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Hiiii iâm Jae 23 BLACK đ«¶đœ this blog is 95% fic reblogs, 1% fanart, 3% random thoughts, 1% no clue
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â¶ïžïž First Time? (starring . virgin!fratkuna)
synopsis . When you get paired with your campus fratâs resident asshole, Sukuna, for a project, the last thing you expect to learn about him is that heâs a damn virgin! Nor did you expect to be the one to change that. content . afab!reader, virginity loss, oral sex (m!receiving), premature ejac, non-curse college au, dirty talk, pet names, degrading, porn with a lil plot, teasing, taunting, filth, nipple play (m!receiving), pussy slapping, creampie, confessions, cum eating/making him taste himself, piercings, readerâs pretty blunt, somewhat of a size kink, Sukunaâs kinda soft here and there, slightly dom!reader, etc.
word count . 10.5k | authorâs note: this is a combined repost from kamitv! i want all my works on one account so if this looks familiar, thatâs why. banner art by Rororogi Mogera.
Who wouldâve thought?
Of all people, Sukuna, a virgin? It just didnât make sense.
He was this stand-offish asshole who most people respected out of pure fear. He'd claim not to "do parties" and yet you could always find him at one. Heâd always have some chick on his arm or even in his lap so, in what world would anyone with a brain assume heâs actually never been inside a woman before?
And to make his lack of game all the more unbelievable, heâs even rumored to have a big dickâitâs like some well-known campus fact about the guy! Cosigned by his closet frat brothers, too.
So, again, what reason would anyone have to think the guy was a virgin?
Certainly not you, of course. And you donât expect to be the only person to find out such information either.
The way you find out is probably even more bizarre than the fact itself. You and him had little to no reason to ever interact with each other. You werenât some shy nerd who holed herself up in her room all day or anything, but you werenât much of the party type other.
You were stuck somewhere in the middle of all that, vicariously living through some of your friends who had better things going for them.
As such, there was no real reason for you and Sukuna to cross paths. He never even had a reason to acknowledge your existence until the two of you are paired up together for a project in the one class you happen to take together.
ââ
The background noise is the chatter of your fellow classmates and their own project partners, you find your partner grumbling out a low, âWhat?â In response to your last statement, having hardly heard a thing you said.
âI said,â You huff, sitting beside the man in question as today marks week two of you being paired up with him for this semesterâs project, âWe should be meeting up outside of class too. We could get this knocked out in like a day if you just-â
âOh that,â Sukuna cuts off casually. Seated all slouched back in his seat, his legs sprawled out in that signature manspread of hisâhe rolls his eyes at your little reminder, âYou said somethinâ about that last week.â
You speak through slightly gritted teeth, fighting the headache heâs about to give you from this conversation alone, âAll the more reason for you to take it into consideration. The faster we get this done, the less we have to deal with each other.â
As you say that, you glance at him only to find his eyes directly on yours already. Heâs got such lazy posture, his head tilted slightly whilst he gazes at you so intently, and his big muscular arms folded across his chest. Even wearing a black hoodie and gray sweats, he still looks as attractive as everâmean low-lidded crimson eyes locked on yours, tattooed face so beautifully defined, and rosy lips pulled into such an uninterested little frown.
Up until your words hit his ears properly, âThe less we have to deal with each other, huh?â Sukuna repeats, narrowing his eyes even further at you, âYou barely even know me and yet you want nothing to do with me already.â
âI know enough about you, Sukuna,â You say with a sigh, âAnd you hardly contribute to this project as is. Which only proves that everything they say about you is probably true.â
He arches a brow, his interest piquing, âAnd what exactly do people say about me?â
You let off a light scoff, âDonât act like you donât know.â
âBut I donât know,â Sukuna tells you honestly, maroon eyes boring into yours.
You stare for a moment as you try to decipher whether or not heâs being honest right now. How does he not know what people say about him? Everyone talks about his brooding personality very openly.
âThey say youâre an ass,â You eventually say to the man.
To which his lips twitch into a slight smirk, âAnd you believe that?â
âSeeing as Iâve asked you toâat the very leastâtype your name on this document and you havenât even done that yet,â You scoff, âYes.â
The two of you mildly glare at one another for a moment before Sukuna leans up in his seat. Breaking eye contact for just a moment to look at his laptop, he swiftly moves to open up that shared document of yours and types his name out with a heavy sigh.
After which, heâs slouching back again and looking at you, âDonât believe everything people tell you, woman.â
You roll your eyes at him, âWhat? Are you not fond of rumors? That still doesnât negate the fact that youâre an assho-â
âWhen do you want to meet up?â Sukuna grumbles out almost reluctantly, watching the way you pause and swallow thickly as he catches you off-guard.
Heâs almost even intrigued by how quickly you bounce back, despite being caught by surprise, âFriday. Are you free?â
âUnfortunately,â He grumps.
You give him a little shrug, âGood. Iâll see you then.â
And that was it. That was how each and every interaction with you and Sukuna went. Bickering back and forth about him not doing shit to help you with something thatâll affect your grade majorly, criticizing you about being too focused and needing to relax every now and then, and even calling you a stuck-up little brat one timeâit was safe to say, you and Sukuna didnât get along too well.
Not that you minded anyway. He wasnât your first partner to care little about their grade so, you knew how to deal with these kinds of people by now. Typically, you indulge yourself in their craving to ârelaxâ just once and then they promise to start helping. Youâve gone down that path before and itâs worked for you just fine so you assume things will go the same way with Sukuna.
Plus, you guess you can give him a slight pass for his asshole attitude, at least he has a pretty face to look at. Black ink always decorating his awfully smooth skin, deep dark yet beautiful ruby-shaded eyes boring into whatever it is his focus on, and broad shoulders looming over your smaller figure every time he stands in front of youâyou can't help but feel both attracted and intimidated by the man.
ââ
Which is exactly why when you open your apartment door for the scheduled meetup that Friday to crane your head up at him, youâre swallowing thickly to settle your nerves. Youâve never been alone with the man so of course youâre a bit nervous.
Especially with the way he gazes down at you like thatâs exactly where you belong: beneath him. His eyes are filled to the brim with intensity and yet heâs only just set them on you. Wearing a noticeable black compression shirt and those signature gray sweats of his, he almost appears as though heâd just come from the gym.
And just as you take in his appearance, he very openly takes in yoursâhis eyes raking over your body and taking in every single inch of you. After all, just as it was your first time alone with him, it was his first time seeing you dress so comfortably. He doesnât even try to hide the way he stares at your tits peeking out from the rather thin spaghetti-strap top you were wearing, his eyes soon trailing down slowly to those tauntingly short shorts you had on.
âSo,â Sukuna swipes his tongue over his lips and cocks his head to the side, hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes yet to lift from your legs, âAre you gonna stare at me all day or are you gonna let me in?â
You blink out of whatever little daze you were in, having found yourself gazing at his chest far longer than you meant to. It was right in front of your face after all, how could you look anywhere else? And his shirt was so damn tight, the fabric hugging his well-toned body perfectly, so much so that you swore you could make out piercings on his-
Sukuna leans forward suddenly, his face nearing yours to gain your full attention, âIf you keep staring at me like that, Iâm gonna assume you invited me over for something else-â
âSorry,â You chirp out as you clear your throat and awkwardly step back a bit to let him in, âYou can come in.â
Nodding, Sukuna slips by you and you shut your apartment door behind him. Then, youâre quick to lead him over to your living room where youâd previously been working on your project.
The two of you are hasty to take a seat on your couch, both of you only a few inches apart from one another whilst you lean toward your coffee table and log into your already open laptop. Sukunaâs eyes are all over you as always, studying your side profile, your intent focus on the screen in front of you, and even the way you-
âDid you even bring anything?â You suddenly ask before you glance at the man.
Sukuna quickly meets your gaze, ripping his eyes off of wherever theyâd been previously, âWas I supposed to?â
âSukuna,â You sigh out, âPlease tell me youâre joking right now.â
He swallows at the mere sound of his name rolling off your tongue in that scolding tone of yoursâhe's heard such a tone from you time and time again and yet, for whatever reason, it never seems to annoy him.
âIâm not.â He says plainly.
âHow are we supposed to work on this if you-,â You cut yourself off and decide not to even attempt arguing with him. Arguing wonât change the fact that he showed up with nothing. âJust uhm,â You glance elsewhere for a second before an idea comes to mind and you place your laptop down and stand up, âStay here.â
Sukuna doesnât say anything. He merely watches as you huff and walk off, swiftly exiting the living room and disappearing down a nearby hall. He swears he finds himself looking at you a bit more than intended. Especially as you walked off, his eyes dropping to your ass and those damn shorts of yours.
Even when youâre out of his sight, he still finds himself staring in the direction of which you went, almost unable to look away for whatever strange reason.
That lasts for a few minutes until he snaps out of it and leans back against the couch, tossing his head back and letting out a long sigh. You soon return to find him with an arm stretched along the back of the couch, his legs spread as usual, and his eyes up on the ceiling.
He doesnât even notice youâve returned until he feels something placed in his lap. Looking down, Sukuna finds your laptop kindly set on top of him. To which his brows furrowed in confusion and he looked at you to see you sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table with a paper and pencil in front of you.
âWhatâs this?â Sukuna scoffs.
You donât even spare him a glance as you begin writing something down, âHow weâll get things done.â He opens his mouth to say something but then youâre looking back at him with a glare, âI already organized the parts of this project that you have to do so, since itâs on my computer, you can work on that and Iâll work with what I remember.â
You wholeheartedly expected him to find something about this to disagree with you on but, to your surprise, he simply nods and redirects his focus to your laptop immediately.
And then, the two of you work exactly like that for the remainder of that little study session.
ââ
Sukunaâs not terrible to work with when itâs just you and him. If anything, heâs rather cooperative and a lot smarter than he leads on.
Which is why a solid two hours of productivity flies by surprisingly smoothly with him. If you asked him a question, he answered. Told him to do something, heâd say something snarky, and then do whatever it is youâve instructed anyway.
It all went so perfectly up until he let out a really heavy sigh, âAlright, Iâve had enough for this.â Sukuna says casually.
Heâs been repeating a similar phrase every thirty minutes or so but he usually gets right back to work after getting ignored by you. This time though, you get the feeling heâs serious when he pushes your laptop off of his lap and places it forward on the coffee table.
Itâs then that you frown, âOh câmon, we were getting so much done,â You comment as you glance back to him.
He shrugs, âI canât keep looking at that damn screen, itâs giving me a headache.â
âOf course it is,â You utter sarcastically, rolling your eyes whilst you place your pencil down and throw your arms up to stretch, âFine then, we can take a break.â
Sukunaâs brows lift in surprise. He didnât expect you to listen to him, âGood.â He hums, âI was getting bored as well.â
You scoff, âWere you?â
âYeah, can we do something else?â He asks.
Turning around, you rotate the way youâre sitting so that youâre facing him and your back is resting against your coffee table. âLike what?â You muse, meeting his low-lidded gaze.
âTalk,â Sukuna says.
Thatâs it? He wanted a break to talk to you? Your eyes are narrowing at him before you even realize, âTalk?â You repeat with a scoff, âSeriously?â
He nods, âMhm.â
âWhat do you wanna talk about, Sukuna?â As you ask him that, you watch the way his eyes casually slide down to your lips.
Does he mean to be this indiscreet with his looks? Or is he eyeing you down like that on purpose?
The man shrugs, âAnything outside of fuckinâ school.â
You laugh at that, âOkay, I can work with that.â
He tilts his head at you and licks his lips, âYeah?â Something about your little laugh threw him off.
âMhm,â You hum as you look down at your hand, fiddling with your nails a bit, âThe rumors⊠are they true?â
Thrown off yet again, Sukunaâs brows pinch together. âRumors?â He echoes in a genuinely confused tone, âWhat rumors, woman?â
The sound of your scoff makes him stiffen in his seat. Almost in an instant, the atmosphere had changed suddenly. âCâmon, donât play dumb,â You tease, lifting your gaze to him again, âThe rumors about you.â
He gives you a perplexed look and itâs almost as though you could see the gears in his head turning. âIf you know something, say it.â He demands.
You sigh, âSukuna, do you seriously hear nothing people say about you?â
Sukuna shrugs, âI donât care enough to remember. So what is it? What rumor?â
Youâre just curious. You swear thatâs all it was. And, naturally, since he seemed to have warmed up to youâof course you wanted to know if that rumor about his dick was true. Youâre both adults and itâs just a silly question. Plus, with the way heâs been looking at you all afternoon, youâre sure he wonât mind answering you with a simple yes or no.
Glancing to the side, your shoulders lift a bit, âItâs uh, rather intimate.â You hush out.
Sukuna narrows his eyes at you, âIntimate?? An intimate rumor about me?â
His emphasis on himself makes your eyes flick back over to him. âYeah, are you sure you donât know what they say about you??â You ask again.
âPositive. Now speak, what is it they say?â Sukuna huffs impatiently, even more curious about this little rumor after the mention of it being intimate. After all, heâs never-
âPeople say you have a big dick,â You utter way too casually.
So nonchalantly that it makes him choke, a choke you donât mess with the way he clears his throat and sits up a little. âWhat?â He rasps out.
You bat those stupidly false innocent eyes at him, âI didnât stutter,â Your tone dips into something different and he catches every bit of it, âPeople say you have a big dick, is it true?â
Sukuna clears his throat and for the first time, he glances away from you. Then, he opens and closes his mouth, contemplating his next words carefully before they soon fall from his lips, âYou wanna find out?â
His offer spurs a shift in your seat from you as you scoot closer to him ever so slightly, âYou wanna show me?â You ask boldly, your tone direct, and not even a flicker of hesitation present.
âDo I want to-,â Sukuna pauses, his eyes scanning the entirety of your seated frame as you inch closer to him, âWhat?â He huffs, swallowing thickly.
You move to stand on your knees and lean forward to the couch, soon propping your chin up on your palm as you look at him, âShow me,â You chuckle, âI asked if you wanted to show me, Sukuna.â
He blinks, âShow you my cock?â
You shrug, âYeah.â
The air is so thick right now, Sukunaâs not sure how exactly he can play this off without making a fool of himself. He gulps yet again, only to watch as your eyes start to drop down along his body.
âStop,â He rushes out, âKeep your eyes up here. On mine,â He commands in a low tone, earning your gaze once more.
And then itâs quiet for a moment. Heâs staring at you and youâre obediently keeping your eyes up on his. Sukuna hates it but he doesnât know what to say or do from here. The last thing he wanted was for you to find out his little secret.
Itâs like he was waiting for a fucking pin to drop, something to break the silence. Yet, his mind was going blank and words were failing him at the moment. Heâs flirted with women before, plenty of times actually, effortlessly evenâbut for whatever reason, as you sit there with those stupidly pretty eyes staring at him, his mind simply flakes on him.
Heâs like that for a minute longer until you move. So subtly too, sliding a hand to his thigh, leaning forward slightly, batting your lashes at him, âSukuna?â You whisper.
His hips are rolling upward slightly at the sound of his name alone. âW-What?â He stammers, mentally cursing himself a thousand times over.
âIf you donât wanna show me you can jusâ say no,â You hum, smiling a bit, âYâknow that, right?â
He scoffs, âOf course I know that, woman.â
âIf you know that thenâŠâ Your fingers lightly squeeze his thigh and you tilt your head, âAre you gonna tell me or show me whether or not those rumors are true?â
Something simply clicks inside Sukunaâs head. Rose-tinted lips cracking into a smirk, the man spreads his legs further and slouches back into the couch, âFind out for yourself since youâre so curious.â
Your eyes go wide, âWhat?â
Sukuna scoffs lightly, moving one of his arms from the back of the couch and placing his hand over his crotch. Of course, your gaze sinks down to his veiny hand, watching as he palms a stupidly large bulge in his sweats.
Your breath hitches a bit, âI-â
You donât even get the chance to get it out before heâs cutting you off, âCâmere,â Sukuna hums in that low voice of his.
âWhat?â You whisper.
You and him make eye contact again and he nods his chin toward the space in between his legs. Nothing can really explain why you follow his gesture and quickly find yourself sitting in between his legs, taking a deep breath as you settle your hands on his thighs.
Sliding your touch up and up and up until your fingers graze his hand. The same hand that was resting on top of that aching bulge of his.
Sukuna slowly lifts his hand up and away, relaxing his arm on the back of the couch again as he stares down at you. Cocking his head to the side, âWell? Feel it.â He huffs.
You donât even hesitate. Trailing your fingers upward carefully until you feel the outline of his cock beneath your fingertips, gulping as you drag your hand up to cup his length in your hand firmly, and smirking at the way his cock twitches furiously beneath your small touch.
Sukunaâs mouth falls open for a second but youâre too engrossed in feeling him to notice. He lets out a shuddered breath as he watches the way you grope his steadily growing erection. His head even tosses back and his fingers dig into the couch for a moment.
âIt is big,â You whisper to yourself, your words only making him twitch more within your hand.
âFuck,â Sukuna grits out lowly, hips unconsciously lifting to press himself further against you.
His curse earns your attention. You quickly glance up to him and see the way heâs got his head tossed back, Adam's apple bobbing with every heavy gulp he takes, and his chest rising and falling rather quickly.
You lift your hand carefully and decide to test something out. Slowly, you lean forward and just barely press your lips against his clothed cock.
Sukunaâs whole body reacts. He gasps louder than he means to and heâs weaving his fingers through your hair faster than he realizes, palming your scalp as he quickly looks down at you. âT-The fuck are you doing? Huh?â He huffs while gripping onto your hair.
You lift your head a bit but he keeps you in place, despite his question to you. âI justâŠâ Youâre not exactly sure you can explain yourself.
And by this point, Sukuna doesnât think he cares enough to hear an excuse from you, ââŠYou what? You wanna see it?â
All you can do is give him a little nod before he moves his free hand to the drawstring of his sweatpants. Then you're quick to help him tug them down until his boxers are revealed to youâa noticeable dampness in the fabric right where his leaking tip is. Was that because of you?
Before you can dawn on your own questions, Sukunaâs moving to tug his cock out. And fuck is he even bigger revealed before your eyes. With an upward curve, such an angry flushed tip, precum dripping from the slit of his fat cockhead, veins decorating his shaft and-
Shit, you were drooling. Howâd you get like this again?? Ah, who cares.
âSukuna,â You breathe out, ripping your eyes away from his cock just to look up at him.
He was almost panting, dark maroon eyes pouring down into yours, face flushed with different shades of red and pink, his lips parted softlyâhell, he looked like he was in heat or something.
Gulping before he answers you, Sukuna clears his throat and his voice is already husky, âWhat?â
You shift against the floor, your hands relaxing against his large thighs, âCan I-â
âYeah,â He cuts off. Lord knows if you got that question out he was going to lose his damn mind.
You raise a brow and lean forward, keeping your eyes on his while your lips near his tip, âYeah?â
The last thing you get from him is a nod before youâre parting your lips. And from that moment forward, it all goes downhill. Everything from the way youâre sitting in between his legs to that initial connection of your plush lips against his drooling cock had Sukunaâs mind spinning.
Heâs never been sucked off before. Hell, the farthest heâs gone as far as sexual activities are concerned is a little bit of dry humping. But this? Oh hell, this was his first time and he had zero idea how he was going to keep that information away from you.
Especially when he feels your tongue slip from between your lips and swirl around the head of his cock, kittenly lapping up that slim layer of precum sitting so prettily on his tip.
âOh f-fuuck,â Sukuna groans huskily, the hand on your head gripping tighter.
You pull away from him slightly just to take in his expression and the way he tosses his head back. It was almost cute to you. The last thing you expected was for him to be so damn sensitive, you hardly did anything.
His sensitivity only worsens as you finally start wrapping your lips around his cock, feeling him throb when you sink your mouth down on him. Sukunaâs jaw goes slack and his brows twist up. He tries his best to hold it in but he canât help but moan at the way you leisurely suck on half of his lengthy cock.
Your saliva wets up the rest of his shaft and you make up for what your mouth hasnât reached yet with your hand, stroking him lightly whilst you take the rest of his girth in and out of your mouth. Rolling your tongue around him, pulling off just to messily spit and kiss on his blushing tip, and slobbering all over himâSukuna almost fucking kicked something with how good your mouth felt around him.
Heâs used his hand and other shit before but holy fuck, nothing, and he means nothing compares to that damn mouth of yours. The way you look with his cock stuffed right in between those lips heâs been staring at for God knows how longâyour lips all slick with spit, eyes rolling back the deeper you take him, and tongue sticking out every time you pull your mouth off of him.
You soon slip your mouth off of him and start jerking him off, focusing your tongue on his tip and slithering the wet muscle in between the slit of his cock, lathering your tongue up with his glistening precum.
The sound of Sukuna groaning makes you look up at him, finding his eyes on yours again. Heâs panting, trying his best to look like this wasnât phasing him but failing in every way with how flushed his face was.
Your tongue sticks out and your hand continues to slide up and down his cock as you tap his tip on your tongue, making his brows twist up.
He bites back a throaty sound, âHah⊠damn brat,â Sukuna huffs out as if to⊠degrade you?
You almost find it cute how clearly inexperienced he is, spitting a fat wad of spit onto his pretty wet tip and then smiling at him, âSukuna,â You coo, your hand gripping his shaft tighter, âIs this your first time?â
He instantly looks off to the side, the veins in his neck and along his jawline tensing as he grits his teeth. Since he decides to ignore your little question, you take it a step further and slide your hand down his cock, gripping his thick base firmly before taking him into your heavenly warm mouth again.
His expression breaks completely, âOh shit,â Sukuna moans, his hips bucking up into your mouth as you slide him deeper into your mouth than you did before.
Then his hand is pushing your head down further on instinct and heâs subtly rutting his hips up. You lift your head up despite his constant pushing, soon causing your head to bob up and down whilst you suck him off skillfully.
âJusâ like that,â Sukuna suddenly groans and you moan around his cock in reaction. To which he keeps giving your mouth mindless little thrusts, âDonât s-, agh, stop.â
Sucking him deeper and deeper before you move your hand completely, you suck in a deep breath of air through your nose, open up the very back of your throat, and sink all the way down, your lips meeting his pelvis as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
Sukuna kicks something. Probably your coffee table with the way one of his legs extends out so suddenly, a choked-out groan ripped from his throat as your little move was all it took for him to cum. And itâs so much too, hot thick ropes of cum spurting down your throat, his hand holding onto your head for dear life whilst a moan of your name rolls off his tongue.
Youâre still sucking too, pulling up only to swallow what heâs gifted you and then stick your tongue out. Laying it flat against his tip, you leisurely lick at him as if to beg for more and now the manâs pushing your head away for the first time.
When you lift your eyes up to him again, you notice heâs got his tattooed arm over his mouth and his lashes are batting softly at you. For such a big man, he was so ridiculously cute right now. Panting, sweating, cursing under his breath as if you couldnât hear him.
âYeah,â Sukuna utters suddenly, clearing his throat, âThat was⊠my first⊠time. I uh-â
âDo you want more?â Is the last thing you asked him before you were sitting back on your heels and he was stumbling to his feet.
You had to guide him through it of course but, Sukuna doesnât hesitate to stuff your face full of his cock again. You take him so kindly too, obediently sitting there with your hands gripping his thighs for support with every careful thrust of his hips.
He was trying to be gentle with you at first. Partially because he didnât know what the hell he was doing, and also because he just loved the initial entry into your mouth. Over and over, Sukuna slid his dick in and out of your mouth like he was possessed, addicted to the feeling of you greedily sucking on him.
He was still sensitive from his first orgasm but his cock had yet to go downâtwitching inside that sloppy mouth of yours, aching against your tongue, and dripping into the depths of your throat. Sukuna wasnât much of a talker but he damn sure let out a plethora of grunts and groans.
They were so husk too, coming from deep within his chest, some getting caught in his throat when he felt your tongue flick against a specific vein on the underside of his cock. His fat tip knocked into the back of your throat with a single heavy thrust before his hands were latching onto the sides of your head.
Again, heâs not much of a talker but, something seems to come over him all at once because soon heâs got his gaze locked down on the messy sight of you and heâs huffing out words before he realizes. âEyes up here, câmon, hah⊠look at me,â Sukuna grunts.
Your eyes are completely glossed over as they flutter up to him. A moan vibrates against his skin as you make such intimate eye contact with the man, feeling his hips pick up.
Sukuna nods, âGood girl,â He praises in a low purr, and fuck does that do wonders for you because your legs are squeezing together more than they were before and youâre whining against him. âFuck, yâlike that?â He huffs, earning a sloppy lilâ nod from you.
He then feels you hum, âM-Mhm.â And heâs got chills slipping up his spine in pleasure.
Cracking a lazy, lopsided, and almost fucked-out little smirk, Sukuna scoffs, âYeah? Fuck, behind all those g-glares ând-, agh, scolding me⊠this is all you wanted, hm? A throat full of cock?â
His words had you whining again, fluttering your lashes at him as your fingertips dug into his thighs a little. Sukuna eases his hips back slowly, tipping his head to the side as he gently caresses the side of your face with his thumb.
âMessy girl,â He hums deeply, biting his lower lip at the way youâre just drooling for more and more as he pulls himself out of your mouth completely. âJusâ look at this face,â Sukuna chuckles, âYâlook like a slut cryinâ like thatâitâs cute.â
Blinking, you hadnât even realized you had a tear or two sliding down your face. Your mouth remains open for a second before he moves to rub his tip against your plump lips, smearing your spit and his cum all over the damn place with a little grin on his face.
ââKunaâŠâ You whisper, earning a quirk of his brow, âI canât believe youâre a virg-â
âDonât finish that sentence,â He grunts, moving a thumb to your chin to widen how open your mouth is for him, âJusâ⊠keep sittinâ there lookinâ pretty fâme,â Sukuna says.
You roll your eyes at him and all he can do is smile, pushing his hips forward again and easing his cock in between your lips. He slides in slowly until you can feel him pressing right against the back of your throat. To which he keeps himself there for a second, testing that gag reflex of yours and watching your eyes water.
Moving his hand back to the top of your head, he buries his fingers in your hair, âSo fuckinâ sexy like this,â Sukuna compliments, feeling you moan in response, âMâgonna cum again, stay j-just like that,â He breathes out heavily, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull before heâs throwing his head back.
And as if to coax his orgasm out, you carefully move a hand to cup his balls, sucking on his cock as best as you can and earning an accidental sound from his throat. The second your palm is felt against him, the moment he feels your tongue slicking against him, Sukuna whines.
Then his thighs are tensing and heâs groaning loudly as if to cover up the sound that just left his lips, filling your throat with his seed and then tugging your mouth off of him with a quick pull of your head. Youâre quick to swallow for yet a second time, letting out a needed cough after the fact while he stumbles back just a bit, his calves hitting the couch.
âWhore,â Sukuna growls.
You clear your throat and send a smile his way, âNot my fault you cum easy.â
Sukunaâs slow to sit back down on the couch to catch his breath, âTell anyone about this and Iâll-â
âOh,â You suddenly purr, cutting him off as you lift yourself up from the ground. He watches with slightly widened eyes as you move to straddle him, âDonât tell me you thought we were done?â
Heâs at a loss for words all over again, his confidence suddenly getting caught in his throat and flying out the window. Your hands slip to his broad shoulders and you lean forward a little.
Sukunaâs hands shakily find their way to your waist as he stares up at you, âYou want more?â
You smirk, tilting your head at the dumbfounded male, âDonât you?â You ask in a sultry little whisper, making his sensitive cock twitch once more. âAt the very leastâŠâ Your lips slowly near his and heâs losing his breath, âTaste yourself, Sukuna.â
And then your lips are on his and heâs taking your tongue into his mouth. His grip on your waist tightens before he pulls you flush against him, feeling your crotch press right against his cock thatâs steadily twitching back to life.
The two of you share a heated and messy kiss, your hips carefully swaying against him to encourage his returning arousal. You canât really use curiosity as an excuse anymore, can you?
Well, you can. And you do with the way your hands slide down to his chest, your fingers slipping over his nipples to find exactly what youâd been curious about. You flick your fingers over his piercing there and Sukuna lets out a low hiss, prying his lips from yours and sending you a glare.
Not only did that little move of yours make his cock spring up completely but, you also notice the frown on his face.
Smiling at him, âSukunaâŠâ
âDonât.â He huffs.
âYou have nipple piercings?â You end up asking anyway in a happy little tone.
He grits his teeth slightly, ââŠObviously.â
Chuckling, you press a soft peck against his lips and whisper, âCan I see them?â
âNo.â He replies.
âNo? Oh câmonnn, theyâre just piercings!â You whine as your legs remain sprawled out over Sukunaâs muscular thighs.
Your panty-clad cunt was throbbing over his saliva-slicked semi-hard cock, and yet here Sukuna was still trying his very best to figure out a way out of this situation. It wasnât that he didnât want to go further with youâhe was just nervous.
Not that heâd ever say that out loud though. Admit youâve made him nervous? Oh please, in what universe?
Sure, you made him cum prematurely but thatâs not his fault. No one told you to have such a slutty ass mouth.
Back to the present though, as you gaze down at him with those stupidly pretty eyes of yours, batting your lashes pleadingly whilst you await for the man to change his answer. It was simply unfair of him to have nipple piercings and not show you. Itâs the least he could do after the head you just gave him, right?
âNo, itâs not the âleast I can doâ,â Sukuna huffs. Itâs then that you realize youâd spoken your thoughts aloud butâin a wayâyouâre actually glad you did so, âYouâre not seeing shit, now get off of me.â
The pout that presents itself on your face is practically immediate, âCâmon âKuna, I wonât touch them. I just wanna see,â You coo softly, tilting your head to the side as if to convince him, âPlease?â
One simple word and his tip was wet with precum yet again. Sukuna swears he hates you. He hates the way you're looking at him right now, the way you're seated so perfectly on top of him, and the way he forgets how the hell he even got into this position with you in the first place.
Didn't he come over here to finish a project? Not have sex with you.
And yet, he can't find it in himself to say no to you again. That damn word you said, it did something to him. Sukuna's not sure what or why but his mouth is moving on its own, almost instinctively, "You wanna see them?" He sighs.
You're nodding, slipping your hands down to the hem of his shirt, "Yeah. Promise I won't touch."
"Tch. I..." Sukuna grits his teeth and you can see a pretty vein decorating his skin along his sharp jawline as he glances away for a moment, "I want you to beg me again."
Although you're a bit taken back by his request, you're quick to lean forward a bit and bite your lower lip, "Please?"
He ignores the word leaving you lips, his cock springing to life once more despite his attempt at leaving you unanswered. Given his body's reaction to you, all you can do is smirk before you're leaning down slightly and pressing your lips to his jaw.
"Pretty please, Sukuna?" You purr, warm breath hitting his now overly tense skin, "I promise I'll be good. Won't lay a finger on you unless you want me to."
His head slumps back against the couch and he inhales sharply at your soft touch sliding under his shirt, steadily working it up as the black fabric bundles up against your hands.
Then you're at his neck, sucking on his skin, rolling your tongue over him, shifting your hips forward against his cock and he simply groans. "F-Fucking, fine." Sukuna huffs, annoyed out of his ever-loving mind at whatever control it is you seem to have over him.
He hates you. He swears he hates you. Everything about the way your hands quickly tug his shirt up over his head, tossing the fabric elsewhere as you set your greedy eyes on his chest, the way your eyes widen at how flushed his skin is, and the sight of your tongue swiping over your lips as soon as you set your sight on his nipples.
Such pretty contrasting metal decorated his very pretty swollen nipples. So flushed with shades of pink and red, itching to be touchedâjust one flick and you knew he'd let out the most heavenly sound. The problem was convincing him to let you touch his nipples.
They were so damn tempting though, you swore you were drooling at the sight. God, you just wanted to reach out and-
"No," Sukuna rasps out. Your eyes snap up to his face and your pussy throbs at his expression.
He's beyond embarrassed. His eyes almost look glossed over with how desperate he was for you to stop looking at him. And yet he was so pouty and grumpy too, plump lips pulled into the cutest little frown at how hungry you were looking at him, his breathing unsteady all over again, and his cock felt twitching wildly beneath you.
You smirk, "'No'... what?"
"No, you cannot touch them," He's slow to clarify that, having seen right through those greedy eyes of yours, "You wanted to see and you've seen so-"
"I can make you feel good though," You purr, leaning in close to him all over again. "Jus' let me-"
"No," Sukuna mutters sternly. Then his hands are meeting your hips and his grip alone makes you flinch.
His touch is filled with intent as he slides his hands back to your ass and gives you a nice and firm squeeze, tugging you against him and making you gasp at the way his dick twitches right against your cunt. Your hands go to his shoulders to stop yourself from being pulled flush against him and he gazes dead up into your eyes.
How does one look so needy and yet commanding at the same time? It was like Sukuna told you thousands of words through his gaze alone. Maybe it was his very apparent physical need for you, or maybe it was just how attractive he is when aroused but fuck his look had your body hot all over.
Sukuna lets out a small breath of air before he drops his raspy tone even lower to a whisper, "Fuck me," He utters, feeling the reaction your cunt has to his words and cracking a cocky little smirk, "Fuck me, and you can touch me as much as you wish to."
You gulp thickly. Did you forget how to speak for a moment because all you do is open your mouth and it was like no words were even coming to your brain. His gaze was to intense and starved, large hands playing with the fat of your ass while he lifts his hips up slightly.
Then you gasp again, his thick tip was pressing right against your needy hole through the few layers of clothing that remained and you felt drunk off of your own arousal. Nodding and whispering in return, "O-Okay," Your hands slide around his neck and you lean in until your lips are meeting his again.
And if you were drunk off of your arousal then he was fucking high off of his ownâfeeling faded out of his mind with the way he leisurely moves to undress your lower half as he kisses you like he's done so a thousand times before, sliding his tongue into your mouth, swallowing up your moans, sucking on your lower lip, and undressing you all in one go.
Hell, for a second you forget the man is a damn virgin.
And as if to combat with thatâyou feel like a damn virgin once you start sinking your saccharine walls around Sukunaâs thickly curved cock. Gasping against his lips and feeling his fingertips curl into the skin of your waist, his jaw-dropping and lips quivering against yours as he lets out the most guttural groan heâs ever uttered, and both of your eyes fluttering at the connection of his body to yours.
Sukunaâs deeply shaded red eyes are hazy on yours as you sink down on him. His mind is turning to mush and he swears heâs about to pass the fuck out. It couldâve been the way your face looked as your cunt greedily sucked in his cock, or how tight your walls clamped down on him but, either way, Sukuna felt hot all over. Dizzy with lust and faded off of everything thatâs you.
Every inch of you, the feel of your squeezing wet pussy enclosing around his aching cock, that breathy squeak of his name leaving your lips, and then your fingers grazing his chest-
Sukunaâs brows twist up and his entire body flinches instinctively. Hips bucking up slightly, large hands urging you further down, and shaky sound escaping his wet blushing lipsâheâd officially lost it.
He looked so damn pretty doing so as well, not that youâd ever tell him that (youâve embarrassed him enough for the time being). Those damn eyes of his were all glossed over, his bottom lip was shaking as a sexy-pitched gasp escaped his throat, and his hands held onto you for dear life whilst he bottomed out.
His fat cockhead kissing your cervix with little to no movement had you panting heavily while you kept your eyes low on his. ââKuna,â You feel his cock twitch desperately inside you and you toy with one of his sensitive nipples in between your index and thumb, âY-Youâre so-â
âShut up,â He groans, and then heâs kissing youâdesperately, hungrily-, starved. He knew another word from you would have your cunt stuffed full of his cum within seconds.
And as much as he wanted that, as much as he knew thatâd be the end result of all this, he did not want to make yet another fool of himself. Though, the way your fingertips constantly flick over his pierced nipples makes him fucking whine into your mouth, a heavy grunt following after the sound as if to cover it up.
The hands your waist urge your body up, dragging your slicked walls up along his cock before allowing gravity to slam you back down. God the way you moan his name makes his knees feel weak. You were making him, as a whole, feel so utterly weak.
It wasnât long before you were picking up a steady pace on top of him, your breaths shared with his and his eyes not once leaving yours. Sukuna was such a silent commander, that gaze of his told you everything, testing-, no, daring you to look away from him. He didnât even know what it was about eye contact but he craved it so desperately.
Your gaze made his cock so stupidly hard, so much so that he just wanted to flip you over on this stupid couch of yours and-
And then he was. Sukuna doesnât even register heâs repositioned with you until you let out the prettiest little whimper and your eyes roll back as he, almost experimentally, thrusts his heavy cock deep past your plush pussy lips.
What brings him back into the moment is that sound of you and the way youâre choking out his name, âSâkuna, f-fuck,â You almost hate that heâs taken control because youâve lost your teasing of his chest, âWhyâd you-, ngh-,â Youâre cut off completely when he drags his hips back so torturously slow before rolling his hips down into you.
Shaking his head thoughtlessly, âShut up,â Sukuna huffs again as he presses his bulky weight down against you, folding you into the meanest mating press and making you let out a filthy mewl at the sheer stretch of his girthy cock. âPlease,â He sounds almost breathless, that plea of his hardly even audible, âJust be quiet fâme.â
Your jaw hangs open and youâre simply gaping up at the man with stupid, cockdrunk eyes. Something about feeling and watching him learn how to please you was probably more pleasurable than the sex itself. Which is saying an awfully lot because even though he didn't know what the hell he was doing, whatever he was doing, he was doing it right.
All you can do is wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, moaning his name softly every time his tip nudges into that mushy spot inside you. Sukuna lets out a low hum when he feels your nails claw at his back suddenly.
Then the cocky bastard has the nerve to fucking smile at you. Almost as if he enjoyed the pain of your nails scratching at his back hard enough to leave marksâŠ
Because, of course, then heâs fucking you faster, harder, deeper. So determined to learn what you like, to learn your body inside and out (literally), and to have you mark up his back more than the dark ink that decorates his skin currently.
âYâfeel so fuckinââŠâ He can hardly even speak as he just grows addicted to pushing his cock in and out and in and out. That sloppy sound of your cunt squelching and wetting up his cock over and over again-, fuck he couldnât get enough of it. âS-So fuckinâ good,â Sukunaâs voice almost softens as he shifts his lips to your ear, âOh fuck, wannaâŠâ His words trail off, a deep shade of blush coating his cheeks.
You canât help but grow that never-ending urge to tease him, moving your lips to his ear, âWanna what?â There was a slight shake in your voice but that didnât save him from his cock throbbing at the sound of your voice alone.
âHahh⊠wanna-, agh, wanna make you cum,â Sukuna admits begrudgingly. He sounded so ridiculously embarrassed saying that out loud but he was far too pussydrunk to care right now.
Thrusts growing heavier as if he were searching for a specific spot inside you, his eyes softening as he shifts to hover his face over yours once more, and his groans making your stomach churn with butterflies. Hell, you almost do exactly that of what heâs requested based on the sound of desperation in his tone alone.
Sukunaâs usually such a big, mean, sometimes stoic man, and yet here he was, silently requesting your assistance.
He is only a virgin after all.
âNot anymore,â He gruffs, catching you by surprise as you render the fact that those words left your lips. âCâmon, tell me what to do.â
Again, Sukuna swears on his life he hates you. He hates the way youâve made him so weak, the way your cunt is so deliciously warm inside, the way you moan his name-
Fuck, he hates you.
ââKuna,â You whisper as you slide one of your hands from around his neck to slip to his hand and guide him, âMy clit. You gotta-â
Your breath is caught in your throat all over again. You were trying to guide him just like he wanted you to but Sukuna was far too quick of a learner, swatting his thick thumb around in search before his ears twitch at the way your voice gets stuck in your throat.
âHere?â He has the nerve to whisper gently, âRub here, right? Yâlike that?â Sukuna asks as he matches his thrusts with the flick of his thumb, drinking in the way your back arches up off of the couch and your eyes roll back.
Youâre nodding, âYes yes-, r-right there âKuna, fuckâŠâ
His eyes rake over your face all over again and then heâs doing that thing where he speaks without thinking, âSo fuckinâ pretty like this.â
Of course, those softly uttered words pull you out of your cockdrunken stupor for only a moment, âH-Huh?â You breathe out as your eyes meet his.
âI hate you,â Sukuna lies straight through his teeth, âHate how pretty you look beneath me,â Heâs babbling at this point, picking up his pace and trying to angle his cock into somewhere specific, âHow fuckinââgod youâre squeezinâ me sâtight, hahhâh-how you sound moaning my name, taking my cock.â With that last sentence comes a particularly harsh thrust.
Your nails scrape at his back again and he moans in pleasure. Gloss covers your eyes as he finally finds that spot that has you seeing stars, âSukuna,â You moan sweetly, feeling him hit that very spot over and over and over again.
âAgain,â He huffs, leaning down even closer and pressing more of his weight onto you, âMoan my name again, brat.â
âSukuna,â Youâre moaning without the need for his instruction. To hell if the man is a virgin, he knows how to use his cock.
What he doesnât realize is how big he is in comparison to anyone else youâve been with. Stretching you open with every thrust, fucking you ridiculously full of all his thick inches, knocking his dripping tip right against your sweet spot, making your legs tingle in numbness, and rolling skillful circles around your clit as if heâd practiced doing so before.
âFuckinâ perfect,â Sukuna rasps out, his eyes locked dead onto yours as usual.
He was so focused on you, so eager to make you cum. Obviously, heâd never felt anything like this before so he never wants it to end. And perhaps thatâs the only reason why he hasnât emptied himself into you yet.
Every time youâre felt leaving another bright red mark on his back, he lets out a low hiss before flashing a smirk down at you, thrusts growing harder. Then thereâs the way you just gape up at him, jaw dangling as youâre so clearly lost in pleasure, and pussy swallowing him in whole each time he fucks himself back into you.
And your little gasps of, âFeels s-so good Kuna, donât stop.â Have him reeling back on purpose, pretending to mistakenly slip his cock out of you for a moment only to slap his fat cockhead against your needy hole and then push all of himself right back in.
With a smug expression on his face, âDonât tell me what tâdo,â He responds.
âI jusâ did,â You argue back all in one breath.
God, he- , âI hate you,â The words are leaving his lips yet again but he canât stop driving his dick inside you. Youâre so fucking warm, so welcoming for him, so honeyed and sweet inside. Hell, for a second he wonders what youâd taste like on his tongueâdespite never even going down on someone before.
âYeah,â You flash a fucked-out little smile up at him and your walls grip onto him tighter, making his brows twist up, âBut you love fuckinâ me.â Your little whisper makes him shudder.
He nearly cums at that, releasing a strangled groan before he just nods almost obediently, âUhuh.â Sukuna mumbles, his hate for you growing with every passing second.
There you are under him, still teasing him despite the expression of pleasure plastered across your face, âYeah?â
âM-Mhm,â He grumbles in response.
He canât help but just agree with you. Of course he adores fucking you. If anything, he doesnât think heâd prefer it be anyone else. After watching your cute ass all composed every week in class, listening to the way you lecture him for not paying attention as if you actually care about him, watching you grow surprised today at the way he can get things done when he puts in an effort-
Shit, of course he wanted to see you like thisâsplayed out like a pretty little slut for him, gasping his name, looking him in the eye, and allowing him to fuck you. God, his mind is spinning. He canât think at all.
So lost in his head, youâre left spasming below him because heâs still thumbing at your clit and his cock is as unforgiving as ever, âSukuna,â His name rolls off of your tongue beautifully and heâs left in awe above you.
Tilting his head, âWhat?â Sukuna breathes as heâs pulled from his daze and back to the present.
âMake me cum,â You order so suddenly.
As that third word leaves those lips of yours, Sukuna smirks knowingly and he leans up a little just to angle himself better inside you. He glances down at your cunt, biting his lip at the sight of his cock bulging inside you, watching himself push in and out for a second before his smirk turns into a lazy little smile.
âAlready didâ,â He scoffs, flicking his eyes back up to you.
Your brows twist up, âWha-â
âAre you that dumb when cock is inside yaâ?â He utters meanly and earns an immediate squeeze of your gummy walls around his veiny shaft, âYou came a few minutes ago, brat.â
âIâŠâ Your expression becomes dumbfounded and in an instant, youâre the one left embarrassed.
Which he finds all too cute, âFelt good though.â He comments smugly, looking back down to where youâre connected and tilting his head at the sight.
Fuck, he was so sexy above you. Even on his chest, bright red scratches decorated his skin. When did you do that? His nipples were still as flushed as his face and you wanted so badly to reach out and flick your fingers against them again.
Pouting, âSukuna-â
âDo it again fâme,â The man cuts off.
You canât even get a response out before heâs leaning down again, âI-â
This time youâre cut off by him pressing your legs together and against your chest, loving the pretty sight of you folded and bent to his will like this. All he can do is stare down and watch himself fuck you, seeing your swollen lips take in his fat length so fucking beautifully. Itâs like you were made for him or something.
Your cunt only molds around his cock, sucking him in whenever he pulls out like you never wanted him to leave you. He could feel every throb of your pussy when he spoke to you, every squeeze of your warmth when he reached deeper than before, and fuck was he enamored by every second of it.
âPlease,â He says breathlessly all of a sudden, itching to watch you cum on his cock this time around.
His begging is followed by him moving his hand back down to your pussy, his thumb sliding back in search of your clit. Rubbing those maddening little circles once he finds it, Sukuna focuses most of his attention on your body. Every little jump you make when he swats his thumb to the left, every pitch in your moan when he thrusts inside you at a certain paceâSukuna soon smiles once heâs got you all figured out.
âOh fuck,â You whimper, tossing your head back against the couch as your eyes loll to the back of your hand.
With that knowing smile on his face, the couch creaks with his rough thrusts inside you, âStop makinâ me beg you for shit,â Sukuna grunts before gifting your throbbing pussy with a little smack, âJusâ give it tâme.â
âSukuna-, ah,â Youâre choking at the sensation and your cunt narrows even more around him.
His toned pelvis smacks against you over and over, heavy balls hitting your ass with each shove of his fat cock inside your warmth, âFuck,â The man heaves as he feels himself steadily growing addicted.
Why the hell didnât he have sex with someone sooner?
âMâgonna cum,â You soon whine out to the man.
To which he clashes into you faster, feining for it, âPlease, fuckinâ need it,â Sukuna groans before pressing down against you again.
His thrusts grow uneven and jagged, eyes rolling back when he feels you finally cumming around his cock for a second time. You were squeezing him so tight. All he could do was moan at how perfect you were.
âShiit,â He huffs, his cock twitching wildly inside you before his mind goes completely blank, âI love you-â
Your brows immediately twist up, âWha-â
And then heâs painting your walls white. Grunting, groaning, moaning-, hell, you name it and the sound was leaving his lips as he fucks his orgasm into you.
Then heâs babbling mindless little praises of, âLove this fuckinâ pussy,â Lost in filling you with his cum and listening to you whimper from overstimulation.
Gifting you with praise after praise about how beautiful you are under him like this, how much he adores his name rolling off your tongue. He canât even fathom how much cum is spilling into you, velvety thick ropes painting your walls a creamy white to the point where it spills out of you and coats his hefty base with a filthy ring of white.
All while he continued to praise you, going as far as thank you in quiet little whispers. God, he was out of his mind. He wasnât thinking in the slightest, his mouth was just saying shit.
So much so that heâs barely lucid as his high comes down, doesnât process a thing he said to you moments ago, and just lays there for a while with his cock resting inside you. All he can do is pant heavily as he rests his body on top of you, not yet pulling out and leaving his softened cock inside you.
Youâre completely still beneath him for a while, trying to catch your breath as your legs feel temporarily numb. You couldnât get those three words he spoke to you out of your head.
His tone was so damn soft and vulnerable, just replaying it in your head made you smile. Before he notices your expression though, you wipe the smirk off of your face and coo his name softly, âSukunaâŠ?â
âDonât.â Is all he has to say to you. He was well aware of what heâd said to you.
He didnât mean it, of course. He was simply⊠lost in the moment.
âAww,â You purr, an obvious breathlessness to your tone, âYou said you loved me cause I took your virginit-â
Sukuna lets out a mean groan before moving your legs apart so he can meet your eyes again, âIâm gonna fucking kill you.â
You flash a pout to mock him, âWhy? âCause I didnât say it back?â
His face is all different shades of blush but he still looks as mean and grumpy as ever, âNoâŠâ
âYou sure?â You tease further.
All he can do is roll his eyes at you, âFuck you.â
And, naturally, you only continue, âI think you did that alreadyâŠâ
Sukuna sighs, âJust.. Donât tell anyone about this.â
âAs long as you promise weâll do this more often.â
âI-, hah,â He smirks, âWhat are you, some kinda cockhungry slut?â
âNoâŠâ Your eyes drag themselves elsewhere for a moment, âBut for you, maybe.â
âMh.â Sukuna hums deeply, an unavoidable smile spreading across his face, âI think I like that.â
âI think you love it-â
âMâgonna âloveâ fucking the snarky responses outtaâ your mouth in a second if you keep it up,â He says flawlessly.
All you can do is swallow down whatever it is you were going to respond to that with.
To which he smiles, âUhuh, thatâs what I thought.â
perm sukuna tags (1/2):
@crude-saint @cupidstrace @iiakithegoat @hellodeeyanna @navyllll @grignardsreagent @kingofpiratesiguess @aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa444 @etsuniiru @starsryi
@not-a-glad-gladiator @audiblez @2kool4skoolll @o4tmilf @elliescumtubeslut @daxphoriax @gorouenjoyer @oookore @whore4hobie @blubearxy
@wonderfullymickey @iaintblockinnobody @anothergojostan @kitassecretgf @iam-souless @nanamitiddiechomper @ohreallyfriend @kunababy @withersworld @lilacsforveins
@suguphile @megottheswaskikacooooke @kvsqkiii @yourlocalcatscammer @lucy-lulu @sukubusss @sweetieelilii @lisabelhyhn @bellesiy @serenadesvt
@simp4idk @haazelnuutloover @booboobear-12 @aryaelan @mattsukitty @riameriash @liasacountgothacked @arminseas2 @5seos @palanggaaa
This Megan Thee Stallion breakup is the most "whole house mad" shit I've ever witnessed on the internet.
Rap fans mad
Anime fans mad
Twice fans mad
Ateez fans mad
Bts fans mad
Influencers mad
Celebrities mad
Arab people mad (I don't know what I missed there)
People who don't even like her mad
Hasan Piker mad
The. Whole. House.
ⷠUnspoken Conditions ⊠7 || Summer Break
[ SERIES SYNOPSIS ] â it was obvious when this started, it was simply a mutual understanding between two horny college students â with very high libidos, and didnât want any random stds â that this was purely a sexual relationship only. and yet, both of you are unintentionally toeing the line between that and something else ⊠frat!kuna fwb ⊠ongoing series
[ TAGS ] â MDNI. 18+ only. nsfw. angst. FAMILY DRAMA. a wholeeeeeee lot of plot. fwb. slight degradation. dumbification. sukunaâs thick happy trail. SEXTING. phone sex. dacryphilia. toxic frat culture. sukuna has ANGER issues. crying. toxic co-dependency. underage drinking. TRAUMA. domestic abuse. child abuse. depression. anxiety. wc: 22.9k
series masterlist âź previous chp âź next chp (coming soon)
SLAP!
the sound cracks across the parking lot, sharp enough to startle a flock of birds.
thirteen-year-old sukuna barely flinches. his head turns with the force of it, cheek already burning, his soccer bag slips from his shoulder and thuds against the concrete.
late evening sun hangs low behind the bleachers, practice long over. most of the other kids have already been picked up. a few parents glance over, then quickly look away. koari stands in front of him, chest heaving, car door still open behind her.
inside, the engine is running. yuujiâs wailing from the backseat, loud and hiccuping cries that only get worse the longer she ignores him. choso, five years old and small for his age, is twisted around in his booster seat trying to shove a stuffed animal into the babyâs hands, whispering frantic little âitâs okay, itâs okayâs that donât help.
sukuna is still in uniform. dark soccer jersey clinging damp to his back, the team crest stitched over his chest, grass stains streaked across his socks and shorts. sweat runs down the side of his tanned face, mixing with the heat blooming under her hand.
âso you think youâre funny?â she snaps, grabbing sukuna by the front of his practice jersey. âmaking me sit here while you show off?â
practice ended ten minutes ago.
sukuna doesnât answer. he never does, not to her. his red eyes stare straight ahead, unblinking.
her grip tightens. âI have two kids in that car. two! and you think doing stupid little tricks with your friends matters more than my fucking time?â
yuujiâs crying spikes.
âlook at what youâre doing!â she shrieks, gesturing wildly toward the car like the babyâs distress is his fault. âyou stress him out! youâre selfish, just like your father. always needing attention. god!â she exhales like itâs hard to breathe just thinking about his dad, âzero fucking backbone as a man.â
choso is watching through the window now.
sukuna finally moves, just enough to shrug her fingers off his shirt, slow and controlled.
âIt was practice,â he says flatly.
the second slap is louder. harder.
âdonât talk back to me.â
a car drives past the lot entrance and slows. sukuna notices it, makes eye contact with a teammate sitting in the backseat. then the car keeps going.
her eyes flick to the snake bite piercings in her step-sonâs bottom lip. her lips pull tight in the same familiar disgust as if the two earrings he got a few months ago wasnât bad enough. âyouâre still putting more garbage like that on your face,â her insides twist, âlooking like a degenerate.â
she leans in closer, nails biting into his arm. her voice drops, venomous and low. âyou think youâre special because you can kick a ball? youâre not. youâre a burden. do you understand me? a burden I didnât sign up for, but Iâm still forced to take care of.â
yuuji is still crying. choso is getting anxious. sukuna stands there, cheek red from the slap, eyes dry, jaw locked so tight it aches. he doesnât look at her. he does it on purpose, heâd rather get hit again than look at this woman.
the third slap draws the metallic taste of blood blooming where his teeth cut the inside of his mouth.
kaori pulls her hand up again for a fourth, eyes dark and filled with vicious malice towards this thirteen year old boy. her hand shakes as she watches the boy lick his bloody lip, cold. he never reactsâŠhe acts like sheâs beneath him. as if! kaoriâs anger bubbles over, hot fury leaking from her pores as she heaves, fingers flexing ready to slap him once more. but she catches sukunaâs gaze flick up at the car, at his brothers.
choso is sticking his head out of the car, eyes rimmed red. âmommy! yuu wont stop crying!â
koariâs head whips around, âchoso,â she snaps. âwhat did I tell you about interrupting meââ
âbut heâsââ
âchoso!â
choso flinches, eyes brimming with more tears. sukunaâs fist clenches, glare finally flicking up to this women. âheâs just a kid,â he grits.
koari turns back to the thirteen year old. her eyes wild and manic. she can see the disgusting bubbling behind his gaze, the scowl on his face.
âdonât you dare speak about my parenting,â she seethes. her face curls into a snarl. âyouâre the parasite. sucking my soul, your brothers souls, your fathersâeveryone would be better off without you.â
sukuna remains still. thick brow permanently sewn together, glare cutting through her. her teeth grind, hands trembling with more pent up anger. finally having enough of yuujiâs wailing and chosoâs fidgeting, she curls her lip, turning on her heel.
âfind your own way home.â
the engine roars as koari pulls out of the lot, leaving a quiet sukuna behind. and only when the car is out of sight does sukuna let his hand tremble and hot tears cascade down his cheeks.
âFUCKFUCKFUCK FUUUCK HERRR!!â sukuna screams at the top of his lungs, slamming his duffle bag on the concrete. again and again. and again. the strap rips, flying against the concrete just for sukuna to drop to his knees, fist rising high before slamming it into the duffle. all his pent up rage unleashes on his equipment, however, his shin guards, cleats, and water bottle are used to it by now. ultimately laying under him as he falls on the pavement, burying his face deep in his duffle, and screaming with all his might.
his throat tearing.
ââ
âyouâre lying.â
sukuna sits across from choso. his jaw locked, eyes dead, and muscles tense.
the tv was turned off minutes ago after sukuna finally came home. the blanket lays on the floor after sukuna ripped it off the fifteen year old, who was passed out on the couch. choso frowns, brown hair a mess, and dark circles under his brown eyes.
âI answered you. you can choose to believe me or notââ
âI donât,â the eldest cuts, arms crossed, biceps flexing with frustration, glaring at his idiot brother. âwhyâd she give you that money?â
choso frowns, sweat building on his forehead. âI donât know. maybe go ask her, since youâre the only one that can talk to her.â
sukuna scowls, biting back his tongue. he runs his hands through his hair. choso watches, back slouched against the couch, sweats and tshirt wrinkled from sleep, and one leg tucked under him. he doesnât say anything. just observes, and quietly prays that sukuna doesnât know find anything out.
âyuuâs telling me youâre practicing with yâr friends?â
chosoâs eyes widen momentarily, sukuna catches it. âyeahâŠâ
âhow often you guys practice? yuuâs makinâ it seem like itâs an everyday thing.â
choso shrugs, âweâre workinâ out a new song, and ino keeps fuckinâ up the drum solo.â sukuna leans back in the arm chair, eyes narrowing. choso frowns noticing the way his older brother is scrutinizing him. he looks away, eyeing the blanket sukuna snatched off him. âcan I go back to sleep now?â
sukuna pokes his cheek with his tongue, shrugging.
the teen grumbles, pushing off the couch to head to his room. âwhatever. canât even sleep on the stupid couch without getting botheredââ
âso if I talk to your ino friend, he can tell me where youâve been?â
choso halts. sukuna doesnât need to glance over his shoulder to know that his brother stopped. chosoâs hands ball into fists, heart thudding, as it always does when he starts fabricating a lie. âyou donât even know who ino isââ
âthe kid with the beanie. we met when you told me to fuck off and ran away with em. I remember.â
âI never told you to âfuck offâ .â choso tsks, sweat slowly sliding down his back.
sukuna turns, arm over the chair, glaring straight at his brother, âyou basically did when thatâs the last time you fuckinâ talked tâme. giving me the goddamn silent treatment like Iâm your girlfriend.â
choso feels his blood start to pump louder, his eyes narrowing like knives, letting go of all composure, âmaybe I just donât have shit to say to you â ever think of that?!â
sukuna turns even more, âyeah, I donât miss being a stupid fucking teenagerâjesus christ!â he aggressively points at his brother. âyou really have no fucking clue the shit Iâm keeping from you. thatâs why you think you can get fucking angry at me!â
âI donât give a shit! thereâs other people besides you that can think for themselvesâ!â
sukunaâs hand trembles, eyes burning red.
âif I want to talk to her thatâs my choiceââ
âyouâre fifteen, fuck do you think you are?â sukuna scoffs, cold, âwe needa sit down and get ya fucking checked in the head. seriously cho, yâer getting under my fucking skinââ
âgood,â he spits, chest heaving.
sukunaâs jaw locks. âgive me yâer phone.â
chosoâs eyes widen, immediately taking a step back, âno-why?â
âgonna call your friend,â sukuna reaches for chosoâs pocket, but the teen is quickly dodging, deflecting his brotherâs arm,
âIâm gonna tell grampsâ!â
âtell him!â
as strong and intimidating as sukuna is to outsiders. heâs also the eldest of three boys, and will ultimately fall on the ground tackling his teenage brother. and unlike the frat, sukuna has never raised a fist or hand, to either of his little brothers. the most his soul can do, is physically overpower them.
which has led to chosoâs arm getting pinned under his brothers knee. sukuna straddling the youngerâs chest, letting the teen thrash beneath him as he keeps a hand pressed to chosoâs cheek, other hand grabbing at the phone that has fallen to the ground.
âyou started going to the gym, ya little shit?â sukuna grunts.
choso groans in frustration, arms flexing to grab his brothers shirt. âget off me!â
âfuckâs your password?â sukuna attempts, typing out chosoâs birthday. incorrect. yuuâs birthday. incorrect. his birthday. incorrect. sukuna frowns.
âwoahhh dudeee, whatâs going on?â
the color drains from chosoâs face. his eyes bulging as he tilts his head back.
standing tall and curious â his best friend â ino.
it takes, a little under, a second for sukuna to glance up, spotting the boy, then the beanie, then chosoâs reaction.
âino?â
ino freezes, eyes widening as he makes direct eye contact with chosoâs very intimidating, very scary, older brother. ây-YES?â
chosoâs eyes look like theyâre going to burst from their sockets. heâs aggressively shaking his head, struggling underneath the two hundred pound athlete. âgo home inoââ
âstay.â
ino freezes, sweat quickly building under his beanie.
âdonâtâlisten to him,â choso falls back, sukuna letting go, no longer fighting over the phone. choso turns on his knees, eyes wide when he sees sukuna already walking up to his friend.
âdid you guys do anything other than practice with your band this week?â sukunaâs first question already had ino glancing at choso. âdonât look at him, look at me.â inoâs eyes snap to sukuna, sweating. ânow answer.â
âhey dudeââ
âIâm not âyr fuckin dude,â sukuna barks, patience paper thin.
choso tsks, fixing his torn shirt from the tackling earlier, staring directly at his friend, as if thatâll get them to communicate telepathically. forgetting that ino secretly admires his older brother.
âwe got a couple burgers from the diner and uh we went again after the schoolâs soccer game yesterdayââ
âchoso went to a game?â sukunaâs brow hits the ceiling, whipping his head to see choso frowning.
âis that so surprising?â he says.
sukunaâs eyes narrow. âyou wouldnât goââ he stops. an uncomfortable twist preventing him from finishing the sentence. he turns back to ino. âcan you drive?â
ino shakes his head.
âwhoâs driving ya both around town then?â
âmaru,â ino replies, quickly elaborating before sukuna snaps again. âheâs a friend and plays base, for our band and he was the one driving last time when youââ
âso choso didnât go anywhere alone?â
ino hesitates.
choso takes a step forward, sweat trickling down his back as ino chokes. idiot! choso screams internally, eyes snapping to his brother. he definitely noticed that!
sukunaâs crossed arms flex in anger, pushing further, the room bending around him causing the teens to sweat buckets, âwhereâd he goââ
ino loses itâ
âhe just left to talk to a girl and got rejectedâreal badâ that was the only time he leftâbut also when weâre in school, since we have separate classes. but he just got rejected by a girl he has a crush on during the soccer game so we ditched during halftime.â
the house is dead silent.
sukuna blinks.
his brotherâs friend really is a fucking character. his head drops forward, fingers rubbing his eyes, aware of the two boys holding their breaths as he realigns his thoughts, grinding down on his teeth.
ino shoots his friend a nervous look. the other frowns shrugging at him before lifting a finger to his lips, easily mimicking a donât say anything else face.
the sharp inhale of the six foot so man has both teens looking back at him.
âyou going out to practice now?â
the question hangs in the air. neither boy responding, theyâre so shocked. but once sukuna looks back at choso, and the teen catches the anger slowly dissipating from his brother â he nods.
sukuna turns away, walking further into the house towards his yuujiâs room, the exhaustion hangs heavy on his taunt shoulders. ready to crash.
choso watches. silent, heart thudding against his ribs, untilâ
âso you believe me now?â
sukuna halts.
the sharp jab hangs in the air.
sukunaâs back is turned. ino hold his breath, eyes clenching shut in panicked anxiety, heart thudding agaisnt his chest. why does he have to be in the middle of this???
sukuna rolls his neck back. a crack. his glare pierces the air, holding choso in place.
âwatch it,â he mutters, low.
choso averts his gaze, eyes flicking toward the kitchen like heâs suddenly interested in anything but sukuna. his face twists into a sharp, frustrated scowl, hair a mess from his older brotherâs rough handling. yetâŠhe stays quiet. for once.
the silence stretches, tense and unnatural, as sukuna rolls his neck back again, another crack slipping out as he finally turns away. his patience is gone. whatever energy he had left is gone. he doesnât say anything else. just walks off.
his steps are heavier now as he disappears down the hall and into his old room. the door clicks shut behind him, finally ending the interrogation.
only then do choso and ino move. ino lets out a breath heâd been holding, glancing back at him. âdude, iââ
ânot here,â choso cuts in sharply.
heâs already moving to his room, fast and clearly agitated. he grabs his guitar, shoving it into its case, he yanks his backpack off the chair. thereâs no second thought or pause. he doesnât even bother with a change of clothes, or the bathroom. he just wants out of the house.
ino watches for half a second before following, the two of them slipping out as quickly as they can.
meanwhile, sukunaâs body feels like itâs shutting down. his thighs ache from the week, his back tight from the studying stress and impromptu practice, his shoulders are heavy like theyâre carrying something he still canât fucking shake. and his head wonât stop pounding. all his thoughts stack onto one another, overlapping and refusing to quiet down. he doesnât have the energy anymore.
so when he pushes open the door to what used to be his roomânow yuujiâsâhe barely registers anything. megumiâs curled up on the air mattress in the middle of the room, and yuujiâs splayed half over the covers of the full sized bed. sukuna simply crosses the small room, and drops onto the empty side of the bed. the mattress dips under his weight, drawing a small shuffle from yuuji, but sukunaâs already gone. his eyes shut, and his body gives out the second he hits the sheets.
âââ
your lips part into a small smile, eyes soft but distant, your mind is already drifting somewhere else as your stomach churns with something uneasy. utahime invited a few of her friends out with you and shoko, and the place is packed. the bar is crowded, loud, warm, and full of people clinging to the last bit of freedom before summer actually begins.
everyoneâs talking about something. internships, trips, plans, and you find yourself wondering how many people in here would rather stay exactly where they are than go home. thereâs definitely a few. itâs not just you. but utahime isnât one of them.
sheâs mid-conversation with the girls she brought, laughing lightly as she talks about still deciding whether to take that internship or not. you catch pieces of it, enough to make your chest tighten, and you hate yourself for it. youâre happy for her. of course you are. but godâyouâd take anything over going back home in a few weeks to work at the hospital.
âare you sure?â shoko interrupts, her drink already half gone, eyes flicking over you like she knows youâve been somewhere else this entire time.
you snort, nodding. âobviously. my sister isnât gonna be in her room anyway.â
shoko sighs in relief, shoulders dropping. âthank yooou, i wouldâve taken your floor too.â
you laugh, shaking your head, but it fades quickly. your mind drifts again. your chest tightens.
you really are a fucking failure.
the thought hits hard this time, sitting heavier in your stomach. three years in school and you couldnât land a single internship. not one. all you wanted was to try somethingâanythingâthat isnât doing clinics at a fucking hospital. you just wanted to see what another life would be like. one that wouldnât make you anxious, or have you feeling empty.
but no. life has other plans.
and those plans are dragging you back home for another suffocating summer, stuck in a hospital you hate, with your father watching you too closely, asking too many questions about a future you donât even understand yourself. and god forbid you say youâre unsure. even worse is the look they give you when you admit youâre still figuring things out. and you canât even stand up for yourself, which everyone loved to shove in your face.
seriously! three years in and youâre still lost? itâs pathetic. you press your lips together, jaw tightening as the thoughts spiral. theyâre constant, familiar. and thenâ
the door swings open. a burst of noise cuts through the bar as a group of rowdy frat boys and athletes pile in. theyâre laughing loud, and their energy is immediate. many heads turn instinctively, the shift in atmosphere familiar to the group.
shoko is the first to notice.
âoh they made it.â sheâs already grinning as she spots her two close friends in the bunch. âyo!â she calls. your brows pinch slightly as you glance over. gojo and geto spotting their brunette friend, dragging along a surprisingly willing nanami, behind them. a few others flood in as well, loud and chaotic as ever.
you subtly sit up in anticipation. your eyes quietly scanning the group without meaning to.âŠ.
where is he?
you swallow, something tight forming in your throat as you shift in your seat, crossing your legs slowly, like itâll ground you. he left your apartment yesterday afternoon. you donât know when exactly, all you remember is the quiet disappointment you felt when you sat up on your bed, half expecting him to come out of the bathroom and give you another rough round of sex, to mush your brain up.
thatâs the whole point of this. heâs left like this many times before. but this time you justâŠyou wanted a little more before the breakâŠ
your gaze flicks back to the door, then to the group again.
heâs not here. does that mean he went back home already? that fast? your jaw tightens, fingers curling slightly around your glass as something uneasy settles deeper in your chest. you sure as hel didnât come here for him, but now that your brain wonât quiet down, you wanted him to silence it for you.
âare these your first drinks?â gojo barks as he drops onto the stool across from you and shoko, already leaning too far forward like heâs been here for hours instead of minutes.
geto slides into the empty seat beside you, casual as ever, lifting your glass and bringing it to his nose. his brows knit almost immediately. âwhatâis this a virgin?â
shoko snorts, shoulders shaking beside you. you wave him off lazily, lips curling. âi was just warming myself up.â
âyou warm yourself up with a drink before shots, not with a virgin!â gojo fires back, loud enough that a couple people nearby glance over in annoyance.
shoko leans across the table, sliding her drink toward him. âyour warm-up is all you usually need, satoru.â
the frat president scoffs, rolling his eyes. âIâm actually much better at holding my liquor now.â
the lie sits there. then.
gojo, two drinks in and one shot later: wasted. you, one drink in and three shots later: wasted.
the bar is chaos. the music is too loud, lights too warm, voices overlapping until everything blends into one loud, buzzing blur. at some point, utahimeâs friends join the table, then more people, then somehow you all migrate toward the dart boards in the back.
youâre laughing too loud. leaning too much. mostly on shoko. sometimes on gojoâwho is absolutely no help, because heâs swaying just as bad, arm slung over your shoulders, yelling nonsense in your ear.
nanami stands off to the side, drink in hand, watching the two of you with thinly veiled disapproval, though thereâs a faint hint of amusement in his eyes. getoâs not far behind him, a little too relaxed now, watching everything unfold like itâs entertainment as a few guys from the team chat with him.
and then thereâs hiromi higurama. nanamiâs friend, that rarely, if ever, makes an appearance. heâs a first year law student, whoâs overstressed, sharp as shit, and heâs put-together in a way that doesnât match the rest of you. but heâs here, along with a couple other law and grad students, leaning against the table like he got dragged here and decided to stay anyway. heâs older by only a couple years, but it shows in the way he carries himself and in the way he watches.
utahime lines up her shot. âcomeback comeback,â she chants confidently. you and shoko are laughing, booing her as she squints, closing one eye, then the dart flies.
it hits the board, and of course, she immediately loses her balanceâ âshit!ââ she stumbles back, catching herself and slamming right into you.
your footing slips just enough, a surprised laugh bursting out of you as you tip backwards. whyâre you always falling?!
but then hand catches you. itâs steady and firm. higuramaâs arm wraps around you just enough to keep you upright, pulling you back against the edge of the table before you can actually fall.
âcareful,â he mutters, low, close to your ear.
youâre already laughing.
âiâm goodâiâm good,â you insist, even though youâre still half-leaning into him for a second longer than necessary, your balance completely shot. and he doesnât move right away. his arm loosens around your waist, but hovers close as you sway. his eyes soften, quietly watching you as you slap utahime lightly on the shoulder.
geto notices. his brows furrow slightly, just for a second, catching the way higuramaâs gaze lingers. itâs subtle, but there.
meanwhile, youâre completely oblivious. already turning back, leaning into shoko again as gojo starts arguing about the rules of darts like he invented the fucking game.
ânahh you literally had us playing a different version last time,â you hiccup, words slurring together as you try to explain gojoâs made up rules he came up with a few weeks ago. no one fully understanding the direction of the conversation anymore as gojo scoffs, swaying as he shakes his head.
âno no no, last,â he hiccups, âlast time, we were playing as individuals, now weâreâhicâweâre goingâdoing teams!â
âwhatâre you guys talking about?â higurama voice lowers, leaning down slightly, lips ghosting your ear so you can hear him over the music, eyes still on you.
âjust something that happened at one of their frat parties,â you explain, gesturing vaguely toward gojo and geto, who are now mid-argument with utahime over who actually won the last round. your laugh bubbles up again, light, careless.
the rest of the night blurs. unaware of how your friends became just as distracted, and careless, that when you felt the same voice ghost your ear again, your mind couldnât help the blurred image it was conjuring up.
âyou want me to grab you some water?â the smooth voice of higurama had you swaying closer to hear him. he leans in, basically yelling over the music to repeat what heâd asked.
your hazy eyes hum, smiling widely when he passes you and the rest of the table some water bottles.
as the bar came to a close, your small group migrated to the pier. gojo and geto easily buying a couple six packs from the liquor store and meeting the rest of you guys on the picnic bench. gojo and nanami were in a heated argument about summer plans, whilst shoko sat on the table smoking her cigarette and passing up another drink.
âdo you even here yourself,â nanami scoffs with uncanny annoyance. his face is dusted pink from the alcohol. his navy sweater is off and tossed over his shoulder, white tee straining over a surprising build of pure muscle. his large hand is still holding his half empty can of beer as he sneers at his high school friend.
âyeah i sound like a fucking geniusââ
âI just told you Iâm notâhicâ Iâm not gonna be free,â nanami is wasted, you guess he was just as a stressed during finals week. his jaw clenches as gojo laughs louder.
âyou said you finish your work thing end of July, so the trip is planned for the next day!â
shoko and geto are in hysterics as gojo rage baits their poor friend. youâre still chatting with utahime, yuno, and higuramaâwaitâ
âshouldnât you be like, busy?â your voice cuts as you point to the stranger, higurama, with a raised brow.
the law student glances over. it isnât a struggle when heâs been straddling the bench to lean an arm on the table and face you for the entirety of the time. a casual smile graces his lips, glancing at your expectant eyes, before shrugging.
âwhy would i be busy?â
âbecause youâre older, and in law school, so you should be busy, notânot hanging out with lo-hic-losers,â you slur. no filter much?
utahime gasps, her pale cheeks flushed from the alcohol. âIâm not a loser!â
yuno nods, absentmindedly, hand subtly brushing utahimeâs wrist.
who isnât drunk here?
âyou know what I mean,â you mutter, speaking over the rim of your can. drinking sucks.
higurama raises a brow, fingers drumming over the surface of the table. his tie hangs around his shoulders and his dress shirt sleeves are rolled up. he quietly studies you. âI finished finals too. are law students not allowed to relax?â
you quietly absorb his words, glancing at his eyes then away. you shrug.
the man smiles, swinging his leg over, moving to stand up.
your eyes widen. wait, is he leaving??
âIâll see ya kento,â he swings back the rest of his drink and leaves it with the rest of the empty cans on the table. he spares you a final glance, then walks away.
âwhat theââ you gape, eyes snapping to utahime and yuno, drunk as shit and jaws agape. âthat wasnât because of me?â
âyou basically asked him why the fuck heâs hanging out with us,â yuno calls out, utahime nods.
your face flushes hot, stomach churning with guilt, âthat wasnâtâI didnât say it like that.â
âsounded like it, babe,â utahime quietly agrees.
your brows furrow, glancing back at the man walking away. ânow I feel bad,â you cringe at yourself, heart beating against your chest as you move before thinking, which usually happens when you get drunk.
âwhatâre you doing??â utahime gasps as you start sprinting towards higurama.
âto apologize!â
however, running and drinking wasnât a very good combo, not only were you swaying, but your stomach was turning in a very familiar way.
âhiguââ
your eyes widen. fuck.
you quickly detour to the bushes, stomach emptying onto the poor greenery. why are things turning out this way?
âwhyâd you do that?â the soft, firm hand on your back, briefly startles you, but you turn, puking some more. eyes tearing up.
âcan you call ryo?â you mutter, mind still lost and not grasping the present.
âryo?â higurama gently guides you to the empty bench closer to the water, and away from the bushes you barfed on. âsit down.â
you listen, body unable to unwind, as you rest your back against the seat, eyes distant as the waves crash. you swallow thickly, still catching your breath. the nausea lingers, sour and stubborn, sitting heavy in your chest.
ânever mind,â you mumble after a second, voice hoarse. âryoâs not here.â the words come out softer than you expect, and then they land. your brows pinch faintly. youâre only now realizing what you just said, who you just asked for. your stomach twists againâbut this time itâs not from the alcohol.
higurama doesnât comment on it. he just watches you for a moment longer before shifting beside you, settling onto the bench with a quiet exhale. his legs stretch out in front of him, dress shoes planted against the pavement, knees spread just enough to take up space. his sleeves are still rolled up to his forearms, the fabric slightly wrinkled now, the night has worn on him too. one hand rests loosely against his thigh, the other drapes along the back of the benchâclose enough to you without actually touching.
for a while, neither of you say anything. just the sound of the water, waves crashing softly against the pier, steady. the noise fills the silence without demanding anything from it. you stare out at it, eyes unfocused, your mind drifting somewhere you donât want to follow.
then, quietlyâŠ
âwhy did youâŠ.why did you decide on law?â it comes out almost absent. it feels like youâre asking just to fill the space. thatâs what you tell yourself. but you quietly wait for his answer.
higurama glances at you, just briefly, before his gaze returns to the water. he takes his time answering. âi want to help people,â he says at first, simple, but his voice doesnât stop there. ânot in the⊠uh idealistic way people say it,â he adds, quieter now. ânot likeâsaving the world or anything like that. the worldâs fucking shit and people are cruel...â
you glance at him quietly.
his jaw shifts slightly, choosing his words carefully. âi just⊠didnât like how often people get stuck with decisions that arenât really theirs. bad situations. bad systems. and no one actually explains anything to them.â he exhales softly through his nose, fingers tapping once against his leg. âso i figured if i study it, maybe i could make it a little less unfair for someone.â
thereâs no arrogance in it. no need for validation. just matter-of-fact.
you look away from him, eyes fixed on the water, watching the way it moves. the constant, endlessness of it⊠it knows where itâs going even when you donât. your chest tightens faintly, something uncomfortable settling deep in your ribs, because he sounds so sure. even in the way he talks about it, even with his pauses, he still chose something and committed to it. like he knows why heâs hereâŠunlike you,
your fingers curl slightly in your lap. âthatâsâŠâ you start, but the word trails off, dissolving before it can become anything real. you donât finish it. instead, you just nod a little to yourself, swallowing whatever else was going to come out, letting the silence settle back in.
this time, it feels heavier.
heâs quiet for a moment after you trail off, the sound of the water filling in the space again. then, without looking at you, he asks, âwhy are you doing medicine?â
the question hits harder than it should. itâs simple. but it lands somewhere deep. your breath stutters, just slightly, and before you can stop itâbefore you can control itâyou feel it. that awful, tight pressure climbing up your chest, wrapping around your throat like a wire pulling too tight.
fuck. this is why you hate drinking.
your eyes sting, vision blurring as you blink once, then again, trying to push it back down, but it doesnât work. it never really does when youâre like this, when everything is already sitting too close to the surface. this is the reason you drank. you just wanted one night. one stupid, fun night with your friends before you all go for the summer. not this.
a tear slips down your cheek. then another. itsâs quiet, you mood unannounced. higurama notices immediately, because you donât even try to hide it.
âi donât know,â you admit, voice small and uneven. your gaze stays forward, locked on the water like if you look anywhere else you might actually break. âi donât know if i wanna do it⊠but likeââ your throat tightens, words catching. âi donât know what to do.â
it comes out in pieces. fragile. honest even though you didnât mean to be and in a way you rarely ever just say without feeling like youâre being judged. but youâre too drunk to feel insecure or embarrassed.
higurama doesnât interrupt, doesnât rush to fill the silence. his gaze drifts back to the waves, giving you space while he stays right there beside you.
his arm, that was resting on the back of the bench, gently brushes your arm. steady, grounding, and nothing more. itâs not possessive. not suggestive. just⊠there. and you donât even realize that heâs not looking at you like that, anymore. not right now. whatever flicker of interest was there earlier is gone and now replaced with something calmer and more aware.
you swallow, voice quieter now. âdid you always know what you wanted?â you ask, barely above a whisper. âor did you just⊠force yourself to like it?â
higurama exhales softly, leaning back against the bench, arm still resting around you. his head tilts slightly as he looks out at the water again, thinking.
âI highly doubt anyone knows what theyâre doing,â he says after a beat. âpeople just get better at pretending they do.â thereâs a faint edge of something dry in his tone. âpeople talk about âpathsâ like theyâre set. like you pick one thing and it just⊠works out.â he shakes his head slightly. âit doesnât. itâs more like⊠a series of decisions you keep making, even when youâre not sure theyâre right.â
his fingers tap lightly against your arm, absent and thoughtful. âlawâs the same way. I mean you build a case with what you have, not what you wish you had. you take the risk, present the argument, and hope it holds.â he pauses. âsometimes it doesnât.â
you nod slowly, even if your chest still feels tight, trying to absorb his words, trying to make it mean something for you. âso what if it doesnât?â you murmur, voice still unsteady. âwhat if iâm already behind?â
he glances at you this time, properly. âbehind who?â he asks simply.
you hesitate.
ââŠeveryone,â you admit, quieter. âiâve been doing the same thing every summer at a hospital. same place. same freaking thing. and everyone else is⊠doing something.â
âdo you have something else you wanna try?â he asks.
you shrug, small, helpless. âi donât knowâŠâ your voice dips, wavering, but you push through it anyway. âi want to do something else⊠but i donât have something, like, to show for it. like an internship for it, orââ you swallow hard, the words catching before they can fully form, cutting yourself off before it turns into something else. you shrug instead, tighter this time, like youâre trying to make it seem smaller than it feels.
higurama watches you for a second, piecing together what youâre actually saying underneath it.
âyou still have the hospital, though,â he says evenly. itâs not dismissive, heâs just stating it.
you make a face immediately, gaze dropping. âyeahâŠâ
âare you there the whole summer?â
you shake your head. âno⊠just a few weeks. my dad makes me do it every summer.â
thereâs a small pause.
âthen whatâs stopping you?â he asks.
you blink, glancing at him like the question doesnât fully register at first. âfrom what?â
âfrom trying something else for the rest of it,â he says simply. âyouâre acting like you need something official to justify trying something else. you donât.â
his shoulders lift in a small shrug. âinternships are just structured ways to prove interest. theyâre not the only way to have it.â
your brows pinch slightly, listening.
âif you already know you donât like the hospital, then fine. do your time there,â he continues, tone calm, grounded. âbut after that? youâve got like a month or a few weeks or whatever to do something else. you donât need a title to start figuring something out, and Iâm guessing you just wanted the title to show that youâre not behind.â
he glances at you again, more direct now. his voice softens just a fraction. âyou donât need to be good at it yet. you just need to start somewhere. but if your parents are anything like mine, then Iâm guessing they just want you to do something in the summer.â
you nod, quietly.
âdonât stress too much. people change their minds every day, and at least youâre interested in something else,â he speaks like itâs that easy, and maybe in your drunk mind, your walls have come down low enough to really listen. and it could also be because youâve heard of higurama and how hard working he is from nanami. so maybe his words mean a little more than your dad, or your sisters. âwhat exactly do you wanna do?â
you wet your lips, and higurama quietly notes how youâve stopped crying. âI wanna work in film, like screenwriting, or producing.â
his eyes widen. âfor real?â
you nod, swallowing the anxious feelings threatening to bubble up after admitting it to a complete stranger. âIâm minoring in film right now, but i really like it.â
higurama hums, sitting up straighter. âyouâre working at your dadâs hospital in the summer?â
âitâs not my dadâs hospital, heâs an attending there, but like itâs not like he owns itâbut yeah,â you correct, a slight tone shift in your voice, which higurama dismisses.
he reaches for his phone, arm moving from around your shoulder. âpretty sure my uncle has some crazy contacts. heâŠwas anentertainment lawyer for this production company a couple years ago. if you want I can see if he can give me a contact and try and introduce you for some informational meeting or something.â
your eyes burst with light.
âwait for real???â
higurama nods, âeverything is about fucking connections in that industry.â you nod along as he finds his uncleâs contact, texting him, then handing you his phone. âadd your number and email so I can send them to him too when he gets the contact.â you nod again, sitting straight as you quickly type your info. âhave you had any meetings with industry people?â
you shake your head, âjust like, meetings with my professors,â you hand him back his phone.
âno stress,â higurama reassures, saving your contact and turning his phone off. âmost first meetings like these always go the same. itâs about networking and you have a connection, so hopefully when my uncle introduces you to whoever, you have to make sure you get out of that meeting with another contact, and itâs just like a string until something sticks.â
youâre nodding along.
âwait,â your eyes widen. he quirks a brow. âIâm like really drunk, I donât wanna forget this,â you freak.
higurama snorts, pulling up your contact again, âIâll text you what I just said,â he slouches on the bench, amused when you lean close watching him type everything.
âyou got it man?!â gojo slurs, him and geto crowded around his phone as they watch their soccer captain scowl at them through facetime.
âI canât understand a fucking word you idiots are saying,â he snaps from the other side.
gojo groans, nanamiâs head popping in as he turns gojoâs wrist. âweâre planning the tripâand heâs not listening to anyoneââ
âyouâre the one thatâs not listening, i gave you dates that workââ
âthey donât work!â nanami barks, face flaming with anger and the liquor he should put down.
sukuna licks his teeth, âcall me back when you dickheads are soberââ
âwaaaaittt,â gojo whines, freeing his wrist from nanamiâs grip with tug, and inevitably falling off the seat. his phone clatters on the floor. another figure picks it up.
utahime.
âoh, you.â she frowns at the sight of the man. sukuna frowns in return. unlike gojo and geto and the rest of the guys that loosely know about his relationship with you. heâs assuming shoko and utahime are definitely less forgiving of the argument you guys had, and even if you made up, he doubts you filled them in since it was less than 48 hours ago. âjust becauseââ hiccup.
great, everyone is drunk.
âbecause youâre sleeping with my best friend, d-doesnât mean I like youââ utahime slurs, pointing at the screen. at sukuna. âand sheâsââ
yuno whoâs sitting beside her, drunk, smiles, âhey cap.â
in the minor distraction, utahime waves her crush to shh. âdid you hear what I saidââ
âyeah. did ya talk to her, or are you too drunk?â sukuna grumbles in disinterest, ready to hang up any second. he moves from his place on the couch, to the kitchen. yuuji, megumi, and their other friend, nobara, are still shouting in the background. video game blasting in the living room.
âno Iâm not talking to her, sheâs over there talking to k-kenâs friend andâhicâIâm talking to you right now, duh,â utahime scoffs.
sukunaâs movements halt.
huh?
âwho?â he asks before thinking.
utahime glances over at yuno pointing off screen. âwhat was his nameâoh higuâhigu-â
âhigurama?â
utahime hums, âyeah, higurama. nanamiâs law friend. theyâre talking over there.â she raises the phone without really thinking, flipping the screen toward the pier.
the camera wobbles for a second before it steadies, and there you are. not with them. not near the table. youâre off to the side, sitting on one of the benches closer to the water, the distance obvious even through the shitty front camera quality. the rest of the group is loud, clustered together under the dim pier lights, but you drifted off and just stayed there.
youâre leaning in slightly, shoulder angled toward higurama, your body turned to face him more than anything else. close enough to look familiar. close enough to look comfortable.
heâs saying somethingâsomething sukuna canât hearâand for a second, he lifts his phone between you, showing you something on the screen. but from this angle, it just looks like youâre sitting back, smiling at him, soft and distracted, your voice faint in the background as it carries over the speaker. whatever youâre saying, itâs looser and easy. too easy.
something in sukunaâs stomach twists, sharp and unpleasant. he pushes it down immediately.
âwhyâre they talking away from the rest of you?â he asks, voice flat, edged with something colder than it needs to be. he pulls out a drink from the fridge.
utahime squints at the screen, words a little slurred. âshe was kinda meanânot reallyâbut like, sheâs drinkingâwhich isâwe should stopâbut she went to apologize and now theyâre talking.â she shrugs, already half over it.
gojo suddenly leans into frame, grinning like he just found something unbelievably entertaining. âoh yeahâyou see âem?â he laughs, keeping the phone angled right on you and higurama.
sukuna clicks his tongue, irritation slipping through. âwhyâre you fucking laughing?â
âbecause youâre pissed,â gojo shoots back instantly, grin widening.
sukuna scowls, jaw tightening. âiâm not fucking pissed, you fucking idiot.â
but his eyes donât leave the screen. donât leave you. and they donât miss the way you tilt your pretty head when you listen. the way you shift a little closer without thinking. the way your attention is fully on someone else. his grip tightens slightly around his phone, looking away.
are you gonna text him before or after you fuck this guy, he thinks. his tongue drags slow against his teeth, jaw tightening as he leans back slightly, eyes glancing up at his brother and his friends.
âohâtheyâre coming back!â gojo calls suddenly, voice bright with amusement.
and sure enough, youâre walking back toward the group with higurama right beside you, like nothing ever happened. like you didnât just disappear with him for however long. youâre still talking, hands moving as you explain something, a little too animated, a little too loose from the alcohol. your head tips toward him when he responds, eyes flicking up to his face againâand againâand again.
higurama says something that makes you laugh, and itâs soft, quieter than the way you usually laugh with them. your shoulder brushes his arm for a second as you walk, not even noticing it
sukunaâs expression doesnât change. but something inside his stomach hardens. his gaze tracks you the entire way back, slow, deliberate. the way you close the distance. the way you donât rush it. the way you lookâŠcomfortable. his grip shifts on the phone, thumb pressing harder than necessary against the edge. heâs leaning against the counter, jaw tight when your hand fixes the strap of your top, laughing when shoko makes a comment he barely hears.
âsee?â gojo hums, smug, leaning closer to the camera. âyou got competition now.â
sukuna exhales through his nose, unimpressed. âshut the fuck up.â
gojo cackles loudly, and you glance over. âwhoâre you guys talking too?â you slide beside nanami, leaning over just for gojo to turn the screen towards you.
your stomach flips so fast it almost hurts. your whole body heats in an instant. ryo. it slips out before you even think about it. and you donât realize how soft it sounds until you say it again, a little lighter this time, a small smile pulling at your lips like itâs second nature. your tone is gentler than usual, looserâtoo looseâand itâs obvious. youâre drunk. so drunk. because why are you saying his name like that?
why does it feel so easy?
on the other end, sukuna stills for half a second. it doesnât stop the way something warm settles low in his stomach. behind you, higuramaâs attention shifts at the name. his gaze drifts over your shoulder, landing on the screen. the familiar face tattoos clicks almost immediately.
âŠoh. so thatâs who you were calling. sukunaâŠbutâŠryo? his brows knit faintly, something quiet and curious settling in his chest. are you guys dating?
he doesnât ask it out loud. just watches. you donât notice any of it, too busy leaning closer into frame, lips parting as you talk. âyouâre missing out,â you say, voice bright despite the slight slur. âwe were playing darts earlier and you shouldâve been here because freaking gojo was being an ass about the rules againââ you laugh, the memory still obnoxiously funny.
and sukuna hates himself a little. hates the way his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. the way he nods once, slow. the way his neck cracks as he tilts his head back, trying to ease the tension sitting there.
from the living room behind him, one of his brother yells about something, loud and distant, but it barely registers because youâre still on his screen. youâre not dating. you guys have both been very clear about the terms and conditions. so why not indulge? youâre free. heâs free. there are conditions for a reasonâ
âiâll send you the video when i get home,â you add lightly, like itâs nothing. âmy phone died.â
and just like that, everything in his head goes quiet. because now heâs going to be waiting for it. waiting for you to text him. and fuck if heâll ever admit that shit.
ââŠyeah,â he hums, softer than before, almost absent, like it just slipped out. his eyes donât leave the screen or more specifically, you.
your face fills it completely now. your lips, the ones he knows too well, the taste of them when you roll your tongue over his. your cheeks, the ones that get damp the second he fucks you a little harder. your eyesâ those same eyes. the ones that look up at him like you want something. like you expect something. like heâs the only one that can give it to you.
his grip tightens just slightly around the phone. and for a second he forgets anyone else is even there. and even if gojo took the phone away and sukuna basically hung up afterwards. he ignored whatever tug he felt in his chest. and he seriously couldnât care to answer gojoâs calls again.
âare you gonna play with us now?â yuuji calls as sukuna makes his way back.
âyeah,â sukuna simply confirms, dropping back onto the couch.
he doesnât catch the way yuujiâs entire face lights up, and how quick the kid straightens, already reaching for the controllerâbecause the front door suddenly slams open so hard it rattles the walls.
âwhat the fucââ sukuna snaps, already halfway up again.
two high schoolers freeze in the doorway. choso is slumped between them. one of them, ino, goes rigid the second his eyes land on sukuna. the other, mechamaru, panics instantly, hands fumbling where theyâre hooked under chosoâs arms.
âwhat the hell is his brother doing here?!â mechamaru screeches, trying to pivot like he can somehow leave with choso still half-dragged between them.
âshitâI forgot he came this morning!â ino swears.
âyou forgotâ?â mechamaru freaks.
theyâre somehow out the door again, then they both stall on the front steps. because the air shifts, drops, and something heavier settles in the space between them. sukuna is standing at the door, blocking the light from reaching them, creating a shadow over the high schoolers.
âwhat the fuck happened to him?â sukuna barks. his tone is sharp, cutting right through them. they turn back slowly.
sukuna is down the two steps in seconds. his hand comes up, gripping chosoâs jaw, forcing his head up. choso barely resists, head lolling slightly, eyes glassy and unfocused. his cheeks are flushed, lips parted, breath unevenâ
and it hits him. the smell. sukunaâs expression twists instantly, something dark snapping into place behind his eyes.
âis he drunk?â he asks. but itâs not really a question. his grip tightens. âanswer me.â
mechamaru confesses instantly. âwe got asked to play at a party, and we went because itâll also be great practice, before the competition, but afterââ he glances at ino, now hesitant. âwe were dragged to do drinks.â
âby who?â sukuna is already grabbing his brother, easily tossing his arm over his shoulder and lifting the teen up. choso mutters something incoherent.
âthese guys from the baseball team.â
sukunaâs face twists, âbaseball?â the disgust in his tone was evident.
ino fixes his beanie, nodding. âyeah, guess it was their party, but um Iâm pretty sure theyâre friends with these guys thatâare also gonna play at the concert, and it looks like they were picking at us.â
âdoesnât explain why choâs the only one that canât fucking walk,â sukuna barks. the two teens confusing him even more.
the two nod frantically. âyeah, choso got pissed when he realized we just played our new songs to a bunch of ops, so he wanted to prove them wrong.â
sukuna deadpans. âand you two let âhim?â
ino quickly replies, fidgeting with his hair that peaks from his beanie. âno, we told him not too. but by the time he agreed, those baseball dicks told us to shut the fuck up, and they wouldnât let us get to him until choso ended up like this.â
sukuna licks his teeth, jaw tight as he glances at choso.
âwe got him out the second they let go of us,â mechamaru adds.
sukuna silently notes the concern written on the faces of his little brotherâs friends.
âdo you know how much he drank?â
the two glance at one another, shifting their weight, before shaking their heads in defeat.
sukuna straightens up. chosoâs head lulls to his shoulder.
âwoah, what happened to cho?â
a small voice booms from behind them. yuuji stands at the door, eyes wide and brows pulled together. megumi and nobara glance from their seats on the floor.
âheâs not feeling well,â sukuna responds. he dismisses the two high schoolers, and turns back to the house.
choso groans as heâs hoisted up the two steps. the front door slams behind them.
âis he drunk?â yuuji blurts, already stepping in the way, trying to peer up at chosoâs face.
âyuuuuji,â choso slurs, head lolling toward him, cheeks flushed an ugly shade of pink.
âyuuji, grab some water for him,â sukuna cuts in, already moving, arm hooked tight around choso as he drags him further into the house. he doesnât make it past the hallway whenâ
âwaitââ choso chokes, eyes widening, hand coming up weakly, âiâm gonna pukeââ
âshitââ
sukuna doesnât hesitate. he yanks him sideways, practically hauling him into the bathroom and shoving him down in front of the toilet just in time. choso barely gets his hands on the seat before heâs throwing up. loud. violent. his whole body jerks with it, his shoulders heaving as he gags, groaning in between, completely gone.
sukuna stands over him for a second, jaw tight, watching him?, then he crouches down, hand bracing his shoulder so he doesnât tip forward.
âfuckinâ idiot,â he mutters under his breath, but it lacks bite.
choso retches again, weaker this time, whimpering slightly when it finally slows.
and sukuna frownsâŠall he can see is himself. his chest tightens. a small, ugly part of him twists with something that feels too close to guilt. why the fuck is he like this? why is choso trying to prove anything at all at some shitty high school party?
her.
the image hits him out of nowhere. sharp. intrusive. his step-motherâs face, her voice, the way she worms her way into everything. the way she still haunts him, and now choso⊠his jaw clenches so hard it aches. he wants to rip the thought out of his own head.
âi donâtâŠâ choso mumbles weakly, voice slurring into itself. his head drops against his arm, propped on the toilet seat. âi donât wanâ you-you being madâŠâ
sukuna stills.
chosoâs brows knit together, drunk mind scrambling, trying to hold onto something thatâs floating. âi donât⊠mom is⊠sheâs my mom⊠i justââ his voice cracks.
chosoâs a sad drunk.
his eyes gloss over, unfocused, bottom lip trembling slightly as he breathes unevenly. âi wanna talk to my momâŠâ
something in sukuna snaps tight in his chest. his jaw sets hard. he doesnât say anything. he canât when chosoâs vulnerable like this. but his grip tightens just slightly on chosoâs shoulder.
no.
that woman is not getting anywhere near him. near any of them. doesnât matter how much choso cries. doesnât matter how much he fucking asks or begs. the answer will always be no. sheâs a fucking cancer.
âhereâs some water,â yuuji pipes up, appearing in the doorway with a glass, then immediately recoils. âewww.â
sukuna exhales through his nose, grabbing the glass without looking at him. âyeah, weâre not telling gramps.â
yuuji straightens a little, arms crossing like heâs being let in on something serious. âour secret?â
âour secret,â sukuna repeats absently, already nudging chosoâs shoulder. âcâmon. sit up.â
he tilts the glass toward him. âdrink.â
âmânotâŠâ choso mumbles, but he obeys anyway, taking a few messy gulps before coughing, water dribbling down his chin.
âyuuji, go grab me the ibuprofen,â sukuna adds without looking up.
âgot it,â yuuji nods, already darting off.
choso slumps back against the tub once heâs done, head tipping back, eyes barely open. sukuna reaches over, flushing the toilet and shutting the lid. choso keeps mumblingâŠ
âiâm not⊠hicâmânot an idiotâŠâ
yuuji reappears in the doorway, curious now, watching like itâs a show. sukuna glances up at him briefly, grabbing the bottle, before looking back at choso.
âi know how she waasâŠâ choso continues, voice quieter now, rough around the edges. âwhy you left me and yuujiââ
sukunaâs jaw locks, hard. his expression doesnât change, not when his brothers are right there. but the tension in his shoulders spikes, something heavy settling behind his eyes and over his chest, as he stares at choso.
and for a second he doesnât know what the fuck to say.
chosoâs eyes well up, slumping even more as his knee comes up. his face presses into his arm, hair falling over his face in a tangled mess. âbut sheâŠâ
yuuji steps closer, small brows knitting together as he leans toward sukuna. âwhoâs she?â he whispers.
sukuna exhales through his nose. âno clue.â he straightens, already reaching down to haul choso back up. âletâs get him to bed.â
itâs messy. choso barely helps, weight sagging into sukuna as he drapes an arm over his shoulders. sukuna adjusts his grip, one hand firm at his side, the other keeping him upright as they shuffle down the hallway. sukuna basically lifting him the entire way.
âmove,â sukuna mutters.
yuuji is already ahead of them, darting into chosoâs room. he kicks a pile of clothes out of the way, yanking the blanket back.
sukuna lowers choso onto the bed with a quiet grunt, guiding him down instead of dropping him. choso immediately curls in on himself, still mumbling, words slurring into nothing.
âturn,â sukuna orders, nudging his shoulder until choso rolls onto his side. he adjusts him without much patience, but careful enough, one arm tucked, head angled. sukuna adjusts one of the throw pillows behind chosoâs back. he groans, but settles. sukuna pulls the blanket over him, tugging it up to his shoulder.
for a second, he just stands there. watching.
yuuji edges closer, peering up at sukunaâs face, then back at choso. âitâs not good that he was drinking, right?â
sukuna stifles a yawn, dragging a hand down his face, but his mind is still stuck, looping on chosoâs words.
âno,â he mutters. âitâs not good.â
yuuji shifts, frowning. âthen why arenât you mad?â
sukuna doesnât answer right away. his eyes stay on choso, something tight pulling low in his chest before he finally says, quieter, âiâm upset.â
yuujiâs expression softens almost instantly. he leans into sukunaâs side without thinking, small and warm. sukunaâs hand comes up automatically, rough palm settling on his head before ruffling his hair.
âiâm gonna stay in âere with him,â sukuna says, nudging him gently toward the door. âso go play.â
yuuji stumbles a step from the push, but stops at the doorway, hesitating. his lips press together, jaw tightening just a little. âarenât you gonna play? you said you would.â
sukuna drops into the old lounge chair in the corner with a low grunt, legs spreading out, shoulders heavy as he sinks back into it. he barely spares him a glance. âi gotta watch choso.â
âbut heâs sleeping,â yuuji argues quietly.
sukunaâs gaze flicks back to choso. âheâs drunk as shit. you want him choking on his vomit?â
yuujiâs face scrunches. âno.â his voice is small.
âweâll play tomorrow,â sukuna says, already closing his eyes, tone coming off more dismissive than he intended or even thought about.
yuuji lingers for a second longer, then disappears down the hall. the room goes quiet. just chosoâs uneven breathing. the faint hum of the house. sukuna sinks deeper into the chair, head tipping back, eyes shut. his body aches in that dull, heavy, almost like heâs expecting something thatâs inevitably comingâŠ
his step-mother. his eyes shut, fuck everything is tangling together he must have drifted at some point, barely asleep, barely conscious, because the sudden buzz of his phone cuts through it like a blade. punishing him for the delusion that he had a little bit more time.
he fishes his phone out of his pocket, blinking at the screen.
toji.
âââ
you quickly grab the handle of your apartment building before you trip again. a light laugh escapes as a hand holds your waist steady.
âyou sure youâre okay?â shoko asks, other hand coming up to her face. her head is spinning.
you mutter out something, fishing for your keys. shoko sways, waiting patiently, along with the halted uber with the rest of the gang inside, well except for higurama who left once you all got in the uber, and utahime and yunoâŠ
âokayokay Iâm inside, byebye!â
youâre stumbling into your apartment, drunk as hell, the door barely shutting behind you before youâre already kicking your shoes off across the floor. your balance wobbles, fingers clumsy as they fumble with the zipper of your jeans, a quiet huff leaving you when it snags for a second before finally giving.
you peel them off with far less grace than youâd like, stepping out of them and leaving them abandoned somewhere behind you. your top follows, dragging it over your head, then your braâgone just as quickly, tossed without care. the apartment is warm, itâs thick with that early summer heat, and your skin practically sighs in relief as youâre left in nothing but your panties.
you donât even bother covering yourself. your body is loose, uncoordinated. your chest rises and falls a little deeper than usual, and with every step, thereâs that soft, natural movement. your bare skin warm, your body relaxed in a way it only gets when youâre like this. the moment you reach your bed, you collapse onto it.
your phone slips from your hand, bouncing once against the sheets as you roll onto your side, face pressing into the pillow. your lashes flutter lazily as the screen lights up beside you. notifications stacking from family group chats, names you donât have the energy to read right now.
but one name floats to the front of your mind. one. and before you can even think it through, your fingers are already moving.
the phone rings. once. twice. thenâ
âhello?â
his voice is rough. low, edged with sleep, and something else you canât quite place in your state.
you shift slightly, your phone resting near your cheek, heat spreading there as you breathe out, âryoâŠâ
thereâs a pause. then a quiet hum on his end, fabric shifting as he moves. âyou just got home?â
you answer with a soft, tired hum, eyes slipping half-shut. your lips part slightly as you exhale, tongue darting out to wet them without thinking. your head feels lighter now, the alcohol settling into something softer, slower, but it leaves your voice like honey, sweet, drawn out.
on the other end, sukunaâs jaw tightens.
âare you upset?â you ask, absent, like the thought just wandered into your head and out your mouth.
âwhy would i be upset?â
you make a small sound, barely there. âdunno⊠you just sound⊠like it,â you murmur, sighing into your pillow.
thereâs a brief silence.
âyou should get some sleep,â sukuna says, more abrupt now. a little colder, but it barely registers through the haze.
âI wanâed to uhâŠâ you yawn, words slurring together. âmâ gonna go home.â
his tone shifts instantly. âwhere the fuck are you now?â
you hum, too slow, too tired to match his urgency. âmmm⊠i mean⊠to my parents⊠next week,â you mumble. âiâm gonna do the hospital thing.â
he hesitates. you canât see it, but he does, because last time, you shut that conversation down fast. hell, he doesnât even know why youâre telling him this, so now he just⊠waits.
on your end, your breathing softens. a quiet, shaky exhale leaves you as your fingers curl slightly into the sheets. âiâŠâ you swallow, eyes stinging faintly. âthatâs okay, right?â
his breath catches, just barely. what is it with drunk people tonightâŠ
ââŠyeah,â he says finally, quieter. not fully understanding the entire context, but answering anyway.
you donât question the way you relax just a little.
âoâŠkay,â you murmur, softer now. then⊠âi wish⊠you were here.â
thereâs a beat. and then, his lip quirks faintly, voice dipping. âso you can fuck yourself on me?â
you let out a light, airy laugh, barely there, bringing the phone closer, like his voice could comfort you the way his body does. âyeahâŠâ
a pause. then softer, unguarded⊠âyou always make me feel good, ryo.â
and he stills. completely.
shit.. he exhales, slow. his hand drags up his face as his head tips back against the chair. the room is quiet only broken by the faint shift of choso on the bed and the distant hum of the house settling at night. the silence only makes the way his chest is beating just a little louder in his ears.
âryo,â you breathe again, even softer this time. he hums, voice even, steady. on the other end, your lashes grow too heavy to fight. your lips part slightly as your voice slips out, barely there, âgânight.â
thereâs no response. not right away. because by the time he opens his mouth, youâre already gone your breathing evens out, soft and slow through the phone, quiet enough that he almost misses it at first. but then it settles into a rhythm, steady, warm, unmistakable. you fell asleep. still on the call.
sukuna doesnât hang up. he just⊠listens. eyes still closed, head tipped back, phone pressed loosely to his ear as your breathing fills the silence on his end. itâs strange, how something so small manages to take up so much space in his head.
his mind drifts. back to the last time he saw you. saturday afternoon. less than 48 hours ago. the way heâd rushed out of your apartment without looking back, already halfway gone before the door even shut behind him. this is the first time youâve called him like this and he didnât show up. didnât end with him pushing you into a mattress, didnât end with his hands on you, your voice in his ear for a completely different reason.
if he was still on campus, he wouldâve came. no question. but heâs not there. and somehowâŠthat makes this feel different. a kind of different he doesnât sit with for too long. doesnât want to sit with. so he pushes it down, like he does everything else and focuses instead on the sound of you breathingâsoft, steadyâand he finds himself annoyed for a reason he doesnât fully unpack.
he should be hearing it closer. your breathing against his ear, against his chest. your body warm, tucked into him the way it always ends up.
you said you wish he was there because he makes you feel good. his jaw tightens slightly. you make him feel good too. too fucking good. and with everything else tangled in his head, his family, choso, her, his call before this, the futureâyouâre the only thing thatâs pretty simple. you donât shift. itâs the routine. the sex. you. and itâs something he can actually count on.
his grip tightens faintly around his phone, thumb pressing against the edge of it as he exhales again, slower this time. summer stretches out in front of him. and in the quiet of that room, with your breathing in his ear and everything else sitting heavy in his chest, all he can think is:
summer is going to be hell.
â THREE WEEKS LATER â
the field sits just off the small townâs coast. the air tastes like salt and the wind carries the distant crash of waves. itâs late afternoon, sun still high, heat clinging to everything and sukuna is drenched.
sweat slicks down his chest, dragging along the hard lines of muscle, catching in the dips of his collarbones before trailing lower. his back is worse, broad, defined, and every movement is pulling the ink stretched across his skin. the tattoos curl over his shoulders, down his back, around his biceps. and his hair is damp, sticking slightly to his forehead, breath heavier from drills, but controlled.
people notice. a couple women slow their walk along the path by the beach, voices dropping as their eyes linger. some just outright staring.
sukuna jogs up to the benches, grabbing the water bottle toji tosses his way without breaking stride. the plastic cracks slightly under his grip before he twists it open, taking a long drink, water spilling down his throat, over his chin, dripping onto his chest.
âanything?â he asks, voice rougher now.
toji doesnât answer right away, just hands him the folder.
sukuna takes it, flipping it open with one hand. âwhatâs this?â
beside him, shiu kong flicks ash from the cigarette hanging off his lip, leaning forward slightly as he talks. âbackground check on her partner came back clean. his moneyâs real, and his business checks out.â
sukunaâs eyes scan the pages. bank statements. employment records. a couple photos clipped in.
âthose three years she disappeared?â shiu continues, âshe spent em in china for about a year. then the rest in the UK.â
sukuna flips a page. his brows pull together slightly. âso?â he mutters.
toji exhales through his nose, scratching at his chin. âyeah, shiu, i thought youâd come back with somethinâ we can actually use.â
shiu snorts quietly. âyou didnât read all of it,â he shuts toji up. sukuna keeps reading, slower now. thereâs a pause. then shiu tilts his head, cigarette shifting between his lips. âit doesnât look like she went overseas just to hide from those lawsuits.â
sukunaâs eyes flick up briefly. âwhat dâya mean?â
shiu leans back slightly, more relaxed than the tension building in front of him. âafter she got out of jail, she worked at that loan company job for about a year, thatâs where she got tied up with the lawsuit.â
âi know that part,â sukuna cuts in, flipping another page. âthatâs all you fucking gave us a million weeks ago.â
âyeah, well,â shiu shrugs, ignoring the aggression. âone of the clients she was stealing from wasnât just some idiot with bad credit and needed a loan.â
tojiâs brows lift slightly, sitting up and waving sukuna to hand him back the folder,
âthe guy had some connections,â shiu continues. âsmall operations, but enough to make things messy. when the lawsuit started closing in, heâs the one that got her out.â
sukunaâs jaw tightens.
âpaid for her to leave the country,â shiu adds. âchina first. she worked under him there, nothing flashy. looks like she was just working as a personal accountant and was moving around money, setting up accounts under different names. itâs pretty clean to not get caught, but if someone looks closer the numbers are just off.â
toji reads through the last few pages. they were thinner. notes, partial records, but not enough to actually start any shit with her.
âand the UK?â toji asks.
shiu shrugs again. âthatâs where she met her new guy. your step-momâs got a type, men with money and enough ego to overlook the rest.â
toji huffs a quiet laugh at that. sukuna doesnât. heâs still staring at the page in tojiâs hands, arms crossed over his chest.
âshe cut ties with the china contact once she secured her new situation,â shiu adds. âso she got a completely clean slate with this guy. or as clean as she could manage. she started working for him as an accountant, still works for him, but dating now.â
toji glances at him. âitâs something.â
âitâs not enough,â sukuna snaps immediately. his patience has been shot for weeks. watching choso. waiting. thinking.
âwe can push this on her,â toji starts, leaning forward, âand bring up the lawsuit again, tie it with thisââ
âsheâll deny it,â sukuna cuts him off.
âthen weââ
âsheâll deny it,â sukuna repeats, sharper this time, eyes flicking up, irritation clear. âand sheâll try an get choso, and heâs fucking desperate to give her a chance. no. you said weâd make her leave for good, so this is all fucking shit!â
sukuna runs a hand through his damp hair, exhaling hard through his nose, chest rising and falling heavier now.
âi need something more concrete,â he mutters. âsomething she canât fucking, snake her way out of like a fucking cockroach.â
âi can look into that china contact,â shiu says simply. âIâve got some people that can ask around.â
toji glances at sukuna, jaw setting before he nods. âyeah, thatâs good.â
sukuna doesnât respond. his eyes are staring up, jaw tightening. the ocean crashes in the distance. he doesnât make a move once shiu leaves. not until toji is clearing his throat.
âi donât know what youâre expecting.â
sukuna feels something harden inside. eyes deadly sharp as they glare at his long time friend and coach.
âyou think weâre gonna uncover some body with her fingerprints on them?â
sukuna tsks, rolling his eyes, âshut the fuck up.â
âIâm jusâ asking.â
âyouâre being a fucking dick!â sukunaâs voice pierces the air, chest heaving. his heart pounds against his ribs, blood flowing in his ears. âshe started messaging me, and we donât have shit.â
tojiâs gaze takes in the twenty-three year old, a small, but strong, string tugs in his chest as he remembers when he was thirteen. his jaw tightens. âi talked to wasuke, we both agree you should go.â
sukunaâs eyes snap up. harsh. mean. âwhat?â
âaccept the offer, and go train with the team. itâs not the same club that asked you when yâ were in high school, but this is what youâve been workinâ for. Iâll deal with shit here.â
a sudden fury crashes full force into the man. âyou have no clue what the fuck I wantâi want this shit to go away. if ya think Iâm pissed because of the offer, Iâm not. Iâm pissed that I donât have shit on that woman when you fucking told me to trust your dipshit friend!â sukunaâs words bite the air.
âyeah sure,â toji sighs. sukunaâs easily setting him off the more he pushes back.
sukuna snarls, eyes dark, his head tilts, sizing up the thirty-two year old coach. âya have more to say?â
his vein snaps.
tojiâs suddenly standing right in front of him, close enough that the heat from sukunaâs skin hasnât even cooled yet. emerald eyes dark, steady, not backing down. for a second, it looks like it could tip. like sukuna might start something.
his shoulders are tight, chest still rising hard, jaw locked so tight it aches. the vein in his neck ticks, pulse loud in his ears, everything in him might snap in seconds. but toji doesnât move. doesnât flinch.
âyeah,â he says, voice lower now. calmer, but not softer. âi do.â
sukunaâs lip curls slightly, head tilting just enough to show teeth. âthen say it.â
toji exhales through his nose. âyouâre losing control like a fucking kid again.â
heavy silence follows. then sukuna lets out a dry, humorless huff. âwatch your mouth.â
âor what?â toji shoots back immediately. âyou gonna swing at me?â that almost does it. sukunaâs fist flexes at his side, fingers twitching like theyâre deciding whether or not to hit his fucking coach. âyouâre pissed,â toji continues, cutting through before he can react, âand Iâm not blaming you. but youâre acting like you can fix this overnight.â
âi can fix it,â sukuna snaps.
âno,â toji fires back just as fast, âyou canât.â his words hit, itâs how sure he sounds. sukunaâs eyes darken, something sharp flashing behind them. âyou donât have enough yet,â toji goes on, voice steady, and grounded making sukuna seethe. âand you forcing it isnât gonna make it show up faster.â
âso i just sit around for another fucking month?â sukuna bites out. âwait for her to walk in and fuck everything up again!?â
âyou think hovering over choso every second is gonna stop that?â toji counters. âyouâre burning yourself out for nothing.â
sukuna scoffs, stepping forward this time, closing the already small space between them, eyes deadly to anyone other than the very man heâs targeting. âyou donât get to tell me how to handle my family.â
tojiâs jaw tightens. âiâm not. iâm tellinâ you, youâre gonna fuck up your future if you keep this up.â
thereâs that word again. future. sukunaâs expression twists instantly.
âdonât start,â he warns, low.
âyou think this offerâs just gonna sit there and wait for you?â toji presses anyway. âyouâve been busting your ass for this since you screwed up and gotââ
âi said donâtââ
âand by some fucking miracle you managed to get an offer again,â toji cuts him off, sharper now, voice much louder, âand youâre ready to throw it because of her!?â
thatâs it. sukuna shoves him. itâs full force. enough to break the line theyâve been holding. toji stumbles back, just to block a swing from sukuna. his arm hooks with the kid, locking him up as sukuna grunts, not fighting back with the amount of strength he started with.
âdonât,â sukuna says, voice rougher now, chest heaving again in the hold. âdonât fuckinâ act like youâre responsible for me.â
toji grits, muscles flexing. âIâm not tryna act like your guardian angel,â he starts, his words coming out carefulâŠalmost hesitant thinking about the right words to describe his bond with the itadori family. âbut I know what it looks like when you let your past decide everything for you.â his grip tightens around sukunaâs arm, almost hugging him, except for the way sukunaâs arm is forcefully trapped between their bodies, and the other is locked against his back. âi screwed up, not you.â
sukunaâs jaw tightens again, but this time thereâs something else under it. something sharper, old wounds stinging.
âi said iâll deal with it,â toji adds. sukuna struggles momentarily, before toji lets go, letting sukuna fall back on the grass, sun beating harshly above them. sweat slides down sukunaâs chest, fists gripping the dirt.
sukuna doesnât answer. his gaze fixes on the ground between his legs. white lines worn into the grass. the ocean beyond it, endless and loud. this is what heâs been working for. he knows that. butâŠ.his jaw clenches again.
âyou canât be in two places at once,â toji says, standing above him. âso decide where you want to be.â
another long silence stretches between them. wind picks up slightly off the water, cooling the sweat on sukunaâs skin, but it does nothing for the heat sitting under it. finally, he scoffs under his breath and looks away. his hand comes up, running through his damp hair again.
âiâm not done with this,â he mutters, more to himself than toji.
toji shakes his head.
sukuna doesnât look back at him. doesnât give him anything else. but the way his shoulders sit, the way his jaw wonât unclench, itâs clear heâs not letting it go. he just doesnât know which fire to put out first.
the silence breaks with a loud cheer in the distance. it cuts clean through the tension and heat.
âSUMMMMMERRRRRR BREAAAKKKKK!!!!!â
the voice is unmistakable. sukuna exhales through his nose, head tipping slightly to the side as his arm drops just enough for him to see across the field.
yuuji.
already halfway across, sprinting like his life depends on it. megumiâs right behind him, trying his best to keep up, eyes set in on yuujiâs back in determination. somewhere between the halfway line and the benches, both their backpacks go flying off, hitting the grass with dull thuds. yuuji doesnât even look back, and just runs faster.
sukunaâs head drops back again, eyes closing briefly, jaw tightening as he lets the noise wash over him, and pull him out of his own head for a second. and he knows whatâs coming. he doesnât move, but braces.
âRYOOOâ!â
yuuji slams into him full force, arms hooking around his shoulders as he crashes down, laughing loud and bright. sukuna grunts, body shifting slightly from the hit, but his hand comes up automatically, gripping the back of yuujiâs shirt to keep him from face-planting into his chest.
âfuck youâre heavierââ sukuna mutters, voice rough, but thereâs no bite to it.
yuuji laughs, already climbing onto him, half dangling off his shoulders as sukuna finally pushes himself up to stand. âweâre free! FINALLY!!â
megumi finally reaches them, bent slightly at the waist, breathing heavier than heâd like, shooting yuuji an annoyed look. âyou cheated.â
âi didnât!â yuuji fires back immediately, still clinging to sukuna like heâs part of him now
âyou started early,â megumi argues.
âdid not!â
sukuna clicks his tongue, rolling his shoulders once as he stands fully, yuuji still hanging off him like dead weight. âboth of you are fucking annoying.â
toji snorts quietly from the side, reaching out to ruffle megumiâs hair. the kid lets him, even if he rolls his eyes a second later, already distracted again by yuujiâs loud arguing.
âyouâre just mad you lost again,â yuuji adds, grinning. âyou can never beat me in a race.â
âi didnât lose.â
âyou didâ!â
âi said i didnâtââ
âyo yo yo!â the voice cuts in before it can escalate, loud and familiar as two more figures cross the field. gojo strolls up like he owns the place, blue shorts hanging low on his hips, white tee clinging just enough from the heat. beside him, geto moves slower, black tee, baseball cap low over his eyes, hands shoved casually into his short pockets. gojoâs grin widens the second he gets a good look at sukuna.
âdamn,â he lets out, dragging the word. âyou look like shit.â
geto huffs a quiet laugh, eyes flicking over sukunaâs drenched frame. âyouâve been out here all day?â
sukuna doesnât answer right away. he just grabs the hem of his shorts, tugging them slightly where they cling, sweat still dripping down his torso, catching along the lines of muscle, the ink on his skin darker from it, a tan already forming.
âwhat gave it away?â he mutters dryly.
yuuji is still draped over him, completely unbothered, arms locked around his shoulders like heâs not planning on letting go of his older brother anytime soon. âheâs been training like crazy,â he chimes in proudly, like itâs his accomplishment.
gojo leans in slightly, eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses. âyeah, no shit. he looks like he just crawled out of a fight.â
âlost, probably,â geto adds under his breath, glancing at toji whoâs uncharacteristically lost in thought behind megumi.
sukuna scoffs, finally shifting his shoulder just enough to jostle yuuji. yuuji only laughs, tightening his grip like a damn leech. âcan we play a game with you guys?â he asks, already bouncing with energy.
sukuna drags a hand through his damp hair, strands sticking to his forehead and temples, sweat still tracking down the sharp lines of his throat. his chest rises slow, controlled, muscles still tight from drills, veins faintly visible along his forearms, and v-line. âget off my back,â he mutters, voice rough.
yuuji drops immediately.
âI call being on ryoâs team!!â yuuji cheers, sliding in at sukunaâs side. for a second, it cuts through everything, the tension, the heat, the lingering frustration.
sukuna huffs, faint smile ghosting his lips. he ruffles the kidâs hair, rough but familiar. âyeah, yeah.â
gojo claps his hands together, already grinning like an idiot. âwell, me and megââ
âIâm with suguru,â megumi cuts flatly, already stepping toward geto without even looking at gojo.
thereâs a beat. then sukuna snorts. geto does too, low and amused, adjusting his cap as his eyes flick between them.
gojoâs face twists in pure betrayal. âwhat the hell?!â
the ocean breeze rolls through the field, tugging at their loose shirts and damp hair, carrying the sound of distant waves, and the very obvious attention of people lingering along the edges. a few girls pause mid-walk, eyes dragging over the group, not subtle.
sukuna stands there shirtless, skin tan and sun-warmed, slick with sweat. his tattoos stretch across his chest and wrapping down his arms, and around his thick thighs. every movement pulls something sharp and defined beneath his skin. beside him, getoâs build is just as unfair, broad shoulders, dark shirt clinging slightly before he peels it off, exposing toned muscle and smooth skin. his silver chain catches the light, muscles flexing as he reties his long hair. and then thereâs gojo, tall, bright, obnoxiously pretty, who yanks his shirt off with zero shame, tossing it aside like he knows exactly how many eyes just followed the motion, and his muscles were no joke.
âiâm not sitting out,â gojo declares, already walking backward onto the field. âweâre doing three on three. coach, youâre in.â
toji just exhales through his nose, rolling his shoulders like he expected this the second they showed up.
âbe on our team!â yuuji immediately points at gojo, beaming.
gojo lights up like he just got chosen for something life-changing. âfinallyâsomeone that finally sees my value.â
that lasts about two seconds
âyouâre goalie,â yuuji adds brightly. sukuna lets out a sharp laugh, head tipping back for a second. geto laughing louder across from them.
gojo freezes. âwhat the hell?!â
âwell iâm playing,â yuuji says, like itâs obvious, gesturing between himself and sukuna. âand me and ryo are a teamââ
âi play with him all the time!â gojo cuts in, scandalized.
yuuji scrunches his face, brutally honest. âyeah butâŠyou guys hate each other.â
thereâs a pause.
ââŠthatâs notââ gojo starts, then stops, jaw ticking, and veins straining. he groans anyway, dragging himself toward the goal with exaggerated misery, muttering under his breath the whole time. sukuna and geto watch him go, lips twitching.
on the other side, toji doesnât argue when he gets shoved into the same position for megumi and getoâs team. he just cracks his neck once, slow, eyes already tracking the field, mind anywhere but the game.
as the teams settle and the heat clings to their skin, the game starts off light. itâs almost easy. the ball moves quick between them, laughter cutting through the salt-heavy air as yuuji and megumi try to outdo each other, their smaller frames darting across the field with reckless energy. geto plays loose, smooth with it, backing megumi with an ease that makes it look effortless, while sukuna shadows yuuji, letting the kid take the lead, stepping in only when needed. for a moment, it feels normal. just a summer game.
gojo, unfortunately, blocks almost everything. he stretches out in the goal, long muscular limbs moving with lazy precision, talking shit the entire time. âstupid fucking game.â
and every now and then he lets one slipâon purposeâjust enough for megumi to make a few shots, to keep him from scowling too hard. but toji doesnât do the same. every shot yuuji takes, every burst of effort, gets shut down hard. clean catches. sharp deflections. not even a hint of mercy. and slowly, that grin on yuujiâs face starts to strain.
and thatâs when sukuna shifts, a scowl pulls at his mouth. itâs subtle at first. he puts a little more force behind his kicks, losing patience. and then it builds faster, he feels something heavier sitting under his skin. and his focus drifts, between yuuji, the goalpost and everything else. the offer.
fuck!
the weight of this shit summer presses behind his eyes. and toji is just standing there, catching everything like itâs nothing. like sukuna isnât trying hard enough. his jaw tightens as he drives the ball again, and again. harder each time, forcing plays, and, pushing past those friendly match into something rougher, more aggressive. geto notices. gojo definitely notices.
but sukuna doesnât stop until the game ends just as messy and close and yuujiâs team barely scraping the win
the field immediately breaks into noise with yuuji and megumi arguing over fouls, both talking over each other with flushed faces and wild gestures.
âwe already called that as offside,â yuuji shouts, shaking his head.
megumi scoffs, pointing, âyou couldnât even explain the offside rule to me a month ago!â
âdoesnât matter!â
sukunaâs barely listening as he grabs a towel and drags it over his face, and chest. sweat drips down his jaw, his torso and back gleaming under the sun. his free hand shoves a bottle into yuujiâs chest.
âdrink,â he mutters. yuuji obeys without question, still mid-argument as he chugs.
gojo strolls over, dramatic as ever, wiping at his neck with a grimace. âthis sweat is from the sun, not from a workout,â he complains, like he wasnât just throwing himself around ten seconds ago. âfucking waste of an hour,â he adds, slapping his sunglasses on and stretching his arms behind his head.
the frat president is completely oblivious to the mini crowd off the field, until he turns his head to feel a gust from the ocean. thatâs when he catches a couple girls nearby staring. his lip curls on instinct and easily flashes them a grin, and a lazy wave.
geto snorts under his breath beside him, adjusting his cap, equally as drenched. sukuna doesnât care. his eyes are already elsewhere. specifically on the man he was arguing you with earlier.
toji stands near the benches, turned slightly away, phone pressed to his ear. his posture different. sukuna bites down on his jaw, something tightens in his chest. âIâll handle itâ my ass.
his gaze flicks back to yuuji, still arguing, âwhy isnât choso with you?â
yuuji doesnât glance away from megumi, âi dunno, i walked here from school.â
âi told choso to bring ya over, gramps wanted a quiet friday,â sukuna frowns.
âheâs probably practicing. the competition is tomorrow,â yuuji thinks.
that rips gojoâs attention away from the girls, âohh damn! thatâs the battle of the bands thing right?â
yuuji nods, beaming as he recalls how much choso has been talking about it, âcho showed me a couple videos from the other bands that signed up, and theyâre sooooo lame compared to him!â
sukuna listens. chosoâs been practicing almost every night, usually at inoâs place since gramps would get cranky. but before kaori rose from dead over three months ago, choso was updating sukuna around the clock, includingâ
âi guess he found a way to pay the submission fee,â gojo tosses so casually it almost passes,.
sukunaâs brows pinch, head turning slightly. âhow dâya know about the submission fee?â
gojo blinks, like itâs obvious. âchoso told me,â he shrugs, wiping sweat from the back of his neck. âback in april. remember when he ditched school and came to the house? kid was stressinâ about it.â
sukuna stills, ââŠhe told you that?â
âyeah,â gojo hums, a little smug now. âsaid he was tryna handle it himself. didnât wanna ask you âcause youâve got,â he gestures vaguely, âyour whole thing going on. yâknow. life crisis, anger issues, whatever.â
geto snorts under his breath. yuuji is still arguing with megumi, completely oblivious. but sukuna doesnât hear any of it. his jaw tightens, something cold slipping down his spine, because choso never said a word to him. not once. not about money. not about struggling, not about needing help.
and then it clicks.
a month ago the house had been quieter than usual. it was when sukuna stopped by on the weekend before the last week of classes and finals. gramps was out, yuuji was inside with megumi and nobara. sukuna had just come back from talking with toji, when he heard it, music bleeding out from the garage.
he hadnât meant to stop, but he did. he leaned against the frame, arms crossed over his chest, he watched through the cracked door. choso stood in the middle of the cluttered space, guitar slung low, hair tied back messily. ino was adjusting something on an amp while the others tuned, voices overlapping in the garage.
âwe still need the fee by next week,â ino mentions.
âi know,â choso muttered, fingers dragging through his hair. âiâm working on it.â
âyou gonna ask your brother?â
chosoâs head snapped up immediately. âno.â
too fast. too sharp.
âwhy not? he could literallyââ
âi said no.â chosoâs voice cut through the garage, firm, and defensive. âiâll figure it out.â
thereâd been a pause. awkward tension between the boys.
ââŠyou sure?â
choso exhaled, shoulders dropping just a little, but he didnât look back at them. just adjusted his grip on the guitar. âheâs got enough shit going on,â he said, quieter now. âi donât need to add to itâŠIâll have my half by June.â
and that was it. they moved on and started playing again. and sukuna left before they finished the song. competitionâs usually cost around three hundred dollars. if he canât figure it out himself, heâll eventually ask his older brother for help. he always doesâŠ
but now, back on the field, the ocean air feels heavier. his tongue presses hard against the inside of his cheek.
âhe didnât say anything to me,â sukuna mutters, more to himself than anyone else.
gojo tilts his head. âyeahâŠi figured.â
and that makes something in sukunaâs chest twist, sharp and ugly. because now the timeline lines up too cleanly. kaori showing up. choso being curious about her. the fee. choso needing money. choso asking him to talk to her. and thenâ that bank transfer.
his gaze drops, jaw locking as the pieces start to settle into place in a way he really, really doesnât like.
did he meet with kaori?
âââ
the house is quiet when sukuna gets back. itâs lateâpast midnightâand the only light on is the dull flicker from the tv in the living room. the front door clicks shut behind him, the smell of alcohol and citrus still clinging faintly to his clothes from his summer job at the bar. his shoulders ache, muscles heavy from the day, but his mind is louder than anything else.
the news drones on. wasuke sits in his usual spot, hunched slightly forward, a blanket thrown over his legs despite the summer heat. he doesnât look over when sukuna walks in. he pauses for a second, then drops onto the couch beside his gramps with a low exhale, elbows resting on his knees, mind anything but calm. the only thing he could think about during his late shift was choso asking kaori for money.
ââŠhow do you think chosoâs doing?â his deep voice breaks the silence.
wasuke grunts, unimpressed. âyouâre the one hovering over him like a leech.â
sukunaâs brows pull together, irritation flickering. âiâm notââ
âyou are,â wasuke cuts him off, finally glancing at him. his eyes are sharp, even through the fatigue. âkid canât breathe without you watching him while he shits.â
sukuna scoffs quietly, looking away. his jaw tightens, tongue pressing against his cheek. âheâs ignoring me still.â
âso let him.â the response is immediate, and it makes something in sukunaâs chest twist. he leans back into the couch, arms crossing loosely, gaze drifting to the tv but not really seeing it. the silence stretches for a beat, filled only by the low murmur of the broadcast.
ââŠhe didnât tell me about the money,â sukuna says finally, voice low and rougher now. âfor the competition tomorrow.â wasuke doesnât react right away. just shifts slightly in his seat. âhe found a way to get it,â sukuna adds, eyes narrowing faintly. âon his own.â
another beat.
ââŠand youâre mad about that.â
sukuna exhales sharply through his nose. âi donât like not knowing where the fuck it came from.â
wasuke hums. âso ask him.â
âheâll lie, he already lied.â
âthen thatâs his problem.â
sukunaâs head snaps slightly, irritation spiking. âit becomes my problem if heâs getting mixed up withââ he cuts himself off. jaw tensing.
ââŠwith her?â his gramps asks, voice colder.
the word hangs there without being said. kaori. sukuna doesnât answer. but he doesnât need to, his silence does it for him.
wasuke exhales slowly, leaning back into the couch, eyes drifting back to the tv. âi told you i want nothing to do with that woman,â he mutters.
âi know.â
âthen stop bringing her into this house without her even beinâ here.â
sukunaâs jaw clenches, fingers tapping once against his arm before going still. âiâm not bringing her anywhere. sheâs the one tryna get to choso and yuu.â
âand youâre letting her.â
sukuna blood spikes, âwhat?! how am I letting her! you want me to pull the same shit you did for me and do nothing?!â
wasukeâs expression hardensâŠ
kaoriâs voice could slice through walls, through skin. and his father would just stand thereâŠpatientâŠuseless. and she tore into everything. that house was a fucking hellhole.
but wasuke didnât ask questions, or comment. he didnât bat an eye when sukuna stayed the extra night when visiting, or when he eventually brought more bags and stayed permanently.
ââŠif itâs still unclear to you, I donât want her fucking everything up again,â sukuna mutters, quieter now. the tv flickers. some anchor talking about something sukuna could care less about.
âyou left when you were around his age,â wasuke continues, voice gruffer now, but steadier. âyou made your choice. it was a good one.â a pause. âbut those boys didnât.â
sukunaâs eyes lower.
âyou kept choso over longer when theyâd visit on the weekends,â wasuke says. âyuuji doesnât even remember half of it.â he shifts, blanket rustling. âyou donât get to make their choices for them now just because you think you know better.â
sukunaâs chest tightens, âiâm notââ
âyou are,â wasuke interrupts again, harsher this time. âyouâre scaredââ
that makes sukunaâs head snap up. his eyes flash, in defensive, anger raging. âiâm not scared of her-â
ânot of her,â wasuke says simply. âof what happens if youâre wrong.â
the room goes still. completely stillâŠ.
what if choso did go to her? what if he wanted to? what if he likes her? sukunaâs jaw locks, a cold anger bubbling up inside, old wounds opening as he recalls howâ
ââŠsheâs not good for them,â sukuna says, voice low and certain.
wasuke doesnât argue that, he just sighs, long and tired, rubbing a hand over his aged face. âyeah,â he says. âbut locking âem up isnât gonna make it go away either.â sukuna looks away again, jaw tight. âcouldnât teach you shit because whenever Iâd tell ya to do something, youâd do the opposite.â
he doesnât respondâŠwhy are teenagers so difficult?
âand let me know if youâre gonna go to that training thing overseas.â
sukunaâs head snaps. âhow do ya know about that?â
wasuke doesnât bat an eye. âchoso saw it in yuujiâs room and asked me about it.â
sukunaâs jaw tenses, sinking further into the couch, muscles tightening and mind pounding. his gramps continues watching, eyes ahead as his short tempered grandson quietly sits beside him.
sukunaâs room is dark when he finally pushes the door open. empty and quiet since yuujiâs at megumiâs. sukuna drags a hand down his face, kicking the door shut behind him before peeling off his shirt, tossing it somewhere on the floor. his jeans follow, shoved down and discarded without care until heâs left in just his boxers. the fan hums lazily in the corner, warm summer air clinging to his skin, still faintly sticky from his shift.
he drops onto his bed with a low exhale, one arm thrown over his eyes for a second, then his phoneâs in his hand. mindless, numb doom scrolling. his thumb flicks up, up, up tapping on the string of insta stories.
gojo with multiple stories from today. yuuji mid-sprint across the field, megumi scowling in the background, another of gojo grinning like an idiot with geto, toji somewhere behind them looking half-interested at best. thereâs one of sukuna tooâshirtless, sweaty, mid-playâclearly taken without him noticing.
he clicks his tongue.
next. geto reposted the same ones gojo had tagged him in. a few others of the soccer ball, and one of sukuna yelling and pointing at gojo.
he scowls. nextâ his thumb pauses mid-scroll. he taps before he can think about it. itâs a repost from shokoâs story. youâre sprawled out on a gurney, knocked out cold in your scrubs, one arm hanging off the side like you just gave up mid-shift.
his lip quirks faintly. then another photo, you and shoko again, except now youâre slumped over the counter in a bar, still dressed in scrubs, cheek pressed to your arm resting on the surface, and completely knocked out again.
âthe fuckâŠâ sukuna huffs under his breath. his thumb lingers on the photo, then he taps your profile. his eyes flick over your dashboard, clicking the most recent photo. heâd already seen it, you havenât posted since winter break, but his eyes still linger on the photo. on your face. your lips. he scrolls through your dash again, tapping on your highlights in hopes of finding a photo thatâll get him goingâŠ
his room is quiet, no one present to see how he quietly stalks your page, hand resting just above hisâ
BUZZ
his phone slipsâsmacking him straight in the face.
âfuckâ!â he groans, hand flying up to his face as he answers, irritation already bleeding into his tone.
âhello?â your voice comes through, soft, and a little unsure.
âwhat,â he huffs, rubbing his face.
thereâs a shift on your end. fabric, maybe, moving. âare you busy right now?â
âno, itâs fucking one am,â he snaps automatically, voice rough with exhaustion.
âright,â you murmur, a small pause. âsounds like I got you at a wrong time though?â
âyou didnât,â he says, a little quieter.
your lips purseâŠthen, âhowâs your summer?â
sukunaâs brow quirks, shifting on his bed, one arm tucking behind his head as he stares at the ceiling. âyou called to ask how I am?â
âwell we havenât talked in almost a month-ish,â you say, casual, because it is, neither of you batting an eye about it. but he can picture that little shrug you do. âso likeâŠyeah. how are you?â
something in his chest shifts as he exhales through his nose, giving in anyway. âfine.â
âyeah?â thereâs a small smile in your voice now. he hums. âI saw satoruâs story. you guys looked like you were having fun.â
âyeah,â sukuna mutters. âmy brotherâs are off for break now.â
âooo, fun,â you say softly, the word stretching a little.
the conversation flows casually, too comfortable for either of you to notice. âyou back home doing the hospital thing then.â
you hum, then with a slight pause, âyeah.â
he shifts again, phone pressed closer to his ear without realizing. âlooks like youâre sleeping the whole time,â he teases lightly, voice low.
thereâs a small scoff on your end, breathy. âshut up. those were likeâvery strategic naps.â
âon a fucking gurney?â he snorts.
âlisten,â you start, a little defensive now, a little more awake. âthose shifts suck, and if i donât sleep when i can, iâll actually kill myself.â
âdramatic.â
âIâm never dramatic,â you shoot back, then quieter, âIâm literally exhausted all the time.â
thereâs a beat. sukunaâs gaze drifts to the ceiling again, something softer settling in his chest without permission. ââŠsounds like it,â he mutters.
thereâs another pause, and it doesnât feel awkward, itâs familiar, like no time has passed at all and yet it has. his fingers tap idly against his stomach, mind quieter than itâs been all night.
ââŠyou hate it there?â he asks after a second, tone more neutral now, less bite.
your exhale comes slower this time, heavier. âyeah,â you mutter honestly, unaware of the way sukunaâs jaw shifts slightly. then thereâs a slight shifting on your end again. âfour more weeks of this,â you add.
sukuna doesnât realize how much he actually wants to hear your talk, hear your voice, something calm settling in his chest as he hums, hoping youâll continue talking, and luckily you do.
âthe best part is shoko being here,â you talk mindlessly, voice soft, clear that youâre trying not to make a lot of noise.
âand the worst part?â sukuna pokes, earning a light snort from you.
âmy dad hovering over my shoulder and interrogating me,â you sigh, âcan you talk to me?â
his brow quirks, âwe are talking, you called me.â
you frown, rolling your eyes, âyeah to have like a conversation about something thatâs not this dumb program.â
âand Iâm a great conversationalist,â sukunaâs tone is laced with sarcasm.
âthe best,â you add on, smile lifting your lips when you hear him snort. he exhales, his breath moving through the speaker and right into your ear, reminding you when it was really pressed close to you, warm and gentle.
âiâve been working at a bar,â sukuna starts, mind slowly piecing together what he should talk about.
âfor real?â
âyeah, is that shocking,â he throws, voice steady, barely reacting.
âno, i can picture it,â you coolly reply.
âsmartass.â sukuna exhales, then continues. âsince weâre getting deeper into summer people are moving into their beach houses.â
âOo fancy.â
and maybe it was the slight comments that allowed sukuna to continue rambling about some annoying customers, or it could be your little questions that eased the knots in his chest. but sukuna felt natural speaking, telling you about moments in the last three weeks. and even touching on a subject very sore to himâŠ
âoh wow thatâs great. Iâve havenât gone to a battle of the bands competition since I was high school,â you say, peaking sukunaâs interest in seconds.
âyou were part of a band?â
you shake your head, âno lol,â you laugh, âmy boyfriend was.â
sukuna goes quiet for half a second? not long enough for you to clock it, but long enough for something sharp to flicker under his skin.
âboyfriend,â he repeats, tone flat, he doesnât notice.
you hum lightly, shifting on your bed. âyeah, from high school.â
âhm.â thereâs a pause again. not awkward, justâŠthicker now. he doesnât ask why you broke up. doesnât ask anything that obvious. he doesnât care, but still⊠âyou lose your virginity to him?â he asks, casual.
you blink at your ceiling, lips pressing together. âas if,â you pause, âi donât think i actually liked him like that to let him go all the way.â
sukunaâs brow twitches faintly, âwhat, so he was just there?â he scoffs.
you let out a small laugh. âkinda. he was cool when he was part of the band, but i think he liked me more than i liked himâŠwhich made me feel kinda bad.â
âfigures.â
you roll your eyes, even though he canât see it. âwhatever.â but youâre smiling.
thereâs another pause, shorter this time, then he tilts his head slightly against his pillow, voice dipping just a bit. âso whatâd you let him do?â
âkissing, a little touching over the clothesâŠi dunno,â you slowly begin to recall the memories from high school. âhe wasâŠcringey.â you hesitate, then add, âhe was always talking, but didnât do much of anything else.â
a quiet huff of amusement leaves him, his lips twitch up. âtalking,â he echoes.
âyeah,â you sigh. âlikeâtexting. sexting. all that.â
âand you didnât like it?â
you shake your head instinctively, âit was soâŠâ you cringe just thinking back about it. âcringey and boring.â
thereâs a small shift on his end, sheets rustling as he sits up a little more against his headboard, phone tucked closer to his ear. âboring?â he repeats, slower now, voice dropping.
âyeah,â you mumble. âit just feltâŠfake. like i was supposed to say certain things, or react a certain way because he was getting offâŠjust gave me the biggest ick.â you pause, then add quieter, âand it never did anything for me.â
thereâs a slight pause as sukuna goes quiet again, thenâ
ââŠso what does?â his voice is rougher now, deeper, slipping into something more familiar.
you blink, heat creeping up your neck at the shift in tone. ââŠwhat?â
âyou said itâs boring,â he continues, slow and deliberate. âso what isnât?â
your breath hitches, just a little, and he hears it. of course he does. itâs the one thing he knows about you. you wet your lips, suddenly very aware of how youâre laying, how your voice sounds, how he sounds.
ââŠi donât know,â you deflect weakly.
âthatâs not an answer.â
âit is when iâm half asleep,â you mumble, heat settling in your stomach. the house is quiet. your room even more.
he huffs quietly, a faint edge of a smirk, ââŠso if i started talking,â he says, almost offhand, like itâs nothing, âyouâd just get bored and hang up?â
your stomach flips, because you know what heâs doing, and he knows you know.
ââŠno,â you say, softer now. you hesitate then, quieter, honest without meaning to be, because why else did you call himâŠyour mind had drifted to him, and you clicked his number without thinking twice⊠âkeep talking to me.â
thatâs all it takes. thereâs a shift on his end, barely audible, but it feels like the air tightens between you through the phone. sukuna exhales slowly through his nose, heat crawling up his neck.
âyeah?â he murmurs. you hum, softly. he didnât realize how much he enjoyed your voice, so he continues talking, voice deeper, the way he speaks when itâs just the two of you, and when youâre underneath him⊠âyou donât post a lot.â
your brow quirks, âlike on instagram?â he hums. âwere you stalking me?â
âwas just on your profile after i saw your story, then your idiot self calls me,â he huffs remembering the way his phone smacked him in the face. he ignores the way he didnât feel embarrassed telling you though.
you laugh, âi probably sensed it,â you tease. heat blooming across your cheeks. âyou want me posting more?â
his breath hitches.
âI can post if you ask me nicely,â you coo through the speaker, voice warm and light. âwhat dâya want to see, ryo?â
the man snorts, biting his lip at the tone in your voice. youâre not making it subtle at all that you want a little bickering this late at night.
âyouâd post if i told you too,â he murmurs, slower. âsince when do you listen to me.â
you smile into your pillow, cheek warm, fingers idly tracing the fabric of your sheets. âdepends how you ask.â
something settles deeper in his chest. ââŠwhatâre you doing right now?â sukuna asks, voice lower, steadier, not rushed.
you swallow lightly. ââŠin bed.â
âyeah?â he hums, hand ghosting over his the subtle bulge in his boxers. âwhatâre you wearing.â
your lips part, wetting your bottom lip as you exhale, ânot much,â you admit, softer now. âshorts.â
âpanties?â he asks, and you shake your head making a little noise. âis that the real reason ya called?â
âno,â you mutter, not knowing whether thatâs a lie or the truth. of course, the possibility lingered in your mind when you thought of himâŠthen when you clicked his contactâŠespecially after, âi had a long dayâŠand some guy asked for my number.â
sukunaâs hand stills, body going rigid.
âand for some reasonâŠit just made me think of you,â the confession filled the quiet space of your rooms. âbut thenâŠi wanted to know, if we still had an agreement together..?â
the question hangs in the air for a moment.
then sukuna shifts, biting back a smirk, âyou can let other guys fuck you if youâre so horny.â you frown, chest tighteningâ âbut i can tell youâre afraid they might get scared of ya.â
your lips part, but he doesnât give you a chance to respond.
âyouâll tell em to go faster and theyâll try, then youâll tell them to go harder and theyâll give ya a look, and then youâll shake that pretty ass waiting for them to spank it, because youâll never say how much ya like it out loud,â sukunaâs words flow easily, turning your stomach into knots, thighs pressing together. âisnât that why you thought of me? i know how wet youâre getting just from my voice.â
your lips part in quiet shock, face burning.
âtell me how drenched your pretty little pussy is,â his voice scratches an itch deep in your core, a small whimper leaving your lips. your hand crawls into your shorts, biting your lip as your slick immediately coats your digits.
âyou touchingâ yourself?â
âMhm,â your cute voice flows straight to his cock, his hand moves over his bulge again. âIâm wet, ryo.â
he bites back a groan, âyou miss havin my voice pressed against your ear, tellin ya what to do?â
you canât hold back the whine that barely escapes your throat, sending a wave of heat rushing down to his cock.
âtake the shorts off, princess.â sukuna immediately hears the rustling of bedsheets from your end. his hand continues to stroke himself over his boxers. you settle back near the phone with a light exhale. âya took em off?â
âyes,â you breathe, lips glossy.
âyou miss havinâ me there with you?â he listens carefully as you whine softly into the phone. âanswer me.â
âyes, i miss you,â you sigh, ghosting a finger over your folds. the light breeze of your bedroom sending a pool of heat between your legs.
âwhat dâyou miss?â
you wet your lips, dipping a finger into your folds. âmiss your hands touching me,â your voice softens, juices collecting on your finger, as you slowly drag it up to your clit. âmiss when youâd stretch me out.â
sukunaâs jaw clenches, palm pressing against his fully erect cock. âcanât stretch yârself?â
you make a noise that sends sukuna into orbit. âmy fingers are too small.â you wet your lips as you continue playing with your clit, your breath growing heavy. âi hate touching myself.â
âhateâs a strong word,â he snorts, shoving his boxers down, unbothered by the how hard he is. he reaches over for the nightstand before pausing. âfuck.â
âwhat?â you fingers pause their movement,
sukuna sits back, cock twitching, âforgot Iâm not in my room.â
your brow quirks, heart stopping, âwhere are you then?â
âI mean at the frat. my little brother took over my room here when I moved out,â he explains, biting his lip as he looks down at his cock. âso no lube.â
oh.
heat spreads across your face.
âwish i had your sweet pussy here to get me nice n wet,â sukuna bites. saliva collects in his mouth as he leans forward, and then he spits a fat glob, watching it land right on his engorged tip. âyouâre all drenched now, arenât you?â
your face stings. of course he knows how drenched you are.
âyou like playing with your pussy?â
your lips part, finger rubbing tight circles on your clit as sukuna lets out a low grunt. you can hear the distant squelch of his hand moving up and down his cock.
ân-no,â you exhale, cheeks hot.
âno?â
âitâs boring haah,â you confess, but your actions are saying the opposite, especially with the added whine in the end.
sukuna squeezes his base, âitâs boring to touch yârself talkinâ to me?â
you hum quietly, lips parting, breathless, and uncharacteristically shy. it was the fact that youâre only hearing his voice, when youâre used to seeing him, touching him, the bickering was mutual even if heâd have your ass bruised everytime you quip backâŠbut this timeâŠyouâre unbelievably aware of the fact that youâre alone. and maybe thatâs why his confidence was overheating your brain in a way that had you touching your poor clit a little quicker.
âeven if I tell you how hard my cock is jusâ talking to you. that doesnât do anything?â
your brain goes dizzy just thinking about sukunaâs thick chubby cock â you donât even realize the pathetic whine that comes out of you.
âdoesnât make your cunt tighten around those fingers?â
your chest heats up, sweat building across your forehead. âIâm not using my fingersâŠâ
sukuna pauses his strokes, thumb nail digging into his slit, turning his cock a darker shade. âyouâre just rubbing that poor nub then?â
a mix of a hum and whine comes out. your fingers slow, mimicking the way sukuna wouldâve been touching you, butâŠitâs not that same, not even close.
âpush in a finger.â
your chest rises, legs parting. âmmâkayâŠâ you leave your clit, fingers covered in your honey as you drag them lower, teasing your puckering hole. âit never feels good when I do it myself though,â you mutter.
sukuna twist his wrist up and down his cock. pre oozes down the veins and ridges, unbothered by the fact that itâs been a minute since heâs jerked off himself. the last time was when he was in your roomâ
he ignores you. âpush a finger in, and keep rubbing your clit fâr me.â
you listen, gently pushing a finger in. the satisfying sensation of fullness doesnât take you over, instead youâre whining softly, breathless as you rub your clit. âit doesnât feel good ryo.â
âpush your fingers deeper, and then ya gotta curl them until you feel that gummy partââ
âit all feels gummy,â you exhale, working your clit faster, not fully realizing your other hand is mimicking the way your fuck buddy fingers you. âhaah Iâm jusâââ you suppress your moans, the speaker picking up every hitch in your throat, and quiet whine.
âyou fingering yourself, baby?â
your lips part, working yourself more. ây-yea-haah..â
sukunaâs voice drops an octave, hand coming down to cup his heavy balls, working his cock faster. âatta girl.â
heat breaks out.
your glossy lips part, choked moans filling sukunaâs ear.
âkeep goingângh, yâer getting my cock so fucking hard,â he grunts, his biceps bulge, veins on his forearms flexing dangerously as he strokes himself aggressively. you whine a little more, his words making you clamp around your pathetic finger, your clit throbs as you rub tighter circles.
ây-you like my voice?â you donât mean to make your voice that breathless, but it comes out either way. what you donât expect is the choked groan that comes from the phone.
âfhuck,â one leg bends up, before butterflying out, fuck he misses your teasing. âyou wanna get spanked for that?â
his lip quirks the moment you whine on instinct.
âknew you were a dirty fucking slut,â he grunts strokes picking up. images of your gorgeous face getting all flustered at his words appears in his mind. âya like gettinâ punished.â
it wasnât a question, but you still deny it with a cute huff from your end. âI donât.â
âyou do,â he states, tongue dragging across his lip, âyou wish I had ya bent over my lap, spanking that pretty ass until ya start crying.â
you hate the way your skin burns, and his name falls from your lips. âIâve never cried.â his loud, deep, laugh rattles through your speaker, sending a wave of heat to your face. your lips purse, finger curling inside you, but coming out just to rub your puffy clit quicker. âdonâ ah laugh at me.â
âyouâre a liar,â he snorts between laughs. his cock is throbbing, bulbous tip a dark shade of red as clear pre dribbles at the slit, sliding down the protruding veins and ridges. it was a filthy pathetic mess how hard he is. âfucking asking for a spanking now.â
âmmm not,â you pant, lips parting as you get closer, his voice the only thing your fixating on. âIâm not haah.â
âyouâd still bend over if i asked,â he smirks at the soft whine that leaves your lips. âyouâd also pull down your pants just to show me how wet your panties are.â your hand sneaks into your shirt, fingers twisting your nipple. âthen youâd get embarrassed when I pinch your little clit through them, scolding you for getting all drenched when this should be a punishment.â
âfuuhâŠâ you choke.
youâre so precious.
his grip tightens on his cock, jerking it harder, abs clenching at the knot coiling inside. âthen youâd start crying when I start making ya count each spank.â
âI wouldnât,â your lips are so wet, sukuna can practically hear how glossy they are.
âyouâre so dumb when you get wet and needy, you donât even realize youâre crying,â he coos, âI think ya do it on purpose.â
âI donât.â
âyou do,â sukunaâs grunt hits your ear. his hand is jerking his painful cock the squelching is so loud you can hear it. âyou know how fucking hard it makes me.â
you whine at the admission, squirming as you draw closer to your relief. tongue poking out, panting into the mic. sukuna groans in response, his throat bops.
âseeinâ you look at me, and I know thereâs nothin else youâre thinking about except my cock,â he bites his lip at the image heâs conjuring up, just as you call his name, light and sweet. âfuck yâer close?â
âMhm,â a breathless moan escapes. âgunna cum.â
âhaah fuck same,â he keeps going, âfuuck I wanna kiss you so bad.â
you whine, legs trembling as you feel your orgasm start to come.
âmiss my dirty girl cumming around my cock ngh,â his grunts arenât as deep or loud, as they are when heâs fucking you. and that small detail sticks in your mind as you feel the searing white relief wash over you. the warmth floods through your body, slow and heavy, leaving your limbs loose against the sheets.
on the other end, sukunaâs groan comes out heavy and deep, hot ropes shooting onto his abs, hand stroking more cum our as he slowly goes quiet⊠breathing hard.
after a moment, he shifts, the faint rustle of fabric and movement carrying through the phone, and his head tips back against the pillow, eyes shut. his cock rests on his stomach, white thick cum all over his abs and happy trail. butâŠ
his mind is blank for once. no kaori. no choso. no future clawing at his chest. just you. the sound of you, and it settles something in him in a way he doesnât question, but just lets it happen, chest rising and falling slower now.
ââŠyou fall asleep?â he mutters after a beat, voice rough, quieter than before.
you shake your head instinctively, even though he canât see it, lashes fluttering as you stare at nothing. ânoâŠjust coming down,â you murmur, voice soft, airy, like youâre barely holding onto it. thereâs a pause. then, almost sheepish, âkinda anticlimacticâŠâ
he huffs a quiet laugh through his nose, glancing down briefly at the mess he made himself before dragging his clean hand over his face.
âyeah,â he agrees, voice gravelly, worn out from the day.
you roll onto your side, curling slightly into your pillow, phone pressed closer to your ear. neither of you says anything for a few seconds, just the quiet sound of each other breathing. an unspoken calmness easing you both.
on his end, you hear him shifting again, something soft brushing against fabric, the faint sound of movement as he cleans up without thinking much about it. itâs mundane, grounded, and real. and all you can think about is how different it would feel if he were actually here. how warm heâd be beside you. how easy it would be to just turn your head and press into him instead of speaking into a phone. your fingers curl into your sheets a little tighter at the thought.
ââŠyouâre quiet again,â he murmurs, settling back in his bed, casually lifting his hips and pulling his boxers up.
âjust tired,â you whisper back. thereâs another pause, as sukuna hears you yawn, his eyes grow heavy. âIâm gonna go to sleep, but,â you yawn again, âsend a video of your brother tomorrow.â
sukuna smiles, âgonna think about your ex?â
âas if,â you snort, âi rarely ever think about that guy.â
sukunaâs tucks an arm behind his head, âso you think about him?â
you yawn, rolling onto your stomach, âIâm gonna go to sleep now.â
sukuna doesnât comment on the not-so-subtle deflection, he just lets the silence sit for a second longer before muttering a low, âgânight.â
you echo it back, softer. neither of you hangs up right away, but eventually the line clicks. and the room is quiet again.
he doesnât move for a while after. he lays there, staring at the ceiling, phone still loose in his hand. the fan hums overhead, pushing around warm summer air lingering through the cracked window. everything feelsâŠslower, quieter, his skin stinky from his orgasm. his mind isnât clawing at him like it has been for the past three weeks. itâs dulled, softened at the edges, and annoyinglyâŠitâs because of you.
your voice. the way you call his name. the way you needed him, even from miles away.
sukuna exhales through his nose, dragging a hand down his face before finally tossing his phone onto the mattress beside him. his eyes close not long after, body sinking heavier into the bed. and for once sleep comes easy.
the next morning hits hot. the heat sticks to his skin before the sunâs even fully up, and sukunaâs already running. shirtless, drenched in sweat, muscles pulling and flexing with every stride as he cuts along the stretch near the water. his breathing is steady, controlled, but his mind is anything butâŠit was yesterday, but he expected some information from toji, or shiu. and his gramps words all coming back to him.
everything loops and overlaps, and it presses in from every angle until his jaw is tightening and his pace picks up just a little more, trying to outrun his fucking head.
his shoulders are rising and falling as he slows, sweat dripping down the sharp lines of his chest, his back, and disappearing into the waistband of his shorts. a few early beachgoers glance his wayâlingering longer than necessaryâbut sukuna barely registers it. his mind is still somewhere else. the day goes by like a clock.
every blink and heâs somehow in a new location.
he ends up, back home in the bathroom. shower running. mirror fogging. and somehow his phone is resting on the counter as heâs hunched over, finger swipingâand your profile pulled up.
he scrolls without thinking. his thumb flicking lazily through pictures, your face, your smile, the ones from your study abroad trip, the old ones from nights out. he even goes through your highlights againâŠhe pauses on one. zooms in slightly. his jaw shifts.
ââŠfuck,â he mutters under his breath, head tipping back for a second like heâs annoyed at himself more than anything else. this is stupid. and yet, his hand wonât stop jerking his cock.
he needs you here.
his thumb taps your name before he can overthink it. the message bar blinks and he stares at it for a second. then types, quick, blunt, like itâs nothing.
send me a pic.
your lips purse as you glance at your phone. you and shoko, by some miracle have a weekend off, and thatâs spent lounging in your basement. well, until youâre shifting your attention from the movie, to your phone screen.
what in the worldâŠyour fingers tapâŠ
[1:08PM] crybaby: wdym a pic?
[1:08PM] dumbass: need some help with this
*attached photo*
your eyes bulge out of their eye sockets, phone slamming into your chest, hiding your screen, and head whipping up. shoko cranes her neck, focus on the movie still, but giving you a glance, âthere wasnât even a jumpscare.â
your eyes snap to her, âno, I just remembered i had to send my dad this one fileâŠthing⊠from myâyeah give me one second.â you scramble up to your feet, heading to the stairs.
âyou want me to pauseâ!?â shoko yells after.
within the blink of an eye, youâre back in your room, gawking at the lewd, perverted, uncalled for dick pic you were just sent.
you can recognize sukunaâs chubby engorged cock anywhere. heat crawls up your neck in seconds, the tuft of dark hair at the base and his hand wrapped around the monster, veins protruding and tip flushed red and leaking. your lips purse, controlling the way you feel your pussy clench.
[1:10PM] crybaby: uâre jerking off in the middle of the day?
[1:10PM] dumbass: yea so send a fucking pic so I can get off
[1:10PM] dumbass: ur ig is ass
you tsk, face still warm.
[1:10PM] crybaby: rude
[1:11PM] crybaby: weird asl youâre getting off to my ig anyways
[1:11PM] dumbass: weird asl my dumb ass fuck buddy isnât fixing my problem
[1:11PM] crybaby: RUDEEEE SO RUDE
sukunaâs head tips forward in irritation. his jaw tightens as he looks down at his painful erection.
[1:12PM] crybaby: srsly tho
[1:12PM] crybaby: you canât send or show anyone
[1:12PM] dumbass: wtf?? y tf would I do that
[1:13PM] crybaby: itâs almost like youâre in a frat or smt
sukuna tsks.
[1:13PM] dumbass: no one will see the pic
[1:13PM] dumbass: send
[1:12PM] crybaby: say please
his lip twitchesâŠ.
[1:13PM] dumbass: please
youâre sat on the edge of your bed, dangerous smile plastered on your face.
[1:13PM] crybaby: please what?
he wets his lips, palm squeezing his cock, as starts moving his hand. fuck, youâre such a brat.
[1:14PM] dumbass: please send me pic of you
youâre already taking off your shorts and panties, typingâŠ
[1:15PM] crybaby: I dunno if u sound sincere
sukuna frowns.
[1:15PM] crybaby: send me a voice note
death.
sukunaâs scowl almost cracks the mirror. youâre fucking messing with him, but at this point, heâs in desperate need of release. and unfortunately, heâd rather cum in a second just from looking at a photo of you, than search for a vid on x thatâll get him to cum in hours. so within the next thirty seconds of cursing you out under his breath. the thirty seconds following, was him tapping the audio, and holding his phone close to his lips.
[1:17PM] dumbass: *audio recording*
the first thing you hear is your name, then a distantâŠgruntâŠ
âcan you please,â he practically seethes, voice unbelievably deep⊠ââŠsend me a goddamn photo. pleaseângââ the audio cuts off his groan.
youâre lips part.
oh. my. god.
your face bursts into flames. you position yourself, kneeling on your bed, phone up, shirt pushed over your breasts. your nipples hard from the cool air. you spread your legs, just wide enough for him to see that youâre completely bare down there. your cheeks sting, eyes darting over the photo, thumb hovering over the send buttonâŠ
heâs just a fuck buddyâŠ.but heâs also a frat guyâŠyou hesitate. your heart beats against your chest, uncharacteristically nervous.
[1:20PM] dumbass: youâre killing me here
fuck, heâs so hotâ
[1:20PM] crybaby: *photo attached*
his jaw tightens, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. then he clicks the photo, and his breath catches somewhere in his chest as his eyes drag slowly over the image. your lips slightly parted, your chest, bare and soft under the daylight coming in from your room. the angleâs lazy and careless, barely even trying.
ââŠfuck,â he mutters under his breath.
his hand braces against the counter, fingers spreading slightly against the cool surface as he leans forward, head dipping. his patience, already worn thin from the run, from the past few weeks, from everything. and itâs your picture that has sukuna buckling over, aggressively jerking his swollen cock, zooming in on your tits, then back to your face, and finally shooting his load on himself and the counter.
âfuck.â
you barely make it back downstairs when you receive a photo, followed by a text. you flush at the bottom of the steps, flustered smile pulling at your lips as you stare at the cum covering sukunaâs sculpted abs, and then a thanks.
you heart the message, keeping your comment about how itâs barely been five minutes since you sent the photo, to yourself. and unfortunately the moment you glance up, your smile immediately drops.
âI was calling you,â your mom throws as she walks past you, easily scooping up your four year old niece, yazzy.
âshe was ignoring you on purpose.â
your vein pops.
âI wasnât ignoring her,â you snap at jennie, irritation written all over your voice as shoko pops her head out from the kitchen. âwhy did you come a week early, I thought you had stuff to do?â
your mom huffs at the attitude, her eyes flicking to see shoko, before plastering a smile, âalways arguing,â she waves, her attempt at distracting your friend. âsisters.â
shoko laughs through her nose, smiling. as your mom introduces your niece to shoko, youâre reluctantly helping jennie with her suitcases, purposely giving her the cold shoulder. considering the last time you spoke turned into an argument and her leaving for the airport, you hadnât reached out since.
âhowâs working with dad?â
your eyes flick to her. âfine.â
âgood.â thereâs a beat of silence, just as shoko comes back to the living room.
âIâm gonna go to target,â shoko says.
your eyes lit up, âoh Iâm coming too!â
shoko reserves her thoughts until youâre both in your sisterâs old car. music filling the space, windows rolled down, and shoko glancing at the road ahead. âdo you usually fight with your sister?â
you blink, slightly caught off guard. âI mean,â you try to form your thoughts, âsheâs just judgmental, and likeânever puts herself in other peopleâs shoes.â you shift in the drivers seat. âshe thinks sheâs the smartest person in the world.â
shoko isnât like utahimeâŠshe doesnât pry in a lot, but sheâs been staying with you for the last few weeks, so itâs only inevitable that she picks up on certain things. one of which is your horrible habit of avoiding any relationship head on. while your sister is one, she clearly sees it almost everyday when you guys are at the hospital.
for the amount of times you avoid mentioning your dad when youâre in school, youâre the first to help if he needs anything at work. the first to step in, the first to skip your lunch to help, the first to actâŠand youâre not embarrassed.
except when other doctors are around, seeing thisâŠand the comments follow afterâŠ
âyouâre such a good daughter.â âyou must be your parents favorite.â âI wish my son would act like you.â âyour dad must be so proud.â
and thatâs when shoko would notice the shift. the way youâd get quiet, the way youâd force out a smile, the way youâd excuse yourself to finish work. and shoko couldnât understand the difference until you were at the bar after work. you werenât even drinking, your sad sat comfortably in your hand as you stared at the sticky table.
âi have no idea why adults think i wanna hear being called my parents favorite like Iâm ten or something,â you scowl quietly, irritation bubbling over from the long ass day.
âyeah that was weird,â shoko nods along sipping from her drink and scrolling on her phone.
âlike actually, Iâm my dads favorite because Iâm doing exactly what he wants me to do. obviously Iâm not gonna embarrass him and be lazy especially because he got me this job, but that doesnât mean i want to be there,â you groan head falling on the bar. âfreaking hate working there, and i hate his stupid comments.â
shoko glances up, âdid he say something today?â
you frown, âI canât do this without you,â you recall his words, brows pinching tighter. âbros acting like Iâm the best support beam ever, freaking doormat canât even say anything back.â you bury your face in your arm.
shoko reaches a hand out, touching your arm in comfort. âyeahâŠhopefully you get something after the program.â
you hum quietly, higuramaâs words from a few weeks ago resurfacing. âI have that meeting with hiromiâs uncle next week.â
shokoâs eyes light up. âohh thatâs really good!â
you smile at her excitement, nodding. âyeah, hopefully he gets me a contact.â
shoko nods frantically, âfor sure for sure!â she waves a bartender, âletâs get a shot.â
âjust one,â you cut in.
as the bartender slides two shot glances towards you gushing, shoko is raising the glass. âand gojo finally decided on dates for the trip.â
your brows furrow, âisnât that with just your little high school group?â
shoko nods, âlast summer gojo invited a ton of randos, and me and utahime told him weâre gonna invite you, but you had something last summer.â oh right. âso do these dates work for you,â shoko says turning her phone screen towards you.
you hum, butterflies breaking out inside your chest. itâll be a good summerâŠ.just after these hellish few weeks.
so shoko stays silent on the ride to target, easily changing the topic and turning up the volume to the music.Â
âoh and sorry about my sister barging in, but sheâll be in a hotel next week when her husband comes, so you can just stay with me in my room.âÂ
shoko waves you off, âall good.âÂ
and the flow in the car returns as shoko talks about how she didnât like the movie you just watched, while you defend it, hands flying, voice animated, a laugh slipping out of you. completely unaware of the events that transpire hours later, a few hundred miles away, with a certain soccer captainâ
the venue is loud. amps buzzing, feedback screeching through cheap speakers, bodies packed shoulder to shoulder as the set bleeds into chaos with applause. people are shouting, laughing, drinks sloshing onto the floorâ
and sukuna is already pushing through it, hard. people stumble when he hits them, curses thrown over shoulders, but he doesnât stop. doesnât apologize. doesnât even look back. his expression is sharp, carved in something ugly and his jaw is locked so tight it aches, eyes dark and fixed on one thing only. backstage.
âmove,â he snaps, voice cutting through the noise like a blade. someone tries to protest just for sukuna to aggressively shove past them anyway.
the curtain jerks as he pushes through, the muffled roar of the crowd dropping just enough, and then he sees him. choso.
sitting off to the side, shoulders hunched, eyes redâŠtoo red. his hands are clenched in his lap, knuckles pale, breathing uneven. sukunaâs blood pressure spikes so fast it feels dizzying, a rush of heat flooding his chest, his arms, his hands. and his fists are already curling before he even realizes it.
because just a foot away stands kaori.
sukuna goes completely still for half a second, his gaze dragging from her to the red mark on chosoâs cheek.
then something in him snaps.
a/n: I know that was more than a month wait for the chapter. so many things happened, ramadan, work, etc. and I really thank you all for your patience, and it always makes me so unbelievably grateful that you guys are still reading, so thank you thank you thank you!!Â
and this was a very plot heavy chapter, and because I made you guys wait so long Iâll just lyk that next chapter will include the summer trip gojo has been planning, so itâll be fun :p

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my graduation is in 7 days and the saxophones just keep getting louder like iâm so nervous and idk why (actually yes i do)
iâm graduating a year late (is it really late?? just on my own timeline) and i donât talk to anyone in my graduating class the few friends i did make are either already graduated or not graduating yet. so im going to be lonely for most of the ceremonies đ and i still havenât ordered my dress yet
my dress is ordered yayyy
i lowkey wanna get into calisthenics. itâs seems cool the people are able to control their body
iâm only every on here anymore like once very few weeks. itâs so weird
iâve been throwing myself into kpop twt which is actually fun when youâre not on the toxic side
my graduation is in 7 days and the saxophones just keep getting louder like iâm so nervous and idk why (actually yes i do)
iâm graduating a year late (is it really late?? just on my own timeline) and i donât talk to anyone in my graduating class the few friends i did make are either already graduated or not graduating yet. so im going to be lonely for most of the ceremonies đ and i still havenât ordered my dress yet
and i donât have a job. ive been done with my classes since December but still lived where my collge is and still worked on campus until February when I came back home. and thankfully my mom is one of the best ever and is not forcing me to get a job but i want one and the fact that i dont have any lined up is driving me crazy.
i havenât worked since February and iâm broke and when youâre in school itâs kinda easy to not be bothered with not having a job but now iâm really not going to have anything to do but sit around at home (which iâve been doing honestly so nothing new idk why it bothers me more now)
and none of my friends live in my state or country so iâll be alone until i find someway to make new friends but i have no money to join hobbies or do anything.
iâm only every on here anymore like once very few weeks. itâs so weird

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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my graduation is in 7 days and the saxophones just keep getting louder like iâm so nervous and idk why (actually yes i do)
iâm graduating a year late (is it really late?? just on my own timeline) and i donât talk to anyone in my graduating class the few friends i did make are either already graduated or not graduating yet. so im going to be lonely for most of the ceremonies đ and i still havenât ordered my dress yet
Right to Love (Part One)
Your secret, annual summer fling with your best friendâs brother was never meant to last â but when his mother catches you in his bed, everything changes. Cornered, he does the only thing he can think of: he tells her the two of you are engaged.
âž PAIRING: Clark Kent x F!Reader âž WARNINGS: NSFW 18+, secret fwb to lovers, best friend's brother (kara is clark's sibling), fake engagement, hurt/comfort, fluff, semi-public sex (three smut scenes), thigh riding, so much miscommunication (guilty pleasure), insecurities on reader's part, jealousy, clark dirty talks, inaccurate portrayal of smallville (picturing super small town), reader has a shit ex âžÂ WORD COUNT: 12.9K âž A/N: this fic was truly self-indulgent, all of my fave tropes in one place. this is part of @elixirfromthestars' arcade! i played elixir's hold 'em and ended up with a four of a kind (best friend's sibling, summer fling, sworn off relationships, and fake engagement). thanks for such a fun event mel <3 this is my longest work to date so splitting it into two parts - final one coming next week!! i love seeing your responses so any reblogs/comments/likes are always greatly appreciated mwah!!!
†main masterlist | part two âŠ
Whoever thought it would be a good idea to spend a week of your precious and extremely limited paid time off in Smallville, of all places, should be pulverized. You couldâve been sipping margaritas in the Bahamas or traipsing around Miami Beach with a scrumptious cubano in hand. You couldâve been sitting at home in your perfectly comfortable couch with your perfectly comfortable air conditioning.
But no, you love your best friend Kara dearly, and she managed to convince you and a few of your friends to do the groupâs annual trip in her hometown in Kansas. Oh, how you wish you could be Dorothy in that moment and find yourself on a yellow brick road rather than this sweltering airport.
Smallville in the summer is a far cry from your ideal vacation. The closest airport is two hours away and youâre greeted by the sight of a building that looks like it barely functions and hasnât been upgraded since the Middle Ages. You had been cramped into a small airplane that youâre convinced does not have all of its nuts and bolts considering how much it rattled (you donât want to think about the strange tilt of the wings). It takes you a full hour to get your suitcase from baggage claim that has no air conditioning; mind you, itâs because there is no overhead compartment, so they forced you to check your carry-on into cargo (an equally cramped space).
To make matters worse, Karaâs work forced her to delay her trip by one day which means youâre already locked in to arriving a full day earlier than everyone else, thinking that youâd get to spend some quality time with her after being separated for nearly an entire year (itâs been a rough year for both of you).
âHow am I supposed to get to your house?â You had asked â more like whined after she told you the bad news.
She sounded even more upset than you. âDonât worry, Clark will be there!â
Your heart had leapt to your throat at the thought.
Now, youâre faced with this incredibly difficult, exceedingly troubling situation. Said situation is basically being stuck in a car for two hours with Clark Kent.
Clark Kent stands at over six feet tall, sticking out like a sore â but stupidly delicious â thumb outside the airport. Heâs in a pair of denim jeans and a t-shirt that appears to be fighting to keep its threads intact around his bicep. His long frame is leaning against a rusty red pickup truck.
The moment you push the doors open to step outside, his eyes spot you. Brilliant, bejeweled blue even from this distance. He covers that distance in no time with his ridiculously long legs, barely breathless as your name falls from his lips.
âItâs been a while,â he beams softly. His hand immediately commandeers your suitcase like the caveman-gentleman that he is. âHow was your flight?â
You shudder at the sound of the tumbling cogs still echoing in your ear. âTerrifying,â you mutter, âhow do you even fit in those tiny planes?â
The question sounds foolish now that youâve said it out loud.
âForget I asked.â
His smile is shy and sheepish as he blinks down at you. âPerks of the job, I guess.â
âI hardly think being an unpaid superhero should count as a job. Otherwise, Iâd be reporting⊠someone to the Department of Labor for withheld wages.â
Then he laughs and the sound is buoyant and clear in this empty parking lot. You feel it spark warmth, tingling to your fingertips.
Girl, get a grip.
You fan yourself a little under the pretense of the disgusting heat. At least the air is cooler out here than inside that sauna. Your bare legs that stretch out from under your shorts certainly appreciate the kiss of the wind. Youâre able to breathe a little easier despite the humidity.
An act that is short-lived when you notice how his gaze flickers to your exposed skin.
Clearing his throat, Clark stops when he reaches his truck. He carefully lifts your bag to the bed of his truck and straps it down. You eye it suspiciously.
His lips twitch with the threat of amusement. âItâs not going to fly out. Promise. Flat roads from here on out.â
âDonât mean to be rude but might be faster if you just flew both of us back to your home,â you suggest with a raised eyebrow.
It would make it easier for you too to avoid being trapped with him for a full hundred and twenty minutes in a car with nowhere to go.
Clark chuckles as he swings open the passenger seat for you, even going as far as to offer you a hand to help you climb the height of the vehicle. You almost imagine the ghost of his hand pushing you up by your ass, but thatâs just distasteful dreaming.
âIâd rather keep our mayor in the dark about how Superman had landed and was raised in Smallville. I donât think thatâs the kind of marketing the other guy would be interested in.â
âThe other guy is really only popular in Metropolis so maybe he could use a bit of a boost from a bumfuck small town.â
He laughs again and you have to stomp on those ridiculous little flutters.
The drive is peaceful. With both hands on the wheel, Clark taps his finger against the leather to the rhythm of some pop song crackling through the speakers. He makes small talk to fill the silence. He asks you about life, about your job, about the tiny apartment youâve been trying to furnish for the last few months. Cordial. Polite. Safe. All conversational topics that are reasonable for two friends.
That is, until he asks whether youâre seeing anyone.
It should be a normal question to ask a friend. Hell, even a stranger. But you know Clark better than that and you know the underlying curiosity underneath.
Heat creeps up your neck again. You feel as if youâre back in that cursed airport as you find your voice to respond to him. âNo, not seeing anyone right now.â
He doesnât even look at you when the corners of his lips tip up into a pleased smile. You knew what he was asking â and you basically gave him the green light. He takes your confirmation as permission.
His right hand slides off the wheel and lands on your thigh. His very large palm stretching across your leg.
You swallow thickly.
âThis okay?â His voice is soft. Genuine worry laced into his question.
Instead of verbalizing your response, you only manage a nod as you prop an elbow on the door. Your face turns towards the deserted road outside to hide your embarrassment. To hide the racing of your heart. The anticipation bubbling beneath your veins.
It doesnât take him long for his hand to slide higher and higher until you feel his fingers toying with the button on your pants. Deft fingers that pop it open easily. Itâs terribly sexy how good he is at that.
He reaches down your pants, fingers skimming over the thin fabric of your panties until he finds your clothed slit. A delighted hum slips past the seam of his lips when he finds you already damp. His fingers trace along your sensitive lips, featherlight, but youâre eager enough that you find your hips jerking upwards in search of his touch.
Your chest rises and falls with the breath that hitches in your throat. âAre we really doing this already?â You rasp, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to prevent the moan from escaping.
You hate how responsive you are to him. How your bodyâs been trained to respond to him. That familiar touch eliciting those familiar sparks of electricity. No matter how many times heâs done this, how many times youâve fallen apart in his hands, youâre no less receptive than the first time.
Clark chances a glance your way and simply murmurs, âMissed touching you.â
A whimper actually does crawl its way out of your throat this time. How are you supposed to say no to that? You let your legs fall open, hips lifting off the seat just enough so he can tug your pants a little lower, sneak his fingers in even deeper. He applies a little bit more pressure on your slit, you can feel your panties soaking up your juices.
âSo wet already, honey,â he whispers.
Honey. The first time Clark used that pet name on you, youâd told him absolutely not. However, like everything else heâs done, youâve grown used to it. Your insides turn gooey when he uses that sweet little nickname. Something so syrupy when heâs doing something oh so filthy.
âItâs been a while,â you mutter under your breath.
âWere you waiting for me?â
At that, you canât help the defensive scoff that spits out of your mouth. âNo.â
Maybe.
âWhen was the last time someone touched you?â
You donât want to answer that. Itâs an embarrassing answer â one that you fear will inflate his ego too much.
Unfortunately, your non-answer is answer enough.
âBeen a while,â he echoes your earlier sentiment.
âDonât get too full of yourself.â
âWhy? Didnât find anyone you liked these past few months?â
You press your lips together. The day that you admit you canât seem to finish with anyone else, not when youâve already had a taste â or ten â of Clark, is the day this world comes to an end. Not even Superman can pry this information out of you.
âNo,â you answer easily.
Clarkâs thumb presses down on your clit and you immediately jolt forward with a groan. His fingers tug the gusset of your panties to the side as he slides his fingers easily along your slick folds. He moans when he finds how quickly you coat his fingers.
âMe too,â Clark admits. âHavenât been â gosh, youâre dripping â havenât been with anyone since, you know, last time.â Whether itâs to save you from your own confession or Clark is just being his honest self, you donât know. Still, you appreciate the thought.
Your face warms again with his words and maybe any other time, you would have the self-control or decency to stop him. However, in that moment, when youâre pent up from your frustrating flight and months of reaching your orgasm only by your fingers alone, you canât help but appreciate his fingers on you.
You slide down a little further on your seat, granting him access to finally push his fingers inside you. Thick, long fingers that curl that delicious flash of friction in your pulsing cunt.
Itâs criminal how good he is at this. At sex in general, really. You know that itâs partly attributed to his superpowers. Clark knows the rhythm of your heartbeat like itâs his own. Itâs how he knows exactly when whatever heâs doing is working on you. How heâs learned what your body loves, what makes it burn. He can hear how your heart rate skyrockets when he slides his fingers deeper, when he does a slow drag out to pull a moan from your chest. He knows when heâs doing a good job, but it doesnât mean that he doesnât enjoy hearing you admit how much you want him out loud anyway.
He takes some sick satisfaction in making you ask for it.
âWhat do you want? Tell me.â
âYou know what.â
âI need you to use your words, honey.â
Curse whoever ever said Clark is the good boy next door, the one who buys you flowers and opens your door. He does all that and can be so sweetly condescending in the sexiest way possible. While youâre usually irritated by any form of male patronization, thereâs something about the way Clark does it.
Like heâs doing it for you because he knows you like it.
âFuck me with your fingers, Clark,â you gasp as he begins to pump his fingers in and out of you.
Your vision of the road is a blurry mess, greens and browns melting together as your eyes roll to the back. Your head slams against the chair as your hands curl around his wrist. Clark doesnât miss a beat, keeps stroking you with his fingers like itâs his purpose.
His eyes dart between the road and you, conflicted now that heâs started this game that he has to finish. He drinks you in, the sight of your neck stretching out as you tip your head back, as your hips lift to chase his fingers.
âI canâtâ Iâll finish you when we get back. I need to driveââ
âPull over.â
âWhat?â He balks.
âPull over somewhere,â you pant, tightening your grip around his wrist to keep him there. You roll your hips to rut against his hand. The ball of his palm pressing against your clit as he finger fucks you until your brain is turned to mush. âClark, please.â
You swear you hear him curse before he takes a turn down an abandoned dirt path. He uses his hand covered in your slick to put the car into park and, before he can utter anything, youâre unbuckling your seatbelt and climbing over to his seat, straddling his thick thighs.
Clarkâs eyes widen, pupils blowing up as he looks at you. He groans almost painfully. âIâm so hard. Iâve been thinking about this all night.â
âAll night?â
He eagerly nods as he helps you shimmy out of your shorts, leaving you in your drenched panties on top of him. âKnew Kara and the others were coming later. I couldnât stop thinking about having you like this. Or at home. Wherever youâll let me have you. Missed this pussy of yours.â
Your heart slams against your chest as your cunt traitorously throbs with the kind of desperation that would be concerning to feminism. âYeah? Did you jerk yourself off thinking about me, Clark? Hope you kept your voice down so your parents wouldnât hear you stroking this fat cock of yours to the thought of my cunt.â
âYouââ he growls, âSometimes I wish I could just slide myself down your throat to stop you from saying such filthy things.â
A smirk curls on your lips. âYou like me filthy. You like me dripping all over you.â
Your fingers fumble with his pants this time, hurriedly yanking the fabric down to free his cock for your access. Youâre quick to position yourself on top of him, tip hot red and angry dipping into your entrance. Your slick is already rolling down his length when Clarkâs hand squeezes your hip.
âC-condom?â He asks. The reluctance in his voice is obvious. Itâs not that he wonât fuck you without one. Itâs that he doesnât want to.
âIâm clean, are you?â
Clark nods and his expression morphs into parted lips and blue eyes blown wide as you sink on him. With your hands planted on his broad shoulders, you begin to ride him â slowly at first as you adjust to his size again.
Heâs big. Too big sometimes. Youâre lucky with how wet you are right now that the slide eases the burn of the stretch. His thick cock has your pussy tightening in resistance, but you keep going, all the way until heâs buried deep inside you.
âFeels so good,â he moans, âyouâre always so tight, but you always make it fit, donât you? You take my cock so well.â
Your pussy clamps down around him, your pace faltering with his words.
âLook at her. Sheâs swallowing me right up. Sheâs greedy, always taking me all the way in,â Clark coos as he watches his cock disappear into you over again, each time you burrow him deeper and deeper inside you. âMy favorite pussy. Sheâs so pretty taking me in like this.â
You lean back and place your hands on his thighs as you roll your hips to drive him in deeper. âFuck, Clark. Every time I see you, feels like you've gotten bigger.â
âNo, honey, itâs just because your pussy tightens up,â he chuckles, fingers brushing your hips. âShe just has to get used to me again. Iâll stretch you out, donât worry. âM gonna make you feel so good.â
âPlay with my tits,â you rasp. âWant your hands on my tits.â
You know what youâre doing. This is both for you and him. Youâve always loved seeing how big his hands are, how they cover your breasts entirely. How he can be both delicate and rough when he toys with your nipples.
His fingers unbutton your shirt slowly and, the more he does, the wider his eyes go.
Clark lets out a moan when he sees your nipples in the open air. âNo bra?â He squeaks. âYou went through TSA like this?â
Your lips tip up into a smirk. âDonât worry, nobody gave me a pat down.â
âBetter not have,â he growls low, âthese are mine.â
Your pussy and heart flutter with his possessive declaration. You nearly bite out a snappy retort, asking him since when am I yours but the words fizzle out behind your ribs when Clark grabs your hips and begins to earnestly fuck up into you. Heâs careful not to hurt you, but tests your limits with how hard heâs gripping you. Youâre sure to bruise but these kinds of marks, he knows you donât mind. You like when he stakes his claim.
His head dips to take one nipple into his mouth, one of his hands rising along your torso, thumb brushing the underside of your breast as he lifts it slightly. His tongue circles the peaked bud, hot and wet until youâre throwing your head back in ecstasy. He nibbles lightly on the sensitive skin, enough to draw out another whine from your throat.
âSo pretty. Youâre always so beautiful,â he murmurs against your skin. âPussy feels like heaven. So tight around my cock, honey. All mine. Tell me your pussy is all mine.â
You gasp when Clark thrusts up particularly hard, keen eyes searching yours. Swallowing, you hold on to the last thread of your pride as you resist the urge to cave into him.
âCome on, tell me. I wonât let you cum if you donât say it.â
âClark,â you whimper, âdonât be mean.â
âNot mean,â he murmurs, âjust want you to tell me that this pussy is mine. That nobody else has touched it. That nobody else will ever touch it.â
Itâs a terrifying admission, even in the heat of the moment. Deep in your gut, you know that no one else will ever feel as good as Clark. No one else will ever get you to finish the same way he does. Fireworks and heat streaking across your skin.
But you give in to him so he will give in to you.
âMy pussyâs yours,â you cry out.
âSay it again.â
âMy pussyâs yours. Only yours.â
âNo one else can touch it. Youâre always saving this pretty, tight pussy for me.â
âFuck, itâs yours, Clark. Please, please, fuckâ hnng, need toâ I want to cum, please.â
Clark groans as he angles his hips just right so that heâs fucking into that delicious spot inside of you over and over again until you canât find it in you to think or even breathe. The gasp is wrangled from your throat as he rips the orgasm straight from under you, your back arching as your fingers dig into his shoulders, the pleasure crashing over you in waves. Your body shudders against him as you feel him spill inside you, warmth painting your walls as he jerks a few more times.
You slump forward, forehead against his shoulder as he continues to cum inside you. You can feel the cum leaking from where youâre joined, too much for you to keep inside yourself. It trickles down your thighs, dripping onto Clarkâs jeans as evidence of your little tryst.
A giggle slips past your lips as you sigh against him.
His clean hand (he knows you have a thing against it otherwise) reaches up to stroke your head as he turns to press his lips on your temple. âWhatâre you laughing about?â He mumbles against your skin.
âJustâ this. We really couldnât wait to find a bed to fuck.â
His chest rumbles with his laugh. âWell, my ma and pa are home too so we wouldnât have had a chance until tonight.â He pauses, then says, âAnd we both know you canât keep your voice down.â
You launch yourself back with a glare, hand weakly swatting his chest. âHey, speak for yourself. If I sucked your dick, youâd be crying and begging for me to stop because you canât handle it.â
âThatâs just because I want to cum inside you instead of your mouth.â
Your cunt pulses around him, squeezing. Traitor.
âYou like that, donât you?â He grins easily.
âWhatever,â you mutter. Wincing, you extract yourself from him and feel more of his cum leaking from between your puffy pussy.
Before you can move back to the passenger seat, Clark sits you down on his lap. His hand settles on your inner thigh, thumb pressing against your swollen pussy lips to open you up to him. He watches as his cum dribbles out of your cunt, before he uses his fingers to fuck them back into you.
âDonât want to waste it,â he smiles boyishly.
This fucker.
âYouâre the worst.â
âYou wonât be saying that when I tell you Iâve figured out the many other stops we can have along the way â you know, if you wanted a second or third round.â
Youâre warm to the tips of your ears. âYouâre insatiable.â
âItâs been a while,â he chuckles.
Clarkâs parents greet you with a good dose of midwestern charm, followed by a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and Earl Grey tea. He regards you with mild amusement as you glance at him in alarm when his mother wraps you in a massive hug, telling you that she feels as if youâre one of her own.
âOh, Iâve heard so much about you from Kara and Clark! Itâs such a joy to finally meet you, honey. Come on in. Are you hungry? Did you want to clean up first? Iâve got some extra towels in Karaâs room for you. Clark, be a dear and show her around, will you? I just need to pull out the cinnamon loaf from the oven.â
Itâs like a tornado, a whirlwind of movement all at once. A very pleasant tornado. Clark ends up giving you the comprehensive tour of the farmhouse. The Kent house looks fully lived in â well-worn vintage furniture with stitched florals, family photos dotting the walls and shelves to show any guest how loved the two Kent kids are, and touches of an old-fashioned home with typical clichĂ© quotes hanging in frames or sewn onto throw pillows.
Clark blushes when you stare a little too long at the live, laugh, love painted onto a piece of wood above the toilet. âMa loves that kind of thing. She buys a new one almost every time she goes into town.â
âWish I had known, I couldâve gotten her another one for her collection,â you grin. âItâs sweet, Clark. Very charming.â
His smile softens slightly as he guides you to Karaâs room. âIâll let you get settled in then. I have to help pa out with a few things, but let me know if you need anything. You have my number.â
Karaâs room is similar to the one she had in college. Posters of her favorite rock bands, pink wallpaper painted over with abstract murals that you find all too familiar. Thereâs a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room with frilly pink sheets that you doubt she picked herself. For the next hour, you unpack all your belongings, finding yourself dreading stepping outside and facing the music.
You had met Kara in college, freshman year, and the two of you were bonded for life. It started with a snooty remark from another student, and you and Kara had intervened at the same time, finding your sister-in-arms on day one. Two of you were similar in that you were both bull-headed, a little bit temperamental, but fiercely loyal. You loved her the moment you met her.
Sophomore year found the two of you unsurprisingly rooming together. The two of you were truly inseparable then. You thought you knew everything about her. That was until she saidâ
âMy brother needs to come by,â she groans.
âYou have a brother?â
That was when you were introduced to Clark Kent. Before you even met him, you had a strong inkling that you wouldnât be a big fan of the guy. He was a year older than Kara but he was in a frat. Not that thereâs anything wrong with participating in social activities on campus, but Greek life? Yes, you had formed your own preconceived notions about him.
So when Clark finally âswung byâ to pick up one of his jackets while Kara was gone, you were caught off guard by the sight of this bumbling six-foot-four-mess who kept fidgeting with his thick-rimmed glasses. Clark, with his nervous smile and constant shifting, was a complete antithesis to Kara who had a permanent scowl and a sharp tongue.
Then you started seeing him everywhere on campus. Youâve seen him around before but now you canât stop noticing him. Heâs the mop of curls trying to shrink himself at the front of your English literature classroom, heâs the light laughter ringing across the dining hall, heâs the designated driver who physically gathered up the drunkards and piled them into the groupâs car to send them home at the end of the night.
But heâs also the guy whoâs always surrounded by some of the frattiest guys on campus and the guy whoâs constantly swarmed by women grabbing at his biceps and running their hands down his chest.
âYour brotherâs a bit of a player, huh?â You pointed out once to Kara, your eagle eyes focused across the room on Clark, who was humoring Bonnie from psychology as she yapped his ear off.
He didnât seem to mind, laughing at whatever she was saying, which had her beaming.
Kara turned around, eyes following yours as you witnessed the atrocity that was Bonnie straight up flattening her manicured palm on his left tit. âWho? Clark?â She snorted, âThe furthest. You canât see it but that man is plotting the most polite escape route. Give it a second.â
Sure enough, the moment his eyes landed on you, they burned a brighter blue. He said something to Bonnie that had her pouting, turning to look at your table, before he made a beeline in your direction, sliding into the empty seat next to you.
âWhat happened with Bonnie?â You cocked an eyebrow.
âYou know her?â Clark raised one right back. âShe was, uh, talking about the fratâs winter gala thing.â His face distorted in a wince. âAsked me if I had a date.â
âOh, while groping you?â Kara snickered.
Clark threw her a look. âBe nice. She meant well.â
âShe meant she wanted your dick,â Kara noted then winced, âI donât know why I just said that. I take it back. I donât want to know about your sex life.â
His neck flushed a deep red as his eyes darted toward you for a brief second before he whipped his gaze away with a cough. âAnyways, I didnât want to lead her on. So I told her I was already going with someone else.â
âWell, now you have to show up with a date,â Kara noted.
âYeah.â Clark scratched the back of his ear then flicked his gaze towards you again. âFunny story.â
Dread sank into your gut. âClark, no.â
âIâm sorry,â he flinched, âbut she wanted to know who and I saw you and obviously I couldnât say Kara so⊠here we are.â
âI have to go to your fratâs winter gala? Over my dead body.â
âItâll be fun! Drinks and food. Iâll cover your ticket, obviously,â Clark pleaded. His blue eyes were shining in a way that made you melt. It was hard to say no to Clark Kent.
That was how you ended up as Clarkâs date. That was how you ended up meeting your first ex in college. A fratboy of all people but he won you over with his sense of humor and charming smile. That was how you ended up with the most devastating heartbreak with a breakup that lasted all of one second over a text.
That was how you ended up swearing off relationships forever.
That was how you ended up in Clark Kentâs bed the summer you graduated college. One time turned to two turned to fucking on the kitchen counter while the others were asleep upstairs on your groupâs annual trip. This âsummer flingâ became a recurring, annual rendezvous. As long as the two of you were single, you somehow always ended up in each otherâs beds â or any other viable surfaces.
However, what was made very clear from the very beginning was that you were not looking for a serious relationship whatsoever. The last thing you needed was to get your heart broken again when you promised to focus on your career.
So this arrangement works.
Youâre brought out of your reverie when a knock sounds on your door. Clark pops his head in, curls damp and glasses sliding down his nose again. Heâs a little pink when he catches you midway through changing into a comfy t-shirt. A smirk curls on your lips. Even after seeing you naked all this time and talking like a fucking porn star during sex, Clark still blushes whenever he unintentionally catches you in a⊠compromising position.
âUm, ma wanted me to tell you to come down whenever youâre ready. We usually eat dinner as a family. If thatâs okay with you.â
You finish shoving your arms through your shirt before bending down to reach for a pair of shorts. You hear the hitch of his breath behind you. Smirking, you slowly roll yourself back up. âLike what you see, Kent?â
âDonât tempt me,â he grumbles under his breath. Your eyes fall to his sweats where heâs currently adjusting his not-so-little problem. âI can be quick. And quiet. If you want to.â
A laugh rises from your chest. âKeep it in your pants. I donât want to be late for my first dinner with your parents.â
With a slightly disappointed sigh, he nods and guides you downstairs.
Dinner is as you expected â delicious food with a side of chaos. While Clarkâs dad keeps mostly to himself, nodding along to whatever his wife is saying or whispering with Clark, his mother peppers you with endless questions about your life, your job, and your relationship with her children. âIâm so sorry weâre only meeting now! I hear so much about you from both of them. Itâs such a shame.â
âI hope Kara only has good things to say,â you tease.
âOh, Kara adores you but Clark also wonât stop talking about you.â
That catches you by surprise and you shift your attention to Clark with a curious look. âIs that so?â
Thereâs that pink again. Endearingly embarrassed. âOh, yes,â his mom gushes, âtells me all the time what a sweetheart you are and how smart you are, how he enjoys watchââ
âMa, how about some more mashed potatoes, hm?â Clark distracts her, offering a massive dollop of her potatoes. âHow about you tell me whatâs going on with the kitchen sink? Thought you wanted me to take a look.â
His mother is successfully distracted when she instead begins to fuss over everything wrong with the farmhouse. His father tries to reassure Clark that heâs got it under control and that he should just enjoy his vacation. Clark only nods along, partially listening. You know the look he has when part of his mind is far away from the conversation.
You canât help but wonder what his mom was going to say.
After dinner, you insist that his parents get some rest while you and Clark do the dishes. Itâs a back and forth for a bit, debating on whether guests should be doing chores, debating on whether youâre guests at all. Thankfully, you win when Clark manages to urge them out of the kitchen. Unfortunately, Clark is the actual winner when he also pushes you out of there for you to get cleaned up
You do a full scrubdown, washing away all the grease from the flight. The water is warm on your skin, much needed after a long day. You almost slide yourself into Karaâs mattress to sleep when you realize Clark missed one part of his tour.
So you tiptoe down the hall, careful not to wake the Kents with the creaking beneath your footsteps as you sneak into Clarkâs room, closing the door behind you.
He has a towel wrapped around his waist, chiseled, bare chest on full display, as he frowns at his phone. He looks up, fumbling with the device when he sees you. His arms quickly go to cover his stomach and his legs, as if heâs at risk of exposing an ankle to a Victorian lady.
You roll your eyes. He clears his throat. âWhatâre you doing here?â
âYou never showed me your room, I wanted to see if you had anything embarrassing in here. Like Superman plushies or something. Or your old porn collection. Maybe a Playboy or two.â
âI donât⊠have any of those,â Clark says, pink to his ears.
âSure, youâre telling me if I look in that drawer over there that I wonât find a couple of risque magazines?â You begin drifting in that direction and Clark is immediately in your path. Youâre face-to-face with his pecs.
âTake my word for it.â
Sighing, you cave and instead wander around the rest of the room. Itâs a quaint room. Small bed that youâre not even sure would fit him. Two small bookshelves with some reference volumes and novels youâve heard him talk about before. Giant poster of the Mighty Crabjoys who Clark insists is very punk rock. Then there are a few trophies for a spelling bee, debate club, and a science fair â none for his athleticism, because you know for sure Clark would never use his gifted powers for selfish purposes. His desk has an ancient monitor that looks like a stack of brick and more books â comic books, more novels, and CDs (no doubt of the Mighty Crabjoys).
Itâs simple and sweet. Kind of like him.
While youâre busy absorbing every inch of his bedroom, Clark has crept up behind you. His arms wind around your waist, lips pasting on your neck. You instinctively tilt your head, a moan bubbling up your throat. âClark, your parents are down the hall,â you murmur.
âI can be quiet. Iâll make sure you are too,â he whispers as his hands begin to wander. One to cover your mouth and the other going between your legs. âIâll make you feel good, honey.â
And that he does.
Your second day in Smallville starts off early. And warm. Incredibly, horribly warm. Your eyes flutter open to the wide expanse of creamy skin. Creamy skin on a very, very wide chest. Grunting, you try to push against him, to get his hefty arm off you, but he doesnât even budge.
Clark grumbles quietly, tucking you deeper into his chest. âSleep.â
âClark,â you whisper-yell, âcome on. I gotta get back to the room.â
âYouâre already in a room,â he mumbles.
You peek up only to find him still with his eyes closed. âYour parentsââ
As if on cue, your worst nightmare plays out in real time. You hear the creak first. You try not to panic, praying that itâs someone walking away from the door rather than towards it. But then you hear the knob twist. You feel Clark stiffen in real time, his entire body going taut like a board as his eyes slam open. The two of you donât move fast enough; in fact, your legs are still tangled together when the door swings inwards.
âClark, honeyââ his momâs words die out, undoubtedly when her eyes land on not one but two bodies in the very tiny bed that barely fits her son. Clark holds you in closer, tugging the blanket higher to cover your bare back. Your shirt is abandoned somewhere in the room â along with your underwear that hopefully isnât visible to his poor motherâs eyes. Thankfully, youâre not facing the door, so you donât have to subject yourself to whatever disappointed face sheâs making. âWhat in theââ
âMa! Why didnât you knock first?â Clark coughs, sliding up only to bury you deeper under the blanket.
âWell, I wasnât expecting you to have company at this hour, Clark.â Thereâs a sternness to her words that sends shivers snaking up your spine.
Not even a full twenty-four hours and youâve managed to ruin your entire reputation with his mom. But if you could just explain this, then maybeâ
âWeâre engaged, Ma. Alright. Weâre engaged!â
What the ever-loving fuckâ
âEngaged?â Her tone has shifted significantly, delight clinging to every letter. âOh my, oh goodness, what wonderful news! I want to say I didnât see it coming but I did! My boy did talk about you all the time so itâs not much of a surprise.â
âI do not, Ma,â Clark retorts quickly.
She barely pays him any mind. âI have to tell your pa. This is exciting news! My first son! Engaged!â Then sheâs scampering out of the room and Clark can only call out, âIâm your only son, Ma!â
The moment sheâs out of earshot, your hands immediately fly.
âOw! Ow! Stop that! Come on, stop it!â Clark flinches as you continue to barrage him with smacks from all angles. Not that it actually hurts. His hands immediately whip out to pin you down, his body hovering over yours. Your chest rises with every heaving breath while Clark just frowns at you, probably concerned that youâve hurt yourself in your fruitless attempt to hurt him. âAre you done?â
Even in this situation, you can feel that familiar heat stirring between your legs. Clarkâs handsome face above you, his one hand pinning you down, the other one on your hip, his stupid, big, beefy chest in front of your face. You hate it.
Unfortunately, this means Clark picks up on your heartbeat, the way your blood rushes beneath your skin at the sight of him.
His lips tip up. âGood?â
âWhy in the hell would you tell your mom that weâre engaged?â
âI love my ma. Wonderful woman. Loves everyone dearly. Love is love, she believes in. Sheâs all about love.â
âSo you tell her weâre engaged?"
Clark sighs, âEven with all that, she is very much still an old-fashioned woman from the Midwest. She would not approve of me⊠bedding a woman outside of wedlock. She would never forgive me if she knew what Iâve been doing.â
Or who heâs been doing â you.
âOh my god, Clark.â
âIâm sorry!â
âBecause you donât want your mom to know that you stick our dick inside girls before marriage, you drag me into this and act like weâre getting married?â
Clark frowns, lips pinching together disapprovingly. âGirl. One girl. You. And yes, I panicked, Iâm sorry. Itâll just be for this trip, alright. Weâll⊠explain it all away after.â
Another protest sits on the tip of your tongue, but the look on his face reduces you into a puddle. A puddle that molds according to whatever container Clark pours you into.Â
âFine, okay, but what are we going to tell Kara? Or Lois and Jimmy when they arrive?â
He opens his mouth then promptly closes it. Thought so.
âWe should think fast because I know for a fact Karaâs supposed to come in anytime nowââ
Then you hear the screech, followed by the hurried footsteps, followed by the door once again banging open against the wall with the brute force of her strength. Youâre surprised itâs still on its hinges.
And there she is.
âWhat the hell, dude? Youâre engaged to him?â
Clark gives the two of you some space; that is, after he kicks Kara out long enough for the two of you to be decent.
This is the first time the two of you have ever woken up together.
In the years youâve slept together, the countless nights youâve spent in a pile of messy limbs, this is the first time.
The awkwardness that follows hangs heavy in the air.
âIâll, um, Iâll give you time with Kara. Iâm going to calm my parents down first, tell them not to overwhelm you. Iâll see you later?â
He says it like a question, like he isnât sure if you would even see him again after this incident. And you know that itâs mainly his fault but you shouldâve also been more careful. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you snuck in, you knew what you were looking for when you went to find him last night.
âYes, Clark, Iâll see you later.â
Mild relief sinks into his features as he nods and exits the room.
It takes a bit of time to get Kara to stop hyperventilating or talking for even a second for you to get a word in. Sheâs still reeling at the fact that she saw her best friend and her brother in bed. Together. Naked. She may have also attempted to rinse her eyes with bleach.
After talking her off the ledge, you finally give her the basic answers.
âYes, Iâve been fucking your brother.â
âNo, weâre not dating.â
âNo, Kara, how would we be actually engaged if we werenât dating?â
Lois and Jimmy arrive shortly after and you thankfully get some reprieve from Clark when he goes to pick them up. Fortunately, Clark gives them the quick SparkNotes version of what transpired this morning. Unfortunately, you have to do the full run-down to once again emphasize that you are not actually engaged to Clark Kent.Â
Dinner is only an awkward affair for the people in the know. Clarkâs parents remain blissfully ignorant, instead focusing on gushing about how thrilled they are that Clark has found somebody.
âYouâre the first girl heâs ever brought home. Itâs only right that youâre his fiancĂ©e! Now, I want to hear it from both of you â when did this all start? How did you know you were in love?â
Kara chokes on her chicken. Lois and Jimmy share wary looks. You shoot her a dirty look. Clark coughs, eyes sliding over to you for a nanosecond before returning to his mom. âLove at first sight when I saw her that first time.â Clark should be an actor, he sounds terribly convincing.
All you can say is âsame.â
Clark kicks you under the table and you have to swallow your yelp. A dirty glare his way does nothing to deter him when he gives you a look that insists you give his mom an âactualâ answer.Â
You wrack your brain. Beyond the good sex, Clark has mostly existed in your periphery. Heâs Karaâs brother. Loisâ best friend. Jimmyâs partner in crime.
But heâs always been just Clark to you.
You just happened to be smart enough to put two and two together on him and Big Blue and, for some reason, that brought you closer.Â
But if you were to pick a point in which you could were to fall for Clark Kent, it would be that.
âI think it was around the same time. A first year was struggling through orientation week. First week jitters. Clark was an orientation leader at the time. He didnât have to but he stuck with that kid almost that entire week. Saw him invite the kid to join for lunches with his friends, encourage him to make friends. It was sweet.â
Mrs. Kent looks absolutely awed. She whispers about how endearing that is.
However, all you can feel is the weight of Clarkâs gaze on you. Steady, heavy. You risk a glance up.Â
His eyes are soft, a little misty if you squint. Lips with a slight up curve.Â
âI donât know if I remember you back then.â
Heat kisses your cheeks. âThat was before we were introduced.â
âYou knew me?â
âHard for you to not stand out as a six-foot non-football player.âÂ
Clark chuckles.
âThatâs so very romantic, dear. Iâm so glad to hear,â his mom coos, ânow all of you off to bed. Itâs been quite a day, hasnât it? So much good news! And you two should stay together â future newlyweds!â
You choke the same time Kara protests. âBut sheâs rooming with me!â
Needless to say, Kara doesnât win this fight and, while Lois gives you a sympathetic look as she enters Karaâs room, youâre suddenly being shoved back into Clarkâs room. The same room that got you into this mess to begin with.Â
âClark, we need to get our stories straight if we want to be convincing.âÂ
âHmm, sure.â
âWe need to talk about when we started dating and when you proposed â not to mention how you proposed! And the details matter, you know, so we shouldâ are you even listening?â
Clark hums again, clearly not listening. âSure, yeah. We should talk about it.â
Heâs taking one step towards you then another and another until the back of your knees hit the bed. âClark,â you warn, âtalk.â
He ducks his head, brushing his lips against yours. His proximity is intoxicating. What were you saying again? Something about talking.
âFell in love with me before you even knew me, huh? Thatâs cute,â he murmurs in a breath that you sharply inhale.Â
You bite back your embarrassment. âItâs just a story.â
âBut youââ kiss âânoticedââ kiss ââme.âÂ
âIt was just, um, I was only, mmm, answeringâŠâ Your words trail off as Clark navigates his mouth south along your neck, laying you down on his bed, as he drops to his knees, hands parting your legs. âClark, we needâ ah.â
âDid so good today, honey,â Clark mutters, pressing wet kisses up your bare inner thigh. His teeth nip at your skin. âNow, let me take good care of you tonight.â
Your body is still sore and tingling when you wake up the next morning. When you stretch your hand over, you find the other side of the bed cool.Â
You pad out through the creaky front door to find three of your friends enjoying the crisp, unpolluted air of Smallville with cups of coffee, ones that Lois doesnât have to douse with a whole can of sugar. Clark is still nowhere to be seen.Â
âGood morning, sunshine,â Kara yawns.Â
âMorning,â you mumble quietly. âHas anyone seen Clark?â
âHeâs helping out at the barn,â Lois answers first, eyeing you with a strange twinkle in her eye. âBetter yet, how about you tell us how long you and Clark plan on being engaged? Are we invited to the wedding?â
You give her a look. âIf I ever get married, please know Iâve been kidnapped and cloned.â
âIs it really so bad?â
Cocking an eyebrow at her, you ask, âYou of all people are saying that? Miss Independent?â
âHey, I am voluntarily a solitary creature.â
âThatâs because she bites the head off anyone who tries to approach her,â Jimmy chimes in, then turns back to you, âClarkâs not a bad pick. You know, if you were to get married.â
âNo, heâs not,â you mutter â and itâs a truth that just slips out.Â
When you look up, Karaâs got her eyes narrowed at you but Lois â sheâs got a curious yet strangely warm look in her gaze. Itâs not an expression that you expect to see from her.Â
And Jimmy, well, heâs still half dizzy over the fact that you and Clark are fucking.Â
âI need to talk to him, we need to get our stories straight,â you clear your throat, glance wandering over to the barn some distance away.Â
âYou guys still havenât discussed that?â
âNo, I tried talking to him last night but we gotââ The ghost of Clarkâs curls between your legs, soft strands tickling your inner thighs. The hot, wet drag of his tongue between your folds. His muffled moans, nose glistening.
âYou taste like nectar from the gods.â
âI donât wanna know!â Kara yelps, slapping her hands over her ears. âI see your face and I donât wanna hear it. While I enjoy hearing about your sexual encounters, I donât want to hear about my brotherâs.â
You cough again, ignoring the warmth thatâs flooded your cheeks. âRight, anyway, Iâll go look for him.âÂ
While youâve never experienced country living, you imagine this is close to what itâs like. The unappetizing aroma of manure, the constant croaking of nature, and the sight of Clark Kent in overalls.
Nothing but overalls.Â
Shining golden skin. Not a single drop of sweat. Curls mussed up only from the heat, but his breathing is stable even as he lifts bags of soil on his shoulder. Hundreds of pounds. Biceps flexing, veins taut.Â
Fuck.
âYouâre awake,â he brightens when he sees you, dropping the bags off to the side. âHowâd you sleep?â
Your brain short-circuits when he dusts his hands off. Now that there are no bags in the way, you can see everything. Broad, round shoulders. The curves of his arms. Lines running down the length of his forearm, you can practically taste the texture on your tongue. When his overalls shift just right, you get a glimpse of his dusky nipple that youâre desperately needing to wrap your lips around.Â
All you can picture is how good it would be to put your hands on his shoulders, bolstering you up while he presses up against you.Â
âYouâre thinking what Iâm thinking.âÂ
Clarkâs in front of you. His fingers curving around the back of your neck, thumb on your jaw to tilt your face up. His usually bright blue eyes are dark, pupils swallowing his irises.Â
âWe shouldââ your breath hitches as his thumb goes down, pressing down on your pulse point on your neck. It jumps. You know he feels it.
âI can hear your heart racing,â Clark murmurs. âI like hearing it. I like knowing what you like â and you like my hand on you.â
âClark, please,â you rasp.Â
âWhat do you need?âÂ
âYou.â
âHow do you want me?â
You swallow, the image so vivid in your mind, like itâs a memory. âHolding me up.â You barely get the words out when Clark wrangles your legs around him, holding you up firmly with one arm as his other hand touches your cheek.Â
âWhat now?â
âI want you. Inside.â
âI can do that,â he smiles, leaning down to suckle lightly on your neck. âAnything else?â
âMust I tell you everything?â You grunt.
âI know what you want. I just like hearing you ask for it.â
With your lips pursed in defiance, you cross your arms over your chest. âIf you ask me one more timeââÂ
A yelp is wrenched from your throat when he finally (finally) brushes his thumb over your sensitive nipple peaking through the thin cotton of your shirt.
He gropes you gently, somehow manhandling you in a way that makes you feel desirable rather than disgusting. His blue eyes are shadowed, drinking in the way you shiver with every tug, every pinch.
âSo beautiful,â he murmurs to the wind.Â
Clark tugs the shirt over your head, leaving you completely topless. Your arms immediately wind around your body in embarrassment, but he moves faster to extract them and deliver you a chiding look.
Youâre sheepish when you tell him, âSomeone might see us.â
âMhmm, let them. Iâm taking care of my fiancĂ©e.â His lips tug into an amused smirk when you roll your eyes. âDonât be a brat.â
âPlease, you like brats.â
âYou know me so well.â
He dives forward and takes your tits into your mouth, showering them with cautious but delicious attention. His tongue is hot on your skin. You throw your head back as he drags his lips across your neck.Â
With swift hands, your shorts join your shirt in the pile of hay and Clark has unbuttoned his overalls to fall at his hips. His mouth stays on you the entire time â sweet and spicy at the same time.Â
Greedy hands lift you slightly higher, only to position you right above his straining cock. The vein in his neck jumps as he grits his teeth.
Clark eases you onto his cock, moving you up and down along his length like a toy, like youâre his personal fleshlight. Your pussy stretches around him, soaking his cock until youâre a whining mess.Â
ââM gonna need you to keep it down,â he grunts quietly, neck flushed red as he bites down his own moan.Â
On cue, and as if to prove a point, a moan crawls up your throat. Clarkâs hand flies up to slap over your face. Large palm over your mouth, your eyes wide at him. A whimper slides up your throat at the stern, scolding expression on his face.Â
âHoney, what did I just say?â
Your pussy clenches around him. His words are almost demeaning, but the gentleness with which they are delivered has you shivering and melting into his touch. âS-sorry,â you stutter pathetically, âIâm sorry.â
âI know,â he whispers, âI know, but I need you to be quiet, okay. I donât need my parents coming out and seeing us like this. They might make us marry on the spot.â
Heat spreads throughout every nerve in your body at his comment. Itâs a joke, you know it is, but the idea of Clark claiming you as his with his cock buried inside you, painting you in bridal white inside out, has you tightening around him.Â
âIs that what you want?â Clark murmurs softly, his blue eyes twinkle with the kind of mischief that has your fingers tingling.Â
âNo,â you scoff a little too quickly.
âCould put you in a dress. Marry you in this barn right now. Afterwards, Iâll take you outside against the walls while my familyâs in here celebrating us. Weâll consummate our marriage.â
The image is painted so vividly in the back of your mind. You in a simple dress, hiked up, Clark fucking you into oblivion against the walls outside. Good god.Â
âI can feel her tightening around me, honey,â Clark chuckles. âShe likes the idea.â
âStop being silly,â you clear your throat, âyou gonna fuck me properly or what?â
He mutters something about your mouth before fucking you in earnest once more. His thrusts are sloppy but no less powerful, his desire leaks through his stuttered hips, the uneven staccato of his breaths.Â
Pleasure builds and twists, coiling tight inside your stomach as Clarkâs grip remains firm on you. Moans continue to pour from your lips like prayers to the god before you. He slides his hand up your throat again, squeezing gently, before bypassing it and covering your mouth once more.Â
âGonna need you to keep quiet, okay. I love hearing your pretty moans but I canât share that with anyone else. Canât have my parents coming out here and seeing you like this. I canât have them thinking youâre a filthy little minx, spreading your legs for me anytime, anywhere.â
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as another groan chases your tongue. His name is muffled behind his hand and you gasp for breath when Clark gives you some room to inhale.
âShe feels so good around me. So tight. Sheâs been waiting for me all morning. Greedy thing, isnât she? Fed her so much last night and she still wants more.â
âC-Clark, please. Shit. Oh fuck.â
âSo good to me. I have so much to give her, she knows that, doesnât she? Thatâs why you came looking for me. Wanted one more time even after last night. Maybe Iâll taste myself on you later.â
Jesus Christ. This man has a way of making you picture the most deliciously repulsive images in your mind. Him cumming inside you, his face between your legs, licking you clean until thereâs no trace of him left. Maybe even coming back up and kissing you. The taste of him tangled in your tongues.
Clarkâs hands tighten. His grunts shorten. His pleas desperate.
Before long, youâre coming apart in his hands, Clark tightens his hold around your jaw to muffle the sound of your cries as he spills inside you. He buries his own moans into your neck as he presses you deeper against the wooden beam. With how hard he fucked you, youâre surprised this barn is still standing. You had felt the pillar rattling behind you.
He huffs a breath before leaning backwards. His hand reaches up to brush away the sweat-dampened strands of your hair from your face. âAre you okay? Did I go too hard?â
Even after years of this arrangement, Clark is always so careful. You know he holds back his strength when heâs screwing your brains out. He could go a lot harder and sometimes you wonder what it would feel like for his patience to snap, for him to fuck you with no abandon.Â
You donât think youâll survive that.
But you also think you would deliriously enjoy that.Â
âWhatâre you thinking about?â Clark murmurs, âDid I hurt you?â
âNo,â you swiftly say, âjustâ nothing.â Warmth floods your cheeks again. Youâve only just finished getting your brains turned to mush and here you are thinking about how much harder he could go.Â
âYouâre thinking about something.â
âIâm thinking how we should really get our stories straight.â
Clark regards you thoughtfully, a contemplative expression carved into the creases on his forehead. Then he presses into you more, cock pushing back in. You can hear the squish of his cum inside you, an indecent little sound in the quiet of the morning.Â
âOkay, do you wanna talk now?â
âClark,â you deadpan.
âWhat?â
Your cheeks are hot again. âObviously not like this.âÂ
âAlright, later then.â
Clark doesnât look the least bit remorseful, lips stretched into a wide grin. Heâs much too gleeful for a man whoâs foiled your plans to be responsible again â with his dick.Â
âLetâs get you cleaned up.â
Instead of spending the day puttering around the farm and watching Clark do manual labor in nothing but overalls (which isnât necessarily the worst way to kill time), the Kents propose going to the fair thatâs in town.
Clark insists that his parents could use his help while heâs around.
They insist that he should spend time with his fiancée.
The five of you pile into Clarkâs truck; to avoid suspicion, you ride up front with him, throwing his parents a tight smile as you wave at them as the car treks down the dirt path. The three of them are bickering about something related to agriculture in the backseat while you â you find yourself once again distracted by Clark who looks far too good driving.
Sometimes, you think you need to get your brain rewired for being too easily stimulated by the sight of him. Itâs like your brain is wired to tune into him, to every little detail from the way his eyes crinkle, how his lips pucker when he whistles, or that one vein along his arm that jumps every time he turns the wheel.
Your plan backfires when you stare at him a little too long, trying to think of how you could get the two of you to talk to get your stories aligned, and Clark ends up noticing how your eyes never stray too far from him. The corners of his lips tip up, pleased, then his free hand slides over your thigh once more.
It doesnât do anything. It just stays there. A grounding presence.
The back of your neck warms and you blame it on the mid-morning sun.
The fair is nothing too crazy, you didnât expect anything grand from a small town near Smallville. Itâs more like a community event, with faces familiar to the Kents dotting the crowd. A small market lines the entry area, selling all sorts of trinkets and knick-knacks. Clark bumps your shoulder with his arm as you walk down the path.
âDonât you like those things? You wanna take a look?â
You cock an eyebrow. âI do like them, how do you know that?â
âI see them all over your apartment,â he shrugs, âespecially the flowery-looking ones.â Youâve started collecting miniature toys and figurines with flowers on them. Since you canât seem to keep plants alive, your little addiction to buying the most useless pieces of paperweight is fulfilled by the replacement of real live decor.
âOh. Yes, well, I have too many now so I donât think I should even look at them. Otherwise, Iâll be tempted to buy.â
Beyond that, the fair opens up to game booths â your classic ring toss, darts, and shooting a water ducky â and attractions like pony riding, a petting zoo, and so on and so forth. Itâs cute. Itâs quaint. Nothing like what you see in the big cities. In fact, big cities have no carnivals like these. So maybe youâre a teensy bit excited.Â
âWanna play?â Clark smiles at the obvious enthusiasm on your face.Â
Before you can answer, a shrill voice calls out to Clark. Well, itâs not really shrill, it actually sounds rather sweet â like the tinkling of bells â but you see the source of that sound and you feel an irritating itch in your chest.
âWillow! I havenât seen you in a while.â
Oh, so he knows her. That ugly part inside of you wonders if he also has the same arrangement with her. But no, she seems nice. Like the girl next door. The kind of girl you marry â and not with a fake engagement.Â
They chat for a little bit and youâre on the sidelines watching them. Kara nudges you by your side. âWeâre going to try the dunk tank. Jimmy has agreed to be dunked as long as we can aim. Wanna come?â
Your gaze flicks over to Clark for a second but find that heâs still eagerly chatting with this girl, so you put on your biggest smile and turn back to your best friend.Â
âLetâs do it.â
The four of you busy yourselves with the various games. Lois manages to dunk Jimmy four times. Jimmy then proceeds to win a free t-shirt to change into from the ring toss. Kara absolutely destroys Lois at basketball and you absolutely annihilate all of them at darts (pub nights are coming in handy after all).Â
Youâre having a great time â a wonderful time â until you realize that Clark still hasnât caught up. Every time you look over in search of him, heâs there helping a new person. First, itâs the old lady with her bags of groceries. Then itâs the little boy with his cat in the tree. Next, itâs the farmer who needs to unload his van of dozens of boxes.Â
And then itâs that girl â Willow, was it? â who is apparently a florist and is setting up the most beautiful little booth in the market.Â
Itâs thoughtful, itâs kind. Thatâs who Clark is. But then you see him laughing and smiling and just being Clark and all you can feel is pissed. Heâs here for you â all of you â so why is he busying himself with others? Itâs incredibly selfish and guilt gnaws at your chest.Â
So you bite down that terrible feeling and instead focus on the others. Youâre fine with this. Itâs not as if you have anything with Clark, really. Youâre friends who happen to fuck every summer. Thatâs all.Â
Maybe Clark is simply looking for something more long-term.
Your eyes wander to Lois. Youâve always thought that they would be a thing. Two incredibly smart people who work together, who have great chemistry. You know that Clark respects and adores her deeply, as evidenced by how much he talks about her. It seemed to be a matter of time.
Your anger doesnât ease. Instead, you channel that rage into this shooting game. Clark has only just shown up, standing next to Kara with his gaze on you, a dopey smile in place.Â
You hit the target dead center again and again and again.Â
âThatâs the first time today! Youâve got quite the skills, miss.â The guy at the booth says, both impressed and terrified. âYou can pick any prize you want from the top.â
Clark whistles with his fingers and grins. âGood job, that was incredible.â
You hate yourself for immediately blooming with excitement at the compliment, especially when heâs left this group to tend to other people. How pathetic can you be?
The next words out of your mouth are not your best moment.Â
âWell, seeing as my fiancĂ© is too busy to get me anything.â
You can see the moment your jab lands and the smile wipes off his face, replaced by a look of sheer surprise. You turn on your heel and make your way to the next game, teddy bear tucked safely in your arms.
Itâs not that youâre immature. Youâre not. Youâre an adult. But it doesnât mean that you canât be a teensy bit petty.
Every time Clark tries to come close to you, youâre linking arms with Kara and traipsing off. When he calls your name, you pretend not to hear by cheering for Lois as she slams a hammer down on a strength-based game.Â
Itâs an exhausting endeavor and youâre this close to giving up. Plus, the heat isnât exactly letting up and youâre starting to feel a little woozy.Â
So when Clark approaches you again, you almost cave and lean on his broad frame for support.
âHungry?â He asks carefully as his long legs finally catch up to you alone.
Your stubbornness nearly denies him once more but your stomach wins out when it growls. Loud.Â
Clark doesnât tease you; he simply takes your hand and whisks you away to the little makeshift food court. He sits you down and begins going from stall to stall, collecting one dish after another until youâve got a spread in front of you.
Itâs all your favorite things â or similar ones that he thinks youâll enjoy; he would be right.
Youâre too busy stuffing your face to notice Clark wringing his fingers in front of you, fidgeting as he tries to get your attention.Â
âWhat?â You finally ask when you peer up after his nth time repositioning himself, shrinking so he would be in your line of sight.Â
âCan you tell me why youâre sulking?â
âIâm not sulking.â
He gives you a look.Â
âIâm not! I donât care who you spend your time with.â
âWho?â Clark perks up, irises bright with curiosity.
Shit. You and your big mouth. Now youâve gone ahead and given away too much, so you clamp your lips shut and shake your head. You shut down his every attempt to pry by focusing on eating instead.
He only seems to relent when he thinks heâs pushed hard enough, but, knowing Clark, he isnât going to let the matter slide so easily.Â
You continue your day unscathed for the most part. You cling close to Kara who doesnât seem to mind that youâre sticking to her instead of her brother. Of course, she shoots you questioning looks but the shake of your head prevents her from pushing.Â
Youâre in the middle of cheering for Lois and Kara when a cloud of pink appears before you. You blink at it before you trace back the source of the dessert. Unsurprisingly, Clark stands at the other end of the cotton candy.
âYou like this, donât you?â
You mentioned once that youâve always liked cotton candies. Itâs all sugar, but that childish part in you relishes the way the fluffy treat melts on your tongue.Â
âI do, thank you,â you confirm, ripping apart a piece before popping it in your mouth. The strands dissolve into syrup on your tongue.
Clark looks at you expectantly, a tinge of anxiety in the slight fold of his brows. âGood?â
âGood,â you smile at him.
Perhaps youâve been too hard on him today. Heâs being a good neighbor and youâre giving him shit for talking to someone else.
The two of you arenât exclusive. Thatâs the whole point of this arrangement. If he happened to find someone that he wants to actually date seriously, then youâd let him go.Â
Somehow, the thought makes your stomach churn.Â
âI got you something else.â
You look up at him and he digs around in his shirt pocket and pulls out a thin silver band. A crystal sits in the middle of it, sparkling no less brightly than a diamond. Itâs simple, itâs sweet. Itâs characteristically you.Â
âItâs nothing extravagant but you wear silver jewelry, right? I think this should fit.â Then Clark is taking your left hand and sliding the promise over your ring finger. The band sits perfectly snug. The crystal catches light and twinkles like itâs winking at you.Â
For all your pouting, Clark seems to know the perfect remedy.Â
âJust, you know, until the trip is over,â he adds nervously. âIf thatâs okay with you.â
You bring your hand up, watching as the ring glimmers underneath the afternoon sun. Your lips tip up in a small smile.Â
âYeah, thatâs okay with me.â
âAnd, if itâs any reassurance,â Clark adds, quieter, low enough that the others canât hear â eyes trained solely on you, sharp and honest, âI only have eyes for you.â
Your heart beats against your ribs. Heat frames your face at the same time he smiles softly at you.Â
You donât respond, but thatâs answer enough.
The chill beneath your fingertips rouses you from sleep. When your eyes flutter open, Clarkâs big, warm body is nowhere to be found. You remember falling asleep cuddled up to a living, breathing heater and now youâre shivering as you tug on an extra sweater. Your footsteps are quiet as you pad out into the hallway in search of him, navigating through the darkness until your eyes land on him, bathed in the moonlight on the bench outside.
Clark turns before the door even swings open. He mustâve heard you.
âYouâre up early â or late,â he notes.
âSo are you, whatâre you doing awake?â
âCouldnât really sleep, you?â
âMustâve been all the cotton candy,â you say as you slide into the seat next to him.
The midnight air in Smallville is brisk, youâre beginning to regret not throwing on an extra layer. Clark senses your shivers and immediately scooches closer towards you, draping his flannel over your shoulders and tucking you in close. The draw of his warmth is too tempting to resist and you end up nuzzling into his shoulder.
âCouldâve stayed inside,â you flag quietly.
âThe fresh air helps me think. Plus, itâs nice to take advantage of this away from Metropolis. Breathing in fumes doesnât seem conducive to my health.â
âGood thing your only weakness is extinct,â you tease, bumping shoulders gently.
Clark smiles at you, soft and knowing. âItâs not my only weakness.â
You raise an eyebrow but he doesnât elaborate, so you donât press. Instead, you ask him whatâs plaguing his mind.
âMy parents,â he begins, âI worry about them. Theyâre getting older, things with the farm arenât easy and weâre not in a position to hire any extra hands.â He takes a deep breath. âIâm thinking if I should move back.â
Your heart plummets, all amusement evaporating. You donât know why youâre so disappointed by the thought. Although you donât live in Metropolis, although you donât see Clark very often, youâre only a city away, and even then, he still feels light-years away. âMove back?â
âHere to Smallville. Iâm not sure yet.â
Your throat is tight when you attempt a joke, âWhat? And leave your fiancĂ©e behind?â
Clarkâs lips curl. âNever. Iâll take you with me.â
Oh. Your chest warms. âWhat makes you think Iâd go with you?â
âIâd just have to convince you,â he whispers, tilting his head to press his forehead against yours. His next words are soft, but they have your heart pressing against your ribcage. âAnd I can be very persuasive.â
A giggle falls from your lips. Clark shrinks himself, bending himself at a slightly odd angle to accommodate your height as you lean your head on his shoulder. The quiet moon is company you donât want to humor tonight and Clark seems to agree when he rises to his feet and offers his hand.
The two of you drift back into his bedroom. Light still spills across his hardwood floors that whine below his heavy footfalls. But Clark shields you from the stark brightness, engulfing you in a comfortable night against his chest.
When you tip your face up, heâs already looking down at you. For a moment, he only searches your eyes. Looking for something youâre not sure you can provide.
However, he seems to find whatever it is he wanted when he leans down and slides his mouth over yours.
The kiss is soft. Slow. None of the usual heat and messiness that leads to hours of tangled legs and sweaty limbs. This one is patient, itâs kind. Clark tastes like tea and sugar, the kind of concoction that lulls you slowly back to sleep.
Before your consciousness slips away again, Clark murmurs a promise of sweet dreams.
You think you may already have that.
This farmlife experience is much more taxing than you expect. Hours of Harvest Moon on your old game consoles do nothing to prepare you for the ache between your fingers and the soreness of your shoulders. However, you suck it up and keep going because thereâs no greater sight than Clark who delights in showing you the ropes.
Youâve fought off chickens all morning to feed them and take their eggs for breakfast. Youâve milked cows, delicate fingers wrapped around the hefty udders until you fill a whole pail. Youâre grooming the horses and trying not to get your hair chewed out.
Again, itâs all worth it when you see Clark beam at you like the morning sun.
His eyes also keep wandering to your finger where he has already pointed out â âYouâre wearing the ring.â
You blame the fever on your neck on the sun thatâs barely risen. âI thought it would be best to wear it so your parents donât get suspicious.â
The two of you do end up talking, agreeing on points in time that align for your supposed romantic development. It isnât a hard task, not when you actually do remember those moments when you felt your strongest attraction towards Clark. The first time you slept together was redesigned as your first date. The arrangement of your⊠arrangement was reconfigured into a conversation about official labels.
Clark is close to your side, arms brushing as the two of you make your way back to the house. The basket of eggs hangs from Clarkâs hand as his other one shifts to the small of your back â it hovers, present, but doesnât touch.
Heâs telling you a story from his days of youth and youâre throwing your head back in laughter. The emotions come easy here â honest in the early hours of dawn when itâs only you and him.
When you arrive at the house, you two spot Lois already nursing a steaming coffee mug in her hands. Her eyes dart between the two of you carefully, curious â almost calculating. Her lips quirk upwards at the sight and youâre almost shy by her response.
Unfortunately, Clarkâs reaction has you stiffening. He clears his throat and takes a step out to the side. Away from you. Distance. You try not to let your hurt show but it feels as if thereâs a giant stone sitting in the pit of your stomach thatâs weighing you down, slowing your steps.
âWhatâs going on?â Clark asks, brows puckered.
Itâs your turn to regard the two of them. Clark has always been comfortable with Lois. Karaâs teased him before for having a crush on her; perhaps that feeling still lingers. Worse yet, perhaps those feelings have only strengthened.
Once again, you reckon with the fact that Clark Kent is not yours. You have no right to be jealous, to feel possessive over a man who doesnât belong to you. You were the one who put your foot down and swore off any actual romantic relationships, and Clark was never an exception.
If Clark wanted Lois â and if, by some luck, Lois wanted Clark back, who were you to stand in the way of true love?
So you force a smile and shake your head. âNothing. Iâm going to get cleaned up. Iâll see you later.â
âWaitââ
But youâre already turning on your heel and heading back inside the house.
+ sam: tumblr hit me with the block limit for the full fic so i figured this is a good separation point while i edit the second half!! happy ending i promise <33
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Shoko whoâs the head of the medical department down at JAXAâand youâre the gorgeous, capable astronaut about to head into your next mission. So elegant in zero gravity, but bumbling around when it comes to her. Shoko who has you come over every few days for every little scratch, bump, and dizziness after your pre-mission training. Even the slightest nausea, youâre down in her office and whining that perhaps if you Iaid your head in her Iap then maybe itâll soIve itself outâŠit does and she rolls her eyes fondly. Shoko who watches with her stomach in knots as your spaceship finally takes off - and the first message youâre sending through the station is none other than to herâŠtelling her that youâre feeling a little out of it and youâd have to Iay your head in her Iap to make up for it. She rolls her eyes and tells you to come back soon.
i love pathetic virgin choso sm
⥠husband!satoruâs genes are just too strong ( ˶°ă °) !!
youâre sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on your very obvious baby bump, the other clutching the newest ultrasound.
âiâm done,â you declare.
across the room, satoru pauses mid taking his shirt off. âdone⊠with pregnancy? because i feel like thatâs a little late.â
âwith your genes,â you snap, glaring at the photo. âtheyâre ridiculous. actually unfair.â
he snorts, walking over. ânothing i can do about that, sweetheart.â
you shove the ultrasound toward him. âexplain this.â
he looks at it, then at you. ââŠthat is a baby.â
âthat is you,â you correct immediately. âagain. for the third time.â
he hums like heâs considering it. âwe donât know that.â
âwe do,â you insist, growing more emotional by the second.
âwe have two already, toru. two tiny versions of you running around with your face, your hair, your stupidly pretty eyesâwhat am i even contributing?!â
âeverything?â he offers.
âno,â you shake your head, pouting. âi carried them for months. iâm carrying this one. i do all the work and your genes justâ copy, paste, repeat!â
he triesâ he really doesâ but a grin slips out anyway. âto be fair, itâs a very good face to copyââ
âsatoru.â
âright. not the time.â
you huff, looking down at your stomach. the baby shifts faintly, and it only makes your emotional state worse. âi just⊠i want one that looks like me.â
that quiets him instantly.
he steps closer, slower this time, like approaching something fragile. kneeling in front of you, he gently takes your hand and places it more securely over your bump, covering it with his own.
âthey are like you,â he says, softer now.
âthey donât look like me,â you mumble.
âthey have your expressions. your attitude,â he replies. âthe way they get emotional over the smallest thingsââ
âitâs not small!â
ââand the big things,â he corrects easily, a small smile tugging at his lips. âthatâs all you.â
you hesitate, but your eyes are still shiny. âthatâs not the same.â
âit is to me.â his thumb brushes under your eye, catching a tear before it falls. âand this one? might surprise us.â
âyou said that last time.â
âokay, yeah,â he admits, âand i was wrong.. twice. but yâknowâ third timeâs a charm.â
a reluctant laugh slips out of you.
âthere she is,â he murmurs, leaning in until your foreheads touch. âbesides⊠even if our baby comes out looking exactly like meââ
âshe will.â
ââsheâs still yours first,â he says gently. âyouâre the one she hears, the one she feels. youâre home before she even opens her eyes.â
that makes your expression falter.
ââŠand,â he adds, grin returning just a little, âif we do end up with three mini meâs, i think that just proves you have excellent taste.â
you let out a shaky breath, then weakly smack his shoulder. âyour genes are still stupid.â
âyeah,â satoru says easily, wrapping his arms around you and your bump, âbut you married into the problem.â
you grumble, but melt into him anyway, his hand resting warm and steady over your stomach.
ââŠnext one better look like me,â you mumble.
âpersonally, i do not mind if we keep trying.â
âand whatâ create a whole clan?â you huff.
âi meanââ you slap a hand on his mouth before he can continue.

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Gojo commission I did recently, had to put pants on him for this post booo đ
istg this app needs a watch history or something im tired of my tl refreshing after i switch apps for 5 minutes


