positions arched back for him as he slides a fifth condom on behind you.

“that’s the plan—ngh,” his head falls back, unashamed at the gutteral moan that escapes. hands sliding to spread your ass, crimson eyes as big as saucers as he watches your pussy spread to accommodate his intrusive cock.

it was difficult not to think about you when he has you arched like this. your pretty moans dropping him into a state of unadulterated lust, stroking his cock inside you until you’re both slamming into each other, his hand clapping down on your ass, earning a loud scream from you.

“hurts—“ you whine, pussy clenching when he does it again, biting his lip to keep from the pathetic moans threatening to slip out. he does it again, and you cry louder, it felt good, too good…

“m’ close—“ he grunts, foot planted on the bed as his thrusts grow sloppy, palm rubbing your ass just to crack a hand over your bruises making you choke back, pussy spasming, easily knocking him over the edge.

the room’s still, his heavy pants fill the space, rolling off you.

your face presses into the sheets, catching your breath. exhaustion finally starting to pull at your eyelids. unsure if you can even go another round this late.

“didn’t mean to scare ya, earlier,” he mutters. his pants behind each word glancing for your reaction, your eyes heavy staring at the blanket beside your cheek.

he leans over, palm sliding on your waist, kissing the warm skin of your shoulder.

your body easily rolls over, glancing up at him. the prominent tattoos that mark his face add to his intimidating scowl. however, your hand gently brushes his neck, thumb rubbing his adam’s apple lazily. “yeah…”

his jaw clenches.

it sucks. how alike you are. neither of you good with your words, unable to comfort the other, except with your bodies. but you don’t seem to mind all that much, especially when he’s burying his face in your neck, inhaling your scent as he kicks the covers from underneath you and tosses them over. the warmth encompassing you both briefly…until your sweet gentle voice cuts through the silence.

“i jus’ don’t wanna make a mistake…”

the words hang heavy. you’re pressed together so closely, he’s laying half his body weight on you, rubbing his face in your neck, arm strongly wrapped around you.

you clear your throat, fingers absentmindedly playing with the tips of his messy locks. “I’ll let you know when we can get rid of the condoms…but if you can’t wait—“

he cuts before you can finish the sentence, “s’ fine.” your heart skips a beat when he squeezes you tight. “it just slipped my mind, ‘s all. busy week…”

you swallow a thick lump before you’re able to hum. fingers running through his hair. and it’s left like that. the silence. the closeness. the warmth. until you’re knocking out. even breaths, soft rises of your chest. his body pulls away gently, arm still circled around your waist, stretching the other to grab his phone.

the few cars moving outside the bustling city this late is heard from your window. along with the taps of his thumb typing fluoxetine into the search bar. it was an accident letting him grab the condoms, he didn’t need to know what those pills were for, but he can never let things go. the words antidepressants stared back at him. his gaze falls back to you when you shift beside him, leg thrown over his lap, cheek pressed against his chest.

you should have told him—

his head falls back on the pillow, what is he thinking—another ping appear: at the top of his screen. scowl returning to his face as he taps the message.

[1:55AM] (xxx)xxx-xxxx : you can’t stop me from seeing them. I’m giving you the courtesy of letting you know that, again ryomen.

his fingers flex against your waist. he swipes out of his messages, pulling another one up, typing quickly,

[1:57AM] sukuna : did u come up with anything yet bc im gonna pay her a fucking visit if she’s not kidding

sukuna sends the message, only to go back to his previous message chat to screenshot it and then send it toji.

sukuna watched impatiently as the bubbles appear, then disappear. “seriously,” he grumbles lowly, thoughts cutting once toji’s caller id appears.

“you can’t answer a text?” sukuna seethes through the speaker, keeping his voice low.

“i went back n’ forth with her all week, I don’t think your gramps is giving her any room to budge especially with the restraining order he has on her. but again, that doesn’t apply to you or the boys,” toji’s voice was laced with exhaustion, not enough to sedate the anger bubbling back up sukuna’s chest.

“so where the fuck does that put us?” he grits through clenched teeth.

toji sighs through the line, exasperated. “you free this weekend—“

“I’m not seeing that witch, again,” he snaps. unintentionally digging his fingers into your waist.

“y’ kinda have too, so don’t fucking bitch back to me, when I’m tryna help. suck it up and stay back after practice, we’ll head there together.” toji yawns, “better than her surprising you again, or she’ll try and find the kids at school,”

sukuna rubs his face, fingers digging into his eyes headache brewing. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill her, y’know that right?”

toji blows out a puff of air into the speaker, sukuna can already picture the amused expression on his coach’s face. “that’s why I’m comin’, I’ll talk to y’ later.”

the line cuts.

sukuna drops his phone on the bed, arm falling across his face in exhaustion. why is this is all happening now? seriously—

“you’re awake,” his low voice cuts through the stiff air. he feels you tense momentarily, arm lifting off his face to glance down at you, eyes sunk and annoyed.

“wasn’t on purpose,” you mutter, fingers brushing over his chest. he inhales sharply, chest rising high before exhaling, your hand stills on his diaphragm. you hadn’t meant to stir awake when he’d started talking on the phone, but the cool breeze from your apartment and the warmth pulled away from you was all factors in your ear perking up.

the silence that follows left sukuna staring up at the ceiling in contemplation. chest twisted into a million knots, throat dry from the conversation he’d just had, and ache so deep at what would happen this weekend, he wanted to smash something.

your lips part, fingers resuming their soft caresses on his stomach, feeling the dips and crevices of his sculpted abs. “i uh…” your cheeks sting, “I’m sorry for eavesdropping.”

another beat of silence wedges between you, ultimately setting you off slightly, lodging a pit in your stomach.

sukuna’s heavy arm moves down to bury his face in his hands, headache clawing at his temples. you carefully sit up, blanket sliding off to pool in your lap as you face the athlete, your hand pressing on his sternum, brows pinched in gentle worry. “do you want me to get you some water?”

his response doesn’t come, but you climb off the bed either way, mattress creaking under your shifted weight. sukuna peaks through his fingers, catching the sight of your retreating form, beaded curtain shaking behind you.

the apartment was quiet. the cars in the distant and a neighbor trying to get into his apartment, were the only sounds that could be heard.

your soft fingers pluck your cardigan from the floor. eyes briefly glancing at your notes still lying across the coffee table along with your tank top and sukuna’s wallet and keys. heat blossoms in your chest remembering the heated conversation that was exchanged, and the heated punishment that you’d received. your ass still stinging.

sukuna quietly lays on your bed, mind in shambles and heart twisting in nots merely thinking about this coming weekend. he’d already missed a weeks worth of classes, usually it wouldn’t be a big issue if finals weren’t drawing near. he still hasn’t figured out exactly what he’ll be doing to get this woman off his back. his face twists into a deeper scowl. he’d been jumping from toji’s and gramps this past week, piecing together the holes in the past six years—

“hey.”

the soft voice cuts through his thoughts, brining him back as he blinks up at you. you’re sitting on the edge of the bed facing him, cardigan closed tight with the glass of water in your hand.

your hair, which had previously been a disheveled mess, no thanks to him, was gently tied up to keep it away from your sweet face, drawing him to the gentleness of your tired eyes.

“thanks,” he mutters, arms casually bulging as he pushed his weight to sit up. you don’t address the comforting heat that spreads across your cheek when his hand brushes yours, taking the glass.

“i got you some tylenol, didn’t know if you had a headache or somethin,” you gingerly pass him the three pills from your palm, watching him throw them back without hesitation. his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, his hand catching the few droplets that ran down his chin. it was hard to look away from him. especially when he’s sitting on your bed so casually, mind distant, but warmth so present it could lull you to sleep right there.

“what’d y’hear?” he breaks the calm, eyes intimidating as they scan your face.

your fingers gently take the empty glass from his hand, placing it on the nightstand, “jus’ something about um…going somewhere this weekend…and you don’t wanna see someone.” which was the truth, you couldn’t make sense of the broken puzzle pieces, the conversation completely oblivion to you. except for the odd ache blossoming in the pit of your stomach that it has to do with that woman again.

sukuna scrutinizes your words, eyes picking you apart just for you to shoot him an annoyed glare, huffing, “m’ not tryna dig through your life, if that’s what you’re getting all defensive about.”

“did i say anything?” he grunts.

“you don’t have too,” you rub your eyes with exhaustion. “if it’s none of my business, it’s none of my business.”

his jaw locks. unable to decipher a thing about you, but feeling the slight weight in your words. from your perspective, you’d just seen him arguing with a woman a week ago. can he be defensive, even though you’re feeling unsure if he broke one of the conditions? did you think he slept with someone else without telling you?

“it’s not what you’re thinking,” his voice lowers, the clip in his tone obvious.

the quiet glance you shoot him carries more weight. lips wetting just to be silent again. “like i said, if it has nothing to do with me…”

“yeah, i heard. and I’m telling you, it’s got nothin’ to do with you. so you’re fine. this is fine,” he’s getting worked up. was it selfish to be getting worked up? was it selfish to be bothered that you were only worried because he might’ve broken some lousy condition and not because you—

your small hand falls on top of his. thoughts cutting as he looks at the distant look in your eyes. the heat blossoms from his chest to his cheeks. watching silently as you shift on the bed, leaning over him to wrap gentle arms over his shoulders, hugging him close.

he’s still, brain short circuiting until his body eventually catches up. cautiously feeling the warmth of your waist, allowing his arms to fully circle around you pulling you close. his face burying itself in your neck, inhaling your scent, letting the calm thudding of your heart ease his mind.

“you jus’ look tired, ryo,” your words are so soft. his throat goes dry, easily handling your body to lay beside him again. you hum, still caressing his nape as his warmth draws you closer to sleep. “don’t see me as some burden…that’s the last thing I’d want outta this,” you feel your own insecurities trickle in, drawing back just to catch them. “o-okay?”

he grunts, pressing himself closer to you for quiet comfort.

his immature mind drifts to thoughts of your touch, your warmth. it was nice having a woman to ease his roaring thoughts with gentle caresses. to let him bury himself in her just to feel her against him. this agreement was a godsend. any other girl would be long gone just from the way he’s acting, whines of you’re pushing me away, just let me in, nagging his ear.

but not your sweet self.

he’ll never let this go.

never let you go.

the comfort blossoming in his chest, forces the quiet mutter to leave his lips, unbothered by the future repercussions, because in this moment, keeping you physically is the only thing on his mind.

“that woman y’saw was my step-mom.”

next chapter

a/n: ohmygod getting through this chapter was clawing at my skin. i really wanted to keep their relationship light in the first two chapters. just having it be about them, and their deal. but now I’m finally getting into the drama and plot that I’ll flesh out more next chapter which I’m really excited about! i hope the smut this chp was good, i was loosening it towards the end bc i didn’t want you guys waiting too long for this chp!

alsoooo the ppl wanting to be added to the taglist got soo overwhelming I just decided to post the ch and I’ll try and go back and add everyone to the taglist SORRY!!

[spideyyeet]

➷ Unspoken Conditions ✦ 1 || How it All Started

[ SUMMARY ] — it was obvious when this started, it was simply a mutual understanding between two horny college students, with very high libidos, and didn’t want any random stds that this was purely a sexual relationship only. and yet, both of you are unintentionally toeing the line between that and something else.

[ PAIRING ] — fratboy!sukuna x f!reader (college au)

[ TAGS ] — MDNI 18+ ONLY. nsfw. angst. piv. fwb. rough. spitting. exhibitionism. ráw. heavy spanking. degradation. dacryphilia. slight exhibitionisim (thin walls). fingering. oral f!recieving. cunnilingus. overstim. manhandIing, size differences, cervíx kíssing, sukuna’s a dick. aftercare. slow burn. lots of yapping. ft. gojo, geto, shoko, utahime. wc: 13.3k

everyone has priorities in life. of course for many college students (that care where their money is going) they’d like to graduate, so their priority will always be school first and foremost.

and yes, the same goes for you.

however, just like many young adults surrounded by other young adults put in a very high stress and competitive environment — you need some much needed relief.

which is how you find yourself eyeing the tattooed scary looking man in chem lab.

it made it slightly less suspicious since ryomen sukuna was your lab partner. and he was just quietly listening to the instructions you were lazily reading off the packet, letting him set up the station. he never cared really, in a similar position as you, he just wanted to get through this lab so he can take a fat nap before his next class.

“quit zoning out,” he mutters, neither annoyed or upset, just tired.

you hum, blinking. glancing back down at the paper continuing to read off the instructions as he listens, like always. you hum again when he’s done setting the basic steps, you finally hop in to help.

neither of you complain about the other. he was a good lab partner, he did his best, carried his weight, and you the same. their wasn’t much to say about the other, which was why your conversations were always casual during your four hour labs.

“you keep zoning out,” he interrupts your thoughts again, snapping you back to reality.

“huh?” you blink again, glancing down at his gloved hand holding your wrist, stopping you from pouring too much into the beaker. “oh, my bad.”

he hums low and unbothered, but his crimson eyes flick over your face as you remeasure the liquid again, fixing your mistake.

“you hungover or somethin?” he asks, his low raspy voice clearly made it known that he was hungover. especially because he usually came to eight am monday lab hungover and never bothered to hide it either when you asked, so it wasn’t anything new.

your eyes widen briefly, not expecting the accusation. but you play it off with a shrug, shaking your head.

“no, i was just…up,” your reply comes off as…off. he catches it, brow quirked, eyes narrow scrutinizing just momentarily.

“up,” he repeats, amused, immediately clocking what that meant, and you notice.

scoffing, “it’s not what you’re thinking,” you slide the beaker to him to continue. sitting back on the stool as he continues with his part.

he just nods lazy and sarcastic.

“It’s not,” you repeat, leaning against your propped hand, watching him work so casually.

once again your mind drifts to how easy it is working with this guy. you always feel bad for shoko who has lab after you and always complains about her partner not doing any work, or skipping on purpose, but asking for her lab report after.

and your gaze drifts lazily over to his gloved hands working so easily, his hand is huge as they wrap around the large beaker. sukuna is intimidating mainly because of his starch size towering over everyone, including you.

it was not wrong of you to assume that he’s definitely built under his usually loose tshirt that always sat wide on his shoulders. and though you couldn’t admire his arms, and the way his veins were like spiderwebs across his tattooed skin, because of his lab coat. you knew that your partner is definitely fit.

“again, your turn,” he interrupts your thoughts, and you blink again. this time he’s smirking at you, not bothering to hide his own amusement over your aloof self today, especially eyeing you even closer. “seems like more of a long weekend type shit,” he snorts, unbothered when you flash him an unthreatening glare.

“like I said, it’s not what you think,” your fingers slide to the packet, writing down your results as your partner hums.

he glances at your focused expression, his amusement tugging on his lips again, “we’re both adults here, no need to be embarrassed.”

you scoff, still writing, still surprisingly unbothered by his teasing, because he really does have it all wrong. you know he’s implying you were up having sex. or I guess now he’s implying it was your whole weekend.

but truth is, you were trying to have sex. but unfortunately just as you were about to have sex with some guy you went on a few dates with this month, he breaks it to you that he actually needs to get tested, and low behold, he was found positive for some shit.

of course, you’re happy that you didn’t end up sleeping with him. but on the other hand, now you just have all this pent up sexual frustration bubbling inside you and no way to release it. and one thing you really hate doing, is having to solve it by yourself.

it was always boring, unsatisfying, and pathetic.

“wha—“ you yelp momentarily, a rough hand pressing on the top of your head makes you blink up.

“you seriously needa pay attention so we can get the fuck outta here and not go over time,” he huffs, now glancing over your face as you do the same. almost mesmerized by how controlled he is, especially with the dark circles under his eyes and the tired expression painting his face. and yet he’s able to get through lab every week.

“sorry,” you mutter, turning back to continue writing down your work.

lab was uneventful. every week of the spring semester spent twice a week here, with a hungover attractive lab partner and a sexually frustrated you, working seamlessly, talking about frivolous things, and then going your separate ways.

that’s until the end of midterms came and spring break began.

it was the first weekend of the break, and just like everyone else on campus. you, shoko, and utahime all went to the first frat party before everyone went on vacation or back home.

shoko only came to this frat because she went to high school with two of the guys there. as for utahime, she was always dragged by shoko, but ultimately stayed because she started having a lil crush on one of the guys that was close friends with the frat.

and you.

you need to get fucked.

doesn’t matter if it’s today or tomorrow or at the end of the week. you just need to do something to get someone’s dick inside you and if you don’t have sex by this week then you know you’re fucked for the rest of the semester.

of course, it’s easier said than done. anyone can have sex, but you, you were cautious, you didn’t wanna catch any stds or see a mico-dick, or sleep with some sociopath, and they had to have basic ass hygiene, and good breath.

“why don’t you go on another date? i can set you up with someone,” utahime said, as she passed you and shoko a drink.

you sigh, following them outside to the backyard of the frat. the three of you sitting on the bench.

“you can’t date in college, nobody is serious about anything,” you huff, siping from your drink.

“that’s not true. I’m telling you my friend is making this list of people that are open to actually dating, she says she wants to do this experiment type thing, like matchmaking,” utahime explains very animated.

shoko hums, lighting a cigarette.

“i don’t want to be apart of some weird college experiment?” you sigh, pressing the cold bottle to your cheek. “plus, i was basically studying abroad all of last semester and the semester before, the only people I’m still close with here is you guys.”

shoko nods again in agreement. “but it won’t hurt to meet someone.”

and you hate yourself for being so difficult, especially when you lean forward, pouting. “maybe I just want something easy…”

“like a one-night stand?” shoko points.

you shrug, because that didn’t sound tasteful, and you hate sleeping around, “this is so annoying, i think I just need to calm down.”

“i can so set you up on date and you can see how it goes—what the fuck—“ utahime screeches as she feels something cold press against her nape. “fuck you!” she shouts, elbowing the one and only frat president, satoru gojo.

shoko snickers, shaking her head as you scoff at his annoying bullying.

“it’s just a joke, jeez,” he cackles, “was just comin’ over to tell you your big fat crush was lookin’ for you.”

her eyes immediately light up, looking past gojo and at the guy she’s been crushing on all semester.

“then just say that, asshole,” utahime jumps up, turning to you and shoko quickly pointing at herself and you both smile brightly.

“you look good!” you say in unison.

utahime lights up and skips over to the man. while gojo plops in her seat, grabbing shoko’s drink and taking a swing. “so how are you guys? enjoying the party?”

you nod, clearly not as into the party as everyone else is, and shoko just laughs at the look gojo’s giving you.

“fuck is your problem?“

“nothing,” you glance at him, and he’s narrowing his eyes. then he finally lets out a loud sigh, standing up dramatically.

“as the president and host of this amazing fucking party, i feel it’s my responsibility to elevate this experience for you,” he loudly announces.

you stifle a laugh, rolling your eyes at him, but that doesn’t stop him from taking your wrist and tugging you up, shoko easily pushing your back as they lead you into the rambunctious crowd.

and even after the stupid dance off gojo puts on for you and the crowd, the glow in the dark face/body painting, and the childish would you rather games, is when a familiar face finally makes his presence known.

you don’t notice him immediately. but others do, glancing at the intimidating man stepping into the house. as per usual, he’s dressed in ripped baggy jeans, along with a loose fitting tee that perfectly frames his wide shoulders, and his backpack is slung on. he scans the crowded entrance, face itched with annoyance. a few girls light up at the sight of him, even when he just offers them an uninterested nod or walks past them.

he pushes through the crowd, luckily many quickly side step out of the way, terrified to get in sukuna’s way.

weaving past people trying to get his attention, because he’s already set his eyes on his snowy white victim.

“gojo.”

and before you can blink, gojo who was sitting against the wall beside you on the living room floor, is now being lifted to his feet in seconds, collar squeezing his airway as a seething sukuna barks at his face.

“what?! you knew about the party—“

“you said you’d do it on sunday, why the fuck is it tonight?” sukuna shouts.

their argument has the groups attention, including yours. well yours for another reason entirely.

your lab partner looks so hot.

your cheeks stinging as you glance at the way the veins in his arms are bulging, his huge biceps flexing as he holds up gojo. you eye the banded tattoos that wrap around the large muscles making your cheeks heat up.

while one part of your mind is drinking in how naturally attractive he is, the other is piecing together the fact that he’s apart of this frat and you never realized it.

it’s definitely because you were abroad for a year, and you rarely came to these frat parties to begin with, so you had no reason to actually think about it. plus you never stayed long enough to even know anyone else other than gojo, geto, and nanami, but even he left after his freshman year because it was too much being around his high school friends again.

but maybe the worst part of it is that you really couldn’t care less about other people. it was mean, sure. but your friends were the only thing that mattered to you, along with school, and that’s definitely another reason you can’t get laid. you can’t even bother talking to new people. it was too much effort, too little payoff.

“you zone out at parties too?” the familiar gruff voice cuts through the music, and you blink up, pupils dilating at the sight of your lab partner dropping his bag and falling on the floor beside you. his broad back hitting the wall in exhaustion.

“the arguing just got boring to listen too,” you shrug, and he snorts, taking the bottle you’d been hosting and drinking it. you lean to your side, head resting on the wall, fully facing your lab partner now. “I didn’t know you were ‘part of this frat.”

he hums, gulping down more of the alcohol easing his nerves from his burning veins, especially when he hears a crash in the distance. “mainly because of the team, just easier for everyone.”

“oh yeah, you’re a forward right?” you vaguely remember him mentioning how he needs to submit the lab before his practice. and gojo and geto happen to mention him occasionally and his tardiness.

he grunts again, turning to actually glance at you. and he snorts at the sight of the glow-in-the-dark paint on your face, lips quirking a bit when he sees the pink and green hand paint on the tops of your breast and neck, and along your arms, and thighs. “who did your painting?”

“shoko and gojo,” you glance down at yourself, amused. “they went a bit overboard I had to shove ‘em off.”

“yeah he’s a fucking dick.”

you snort, shaking your head in amusement. eyes unable to leave him. and the easy buzz that fills your mind made it easier to just ogle him. especially when his lips would move and you can see his sharp canines peaking again, and you can only imagine the way they’d feel sinking into your skin—

“ah—“ your eyes widen because his large hand is squeezing your cheeks hard.

“again,” he cuts in, “how bad is y’r fucking attention span? shit. you’re worse than my younger brothers.”

you’re just blinking up at him, embarrassed but also unbothered by his comments.

“I guess it’s bad,” you affirm. but in your defense, you were just horny and very sexually deprived.

“clearly,” he lets go, turning back to face the crowded house.

“what were you saying?” you interrupt, realizing he was definitely talking before you started daydreaming.

his gaze flicks to you in a momentary judgy side eye, and you just give him a bashful smile, clearly apologetic about zoning out. “was just asking how long you’ve been here. I rarely run into you at these parties.”

“uh what time is it?”

he glances at his watch. “11:15”.

“oh then I guess awhile. I got here at nine,” you glance around the room. “I came with hime—utahime, i dont if you know her.”

sukuna shrugs. and you continue glancing around until you spot your friend laughing in the kitchen with her crush, her cheeks flushed. cute, you smile. “that’s her, with the red bows in her hair.” you point, sukuna just hums. “and I came with shoko.”

“gojo’s friend?”

you hum. “did you go to high school with them too?”

sukuna barks out a laugh, “fuck no. probably would’ve killed that idiot if I’d known him that long.”

you laugh, shaking your head at the dark humor. “he’s not that bad.”

“he is. he’s worse actually,” sukuna tsks, almost like he’s recalling every horrible, annoying ass thing gojo’s ever done to him or in his vicinity. “throwing this party without me,” he scoffs again, more angry than anything.

“do all the guys in the frat have to be here to host a party?”

he tsks, “no, but gojo and the rest are too fucking lax with letting people in. I bet half the guys here snuck in without paying the entrance fee. and then when some shit breaks, we won’t have the damn funds to fix it. and his parents cut him off until the end of the semester so that idiot has no excuses now.”

“oh,” you cringe at his fueled rant. “i didn’t know it was that deep.” your lab partner just huffs in response. “is it bad that I didn’t pay?” you were half-joking, knowing that fee was mainly implemented for guys anyways, and you were a close friend of a friend.

“s’ fine, you’re hot so we wouldn’t have charged ya anyways.”

his response was so casual, you could easily gloss over it. but instead your eyes seem to light up. it wasn’t in a crush type of way, but more like a horny college girl that hasn’t been fucked in months type of way.

“you think I’m hot?”

he exhaled amused, eyes glancing back at you, rolling his eyes. “you in the mood to be complimented?”

you smile politely, albeit very teasingly too. “it’s been awhile.”

and those words immediately register in him. “y’r saying you’re not day dreaming about your most recent hookup every time we’re in lab?”

your lips part in shock, “what??? why would I be thinking about that??”

“you’re always zoning out, and then saying y’ didn’t get any sleep. you couldn’t have been more obvious,” he laughs.

your face heats up, “I kept saying it’s not what you think.”

“I think it is,” he pushes, enjoying the sight of you squirming at his little interrogation.

“it’s not,” you push back, stubborn. but he simply smirks, eyeing you close, as if he can read you, which he can’t, but you still feel him pierce your mind, as if it says so blaring I haven’t had sex in so long and I’m just a desperate girl!

but instead you decide to clarify it for him. “i just haven’t slept with anyone in awhile and that’s the issue.”

silence.

your cheeks flare with unadulterated embarrassment. ignoring the way his crimson eyes are wide in pure shock. because if anything, he expected you to reveal you had a boyfriend, or that your amazing hookup ghosted you, or something that wasn’t that.

“say something,” you shove his shoulder. and he’s still staring, even as you slap your face, feeling how hot it is. “you’re so annoying. it’s not that no one wants to sleep with me,” you embarrass yourself further. “I just don’t want any fucking stds or anything, which I’ve been super close to catching since everyone here is disgusting.”

“so you’re a virgin?”

your eyes widen. “I’m not a virgin!” you shriek.

his head falls back laughing, chest rumbling, catching the attention of a few people around. and you’re clicking your teeth, waiting for him to settle the fuck down, because it’s not that funny. luckily he does after a few long minutes of his annoying deep ass sexy ass laugh.

it could be because you’ve gotten familiar talking to him in lab all semester, that when you fall into casual conversation about your sex lives, it doesn’t embarrass either of you. and you feel validated when sukuna voices the same concerns as you.

“yeah pretty sure over the break someone started spreading chlamydia, and I don’t know if y’ remember last semester, some guy caught syphilis and a few girls got it too,” he lazily talks.

“ew no, I don’t remember that! but also I wasn’t here then.”

“you didn’t miss anything. but ‘s normal to be cautious of sleeping with anyone here, and the whole dating thing is just a fucking headache,” he mutters, sipping his drink.

“hime wants to set me up with this matchmaker thing,” your head drops forward, and sukuna offers you his bottle, and you just hold it for a second. “that’s just like…a lotta work.”

sukuna barks out a laugh, amused at the admission.

“it is,” you sip from the bottle, eyes closing briefly, missing the way sukuna hums in agreement, eyeing your throat bobbing. you sigh after swallowing, handing him the bottle.

“you don’t like relationships?” he asks.

“it’s not necessarily liking, it’s just not on my radar at all right now,” you admit. leaning against the wall again, looking over at utahime now doing shots with her crush.

utahime is definitely a romantic. she’s always wanted to get with her crush, and she’s always been a relationship type of person, which you were kind of jealous off because you could barely wrap your head around the commitment. and it meant more to her than just sex. but with you, when you see an attractive man, it was just sex.

“you sound like a guy,” he snorts, and you cringe at that.

“ew don’t say that.”

he shrugs, “I’m not saying it’s bad, that’s what I think too. maybe that’s why it’s easier for me to have sex, but harder now because everyone’s so fucking emotional about it.”

“that’s just mean,” you mutter, glancing at the women at the party. “obviously the girls you guys sleep with would get emotional. you guys don’t treat them very kindly. it’s kinda a universal experience as a girl, or just being in college.” you shake your head at his ignorance, and the man just scoffs, rolling his eyes as he sips.

“exactly my point. can’t fuck anyone anymore without it turning into a yelling fit after or getting a drink thrown in my face,” he tsks, you sigh, because that’s just the reality of dating/sleeping culture.

“probably because it’s never clarified to be a one night stand,” you think out loud.

“I’m pretty sure when you meet someone for the first time at a party and they’re all over you, it’s assumed that it’s just sex,” he scoffs.

but you shrug, shaking your head. “I don’t think so.” you pause, taking a beat to collect your thoughts. “many girls are romantics. guys just don’t know how to communicate, which leads to a lot of miscommunication.” you nod, proud of yourself for the way you phrased it.

sukuna snorts, laughing under his breath as he hums taking another long sip. “so anytime I wanna sleep with someone I have to clarify that’s it just fucking.”

you hum.

“I doubt I’d get laid if i did that.”

you shrug.

“would you do that?”

you frown, “it’s different for girls.”

he laughs. “the double standard is crazy.” he shakes is head. “I’m saying you, not all girls.”

“well i am a girl…and i just wouldn’t do that,” you clarify, and sukuna just nods his head sarcastically.

“because you’re too good for that? I’m pretty sure you’re the one that just wants to get laid and i guess daydreams about it too.”

you inhale, taking a deep breath before releasing it, because giving an explanation about your own terms and conditions was just making you sound unreasonable or even pretentious.

but still you elaborate, entertaining your lab partner at this party. “i just wouldn’t want a one night stand or a boyfriend. getting a one night stand is too much work, especially if I’d want to get laid often, and I already explained the dating thing. I just want something easy.”

and that leaves sukuna silent for a moment.

“so essentially, a fuck buddy.”

hearing that immediately made something click in your mind. you hum, nodding your head casually. “yeah that.”

that leaves sukuna’s even more amused. crimson gaze sweeping over you once again, taking you in for a second time that night because even though you were surprisingly easy to get along with in lab, he still would’ve never guessed you’d end up having a conversation like this.

though you haven’t fully realized the extent of your conversation, your attention distracted by gojo shouting at a few people in the kitchen because they broke a chair, sukuna’s eyes remain on you and his voice is just a bit lower when he asks.

“but you said you’re picky with who you sleep with?” you hum along. “then what’re the terms and conditions for your fuck buddy?”

your lips part, thinking briefly before responding. “well I’d have to be attracted to them. obviously.” sukuna nods along. “and they can’t be judgy or anything—“

“judgy how?”

“like if they’re judging me if i wanna have sex.”

he scoffs, “why the fuck would they judge you if that’s the point of the relationship?”

your lips part not wanting to elaborate so you just hum, “good point.” but you continue. “um I guess we’d have to agree on a few conditions…”

“like?”

you think. “like no strings attached type thing. probably like school and classes first. um..” you bite your cheek thinking some more, and sukuna patiently watches you, beyond entertained right now. “oh! if you’re gonna have sex with anyone else, it’s fine, as long as i know about it—in case they catch anything I’d like to be aware,” and sukuna hums along, watching you think again. “probably like if you’re okay with kissing, i think in movies they don’t do that.”

“in movies?” he laughs. and you just laugh too, nodding at the ridiculousness.

“i don’t know, i’m just thinking out loud. what would y’r conditions be?” turning the tables you watch his sharp canines peak again as he smiles, amused.

“I agree with the no strings attached shit. she should probably know it’s just sex. no condoms—“

“wha?” you interrupt.

he shrugs, “if I’m gonna have sex with you multiple times, then I’d like to cum inside. feels better, isn’t that the point of the whole thing?”

you think, “i guess.” and you don’t say anything further, so you let the man continue, intrigued by his own conditions.

“school first type shit i guess, but also if I’m stressed then maybe some agreement about relieving that,” he thinks, and you quirk your head, needing some more clarification. “i don’t know, like if y’r busy then obviously I’m not gonna force you to come and help me with my problem, but also if you’re not busy but it’s a school night then I’d like to fuck.”

“oh,” you nod in understanding. “i guess that makes sense.” he nods, “I’d also add a safe word.”

sukuna scoffs, “fucking obviously, you should have one regardless, even if it’s just a one night stand.”

you blush just a bit, humming in understanding. “kinks on the other hand…” he sits back on his arms, head tilted back looking at the ceiling as he thinks, “i don’t mind most of em, I guess we’d have to discuss it but doesn’t need to be in the beginning.” he glances back at you, and you’re still criss cross in front of him. “what about you?”

you think, “i think I’m the same. I don’t think i’ve experienced anything crazy to know what id definitely say no too.”

“spanking?”

you itch your cheek, “that’s nothing. I like that.”

“bdsm?”

you think, “dunno depends. I don’t think I can deal with extreme bdsm.” you tilt your head at him. “is that what you’re into?”

he chuckles light, “I’m into anything,” he shrugs. yes, that was a full lie. he does have preferences, he like’s being dominant, he likes hitting, spitting, and maybe it doesn’t sound extreme at first, it usually ends up heavy and hard, and the worst part about him is that he isn’t a major piece of shit and will tone it down for a majority of the women that end up in his bed who can’t take it, and it ultimately turns him off going soft and vanilla—

but you cut in, “for real?”

his lips part, the words yes ready to fall out, but the way your eyes light up just a bit, has him clenching his jaw. the trajectory of this conversation is toeing the line between something else, and he doesn’t wanna fuck it up just yet.

“I guess I’m a bit rough.”

your brow quirks, “how rough?”

sukuna sits up, trying not to laugh because now he’s being asked to describe how he is in bed. “that’s hard to explain.”

you hum, not wanting to push, but still very much curious about how rough this scary frat boy is. especially with the tattoos on his face and arms, and his rippling muscles. the multiple piercings—

“I can show you though.”

silence.

the base of the music filled the space, people laughing in the distance. but you can clearly hear your heart hammering against your chest, and your cheeks stinging with heat.

“what d’you mean?”

it was amusing the way your voice was higher pitched.

“let’s fuck. and it’s just sex, and if you like it, I’d be down to do the whole fuck buddy thing with you,” he’s smirking, watching the gears turn in your head. and hell, the conversation definitely had him itching to see his lab partner naked under him. and even if it didn’t work out in the end, at least he’d make you cum and satisfy his own frustrations about the party and lost money.

“you’re attracted to me, right?” his ego was much bigger than his head, especially with the way he’s looking at you.

it was funny seeing his cool headed, but aloof lab partner blush, but ultimately nod her head. “you’re clean right?”

sukuna lets out a loud scoff, clearly offended, “obviously.”

you shrug, waving him off, “I’m just checking…when was the last time you had sex.” you cringe, because you obviously didn’t take his word right away.

his jaw clenches, but alas his need to get in your pants outweighs his pride just a inch more. “like two—three weeks ago, yeah right after our last game.” you smile, because if he had anything, there’d definitely be signs by now. “and you, woman?”

your eyes widen, but ultimately wave your hand again, “I’m definitely clean.”

he raises his brow sarcastically, “well if i had to expose myself then you sure as shit have too. that should actually be another condition, equality.”

you scoff out a laugh, rolling your eyes, “i think it’s been,” you let out a ball of air, trying to remember how long it’s been. it was definitely months. “oh shit,” your eyes widen, and he quirks a brow. “i think it’s been…a little over a year now—yeah…since sophomore year winter break.”

a low whistle rings in your ears, glancing up at sukuna. you can’t tell since the lights in the house kept changing colors, but his ears were red, and his pants got a bit tighter. and the only thing he was thinking at the moment was that he’ll definitely need to stretch you out.

“was that an ex?”

you shake your head, “no just some guy i was seeing over break.” but you glance at his stone face. “what?”

he shakes his head trying to relax his shoulders, but his body was tense, and at this point he just wanted to take you upstairs already. “we’re both clean, so should we have a test round?”

finally, you hum in agreement.

your cheeks were permanently hot from this point on. letting your brooding tall lab partner lead you up the stairs to his bedroom. his hand was on your lower back, ignoring all the people that lingered in the hallway until finally swinging his door open.

your lips part with curiosity and anticipation, examining his bedroom, letting him drop his bag by his desk and grab his charger to plug his dying phone in.

you venture further in, setting aside your purse, before eyeing the few band posters he has up on his wall. his clothes were mainly strewn on his desk chair and beside his closest, but it smelled surprisingly good here. i guess you can thank the air freshener he has plugged into the wall. but it also smelled like him.

“ohhh do you guys all have your own bathrooms?”

“nah…” sukuna types something on his phone. “gojo and geto have a jack n jill type thing where they share a bathroom, and the basement bedrooms have a shared bathroom, but then everyone else shares around the house,” sukuna easily replies, tossing his charging phone on his desk before glancing back up at you.

he shamelessly lets his eyes track your figure as you stand in front of a scratch off movie poster list on his wall.

the skirt you were wearing was dangerously short, showing off your thighs and the paint marks all over them. he gets slightly irked thinking how one of those handprints is probably gojo’s. but he continues checking you out, especially your exposed back, and the dip in your spine.

his jeans grow tighter eyeing your soft hips. he shamelessly recalls every time he’s checked out your ass in lab, whenever you’d lean over the table, or bend down to grab something from your bag.

but now he definitely felt more eager to grab a handful of it, especially when you lean forward exposing more of your thighs for his greedy eyes, just to get a better look at the movie titles.

“you haven’t seen Lawrence of Arabia?”

your voice was unbelievably calm for how you’re actually feeling. maybe this seemed better in your head, but is this a good idea? you’re in your lab partners very fratboy-esque room, during a frat party, and neither of you are drunk enough.

“the movie’s like a billion hours long,” his voice is much closer now, and you tense momentarily when you feel his breath fanning against your shoulder. his hand casually brushing your hip as he leans forward pressing his chest against your back to glance over at the poster. “think I watched the first hour then fell asleep.” his thumb shamelessly caresses your bare skin.

you nod, heart hammering as you try not to move. but luckily, he takes charge. laughing under his breath as he turns you to face him. both hands on your hips now, head cocking to the side in amusement, gaze locked on your face.

“is talkin’ about movies foreplay for you?” he asks, all while eyeing your lips.

“well no,” you mutter, slightly embarrassed because he’s licking his teeth trying not to laugh. you were beyond casual talking about your sex life with him just a few minutes ago, and even more casual listing your conditions for your potential sex buddy. so it was definitely amusing seeing you all lost and mumbling right now. “you sure you wanna have sex? y’know it might be you who doesn’t like it in the end.”

he scoffs. “trust me, y’r not scaring me.”

you don’t respond, gaze glancing over his sharp features, bitting your cheek because you can see his dark lids on your lips, and his body heat was overwhelming your senses.

maybe you weren’t entirely uncomfortable with the situation, but more so anxious. you’d been holding back for so long, that you don’t mind at all when he stands tall, hand casually holding your jaw, crimson pupils dilating just a bit at the sight of you parting your lips.

“you didn’t clarify,” he leans forward, easily pinning you to the wall, and your heart is hammering faster seeing this side of him. “kissing…yes or no?”

and the words couldn’t have come out faster. “yes.”

you gasp when his lips crash into you. your hands find purchase on his bicep as your kiss turns messy in seconds. you were not a victim, whining in full delight when his tongue slips into your mouth, hand grasping his shirt as he presses you further against the wall, knee slotting between your legs as his tongue plays with yours.

you could’ve guessed he’d be a good kisser, but this was mind-numbing.

especially in your sex crazed mind. your lips are parting, panting as you catch your breath before he’s kissing your lips again, biting down hard making a cute gasp come from your lips.

your nails dig into his biceps. the pleasure coursing through you, thighs clenching around his thigh as he presses it higher up, humming when his hands come down under your skirt, grabbing a handful of your ass. squeezing.

“angh!” you gasp in shock, and he chuckles, tonguing your lips, with a smirk, before muttering so deep it reaches your soaked panties.

“been eyeing this ass every time we’re in lab,” he admits, shamelessly. giving it another squeeze before kissing you again. “best part.”

your cheeks flush, unbelievably turned on, whining every time he bites down on your lips, running his tongue over it.

it’s addicting.

so much so, that your lips only part in momentary shock when he lifts you up.

your lips don’t leave his, holding his jaw now as you kiss him desperately, legs wrapped around his torso.

his tongue is warm in your mouth, leading you to his bed. his hand still groping your ass, arm wrapped around your waist, kneeling down on the bed. and it was fucking validating when he cracks a hard slap on your ass, and you moan in pleasure.

“fuck, you’re so well behaved,” he laughs, laying you on the bed before sitting up. he easily lifts your legs up, pulling your skirt and panties down, in one swift motion, tossing it off the bed, and that’s when he has to bite back a pathetic groan. “shit.”

you’re flushing just a bit at how quick he’s moving, chest still uneven from the make out session. not registering how gone sukuna is. he’s pushing your legs apart, pupils blown at the sight of your exposed pussy. “you’re fucking drenched, woman, did you cum already?”

your lips part in shock, shaking your head, “no! you barely did anything.”

he hums, chuckling darkly as his thumb comes down and rubs through your drenched folds, your hips jerk in surprise, whining so softly he has to control himself. “well y’r fucking soaked,” he points. canines peaking as he smiles. “this is hot,” he hums in approval because your pussy was fully shaved, aside from cute heart shaped landing strip you kept.

“yeah?” you bite your cheek, since you hadn’t slept with anyone in so long, this little design you decided to do, has never been complimented.

“fuck yeah,” he groans, leaning down to kiss it. your cheeks sting, the back of your hand covering your mouth, as you hum.

his lips continue to trail down to your dripping pussy, mouth already drooling before he even gets a taste.

and when he does, all hell breaks loose.

“angh fuck! wait—“ your head falls back in pleasure, forgetting how fucking good it is to be eaten out. his tongue is greedy, lapping the mess around your folds before delving back in again. he was a beast, rubbing his face between your legs, drinking in your arousal before tonguing your clit.

your hand shoots out, gripping his salmon locks hard, hips stuttering, but he doesn’t move, only groaning when you yank a little too hard. his wet lips loud as they fill the room.

the low base of the music downstairs shielding your moans as you whine, feeling the coil begin to wound up with every flick of his skilled tongue.

“suk—angh! gonna cum—“ your legs tremble, trying to close on instinct, but he keeps his arms tightly wrapped around your thighs, face moving between your legs, pushing you further along the edge, until you’re finally tipping over.

your hips jump, lips parting as a soft whine leaves your throat, and the man just groans in delight as you coat his tongue in more juices. your legs shake, trying to catch your breath, but he’s already kissing your heart, pushing a finger inside without warning.

“we didn’t think of a safe word,” he smirks, watching you whine, abs clenching in surprise because he doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath, before he’s fingering your poor pussy.

“angh—um—“ you gasp, trying to think, but his fingers curl so beautifully, pressing against your sweet spot making you whine.

“fuck you really haven’t had sex in a year,” he coos, biting a smile at the way your hips chase his fingers every time he stops. “you miss cumming?”

you nod, lips parting to reply, but then he’s pressing his thumb against your clit and your words just turn into more whines. your pretty lashes flutter against your cheeks, hips rolling up like a desperate slut, and he’s fucking hooked.

“well? gotta think of a safe word, woman,” he inserts a second finger, humming as your walls stretch around his digits, not giving you chance before pistoning them in and out. your eyes bulge, back arching off the bed, nails digging into his bicep as he trails kisses up your neck, and he’s mean.

scissoring your tight cunt, ignoring your whines that it was too much. “answer me. you into colors? food?” he’s fucking teasing you.

he always has a go to safe word, but it’s just more fun watching you struggle to answer him.

“I—r-ryome—angh please, ‘m close,” your voice is so fucking sweet, he is honestly amazed that you’re able to cum so quickly after your first orgasm. and maybe he should give you a second to breathe, but he’s just kissing your nipples —you hadn’t even realized he’d pushed your top up, and unclasped your bra.

“I’m gonna put a third finger in, but how about mango?” he’s licking your nipple, crimson gaze staring up at you as he teases a third finger, and you’re squirming, but nodding.

“mango, mhm ya that works,” you’re out of breath, “i like mangos,” you add and he’s biting back a smirk before pushing in a third finger.

“same.”

sukuna licks his lips, gaze locked on you as he stretches you open with his fingers. your moans weren’t crazy loud, and it was quite cute whenever you’d squeeze his arm, burying your face in his shoulder, or when your thighs would close around his arm as you tremble.

“open up,” he clicks his tongue, but you’re panting. “calling it quits now?”

“no!” you blurt, but you’re pulling away, resting back on his sheets staring up at him. “can you put it in now?”

his hand stills, fingers frozen inside you as his eyes narrow, he’s going a little overboard, but you’re tight as hell. but the way you’re batting your lashes at him, and all he can see is his lab partner who would always ramble about some shit or zone out, now all flushed and out of breath…well he can’t help the fact that your full undivided attention is on him.

your legs tremble as he pulls his fingers out, popping them in his mouth sucking them clean.

you sit up just a bit, letting him pull your top and bra fully off, tossing them aside while his hand grabs the hem of his shirt, lifting it overhead.

the air around you is much hotter, even after your previous orgasms. a new tingling swirling inside you once sukuna tosses his shirt. and it could be how ripped this man is, his abs sculpted to perfection, or it could be the religious tattoos the decorated his tanned skin.

your lips part in awe, chest rising and falling, hands playing with your fingers as he slides off the bed unbuckling his loose jeans and kicking them aside, followed so quickly by his boxers that you didn’t even get a chance to ogle his dark happy trail that leads to his large bulge, before the real thing springs out.

your pupils dilate at the sight. biting back a pathetic whine, when he smears the pre that’s collected around his bulbous tip, kneeling beside you.

“y’r not gonna fuckin’ run away. s’ your fault you wouldn’t let me stretch ya more, so no crying, okay?”

his words go in one ear and out the other.

your thoughts numb just nodding mindlessly as he continues stroking his abnormally large cock. your gaze locked on him, taking in the sight of your lab partner naked, allowing him to lean between your legs resting his cock on your belly— “when y’ feel me right ‘ere, then that means I’m all in.”

your face is beyond flustered. his words turning your head to mush, even when his lips find yours again, and starts rocking his cock through your folds collecting your wetness to coat his length. you’re just humming in delight.

“you’re so submissive,” he laughs, kissing the tops of your breasts, sinking his teeth in as he presses his tip to your entrance— then it’s clicks.

you immediately push his chest back.

“condom,” you blurt. and his face immediately scrunches in disgust.

“no. that’s one of the conditions,” he huffs.

you frown, “well I’m not on birth control, considering I haven’t had sex in like a freakin’ year. you have to give me like a sec to get back on it,” your frown easily turns into a pout. eyes doting up at him, pleading.

it’s worse. you’re also clasping your hands together like a begger and he’s just eyeing the way your pretty tits squish together, and the bite marks and hickies he left on them. “pleaseeee.”

his jaw locks, head falling back releasing a loud groan. “fine.”

he hates the way you perk up, rolling his eyes as he climbs off you and searches his nightstand drawer for the box of condoms. you patiently wait like a spoiled princess before he’s kneeling back on the bed, pumping his cock again and rolling the condom on.

of course, he’s spewing curses, “fucking hate these shitty things,” he mutters.

you let him curse the heavens, but when he’s back between your legs, pushing your legs high up on his waist, you’re immediately consumed by him and the slow burn that spreads inside you as he pushes his tip in.

your moan breaks through, whining as he rocks his hips, continuing to push past the tightens, but you’re clenching around him like a fucking seductress, whining even more when he squeezes your thigh in warning.

“watch it,” he huffs.

“k-kay,” you pant, lips parting in gentle gasps feeling him go deeper.

this is what he means when he said he’s kinda rough.

he doesn’t wait for you to fully adjust before crashing his lips into yours, tongue greedy as he pushes into your mouth. his knees plant into the bed as he starts thrusting into you, pushing the rest of his thick cock into your tight hole making you grasp his shoulders. your manicured nails dig into his muscles as he grunts.

he’s laughing against your lips, pulling back, arms braising himself above you, caging you under him, as he looks you over. “good?” and he’s a self righteous prick. full of himself and it definitely stems from how much he’s packing and how you’re holding onto him like a baby koala.

but of course, your sex deprived self is eating it all up, humming and nodding.

you feel so full.

you can feel every vein and ridge of his thick cock, and you almost cursed yourself for not having sex for so long, because how can you have gone a year without this feeling??

but you doubt you’ve ever been stuffed this full. and maybe that’s why you’re whining and moaning when he starts rutting into you, hips snapping against you, grunting in your ear everytime you unintentionally clench around him.

“angh!—feels good!” you whine, grasping his nape, back arching as he continues his relentless pace. sharp thrusts leaving your breathless.

“fuck—haah—“ he pants, groaning when your nails dig a bit too deep in his skin. his teeth sinks into your shoulder.

his face and chest are flushed, forehead dripping with sweat as he feels you come undone, and he’s filling the condom with his load before he’s pulling out and rolling on another condom.

you’re still panting, humming in delight when he easily flips you to your stomach pulling your hips back so you’re on your hands and knees.

“you can go again?” but the question is more of statement as he gropes your ass, spreading it apart and eyeing your puckering hole. “pussy is still clenching,” he coos.

you lean back, humming in pleasure as you feel the cool air touch your soaked folds.

“yes, more,” you reply, words falling off into a moan when he pushes his cock back into your warmth. your eyes flying open because he reaches much deeper than before, and he’s slamming into you unapologetically. “angh! haah—“

“good girl, you feel me inside? huh—fuckin’ you just like ya want?”

he’s pounding into you, bruising grip on your waist, before cracking a hand down on your ass just to hear your cute gasp of pleasure.

you’re grasping the sheets, but surprisingly trying to fuck back into him. sukuna bites down on his jaw, trying not to bust, but a deep groan slips when you clamp around his hefty cock again. “fuckin’ slut, tryna squeeze my cock—haah shit!” he grunts, leaning back as he wraps an arm around your waist and lifting you up.

“wha—angh ryo!—“ your eyes are wide as he holds your back against his chest, and you’re arching away in pleasure. “angh—“ you cry as he gropes your tits, pinching your nipples, twisting them between his greedy fingers.

“no sukuna?” he laughs, grunting against your shoulder as he watches your head fall back, whining when he gives your nipple another mean twist.

your mind is scrambled, completely lost to the pleasure, letting him use your body, making you feel every form of pleasure you could ever dream off. it didn’t matter how pathetic your whines got, or how much you came. because he was just manhandling you into another position, biting your lip hard, tongue invading your mouth again, before he’s got a fresh condom on and pummeling into you again and again.

your soft whines turn into sweet cries, and his eyes are dilating in awe, cheeks flushed as your vision blurs. your wet lips part, crying his name over and over.

“s’ too much—ryo—please gonna cum—“ and he’s just laughing above you, as if his own abs aren’t clenching from the overstimulation. knocking the wind out of you with each vicious thrust.

you’re laying on your side, his arm locked around your torso, hugging you against his chest, your back sticking to him as he holds your leg up, fucking mean thrusts into your squelching pussy. heavy balls slapping your ass with every thrust.

“haah—fuck fuck—“ his grunts are just a bit louder than usual, and it’s definitely because you’re actually keeping up with him. his lips part, groaning as you clench around him again. his fat tip kissing your cervix every thrust, you’re practically seeing stars.

“r-ryo—ah—“ you moan, arm coming around his neck, nails digging into his nape as your lips lock with his. and he’s grunting into your mouth, and you’re swallowing it, panting against each other like sex deprived addicts, because you are.

his lips part against your mouth groaning loud as he feels his balls tighten up again, abs flexing against your back, easily spilling another heavy load into the condom, just as your cumming around him too.

you’re both shaking in pleasure. covered in sweat, and spit, and your cheeks are damp, but you push him back.

his back hits the mattress and you’re grabbing another condom and rolling it on his sensitive cock. he jerks back abs flexing, groaning when you squeeze his base eyeing his flushed skin as you climb on his lap. your hand brushes over the dark hair that covers his base in awe.

“fuckin’ hell, woman,” his head falls back, calloused palms digging into your waist, as you sink down on his chubby cock. your lips part in ecstasy, eyes heavy as you roll your neck back. “think you can ride me?”

you hum, “yeah,” planting your small hands on his large pecs, leaning up, and just that has you shaking above him. shoulders trembling and thighs shaking with overstimulation. fuck, “s’ really big, ryo,” you whine.

his chest shakes a bit at the admission, licking back a wide ass smirk, as you adjust again. even after being fucked multiple times by his fat cock, you’re still crying about the size.

sukuna doesn’t complain, it gives him a second to catch his breath, staring up at you like you saved him from the drowning ocean of lazy ass women that just go two rounds of vanilla ass sex then pass out.

but you.

he grunts when you start moving, tits bouncing every time you fall back down on his cock, and the squelching is obscene and lewd. your lips part in pleasure as you start moaning.

“just like that, mmm fhuck—“ sukuna spreads his legs further apart, tilting his hips up just to feel you clench even more, and his eyes darken at the sight of his cock poking your tummy. “fuck, ridin’ my dick like a fuckin’ slut,” he snickers, choking back another throaty moan, because you aren’t even fully riding his cock, you’re only coming up a bit before clapping back down, whining like a touch starved baby.

“cmon, yeah fuck—you can go faster, babe,” his hand comes down on your ass, grabbing a handful. assisting.

“s’ hard,” you whine, trying to keep up the pace he’s setting, his biceps flex everytime he lifts your ass up, and your mind is going dumb because he looks so hot grunting under you. his chest sticky with sweat, tatted cheekbones flushed, and he won’t stop staring at your pussy.

“you’re on top, do some work,” he snaps his hips up, groaning when you fall forward. “don’t act like a fuckin’ virgin,” he pants.

“mm ryooo,” you whine, “I’m tryin’,” and you try to sit up, your big doe eyes glossy and red with new tears. and you’re practically numb trying to ride his pulsing cock, and it only sets him off again. thrusting up, knocking you forward. “ahh!”

“not tryna hard enough, woman,” his hand cracks down on your ass again as punishment, grabbing a handful of the flesh before thrusting up again and again. you’re crying into his neck, trying to sit up, but he’s ruthless, panting and grunting like an animal, not giving you a chance to take control of the pace. “such a fucking crybaby.”

“i-im n-not,” you cry again, lips parting in pleasure as he plants his feet on the bed, holding your ass up as he fucks up into your pussy. the squelching is beyond lewd, your moans can’t even be replicated in porn, they were so fucking sweet and sexy.

his mind is numb, grunting with pleasure as your pussy drenches his thighs and pelvis in a sticky mess, huffing out another groan when your lips find his in a messy kiss.

you whine against him, drooling into his mouth as he licks it up. cheeks flushed and eyes lidded as he watches your lazy gaze on him.

“spit in my mouth,” he rasps out.

you whine, not even disgusted but so fucked out that it makes you blush, holding his neck, nails scratching his jaw as his mouth opens. and just seeing your lab partner panting underneath you, makes you lose your sanity, letting a fat glob of spit hit his tongue.

he swallows, blissed out when your wet lashes kiss your cheeks.

“ngh fuck, you’re so good,” he grunts, entire body lit, ruthless in his thrusts, letting you sob into his neck, enjoying every bit of it as you moan his name over and over. “so good, tight ass haah pussy taking my dick,” you tremble on top of him, tits pressed against his slick chest, cunt squeezing him to death as you cum with another muffled moan your vision going white, trembling on top of him.

“fuckk— gonna cum,” his head falls back, hand spanking your ass again as his thrusts grow sloppier chasing his high.

you whimper in his ear, sighing his name over and over, “feels good, ryo, haah,” you pant, wet lips brushing the crown of his ear sending chills down his spine, face bright red, grip tight on your ass until he’s thrusting deep inside you. his head lolls back, adam’s apple throbbing as he cums undone.

there’s a beat.

maybe he’s right, you think. your pussy clenches around his pulsing chub thinking how much he’d have filled you up if it wasn’t for the condom.

and a primal part of you wanted his heavy load to paint your walls and coat you in his scent. especially when his sweaty musk is invading your nose and making you even more dizzy as he lazily grinds his hips up, milking most of his white cum into the stupid rubbery protection.

“could’ve filled this pussy,” he mutters under his breath, kneading your ass, and you can’t even respond because you’re thinking exactly that.

you pant softly against his chest, mind slowly regaining some sense as his legs slide back down on the bed, heaving underneath you.

you’re both enjoying the calm, neither of you jumping for a nth round, so he carefully lifts you up by your ass, letting his cock slip out, pulling the condom off and tying it. all while your face is still buried in his neck, hugging him close.

he tosses the condom on the floor, hand falling on your back rubbing lazy strokes up and down your back. he would never admit it out loud, but if you’re still jumping to go another round, he’ll have to make due with his fingers and tongue, until his cock jumps alive again, because right now, he might faint if he feels your tight cunt squeeze him again.

“how do you feel?” you finally mutter. voice a little hoarse from your moans, and crying.

“good.”

your lips part, but instead you carefully slide off him, sighing once your back hit the soft mattress, chest rising and falling in even, steady breaths.

sukuna glances over at you, eyeing you for the thousandth time that night. especially now, because he was ruthless. the dark bruises on your waist was a sign of that, along with the bite marks all over your tits and neck, and he didn’t even want to imagine what your ass looks like.

obviously it didn’t help that you were moaning that stupid nickname his brothers call him, followed by harder harder. how the fuck was he not supposed to go harder then?

your arm covers your face, still managing to catch your breath, and he’s sitting up on his arms, watching you closely, eyes narrowed.

“don’t tell me that wasn’t good?” he manages to speak. and now all he’s expecting is for you to stumble up and out of his room because he was too rough—

“no,” you sigh, dropping your arm on your stomach, eyes a little damp from your crying earlier. “it was really good,” you blush internally, the way his sculpted face is looking down at you, his dark eyes boring into yours, tongue peaking out to wet his lips a bit.

you would fucking jump his bones this second, but you knew you were way past your limit. “never had sex like that…. worth the wait,” you admit.

he snorts, “was i too rough?” he checks the marks on you again, almost feeling bad about what he did to his poor lab partner, even if it made his cock stir a bit to know he’s the first to mark you up in a long time.

“you were rough,” you nod, caressing a hand gently on your stomach, almost missing how it bulged when he was inside you. “but i liked it. pretty sure i kept asking for more,” you laugh, embarrassed.

he licks his teeth nodding, “yeah, it definitely shows you haven’t been fucked in awhile.”

“hey!” you slap his arm, and he laughs. “don’t make fun of me.”

“kinda hard not too when you kept crying for more,” he laughs even more, and you’re flushing, lips parting in bewilderment. scrambling for a reply.

“I wasn’t crying!” you shriek.

he snorts, rough palm coming to your cheek, swiping under your eye collecting your tears. “what’s this then,” he shoves his thumb in your face, and you scoff loud, rolling you eyes.

“those are just eye tears, like when your eyes water when you yawn,” you shake your head.

“Pfff—“ sukuna barks out another hefty ass laugh, his entire chest shaking at your stupid ass excuse.

“ha ha ha,” you sarcastically join him, rolling your eyes again, ignoring the way your cheeks sting, because why did he look even more attractive when he’s laughing like this, especially when his eyes would close, hand actually on his belly as he laughs. “whatever,” you mutter.

“yeah yeah,” he slowly calms down, sighing from the laugh, as his hand lays on your waist.

“pretty sure the bruising will be gone in a few days,” he examines, large palm skimming over it.

“bruises??”

your body immediately sits up in alert. you glance at where he’s touching your waist, and you can already see the hand prints start to darken. “what the hell??” you shriek.

the man just shrugs, “what’d you expect?”

you’re speechless. “well….” his hand continues to hold you, before pushing you to your side, “what’re you—“

but his hands are already on the globes of your ass, humming at his previous words. “yeah a week for ‘em all to heal,” he squeezes the flesh, making you jump.

“hey,” you huff, burying your cheek against the pillow frowning up at him.

his brow quirks, “what? you mad at me?”

“no,” you mutter.

he scoffs, hand sliding back to your waist, not even fully realizing how attached he is to your body — he can’t seem to let go, even when you’re letting go of your pity attitude, to actually lick your lips and speak.

“so…was it a good test round?” you’re the one to ask. heart hammering because if you can have him as your fuck buddy for the rest of the year, then you’re set! no more grumpy attitude, no more sweet treats when you’re feeling stressed, no more pent up sexual frustration.

“i thought so,” he hums, “you?”

you nod immediately, unashamed how eager you are to lock this agreement.

“so?” you bite your cheek, almost like you’re trying to read his mind before asking, “so we have an agreement?”

he snorts, itching his chin as he nods. “yup, I’m game,” he smirks.

your hum is high pitched, nodding like this was the best gift anyone can ever give you, and if you were being completely honest, it is. at the time.

sukuna finally gets up, arms stretching overhead, rolling his shoulders back as he drudges over to the bathroom. “just so you know,” he starts, “I’m just being nice because we have an agreement,” he comes back with a warm towel. “I’m not fucking cleanin’ every girl i fuck,” his clarification has you nodding sitting back on your arms as he spreads your legs, cleaning you up. and you’re blushing, loving this agreement already.

“you should though, it’s nice,” you say.

he scoffs, shaking his head, thumb brushing over your cute heart. “fuck no.”

you sigh, like a disappointed mother, but laugh lightly when he rolls his eyes at you.

“what time is it?” you glance around for a clock.

“almost four,” he answers, handing you your phone as he tosses the towel aside, picking up the used condoms strewn across the bed and floor.

you’re sitting up fully now, hugging one of his pillows as you scroll through your messages. shoko and utahime texted you a few hours ago asking where you were, and a few minutes later saying they were gonna leave and that gojo saw you leave.

you check a few other messages, before going back and replying to them. a short apology for not responding and that you were fine. along with a dumb reaction pic of someone bitting their lip, implying well…you finally got laid.

“you good?” sukuna comes back out, now wearing loose pajama pants, holding a tee shirt in one hand.

you hum, glancing up, briefly before checking the time again.

“yeah, i should probably head home now, needa catch the next train.”

“just stay the night,” sukuna casually shrugs, tossing you his shirt. “there’s no classes tomorrow, just leave in the morning.”

“for real?” your cheeks sting smiling at his kindness.

“yeah, you probably can’t even fuckin’ walk properly, I’m not gonna let y’ take the damn subway at night,” he rolls his eyes at the stupidity. “and don’t be saying shit to other people because i kick every girl out.”

you stifle a snort, humming.

“so kind!” you cheer, throwing his shirt on and quickly getting under the covers. sukuna scoffs, itching his chest as he checks his phone yawning before climbing in beside you.

“don’t fuckin’ kick me, brat,” he warns, and you just hum again, rolling to your side, back facing each other, and knocking out immediately.

surprisingly enough, when the sun rises that morning and a loud knocking resounds in the room. you don’t feel embarrassed, or anxious. instead you just yawn into the comfy sheets, not wanting to fully wake up.

but the loud banging outside sukuna’s door was making you both stir in annoyance.

“hi bitch, you gonna get up for practice? coach said one more practice before the break!” gojo’s yelling doesn’t stop, shaking the locked doorknob. “hellooooo!!!”

“I heard you, okay, fuck off!” sukuna yells, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face in the pillow, and gojo mutters something pity before disappearing.

“you were fuckin’ kicking all night,” he grumbles, and you turn over, eyes heavy as you rub the sleep away.

“nuh uh.”

“yuh huh,” he turns his head to face you. eyes narrow. “fucking shoved me off the bed.”

“I’m a peaceful sleeper,” you tsk.

“peaceful my ass,” he scoffs, sitting up with another full body yawn.

and it felt like second nature. the both of you seem to be on the same page, just like how you are in lab. he lets you take his shirt, along with a clean pair of old sweats he never wears, pulling the drawstrings tight so it doesn’t slip. and you wash your face and use his mouthwash, before tying your disheveled hair.

“you wanna fuck later today?” sukuna asks casually, throwing shit into his duffle.

you can’t help the way your face lights up, “yeah!”

the man snorts, “fucking weirdo,” he laughs, opening the door for you. and you’re thankful you don’t have a crazy limp. it’s there, but subtle enough not to address as you follow sukuna downstairs.

it’s a bit too casual for the both of you that neither of you bat an eye when gojo and geto gawk at your appearance behind the pink haired brute. you have that post-sex glow, eyes bright, lips pulled into a soft smile.

“hello??” gojo’s eyes are so wide, his piercing blue orbs almost take over the room. “you were the one he was fucking last night?!”

your face stings, almost forgetting the party was existing simultaneously as you were getting railed.

“shoko did mention how her and hime were tryna set you up,” geto notes, realizing why now. “you needed to get laid?”

“look at her face? what the fuck?? your attitude was so crappy last night, but after you get dicked it’s all smiles?!” gojo shrieks.

“my attitude wasn’t crappy last night,” you huff, “I had a good time. It was a fun party.”

“yeah sure,” gojo scoffs, crossing his arms. “started a dumbass dance battle for you.”

“thanks satoru,” you smile. and he just rolls his eyes, pity as always.

you fix your purse on your shoulder, your clothes from last night in a target bag.

“what you have nothing to say,” gojo tsks at the tattooed man, he just shrugs casually.

“not really,” he yawns, until your hand suddenly grabs his shirt when he reaches the bottom step, pulling him back as you whisper something in his ear.

geto and gojo both raise a brow.

even more curious when sukuna barks out a laugh, pulling away. “yeah yeah okay,” he brushes you off and you hum, cheeks tinged a bit from what you’d said.

“what?” gojo blurts.

“none of your business,” you huff, waving a hand over your shoulder bidding the boys farewell as you disappear out the door.

gojo is already on his feet grabbing his duffle. “what’d she say, man?”

sukuna just snorts, shaking his head. “stupid ass shit.”

“i wanna know though,” gojo whines, “did she say not to talk about it? does she have weird kinks? are you gonna sleep with each other again?”

“yeah later today,” sukuna yawns, heading into the kitchen to grab a celsius. leaving gojo and geto even more lost.

the entire walk to practice gojo was trying to guess what you’d whispered to sukuna. even geto curiously guessed a few times, but sukuna just put his headphones on flipping them off.

please don’t tell them i haven’t had sex in year, i for real won’t hear the end of it.

sukuna laughs again at what you’d whispered. you guys didn’t talk about whether you’re gonna tell anyone or how long this thing is gonna go for. is it problem if he tells gojo and geto you guys have a friends-with-benefits thing going on? the last thing sukuna would want is any confusion.

so when he’s texting you to come over later that day, and easily tugs you up to his room, unbothered by the looks gojo and geto shoot his way.

he’s already undressing you and fucking you with a condom (sigh), when he voices some more conditions.

“y’r okay if i tell the guys we just fuck, right?” he pants over you, humming in pleasure when you gasp, his cock hitting your sweet spot.

“y-yeah, angh! i told shoko an’ hime already,” you whine.

“shit, for real?” he grunts, glancing down at his fat cock stretching you open with each mean thrust.

“yeah! angh yesyes—“ you’re already cumming, and sukuna can’t help his chest from swelling.

it’s not new being praised in bed, but it’s slightly more validating coming from someone who got fucked so rough last night, and still showed up in his bed the next day. any sane person would want a few days before riding that same mean horse.

but you’re here. under him again. letting him go just as hard as he pleases. eyes filling up with tears again, and his cock is swelling even more.

“angh!” you gasp. the sound he still hasn’t gotten used too, the softness going straight to his pulsing cock. “r-ryo haah s’ getting big—“

your moan breaks off, lips melding with his as you gasp, feeling him press a hand behind your back, arching you into his chest, as he hits deeper, kissing your cervix.

after another round, you’re panting against his shoulder, both of you catching your breath as your phone buzzes.

“yeah?” you croak out, listening to utahime ramble on, before ending with you should come over. and you hum, telling her you’ll be there in thirty.

“leaving?” sukuna watches you sit up, smirk pulling on his lips when you pause for a second to gain some feeling in your shaky legs.

“yeah, gonna sleep over at hime’s place,” you wobble to the bathroom, cleaning yourself off, before waddling back to the bedroom, sukuna is still lazing on his bed, arm behind his head as scrolls through his phone.

“should we set an end date for this?” you ask, your voice slightly softer as you pick your panties up off the floor. eyes hesitant to look at him, not wanting to pressure him—

“your call, I’m good till whenever,” sukuna shrugs, itching his sweaty chest. and it takes him aback seeing your dazzling eyes all bright and happy. “you needa stop doin’ that,” he snorts.

“smiling?”

“no, acting like i fucking bought you a puppy.”

“but this is better than a puppy!” you clasp your hands together in gratitude. sliding your panties on.

he scoffs, loud, rolling his eyes. “when’re you gonna take the birth control.”

you roll your eyes, “soon, no rushing me. it’s my body.”

“yeah,” he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, waving you off. “pretty sure you were whining in my ear earlier when i said i could stuff my cum in ya if it wasn’t for the shitty condoms.”

you tch, cheeks stinging, “I’ll let you know when we can toss the condoms.” your hand presses against one cheek, getting even more bashful when you how hot it is.

sukuna bites down, jaw clenching and hand flexing because you look so fucking cute pouting at him like that. heat spreads across his chest feeling it twist inside him when your eyes find his again. his throat goes dry when your glossy bitten lips part.

“I’ve never not used condoms before….but uh… i do wanna know what it feels like…for you to cum in me.”

shit.

it’s the wording. the expression. the cute ass pout. and it’s the way your eyes are avoiding his. all of it just made what you said a thousand times more lewd and intimate, and he couldn’t help the way his face goes red. a hot jolt going straight to his cock.

“yeah, whatever,” he shoos you, rubbing the itch in his chest as he stands up. “go before ya miss your bus.”

you hum, blushing just a bit when you see him try to cover his cock. you grab your bag. “cya!”

it’a funny. honestly. your dynamic just goes hand and hand. like two peas in a pod. without even trying.

the week of spring break, you can say, was one of the best weeks in a long time. it’s like you’d never had sex before sukuna.

he’s rough and mean, but you didn’t mind it. you actually like it more and more. and what makes it even better is that it’s so fucking easy. you guys don’t even fuck everyday, the second half of the week he said he was going back home, and your sister was visiting in that time.

neither you or sukuna can blame yourselves when you’re itching to see the other again. its definitely an addiction.

but it is just sex.

and yet, the week back from break, sukuna notices you sitting in the campus courtyard with an unfamiliar man. his jaw clenches momentarily, hand freezing around his lighter as his eyes narrow.

you lean over to brush some leaf off the guy’s hair still speaking—

“hey,” his low voice startles you, turning around to see his cold expression, hand deep in his pockets, while the other holding his unlit cigarette, eyeing the man across from you.

“hey!” you seem to immediately light up, not that he notices a difference in your attitude. you always act like that.

you don’t notice the intimidating expression he’s giving your companion. “this is zain, my cousin. zain, this is ryomen, he’s my lab partner in bio chem,” you easily introduce the two, unphased when sukuna’s shoulders seem to relax and he greets the man with a head nod. uninterested.

neither of you think twice about that interaction again. even if your cousin does.

but maybe things start to get confusing a few weeks later. when the frat decides to throw a party for the start of the warm weather.

you’re arriving a little late, having to submit your paper before coming. utahime and shoko are already inside when step up the sidewalk, body freezing when you hear shouting.

you turn at the familiar voice.

glancing over your shoulder, your eyes narrow when you spot sukuna across the street. “what the..” you step forward, trying to get a look at who he’s shouting at. probably one of the poor pledges. but instead you see a woman. dark short hair, and sunken eyes—

“how many fucking times do i have to say it!” you hear him shout.

your hand grasps your bag a little tighter. you’d never seen him that angry. his back is heaving, arms flailing as the woman spoke. you can’t make out what she’s saying, only hearing sukuna’s loud response. “fuck off before I fucking call the cops for trespassing,” he snaps.

eyes crazed with anger he turns back to the house, noticing you in seconds. your lips part in shock, registering a bit too late that you’d been so obviously eavesdropping, and it doesn’t help either that sukuna is heading straight towards you.

“hey-“

“how long were you listening?” he barks, eyes dark, gripping your bicep to pull you away from the sidewalk, and on the frat’s property.

“not long,” you shake your head. he scrutinizes your reply. “for real, i just got here and noticed you…shouting.”

“shouting what?” he snaps back.

your face is hot, heart hammering with anxiety. “uh something about how many times, then fuck you,” you repeat his words, “I didn’t hear what the other person said, it was too quiet…for real.”

your eyes glance up at his, arm flexing in his grasp before he ultimately loosens his grip. his jaw locks, glancing over his shoulder like he’s being watched. but turns back, rubbing his nose.

“are you okay?” you’re cautious, voice low. “who was that?”

“no one.”

chills run down your spine. his expression stern, cold, jaw locked, and brows knit. but you nod, hand wrapping around his wrist gentle, but hesitate. “let’s go inside then.”

he doesn’t reply, but he lets you lead him back into the frat. drunken college students dancing, and music blasting. he notices the way you try to sneak a peak at the woman when you’re at the door, but you couldn’t find her.

“keep walking,” he grunts.

your eyes flick over to him, a flash of confused concern washing over you, but you turn around, keeping a grip on his wrist. his hand eventually leaves yours, and goes to your waist, his lips coming over your shoulder, and breath fanning against your ear.

“upstairs,” his voice is gruff, the underlying anger still evident as he squeezes your waist, before adding, “if you’re down right now?”

your throat goes dry, heart hammering. “yeah, let’s go.”

but your mind wanders off to that woman again. you aren’t doing it on purpose, but it’s hard not to think about the way sukuna was shouting. his hands balled into fists, and he was practically heaving by the time he turned around.

if you didn’t know him, you would’ve ran away.

he looked terrifying.

“fuck—“ his abs clench, drilling a hole in your cervix with every sharp thrust from behind. your back arches, nails digging into the sheets, until you’re both climaxing.

his low groan fills your ear, lips parting as you catch your breath.

it helps that you’re exhausted so you didn’t question the way he’s practically hugging you, pressing his face to your nape.

“was I too rough?” he mutters, exhausted.

you shake your head, exhaling softly. “jus’ a little,” you admit.

sukuna carefully pulls out, tossing the used condom on the floor, before falling beside you. his tatted arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against his chest, spooning you so close you can’t help but sink into the sheets.

“ryo?”

he grunts, warm breath fanning against your bare shoulder.

“are you okay?”

your heart beats quickly, eyes half lidded as you look at the window beside the bed, nail picking at the sheets. sukuna shifts behind you, pressing his leg between yours, hand splayed on your belly holding you closer to his chest, if that’s even possible.

“s’ nothin’. so drop it,” his tone is cold, warning you not to cross. and you hate how it makes your chest tighten up. your lips part again, but only a quiet hums comes out. small hand closing over his, thumb brushing his cracked knuckles trying desperately to fall asleep.

but the uneasiness doesn’t go away, especially when sukuna ignores the way his phone is going off like crazy.

[11:28pm] coach shithead: answer the fucking phone asshole!!

next chapter || series masterlist

[a/n] — so their will be a second chapter, and maybe third, and maybe more, and some plot and some angst and some more smuuuut — i am just a mere girl w a new hyper fixation on frat!kuna and i humbly submit to it now, the plot won’t be too overwhelming, obv the focus will be on the tension b/w sukuna + reader :p

side note: i honest to god forgot where that header is from, I ss it like a year ago and it’s just been living in my drafts till now. I’ll look for it later tho!!

[sveraia]

"they're just allegations. right?" pt. 3 wherein the reader goes on a date and the boys discover they were much happier when it was only a hypothetical. tw : mutual pining, jealousy, denial, bruised egos, reader is having fun and that's somehow everyone's problem. part 1 part 2

a/n : FIRST OF ALL??? 😭

i genuinely did NOT expect this silly little series to blow up this much this quickly T_T thank you all so much for the likes, reblogs, comments, and for collectively enabling me.

i'm giving every single one of you a big fat wet kiss on the forehead.

ANYWAY. here's your highly requested part 3 tehehe <3

what do we think??? ++ i've looove jealousy, esp on jjk men ( yeah i need help, ik shush ) so im so so glad im getting to write more of these, im definitely thinking of a mini series just for jealous smaus hehe ++ feel free to drop your requests if you have any !

[liaaloops]

hate that i made you love me

cheater!gojo x f!reader

requests open!

The thing about Gojo Satoru is that he fills a room. Even when he isn’t trying to, his cursed energy, his height, his laugh—it all just expands until there’s no oxygen left for anyone else.

You spent years being grateful just to breathe his secondhand air.

But tonight, the apartment feels entirely empty, even though he’s sitting right across from you at the kitchen island. The six eyes are hidden behind his dark sunglasses, but you don’t need to see his eyes to know he isn’t really here. He hasn’t been here in months.

"Satoru," you say, your voice barely scraping past the lump in your throat.

"Hmm?" He doesn’t look up from his phone. His thumb flickers across the screen, a small, private smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It’s the kind of smile he used to give you when you first started dating—back when he looked at you like you were the only exception to his solitary godhood.

Lately, that look belongs to notifications. To late-night "missions" that don't quite line up with the jujutsu society logs. To the faint scent of a perfume that doesn't belong to you, clinging to the collar of his high-necked uniform when he stumbles home at 3 AM.

"Look at me. Please."

The please is what does it. It’s too raw, too broken. Satoru pauses, his thumb freezing over the glass screen. Slowly, he slides the sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, revealing those impossibly bright, sky-blue eyes. They are beautiful. They are also entirely unreadable.

"What's wrong, babe?" he asks, his tone dripping with that casual, effortless charm. The kind he uses to deflect everything serious. "You look like you're about to give a eulogy."

"Am I enough for you?"

The question hangs in the air, heavy and pathetic. You hate how small your voice sounds. You hate how your hands are trembling in your lap. You’ve spent the last six months convincing yourself you were just being paranoid, that Satoru was just busy, that a man like him just commands attention from everyone. You told yourself that your insecurities—the ones that whispered you were too ordinary, too fragile, too much of a footnote in his grand story—were just demons of your own making.

But you saw the texts yesterday. You saw the way he laughed at a voice note from a name you didn't recognize, the way he hastily locked his screen when you walked into the room.

Satoru’s smile fades. The playful glint in his eyes dies out, replaced by something heavy. Something like pity.

"Where is this coming from?" he asks softly. He reaches across the marble countertop to take your hand, but you pull away. His fingers twitch, grasping at nothing, before dropping back to his side.

"Don't do that," you whisper, a tear finally slipping down your cheek. "Don't act like you don't know. I’m not stupid, Satoru. I’ve just been quiet. Because I was terrified that if I brought it up, you’d leave."

He doesn't deny it.

That’s the exact moment your heart shatters into a million jagged pieces. If he had argued, if he had gotten defensive, if he had laughed it off and called you crazy—you might have clung to the lie. But he just sits there, looking at you with a profound, quiet guilt.

"You're the strongest man alive," you choke out, the words tasting like copper and grief. "You can manipulate space and time, but you couldn't just tell me the truth? You couldn't just tell me you were bored of me?"

"I’m not bored of you," he says quickly, his voice dropping an octave. There's a rare panic bleeding into his features now. He slides off the barstool, stepping closer to you, but the infinity between you feels miles wide right now. "Hey. Look at me. I love you. You know I love you."

"Then why do I feel like a ghost in my own home?" you sob, finally looking right into those limitless eyes. "Why do I check my reflection and wonder what she has that I don't? Why do I have to beg for a text back while you’re out giving pieces of yourself to everyone else?"

Your voice cracks on the word everyone.

"Satoru, I changed everything about myself to fit into your world. I shrank myself down so I wouldn't get in your way. I accepted the crumbs you gave me because I thought... I thought being loved by Gojo Satoru meant I had to suffer a little bit. Because you're a god, right? And gods are selfish."

Satoru looks like he's been struck. The man who cannot be touched by any weapon looks entirely defenseless. He reaches out again, and this time, he doesn't let you pull away. His large, warm hands cup your face, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears pouring down your cheeks. His touch is so gentle, so devastatingly familiar, that it makes you cry harder.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his forehead coming down to rest against yours. His breath is shaky. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

"Did you sleep with her?" The question is a whisper against his lips.

Satoru closes his eyes. He doesn't answer.

And there it is. The silence that confirms every nightmare you've had for the past half-year.

You pull your face out of his hands. The loss of his warmth leaves you shivering. You take a step back, wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeve, feeling a strange, hollow numbness take over where the panic used to be.

"You're a monster," you whisper, not with anger, but with a profound sadness.

Satoru stands there, his arms hanging uselessly at his sides. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks small. He looks like a boy who broke his favorite toy and realizes he doesn't know how to put the pieces back together.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he says, and for once, he sounds completely stripped of his arrogance. He sounds entirely human. "I don't... I don't know how to do this right. I don't know how to be what you need. I have everything, but I don't know how to keep the things that actually matter."

He takes a shaky breath, looking at your tear-stained face, at the way your shoulders are hunched, trying to protect yourself from him.

"I'm sorry," Satoru whispers, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "I'm so sorry I made you love me."

You look at him, the man you gave your whole heart to, the man who used his infinity to keep the world out, but used it to keep you out, too.

"So am I," you say softly.

And as you turn around to walk into the bedroom to pack your bags, you realize the worst part of it all: even now, broken and humiliated, a part of you still wishes he would use his power to make you stay.

[gojosmoonlight]

part 5

series masterlist

a/n: i just want to say thank you for the kofi donations! if you don’t know im trying to save up for a computer! so thank you guys for even clicking! you don’t have to but if you want here’s the link.

a/n: i love interacting with you guys. yall are so funny. i genuinely check my phone 24/7 to see who commented or sent something to my mailbox. i love you guys !!

Yuta POV

“Get up!”

My lips were mere inches away from touching Maki's.

My shirt collar was suddenly yanked upward, catching me completely off guard and forcing me to stumble backward. I'd been so focused on Maki that I hadn't even noticed someone approaching behind me.

The next thing I knew, I was on the ground. Pain shot through my tailbone as I hit the pavement, and the rain came down relentlessly, drenching me within seconds. Raising an arm to shield my eyes, I looked up…and immediately regretted it.

Standing over me was my sensei.

Satoru Gojo.

He crouched down to my level, a deep scowl etched across his face."Why the hell do I have to come all the way back to Tokyo just to drag your ass to Osaka for a mission?" he snapped. "I've gotten thousands of phone calls about this drama, Yuta."

He jabbed a finger at my chest. "You should've been in Osaka hours ago."

My eyes flickered toward Maki before returning to him."Sorry. I got caught up." My voice sounded weak even to me. "I was heading there, but I wanted to see (Y/N) first..."

Gojo slowly lowered his glasses, revealing piercing blue eyes that felt capable of seeing straight through me. His gaze shifted toward Maki, lingered for a moment, then returned to me. "That's not (Y/N), you idiot."

"I kno—"

Before I could finish, his hand shot forward, grabbing my collar again and slamming me back against the nearest wall. The impact knocked the air from my lungs. I immediately grabbed at his wrist, trying to pry him off, but it was pointless.

Gojo was rarely angry.

Annoyed? Sure.

Sarcastic? Constantly.

But genuinely pissed?

Almost never.

Which meant I had seriously screwed up. I felt like a teen again, but not in a good way. 

“Maki, go home.” He says without looking at her. “I need to deal with Yuta myself.” 

~~~ (y/n) pov~~~

The drive was long, but thankfully quiet.

At some point, the anger that had consumed you during your argument with Yuta had settled into something heavier. The betrayal was still there, lodged deep in your chest, refusing to fade. If anything, it had only grown stronger after he left. After he walked away. After he didn't turn around, even when you were screaming his name.

He ran to Maki.

Maybe he would never admit it out loud, but you knew where his mind had been. If he had wanted to, he could have stopped. He could have taken a breath, cooled off, and talked to you the way a husband should. Instead, he did what he always did.

He ran.

Yuta had a habit of running from his problems rather than facing them, and this time was no different.

You let out a tired sigh as your car slowly made its way down the road leading into the Zenin Estate. It had been years since you'd last been here, probably not since you were a teenager.

Megumi had never been the type to enjoy having people over. After the downfall of the Zenin Clan, he had spent years rebuilding it from the ground up. Honestly, he never struck you as the type to become a clan leader. He was too laid-back, too uninterested in status and tradition.

Yet somehow, he'd excelled at it.

While Megumi preferred to keep a low profile, he was involved in every aspect of the clan's restoration. Under his leadership, the Zenin Clan had been completely modernized, blending tradition with practicality in a way few people could have managed. It was honestly impressive.

The car finally came to a stop.

You stepped outside and were immediately greeted by the relentless rain. The cold droplets soaked through your clothes within seconds. Pulling your arms over your head in a futile attempt to shield yourself, you hurried up the stone pathway and sprinted toward the estate's front steps.

The moment you reached the door, the locks clicked one after another before it swung open from the inside. A woman with a warm smile greeted you from the doorway. You barely had time to knock on the door. 

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I'm here to see Megumi."

"Oh!" Her face immediately brightened. "He's been expecting you."

You stepped inside, slipping off your shoes as you spoke. “Thank you.”

She stepped aside to let you pass before motioning for you to follow. "Come with me. I'll take you to his room."

You nodded and followed her through the estate, taking in the familiar yet strangely different surroundings. The traditional architecture remained, but modern touches had been woven throughout the halls—a reflection of Megumi himself. Practical, efficient, and completely uninterested in preserving tradition for tradition's sake.

"He's been expecting me?" A small smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it.

The words lingered in your mind as you followed her through the estate. It was strange. You couldn't quite explain why that simple phrase affected you so much. It wasn't romantic or profound, it was such a small thing.

Yet it made something in your chest soften.

Maybe it was because someone had been looking forward to seeing you. Maybe it was because your arrival mattered to someone. Or maybe it was because, after months of feeling alone in your marriage, it was nice to know someone actually wanted you there.

The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth.

For so long, it had felt like you were fighting for scraps of Yuta's attention. There was always something else demanding his focus, a mission, a problem, another responsibility. And when things became difficult between the two of you, he pulled away instead of drawing closer.

You'd spent months standing out in the cold, waiting for him to meet you halfway. So hearing that Megumi had been expecting you shouldn't have meant anything.

And yet, somehow, it did.

It felt warm.

A warmth you hadn't realized you'd been missing until now.

The woman led you deeper into the estate before stopping outside a large wooden door. "He's inside," she said with a small smile.

You thanked her quietly and turned your attention toward the door, your hand hovering over the handle for a moment before you finally knocked.

Without giving yourself another chance to overthink it, you knocked on the door.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then you heard movement from inside—the faint rustling of footsteps and shifting furniture. A second later, the door opened.

Megumi stood in the doorway.

The moment he saw you, something in his expression softened. His eyes brightened, and a small, lazy smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I thought you would've canceled."

"No." You exhaled slowly, trying to keep your emotions from spilling over. "I needed to get out of that house."

Understanding flickered across his face. Without another question, he stepped aside and opened the door wider. "Well, you're always welcome here." His voice was gentle, reassuring. "If you ever need a safe place to go."

The sincerity behind his words made your chest tighten.

"Thank you."

You offered him a small smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes, and stepped inside.

The room was far different from what most people would expect from a clan leader's private quarters.

It barely felt like a bedroom at all.

Instead, it resembled a spacious office that happened to have a place to sleep.

A large couch stretched along one wall beneath an expansive floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the estate's gardens. Despite the rain outside, the view was still beautiful, the greenery swaying beneath the storm. Across the room sat a massive desk covered with neatly organized documents, folders, and stacks of paperwork—evidence of the endless responsibilities that came with leading an entire clan.

The space was clean, practical, and completely free of unnecessary decoration.

Very Megumi.

You found yourself glancing around the room for a moment longer than necessary, appreciating the quiet atmosphere. For the first time all day, the knot in your chest loosened ever so slightly.

“Hungry?” Megumi asked, glancing over at you. “I can have someone make you something.”

You sank onto the couch and pulled one of his pillows into your lap, hugging it against yourself. “Ramen would be nice. That rain was freezing.”

Megumi nodded as he sat down beside you, pulling out his phone. “Anything else?”

“No.” A soft, breathless laugh slipped past your lips. “I’m just happy to be out of that house. I know I keep saying it, but…” You shook your head. “It’s nice not being constantly reminded of everything.”

Megumi's thumbs paused over his screen. He looked up, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before dropping back to his phone.

“I don't want to come on too strong,” he said quietly, “but if you need somewhere to stay for a few days, you're welcome to stay here.” He glanced back at you. “I can have a room prepared for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at the raven-haired man. Was he serious?

A warm feeling spread through your chest, small but undeniable. There had been so many nights when you felt completely alone, convinced there was no one you could turn to or confide in. But now, sitting here beside Megumi, that loneliness didn't feel quite as overwhelming.

A smile tugged at your lips. “I might have to take you up on that offer.”

“Really?”Megumi's own smile appeared as he set his phone down beside him, giving you his full attention for the first time since the conversation began.

“Just so you're prepared,” he said, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice, “Yuji's been staying here too.”

Your eyebrows lifted. “So it'd be quite the reunion.”

Megumi laughed. “It would be. He's in the middle of moving into a house, so he'll be here for a while.” A small grin tugged at his lips. “It'll be fun. Almost like we're in high school again.”

You laughed softly, your mind immediately drifting back to those days.

Back when it was just you, Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara.

The four of you would spend entire afternoons together, eating greasy burgers and staying up far too late. Well, "telling ghost stories" was a generous way to describe it. Most nights consisted of Yuji desperately trying to scare everyone while the rest of you sat there completely unimpressed.

Still, they were some of your favorite memories.

Back then, everything felt simpler.

You had friends—real friends. The kind who showed up when you needed them, who understood you without explanation, who made even the worst days feel manageable.

Then Shibuya happened.

And after that, everything changed.

Yuji left the country to focus on his mental health. Megumi threw himself into rebuilding the Zenin Clan. Nobara moved back to the countryside. She still visited whenever she could, but it wasn't nearly as often as before.

As for you, you found yourself growing closer to your seniors.

Yuta. Maki. Panda. Inumaki.

Somewhere along the way, friendship with Yuta became something more. Months of dating turned into marriage, and for a long time, those years felt like the happiest of your life.

You had been a wife.

You had built a future with him.

And while everyone had drifted onto different paths, you always believed the bond between all of you would remain intact.

Life had changed, but the friendships survived.

At least, that's what you thought.

Now, sitting on Megumi's couch with your marriage falling apart around you, you couldn't help but wonder when exactly everything had started slipping through your fingers.

“(Y/N), get out of your head.” Megumi's voice pulled you from your thoughts. “You're only going to spiral.”

You leaned your head back against the couch and let out a quiet sigh. “Actually, I wasn't thinking about Yuta.”

Megumi glanced over at you. “No?”

You shook your head. “I was thinking about us.”

His brows pulled together. “Us?”

You turned to face him, a small smile tugging at your lips.“Our younger years. Back when we were all ridiculously close. Remember when we'd randomly show up at Gojo's house and end up sleeping in his living room?”

A faint laugh escaped him.“I remember. Back when nothing really mattered.”

“Exactly.”

The conversation faded, leaving a comfortable silence in its place. Together, you stared out the large windows as rain streaked down the glass. Neither of you felt the need to fill the silence. Instead, you sat there reminiscing about simpler times, days filled with late-night conversations, stupid arguments, and the certainty that no matter what happened, you'd all find your way back to each other.

The memory settled warmly in your chest. It was a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time.

Megumi's phone suddenly buzzed, startling both of you. He picked it up and glanced at the screen. “Your ramen's ready.”

A genuine smile spread across your face.“I can go grab it. You've already done enough for me, Megumi.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You pushed yourself off the couch. “Just tell me where the kitchen is.”

Megumi nodded.“Go straight down this hall until you reach the end, then make a right and keep going until you hit another hallway. The kitchen's at the very end.”

“That sounds unnecessarily complicated.”

“It probably is,” he admitted.

You laughed.

“If you get lost, just ask someone,” he added. “Everyone here is pretty friendly. They'll point you in the right direction.”

“Good to know.”

With one last smile, you headed toward the hallway, following Megumi's directions as the smell of warm broth already began to drift through the house.

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket, a text message from Yuta. That same anxious feeling that was in your chest this morning returned. Fuck, you stared at the screen, debating if you should open it. Was it worth it? I mean, you had finally found some sense of peace with everything. 

Too busy with your phone, you had bumped into someone. Your eyes glanced up at the person, “Maki…”

You both stood in the hall frozen, staring at one another. 

You didn't even see the slap coming. One second she was standing there, and the next, the sharp sting spread through your palm. You glanced down at your hand. Your skin was red, throbbing from the impact. Your body had moved before your mind could catch up.

You had slapped her.

And honestly? It felt good.

This was the first time you’d seen her since Nanami's party. Funny, considering she always seemed to know exactly where Yuta was. Even funnier was the fact that she'd never once apologized for everything she'd done, especially for confessing her love to my husband.

Your jaw tightened, my fingers curling into a fist. Part of you wanted to do a lot more than slap her. The collective gasps echoing through the hallway pulled you back to reality. Slowly, you lifted your gaze. Maki stood frozen, one hand pressed against her reddening cheek where you had struck her. Shock flashed across her face.

You took a step closer, a strange sense of confidence settling over you. “If you thought for even a second that I wouldn't put my hands on you, then you're sadly mistaken.” Your voice came out cold and steady. “I should beat your ass right here in front of everyone.”

You paused, letting the words hang in the air. “But I won't. I'll let karma handle that for me, Maki.”

Brushing past her shoulder, you started walking back toward Megumi's room. You appetite was completely gone. After a few steps, you stopped. A bitter laugh escaped you as you turned slightly. “And if you honestly think Yuta loves you, you're wrong.”

The hallway fell silent.

“If he did, he would've chosen you. He would've married you.” You shook your head. “Maybe you knew him first. Maybe you shared things with him when you were younger. But there are parts of him you'll never have.” 

Your eyes locked onto hers.“You'll never know the version of him that comes home to me. The version that trusts me with his fears, his dreams, his heart.” 

A humorless smile tugged at your lips. “You can spend the rest of your life chasing what we have, but you'll never get it.” You turned away again. “Because at the end of the day, he chose me.”

“He’ll never make love to you the way he makes love to me. You’ll never get that side of him. You’ll never experience his love at its purest because he gave it all to me, Maki.” 

“Funny how you’re using this time to have him replaced. You’re not better than me. You can’t wreck a home that isn’t a home.” She shouted. “It was never yours to begin with.” 

“That's funny coming from the woman who had to settle for being someone's secret.” You stopped walking, shaking your head. “You keep talking about what was mine, but at the end of the day, he stood in front of me, not you. He chose me, not you. If the home wasn't real, then why were you spending all this time trying to break into it?”

“But if that's true, then congratulations. You spent all this time fighting for something that was never yours either.” The smile faded.“Because a man who belongs to someone doesn't cheat. And a man who cheats doesn't belong to anyone.”

“What the fuck do you know!?” Maki sneered, and she stormed up to you, mere inches away from your face. “You don’t know anything.” 

“Back off.” You said quietly. “I know that Yuta keeps me around, unlike you. He tossed you away pretty fast to marry me.” You laugh, stepping closer to her. “I’d be pissed too if I wasn’t getting fucked by Yuta.” 

The left side of your face stung as Maki's slap landed. For a moment, everything went still. It didn't hurt nearly as much as it should have. If anything, it only fueled the anger already boiling inside you.

Your hand shot forward before you could stop yourself, tangling in her dark hair. Maki let out a sharp gasp as you yanked her head back, forcing her to meet your glare. The room seemed to narrow around the two of you. Every ounce of frustration, betrayal, and resentment that had been building for months surged to the surface.

Without thinking, you drew your arm back and swung. The impact snapped her head to the side. 

Silence followed.

Heavy. Suffocating.

The kind of silence that came when there was no taking something back.

It lasted all of two seconds.

Maki pushed herself upright and came at you again. Her fist flew toward your face, but you managed to turn away just in time. The punch barely grazed you.

The kick was another story. You never saw it coming. Pain exploded through your stomach as her leg connected, knocking the air from your lungs. You doubled over instinctively, fighting to catch your breath as your abdomen throbbed.

Maki seized the opportunity. Her hand fisted in the front of your shirt, yanking you forward in an attempt to drag you to the ground. Your survival instincts kicked in before you could think. You drove your arm upward, forcing her to release her grip and stumble back.

Both of you immediately put distance between yourselves. Your stomach ached with every breath, but the adrenaline kept you standing. You straightened slowly, wiping at the corner of your mouth before fixing her with a cold stare. A humorless laugh escaped you. “For someone from the Zenin Clan,” you said, your voice dripping with mockery, “you sure lack curse energy. It would be unfair for me to use my cursed energy on you. It’ll be a waste to use it on you.”

A wicked smile spread across Maki's face. “Don't get too confident,” she said, rolling her shoulders. “We're just getting started.”

“STOP!” Megumi's voice thundered through the hallway.

Both of you turned as he stormed toward the scene, fury written across his face.

“Maki, what the hell is wrong with you?” he barked.

Maki rolled her eyes, completely unimpressed. “Stay out of it, Megumi. This has nothing to do with you.”

Megumi let out a sharp laugh.“Nothing to do with me?” He gestured around him. “You're attacking a guest in my home. It has everything to do with me.”

“She’s fucking insane,” you muttered, still trying to steady your breathing.

Maki immediately pointed at you. “Says the one who slapped me first.”

“Because you deserved it, bitch.”

Megumi dragged a hand down his face. “Unbelievable.”

His gaze moved between the two of you. “(Y/N) go back to my office.” 

You huffed, every muscle in your body still tense with anger. The only reason you were walking away was because Megumi had asked you to. If it had been anyone else, you wouldn't have listened.

Your stomach still ached from Maki's kick, and your cheek stung faintly from her slap, but neither compared to the fury simmering beneath your skin. The argument, the accusations, the audacity of her showing up here, it all replayed in your mind with every step.

You shot one final glare over your shoulder. Maki was still standing where you left her, looking just as furious.

She should consider herself lucky Megumi stepped in when he did.

Tearing your eyes away from her, you turned and headed down the hallway. The sound of your footsteps echoed through the estate as you tried—and failed—to calm yourself down.

A few moments later, you heard another set of footsteps behind you.

Megumi.

Neither of you spoke right away.

The silence stretched between you until you finally reached his office. You pushed the door open and stepped inside, immediately sinking onto the couch with a frustrated groan.

Megumi closed the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment. His eyes traveled over your face, taking in the reddening mark on your cheek and the anger you were still barely containing.

Then he sighed.

“You know,” he said, crossing his arms, “most people don't start fistfights within an hour of arriving at my house.”

You stared at him for a beat before letting out a reluctant laugh. “Most people don't invite Maki Zenin into their house.”

To your surprise, the corner of Megumi's mouth twitched upward.

And for the first time since arriving, some of the tension in your chest began to ease.

tags: @733164 @alebrasil0101 @angelicarlert @arosier123 @actuallyshard @bumi-writes @bigbadbromance @camelliablossomss @chanyeolchannie @chicaaaaaquedices @ephemeress @ellqm @hiqhkey @hoodiegirleats @hheerrmmiitt @igot-thatdoginme @istr4wberri @icyshadewhisper @iman-lu @justmare @kvmariiii @kranktruther @love-d-luxe @luvrs-isle @marixxi @miuangel @maddy24207 @nocturnalnightwing @ni-kism @onigiribowl @onlytenkos @ruthlesslywhimsicalmentor @saltedfart @shannxnbrxwnn-blog @shellseasdiscoparty @shesafreakygurl @shmd-nora @starringrcll @staraura4 @sovereigntyangel @sourdough-brad @silastwo @trasshy-artist @un-nmed @velvetsbakery @withluvfremi @xavierslvtt

[xenop0p]

This is getting juicy

[cumironi]

we were just one breath too late. . .

feat. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna, shiu, higuruma

sum. what’s the worst thing someone could say to you before you die? “i don’t want to see you again. . .” is that worse enough? will they feel guilty? sorry? or relief? maybe your boyfriend can answer that. . . maybe not.

wn. non-sorcerer au, angst no comfort, themes of death, fatal accidents, emotional and verbal arguments, intense grief, survivor’s guilt, and heavy angst. it includes depictions of emotional trauma, blood, physical injury, and reunion in the afterlife. there are also mentions of alcohol use, self-blame, and spiritual imagery. reader discretion is advised.

GOJO SATORU

it started like every other argument.

small.

stupid.

avoidable.

but tonight, something inside both of you snapped.

you stood under a streetlight, the flickering bulb overhead casting harsh shadows on gojo’s sharp features. the city buzzed around you — car horns, footsteps, laughter in the distance — but between you two, it was silent. thick. suffocating.

“you forgot again,” you said quietly, arms folded across your chest. “my presentation. i told you about it three times. you promised you'd come.” gojo tilted his head back with a heavy sigh. he looked tired. not just physically — but in the bones, in the heart. “i got caught up at work,” he muttered, avoiding your eyes. “it was one meeting after another—”

“you always get caught up!” your voice cracked. “it’s always ‘meetings’ or ‘clients’ or some emergency that somehow always matters more than me.”

he flinched. “that’s not fair.”

“no, what’s not fair is being in love with someone who’s never here!” you shouted, tears brimming at your lashes. “i come home to an empty apartment. i fall asleep alone. i eat dinner alone. i show up to events alone. i’m starting to forget what it feels like to be in a relationship, satoru.”

he looked at you like you had physically struck him. his mouth opened, then closed. then he laughed — not out of amusement, but disbelief. “you think i don’t feel like shit about it?” he said bitterly. “you think i like missing everything? i’m doing this for us, dammit! so we have a future—”

“a future doesn’t matter if there’s nothing left of us to share it with!” you screamed.

silence.

your chest heaved as your words hung in the air between you like shattered glass. “god,” gojo muttered, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t even know who i’m talking to anymore.”

you took a step back. “what the hell does that mean?”

he looked at you with eyes that had stopped shining. “you’re not the same. you’re not the girl i fell in love with.”

you went still.

your mouth parted, breath catching in your throat. “and you’re not the man i thought you were.”

he exhaled, long and low, like he’d been holding it for years. then he turned — really turned — like he was walking out of your life. “maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “maybe it’s better if we just stop pretending.”

then —

“i don’t want to see you again.”

you stood frozen, heart cracking open like a dam, pain gushing out too fast to stop. “don’t say that,” you begged. “satoru, don’t walk away. please—”

but he did.

without looking back.

and you, like an idiot, chased him. just one more step. one more call. one more plea to make him stop.

you never made it past the street.

the screech of tires.

a horn.

then nothing.

just blood. just broken bones. just cold

when gojo got the call, he laughed. he thought it was a sick joke. he even yelled at the nurse for wasting his time. then they said your name again, and it broke something in him. he drove faster than he ever had, broke every law just to get to the hospital. burst through the ER doors. his eyes scanned for you, desperate, deranged, refusing to believe—

“sir,” the nurse said gently, “she didn’t make it.”

his heart stopped.

he stumbled into the room where they kept your body, untouched, still, and when he pulled back the sheet—

he collapsed.

“no,” he whispered, gripping your cold hand. “no, no, no, no, no. this isn’t— this isn’t how it ends. wake up. baby, please—” he shook. sobbed. screamed into your chest like it would bring you back.

but you never breathed again.

six months later

he didn’t touch his apartment. not even your toothbrush. your shoes still sat by the door. your coffee mug still rested on the windowsill. your scent — faint but present — still haunted the sheets. he refused to let anyone clean anything.

he quit his job.

what was the point?

he started walking at night. hours and hours, mind blank, waiting for exhaustion to swallow him whole. he talked to you. out loud. sometimes on street corners. sometimes at the cemetery, where your grave sat covered in your favorite flowers. sometimes on the balcony, where you used to watch sunsets.

he stopped laughing.

stopped smiling.

stopped seeing color.

“i didn’t mean it,” he’d whisper to the wind, voice breaking. “i didn’t mean any of it. you were everything. i was just scared.”

he stopped answering friends.

he deleted your number, but memorized it anyway.

he called it sometimes, just to hear your voicemail.

“hey, it’s me,” he’d say to the beep, voice trembling. “i saw that commercial you liked. you would’ve laughed so hard. i— i miss you. i’m sorry. i’ll always be sorry.”

he kept a picture of you in his wallet.

folded, creased, worn from fingers that touched it every night. some days he’d imagine what life would’ve been if he just turned around that night. if he hadn’t said those words. if he had listened. if he had held you. if he had said sorry.

you haunted him.

not the ghost kind.

the kind that lingered in quiet moments.

in the smell of your shampoo.

in the old voice memos.

in the way his heart still reached for you, even now.

he never dated again. never loved again. never even tried. because you were the only person he ever wanted to see. and he’d told you he didn’t want to. and fate, cruel and exact, listened.

GETO SUGURU

the air was heavy with the smell of early rain and city smoke, the kind of evening that felt unfinished — like something was waiting to be said. you stood under the gray sky with your arms crossed tight to your chest, and suguru stood across from you with that tired, worn expression, like he was already bracing for the worst.

“you forgot again,” you murmured, barely louder than the hush of cars passing behind you. he blinked, slow and distant, like he hadn’t quite heard. “forgot what?” you looked away, jaw tight. “my art show. it was today. i waited for you.”

there was a pause — long enough to bruise.

“shit,” he whispered, more to himself than to you, “i thought that was next week.”

you laughed. hollow. sharp. “you always think it’s next week.”

he looked at you then, really looked — and for a moment, he looked ashamed. but the wall went back up too quickly. it always did with him. he was too good at protecting what hurt. “i’ve been swamped with work,” he said, like it explained everything. “you know that.”

you turned to face him fully, eyes glinting beneath the streetlight, damp lashes trembling. “you’re always working, suguru. always somewhere else. i feel like i’m dating your shadow.”

he exhaled hard, ran a hand through his dark hair, gaze falling to the pavement. “i’m doing my best. this job— it’s not easy.”

“neither is loving someone who’s never really here.”

those words hit something. you saw it flicker in his expression — that small crack in the foundation. he looked up slowly, his voice a little sharper now. “so what, you’re blaming me for trying to build something stable? for trying to give us a future?”

“what future?” you asked. “one where i’m always waiting and you’re never coming home?”

“don’t twist it.”

“i’m not twisting anything. i’m lonely, suguru. i miss you even when you’re in the room.”

he went still.

then he laughed — bitter, tired, wrong.

“maybe we’ve outgrown each other,” he said softly. you stared at him, stunned silent. his next words were a whisper, like he hated them as they left his mouth. “maybe we’re better apart.”

you took a step forward, your voice trembling like wind-blown glass. “you don’t mean that.” he met your eyes. and this time, there was no anger. only something worse — resignation.

“i think i do.”

you swallowed hard, breath catching. “say it, then. if you want this to end, say it.”

and so he did.

“i don’t want to see you again.”

your heart cracked like the world had tilted.

and just like that —

he turned his back to you.

and walked away.

and you, still so foolish in love, stepped forward. just one step. just one more call of his name— you never made it across. the screech of tires split the quiet. a scream. a sharp thud. and then only silence.

he didn’t cry right away. not at the hospital. not at the funeral. not even when he kissed your forehead for the last time and felt the coldness seep into his bones. but he cried three days later, standing in the kitchen with two mugs in his hands — one yours. instinct, maybe. or hope. but your lips would never touch that cup again, and he crumbled right there, on the floor, hands shaking.

the grief did not come all at once. it came in waves.

in the quiet.

in the morning light that poured through your empty side of the bed. in the sound of your laugh from a video he couldn’t bring himself to delete.

he lived like a ghost of himself.

quiet. strange. slower.

he started talking to you like you were still around. “morning,” he’d whisper to the air, brushing his fingers over your pillow. “i saw someone today who looked like you.”

“i keep thinking i’ll see you walking home with that lopsided tote bag.”

he kept your lipstick on the windowsill.

your earrings in a dish by the sink.

your jacket still hanging by the door.

people told him he needed to let go. he never listened. he went to work. did his job. smiled when needed. but something in him had been buried with you. he stopped writing music.

stopped painting.

stopped dreaming.

and every year on the day he lost you, he would sit on the sidewalk where it happened. a small bouquet. your name whispered like a prayer. eyes searching the sky, as if you might still be in the clouds, watching.

“i didn’t mean it,” he says to the wind, year after year. “those words. that moment. if i could trade places with you, i would.” his heart, once full of poems and possibility, now only echoes with what-ifs and empty promises.

and true to his word—

he never saw you again.

not in dreams.

not in visions.

not even in passing strangers.

because sometimes, the cruelest part of love is that we don’t get to choose our last words. we only live with the ones we never got to take back.

NANAMI KENTO

you stood outside the station, the rain coming down like broken glass, your bag slung over your shoulder, and your heart barely stitched together. nanami stood in front of you, tall and tired, the collar of his coat soaked at the edges, eyes dim with something he refused to let show.

“you didn’t call,” you said quietly, voice catching in your throat. “you promised you would.”

he looked at you, unblinking. “i was working.”

“you’re always working, kento.”

“i have to.”

“no, you choose to.” you hugged yourself tighter, knuckles pale. “you choose your job. your schedule. your clients. you don’t choose me.” his jaw twitched, and he looked away for a moment. “you know it’s not that simple.”

you took a step closer, rain seeping into your shoes. “then explain it to me. help me understand why loving me always comes second.” he sighed, deep and worn. “i’m not young like you. i don’t get to drop everything for romance. i have responsibilities. deadlines. expectations.”

“and what am i, nanami?” you asked, voice breaking. “a weekend hobby? a luxury you squeeze into your planner when there’s nothing left to do?”

his silence hurt more than any answer.

you swallowed the lump in your throat, your hands trembling. “i waited for you at that little italian place. sat there like an idiot with a candle burning out.” he closed his eyes, rain dripping from his lashes. “i didn’t forget. i couldn’t leave the meeting. it was important.”

“more important than me?”

he didn’t answer.

and god, that was the answer.

“say it, kento. if you’re done, say it. if i’ve become another chore, say it and let me go.” he opened his mouth, hesitated—then, with a voice that cracked the world in two, “i don’t want to see you again.”

you flinched like he’d struck you.

he looked away. “you deserve someone with more time,” he added, quieter now. “someone who doesn’t disappoint you.” you shook your head slowly, eyes stinging. “but i don’t want someone else. i want you. even on your worst days. even when you’re tired. even when you forget.”

he turned his back.

and he walked away.

just like that. no final touch. no glance over the shoulder. and that’s when it happened.

you stepped off the curb too fast, still staring at the place where he used to be.

a shout.

a horn.

a metallic crash.

and the world blinked to white. they say it was instant. no pain. no time to speak. just silence and rain.

nanami got the call the next morning. his hands trembled, the receiver pressed too tightly to his ear. his coffee had gone cold on the table. he didn’t finish getting dressed that day.

at your funeral, he stood like stone. still. quiet. his eyes rimmed red, though no tears fell. he wasn’t the kind of man who cried where people could see. but he broke in the quiet. after that, everything dulled.

he went to work.

he ate his meals.

he paid his bills.

but he never bought another book. never returned to the coffee shop where you used to sit across from him, reading aloud the funny lines. never smiled without guilt biting at the edges. your number stayed in his phone. your toothbrush remained untouched. your side of the bed—cold. he would talk to you sometimes. in the mornings. in the silence. softly, like you might answer.

“you’d scold me for how much takeout i’m eating.”

“you always hated this tie.”

“i should’ve told you to wait. should’ve told you i didn’t mean it.”

his apartment became a museum of you. photos. receipts. your scarf on the coat hook. he couldn’t let go, because letting go meant accepting the truth. that his last words to you were a mistake. that he’d chosen work over love, and the cost was never seeing you smile again. he read the letter you left on the fridge a hundred times. “don’t forget about dinner tonight, love you.”

and he whispered to the quiet, every night before sleep—

“i’ll never forgive myself.”

because he didn’t just lose you. he buried the part of himself that believed love was enough. and true to his words, he never saw you again. not in dreams. not in crowds. not even in memory the way he wanted to.

only in the echo of your name, spoken too late, to the dark.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

the city never really slept, not this side of it anyway.

it was almost midnight when you finally caught up to him — the sharp sound of your boots echoing through the back alley behind the bar, neon lights flickering against the wet pavement. his motorcycle stood parked just beyond the fence, engine still warm, helmet hooked on the handlebar like he hadn’t decided whether to leave or not.

he turned when he heard you, cigarette hanging from his lips, jaw clenched like he’d been waiting for this — or maybe dreading it.

“you said you’d stop disappearing like this,” you said, voice steady despite the storm in your chest. toji exhaled slow, smoke curling upward. “figured you’d be asleep by now.”

“you said you’d be back by dinner.”

“yeah, well. i didn’t wanna argue.”

“so you just don’t come home at all?”

you stepped closer, arms wrapped around yourself like armor. the scent of gasoline and cold air clung to him. his eyes, always sharp, softened for half a second before hardening again.

“you know how i am, baby.”

“no,” you said quietly. “i don’t. because you never let me in. you disappear, you fight, you come back like nothing happened, and i’m supposed to just… smile? play house?” he shifted his weight, grinding the cigarette under his heel. “you knew what you were getting into with me.”

“i thought i did,” you whispered. “but i didn’t know it’d hurt this much.”

toji looked away, jaw ticking. “you deserve better.”

“don’t say that.”

“it’s true.”

“then be better, toji!”

the words echoed into the night, your voice trembling with all the weight you couldn’t carry anymore. “i can’t,” he said, and it was the quietest you’d ever heard him. “i don’t got that in me.”

“you do. you just won’t let yourself have anything good. you think you ruin everything, so you leave before it happens.”

“maybe,” he said, shrugging like it didn’t crack your chest in half. “but if i stay, you’ll hate me anyway.”

“i’ll hate you if you leave,” you said.

“because you keep choosing the easy way out. and i’m always the one left bleeding.” he moved toward the bike then, reaching for the helmet, eyes not meeting yours. “i don’t want to see you again,” he said.

you froze.

“…what?”

“i said i don’t want to see you again,” he repeated, harsher now, like it was the only way he knew how to kill something softly. “it’s better for both of us.” you stood still, eyes stinging. “you don’t mean that.”

“yeah,” he said, slinging a leg over the seat, engine purring to life. “i do.”

he didn’t look back when he pulled away.

he didn’t see you run after him. he didn’t hear your voice break behind him. he just turned the corner, disappearing like smoke.

and that’s when it happened.

your breath hitched as the headlights blinded you — a car, fast, too fast —

tires screeched. a sickening thud. then silence. like the whole city held its breath. your body lay still on the pavement, your phone still clutched in your palm.

he found out an hour later.

sirens. flashing lights. a phone call from a stranger who found your emergency contact. he dropped the helmet. sprinted through red lights. blood on the concrete. your name already fading into past tense. he wasn’t allowed to see you at the hospital. not until you were already gone.

his hands shook. he hadn’t cried in years, but that night, he did — loud and ugly in the hallway, fist through drywall, the taste of iron in his mouth. he’d told you he didn’t want to see you again. and now he never would.

toji never went back to that alley again.

he avoided the bar. he stopped sleeping in the bed you once shared. your picture stayed folded in his wallet, worn at the edges from the way his thumb kept brushing it. he still kept your old hoodie — the one with the faded print on the front and your perfume in the sleeves. on some nights, he wore it to sleep.

he started carrying a helmet for two. never used it. just kept it. sometimes he talked to the empty seat behind him on long rides.

“you’d laugh at me if you saw me now.”

“i should’ve stayed.”

“i didn’t mean it. fuck, i didn’t mean it.”

toji fushiguro, who never begged, now whispered your name like a prayer. but prayers don’t bring people back. not even the ones we love most. and just like his words, he never saw you again. and it ruined him forever.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

you stand just off the gravel path, arms crossed tight around yourself, breath visible in the cold air. the red and gold leaves have long since fallen. the trees are bare now. and so is the truth.

sukuna leans against his black car, cigarette half-lit in his fingers, eyes on the fading sky. the sunset paints him in fire — but none of it reaches his chest. “you lied,” you say softly. no venom. just a hollow ache. a hurt that’s been carved into your ribs like a name on stone.

“i didn’t,” he says flatly.

you blink. once. twice. “you said you’d stay. that we were… building something. something real.” he exhales smoke and looks away. “things change.”

“no,” you shake your head, taking a step forward. “you changed. you started pulling away. you stopped coming home before midnight. you stopped talking to me unless i begged. is that what you wanted? for me to chase you like some pathetic girl hoping for scraps?”

“stop,” he mutters.

“i’m not going to stop,” you snap, voice finally cracking under the pressure of holding it all in. “you say you’re tired of me? well, i’m tired of feeling like a ghost in my own relationship!”

his jaw clenches, the fire in his eyes flickering like the fuse on a bomb.

“i never asked you to stay,” he says.

“you didn’t have to,” you breathe. “i wanted to. i chose to. and you— you took every piece of me and turned it into something disposable.”

silence. just the wind brushing against the trees. and the slow, cold collapse of everything you thought you could survive.

“look,” sukuna finally mutters, pushing off the car, voice low and lethal, “i don’t want to keep doing this. if this is what we’ve become, if this is what you’ve become — someone who wants to scream and cry and throw shit every time something gets hard — then maybe we shouldn’t keep pretending this is love.”

your throat tightens. “so you’re giving up.”

he doesn’t answer.

“say it,” you whisper. “don’t walk away this time, don’t leave without saying it.” he looks at you, then. really looks. and for a second — just a second — you see it. the ruin in his chest. the heartbreak he’ll never name. because if he does, he’ll fall apart.

“…i don’t want to see you again,” he says.

it’s almost gentle.

you step back, your world crumbling under your feet. “if you leave now,” you warn, voice trembling, “this is it. i won’t chase after you. i won’t call.” he lights another cigarette with a flick of his thumb, eyes hollow.

“good.”

then he turns. gets in the car. engine starts.

he doesn’t look back.

not even once.

you stand there long after the sound of tires fades. you wipe your tears before they freeze to your skin. you step forward, legs shaking, heart pounding like it’s screaming not to go—

you never see the other car. bright headlights. no time. a shattering crunch of metal. then quiet.

then nothing.

he finds out in the morning.

he hadn’t slept. he never does when he fights with you. not really. but he hadn’t turned around. not until someone called. not until the world stood still. they told him you died instantly. that there was a ring box in your coat pocket. he hadn’t seen it before.

now he wishes he had.

after you, sukuna doesn’t date. doesn’t smile. doesn’t laugh the way he used to. his apartment is cold. silent. like a museum for a life that never got to finish.

he buys your favorite tea. never drinks it. he leaves your contacts in his phone. never deletes them. on your birthday, he drives to the road where you died. sits on the edge of the cliff with a cigarette and stares down at the curve of the road below. he keeps asking the wind, “why the fuck didn’t i stay?”

he dreams of your voice. he dreams of the way you laughed with your whole body. he dreams of how you’d lean into his chest at night like he was safe. like he was someone worth loving.

and every morning he wakes up, it hits him all over again. he said he didn’t want to see you again. and now he never will. and for someone who never believed in punishment, he lives every day like it’s hell.

SHIU KONG

he’s never one for public scenes. not shiu kong. always measured, always cold with his kindness — like a man who keeps even his warmth under lock and key. but tonight is different.

you’re standing outside a high-rise bar in roppongi. past midnight. your heels ache. your throat’s raw. the city’s pulsing behind you — full of strangers who’ll never know the ache of your name in his mouth.

the rain’s just started, soft and unhurried, like the sky can feel the ending too. “you don’t even look at me anymore,” you say, voice trembling as you hold your coat tighter. “it’s like i don’t even exist unless i’m behind your door or in your bed.”

shiu sighs. slow. practiced. his hands stay in his pockets like he’s afraid of what he’ll do if they don’t. “you know how i work,” he says, eyes flicking to the ground. “you knew from the beginning. this job, this life— it was never going to be simple.”

“i never wanted simple,” you spit, stepping closer. “i just wanted you.”

he doesn’t flinch. just exhales, tired.

“you’re young,” he says quietly. “you still think love means burning the house down just to feel the heat.” your jaw clenches. “and you? you think love is pretending it doesn’t hurt to watch the person you care about beg for scraps?” his silence is louder than traffic.

you laugh bitterly, blinking against the rain. “i loved you, shiu. i loved you. and you— you loved your job. your image. your goddamn quiet.” he looks up finally. and for a moment, something falters in those sharp, tired eyes.

“don’t do this,” he says lowly. “not here.” you shake your head. “why? because people might see you crack? because the big, composed man might fall apart over some girl who loved him too hard?”

he swallows. hard. “you don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“no,” you whisper, voice breaking. “you just don’t understand what you’re losing.” he says nothing. just stands there, like he’s frozen in place, like he knows that if he moves — even slightly — he’ll say something he can’t take back.

but he doesn’t move. he never does.

and maybe that’s the problem. you take a step back, shaking. the ache in your chest doesn’t feel like heartbreak anymore — it feels like finality. “say something,” you plead, voice barely there. “say anything.”

he hesitates.

“…i don’t want to see you again.”

he says it with no venom. no hate. just that quiet, cold steel he always wears. and he turns. just like that. into the streetlight, into the mist, into the part of your life that will never come back. you watch him walk away. you don’t follow. you cross the street blindly, barely seeing the headlights, barely hearing the tires screech—

a sudden flash.

a dull crack.

and then, stillness.

you don’t even feel it when your body hits the pavement.

shiu doesn’t sleep that night.

he pours himself a drink in his high-rise apartment, watching the lights of tokyo bleed into the windows. he thinks about calling. about saying sorry. but he’s not the kind of man who apologizes for being exactly what he warned you he was.

the call comes at 4:16 a.m.

the voice on the line is grim. he doesn’t speak for a long while after they hang up. he just stares at the window, at the half-empty glass in his hand, at the last message you sent hours before — still unread.

“just let me in.”

he keeps reading it.

again.

again.

until his eyes blur.

he doesn’t go to the funeral.

he sends flowers — white lilies, with no name on the card. but he keeps your photo on his desk. he keeps the voice message you once sent when you were drunk and laughing and calling him “your grumpy old man” like it was the sweetest thing in the world.

he never deletes it.

sometimes, when the nights are too quiet, he plays it just to hear you laugh. and every time he closes his eyes, he remembers your voice in the rain. you loved him like it was a promise. he left you like it was a habit. and now the rain never quite feels the same. because he said he didn’t want to see you again.

and he got his wish.

HIGURUMA HIROMI

the argument starts in his office. glass walls. cold lighting. your reflection shaking in every polished surface. you came to bring him lunch. again. like always. you always come. and he always forgets to eat. and that’s how this began — with your love, simple and ordinary, clashing against the weight of his silence.

“you’re not even listening to me,” you say, placing the paper bag down harder than you mean to.

hiromi barely looks up from his desk. “i am.”

“no,” you whisper, “you’re hearing. not listening.”he sighs, finally leaning back in his chair, dark circles under his eyes like bruises. “what do you want me to say?”

you shake your head, stepping away from the desk. “something. anything. do you know how hard it is to be in love with someone who’s always somewhere else? always buried in cases, in guilt, in the past?”

his jaw clenches. “this job isn’t something i can just leave at the door.”

“and i’m not someone you should treat like a ghost,” you snap, eyes glassy. “i’ve been here. showing up. loving you through your silence. and you… you just disappear into it.” he rises slowly, suit perfect, eyes unreadable. “i never asked you to stay.” and the room drops into coldness. so sudden. so final.

“what?” your voice cracks.

“i didn’t ask you to stay,” he repeats, slower this time, quieter. “you chose this. and now you want to make me feel guilty for not being the man you built in your head.”

“no,” you whisper, breathless. “i wanted you. all of you. not a fantasy. not a perfect man. just you. and you can’t even give me that.”

he doesn’t answer. you wait. nothing.

so you laugh, soft and broken, backing away toward the door. “i hope your court never stops needing you, hiromi,” you say bitterly, “because i’m done waiting for a verdict that’s never coming.” you leave before the tears fall. you leave before he can see the way your hands shake. and he lets you. he watches the door shut and tells himself he’s doing the right thing.

he always tells himself that.

the accident happens two hours later. just outside the train station. wrong place. wrong time. someone running a red light. a body thrown too far. a phone crushed in your hand with your last unsent message:

“can we talk?”

when hiromi gets the call, he’s reviewing a case file. he thinks it’s a mistake. thinks it’s a sick joke. he keeps reading the sentence on the paper in front of him five times before realizing he hasn’t understood a word.

he doesn’t cry.

not that day.

not the day after.

he doesn’t attend your funeral either — says it’s to avoid attention. but the truth is simpler: he can’t face what he did. he can’t look at the hole he left in your life and pretend it’s just grief. it’s guilt. and it eats him from the inside.

weeks pass.

he stops shaving. stops replying to his colleagues. stops arguing in court the way he used to.

they say he’s changed. that something cracked in him. he doesn’t correct them. every night, he comes home to silence. he pours two glasses of wine out of habit, but always drinks alone. your toothbrush is still in the bathroom. your jacket still on the hook.

he never moves them.

he reads your old texts like scripture. listens to a voicemail you left one rainy evening, laughing about some café you wanted to take him to. he never got to go. he never said yes.

and every time he sees the empty space beside him in bed, he thinks:

“i said i didn’t ask her to stay.”

but god, he wishes he had. he wishes he had told you — that he loved you. that he was scared. that you made the world bearable.

but he didn’t.

and now, the only verdict left is this; you never saw him again.

just like he said.

[anglbunny]

too late ♡ multiple jjk

cw: heavy angst no comfort, unrequited love, they snap at you only to realize what they've done after it's too late, gojo, geto, nanami

୨୧

GOJO SATORU

You weren’t trying to smother him.

You just missed him. You wanted to be around him. To be enough.

But Gojo was always drifting somewhere higher—farther. Brighter. Untouchable.

And you, in your desperate attempts to hold onto him, had only made yourself a burden.

It started small. unanswered texts, rescheduled plans, jokes that didn’t land the way they used to.

Then one night, it snapped.

You'd waited three hours for him to show up. You made dinner. You even lit a damn candle.

He walked in like he lived on a different planet. No apology, just a tired sigh and a look you couldn’t name.

“Where were you?” you asked, trying to sound casual, even as your throat tightened.

“Busy,” he replied. Short. Clipped.

“I just—could you have told me? I was worried.”

He looked at you then, really looked. And something in him cracked.

“God, can you stop?” he snapped. “You’re always worrying. Always texting. Always needing something. It’s exhausting.”

Your heart plummeted.

“I just wanted to spend time with you.”

“Yeah, well maybe I don’t want to be glued to you 24/7.”

Silence.

Heavy, awful silence.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice shaking. “I didn’t realize I was being—”

“Clingy?” he cut in, shrugging. “Annoying? Yeah. You should be sorry.”

That was the last straw.

You didn’t cry. You just nodded. Quietly, you cleaned up the dinner you made for two and left.

And then you stopped.

No more texts. No more waiting. No more soft smiles and gentle reassurances.

You gave him the space he asked for.

You weren’t cold. Just… distant. Detached. You still said hello. Still smiled politely. But that spark—your warmth, your constant affection—it was gone.

At first, he was relieved.

Then he noticed how you didn’t linger anymore. How you laughed more with other people. How someone else started walking you home.

He’d call your name, and you’d pause—but never turn around fast enough.

One day, he saw someone touch your hand, and you let them.

It hit him like a curse.

You weren’t his anymore.

You had been. You gave him everything—your time, your care, your love—and he crushed it like it was nothing.

Now you were gone in the way that really mattered.

Emotionally. Romantically. Soul-deep gone.

He went home to an empty apartment, sat in the silence he once begged for, and suddenly hated the quiet. Hated the space.

He picked up his phone a hundred times. Typed a thousand messages. Never sent a single one.

Because he knew...

He asked for this.

And you listened.

GETO SUGURU

It wasn’t always like this.

He used to hold you like you were precious. Kiss your forehead like he was grateful you existed.

But that was before.

Before the silence between you became louder than any curse. Before the kindness in his eyes dulled into detachment. Before your love became something he resented.

You don’t even know when it changed.

You just remember the day you reached for his hand and he flinched.

“You don’t have to check on me every five minutes,” he muttered one night, voice low but sharp.

“I just wanted to know you were okay.”

“I was,” he said, not looking at you. “Until you started hovering like I’m some broken thing that needs fixing.”

You felt your chest tighten.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“You never do,” he cut you off. “But you’re always there. Always watching. Always needing to be let in. It’s too much.”

His words knocked the breath out of you.

You stared at him—this man you loved, this man you stayed with even as the world started to hate him—searching for something soft in his expression.

There was nothing.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

He didn’t look up. “Yeah.”

So you pulled back.

You stopped fussing. Stopped checking in. Stopped calling him late at night just to hear his voice.

You let him be. Just like he asked.

And for a while, he didn’t notice.

Until the day he realized the apartment was too quiet. That his phone hadn’t lit up in days. That no one waited up for him anymore. No one texted him “are you safe?” or “did you eat?”

It hit him when he walked past your room—your room, that you used to sleep in together—and the bed was perfectly made.

When he saw the chipped mug you always used sitting clean and untouched on the shelf.

When he reached out. finally. no one reached back.

You still answered his messages. Politely. Casually.

But you didn’t ask if he was okay anymore.

You didn’t call him Sugu anymore.

You didn’t love him loudly anymore.

You still loved him. Of course you did.

But you learned the hard way—he didn’t want it.

So you stopped offering it.

And by the time Geto realized what he'd thrown away—

You weren’t his anymore.

NANAMI KENTO

He never yelled at you.

He never called you clingy. Never said you were annoying. Never insulted your emotions.

But sometimes, silence wounds more than words ever could.

Nanami was kind. Always.

But kindness isn’t the same as closeness. And love, if only shown through quiet nods and tired sighs, begins to feel like obligation.

You used to sit beside him on the couch, your legs tucked under you, head on his shoulder, trying to start a conversation—about your day, about a show, about anything.

He would hum. Nod. Offer a soft “mm.” But the room always felt colder than his body.

“You okay?” you asked one night.

He looked up from his paperwork. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You hesitated. “You’ve been… distant.”

“I’ve been busy,” he said plainly. “Work’s been exhausting. You know that.”

“I know. I just… I feel like I’m losing you.”

He sighed through his nose, setting down his pen. “You’re not. You’re overthinking again.”

Again.

That word sank heavy in your chest.

You tried to smile. Tried to swallow it down. But it didn’t go away.

Because love wasn’t supposed to make you feel like a nuisance for needing it.

You stopped bringing up your feelings after that.

You stopped asking if he was okay, if you were okay, if he still wanted this.

You gave him space—not the kind he asked for, but the kind he made when he stopped looking at you like you were his.

He didn’t even realize you’d pulled away until one night, he reached for your hand—and you didn’t reach back.

You smiled, soft and sad.

“I don’t think you ever really loved me,” you said, not bitter—just tired. “I think you loved the quiet I gave you.”

His lips parted, but nothing came out.

And that was the last silence you were willing to bear.

TL: @samm1e13 @syleepy @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @yanderebluelockfan @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @valexqpt @snowsilver2000 @mitsurisupporter @meikstv @ravenbc @mihyas-dieehefrau

A/N: i was crying to sailor song. but anyways. we all need a bit of angst in our lives, right? (i think there is smth wrong with me for writing angst so i can cry)

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[Masterlist]

[missmeinyourbones]

BRUTAL (gojo satoru x reader) wc: 1k

Satoru’s back from his mission, but the apartment is still heavy with untouchable grief.

It should be light. Warm with the feeling of relief that is your lover being home from war. A suffocating weight should be lifted off of your chest, a steady breath of fresh air should be filling your lungs. 

But that’s not the case. The truth is, it’s foreign and quiet and far too cold. The eggshells you tread on are cracking beneath the soles of your feet by the second. 

The bed is huge, comically big for the two of you, but that’s not usually an issue. It’s supposed to be easy finding him beneath the satin sheets—magnetically intertwining limbs and sleeping practically on top of one another. Though plenty of room to spread out, the two of you often turn a blind eye and prefer one another’s embrace for blankets. 

Tonight is different. 

Tonight, there’s a clear divide. A growing gap that separates the two of you. In the bed and in your hearts, something is eerily wrong. 

Keep reading

[serikai]

needed to lose you to love me.

you’ve been here before, caught in his orbit, his daily check-ins, his “i love you”s tossed out like candy, sweet but fleeting.

it’s been weeks of this, his late-night calls, his teasing grins, his hands on you like you’re his, only to pull back, reminding you of the rules.

“you do know we aren’t exclusive, right?” he says, out of nowhere, his voice light but sharp, like he’s testing you, his eyes flicking to yours, catching the way your face freezes.

you stare at him your heart stalling, a good minute passing as his words sink in, cold and heavy, a slight frown tugs at your lips, your throat tight, the weight of his daily affection—texts, calls, those damn “I love you”s clashing with this reminder that you’re nothing official.

“uhm, yeah…” you manage, your voice small, forcing a nod, but your chest aches, the truth hitting harder than it should. “yeah, i remember.” he tilts his head, his smirk faltering, like he senses the shift but doesn’t know what to do with it.

“good,” he says too casual, leaning back, scrolling his phone like it’s nothing, but his eyes keep darting to you, searching.

that’s when you start pulling away.

no more answering his texts right away, no more late night calls, no more laughing at his stupid jokes.

you want him to feel it, to realize what he’s losing, to see you’re worth more than this half assed, non exclusive bullshit.

you want him to want you, fully, exclusively, the way you’ve started to want him, despite knowing better.

he notices his texts get shorter, his calls more frequent, his “where you at, babe?” laced with an edge of frustration but he does nothing, no apologies, no chasing, just the same cocky gojo, too stubborn or too scared to bridge the gap.

weeks pass, the distance growing, your heart heavier with every unanswered “i miss you” text he sends.

you’re at your apartment again, alone, when he shows up unannounced, leaning against your doorframe, shades low, his smirk weaker than usual.

“you’ve been ghostin’ me,” he says, his voice light but tight, stepping inside, his presence filling the room, too big, too much.

you cross your arms, your eyes burning, all the hurt you’ve bottled up spilling over. “im done, satoru,” you say, your voice shaking, stepping closer, glaring up at him.

“i can’t do this anymore, you act like I’m yours but then say we’re not exclusive? It’s fucking me up, and im worth more than that.”

he stares, his blue eyes wide, unguarded for once, his smirk gone, his hands twitching like he wants to reach for you but doesn’t. “babe, i—” he starts, but you cut him off, your voice cracking, tears spilling.

“no, don’t.” you snap, your chest heaving, pouring it all out, how his mixed signals broke you, how you wanted more, how his inaction killed you.

“i love you, satoru, and you made me feel like nothing, i can’t keep pretending that’s okay.” he sighs, heavy, his shoulders slumping, his face unreadable, a rare crack in his untouchable facade.

“i think we should just end this.” he mutters, his voice low, like he’s forcing the words out, his eyes avoiding yours. “im not… im not ready for anything more.” the words hit like a punch, your heart shattering, but you nod, wiping your tears, your voice steady despite the pain.