seellove

Sukuna found himself in another’s body in his mid-twenties, awakening one morning in complete darkness, even though he’d been certain his eyes were open. It was a strange feeling at first, a resignation to a suspicion he’d held all his life that there was no destined person for him, giving in to the belief that he’d spend a day floating in nothingness with no other half for his soul to cling to.

His assumption was broken swiftly, at the realisation that he still held some manner of awareness even if his sight was impaired. There was a breeze blowing against his body, chatter sounding off in the distance, and soft sheets were pressing up against skin which surely wasn’t his.

This person, whoever they were, had a body that was exhausted. He ached in places he’d never ached before, his shoulders and upper back straining, like their owner had been carrying a weight beyond their capability. He felt desperately weak in that form, suddenly aware that he only had a human number of limbs to control, and lacked the strength and size he was used to commanding.

In the darkness clouding his vision, he was surprised to find that the blackness wasn’t as deep as he’d originally thought, able to make out fuzzy shapes in the dark which he could only assume made up his surroundings. His hand reached for his eyes, setting his lips into a grim line at the confirmation they were open.

His destined lover was blind.

Disappointment settled into his chest. He had never taken much stock in soulmates in the first place, didn’t really believe in love, but this just furthered his confirmation that the whole matter was a farce. He found respect for the strong - strength was the only thing that truly mattered to him, and yet here he was, in the body of a blind woman.

A feeble little thing hardly able to fend for herself.

What good was she to a man like Sukuna?

A knock on the door startled him. “Are you awake? The madam wants me to help you get ready.”

Sukuna said nothing, trying to figure out why it felt like your body wanted to draw in on itself, your pulse quicking in a seemingly innate reaction to the voice at the door.

“Please, I know you’ve been ill but he’s been calling every day for the past week, the madam doesn’t want to keep him waiting any longer. He’s been bringing forth all manner of threat, and if you’re not careful he’ll buy you out. I know that isn’t what you want. Just let me tend to you and allow him a visit. Keep his temper at bay.”

Sukuna frowned, attempting to piece together what was happening. It was hard without the visual clues of his surroundings, but based on the snippet of conversation he concluded that you were likely a courtesan of some form. Once again, his view of you, and the soulmate system in general, dropped through the floor.

Blind and a whore.

Perfect.

“One moment.” He called out, taken aback by the lovely feminine voice that fell from his lips. It was a soft, delicate sound, one which wouldn’t sound out of place accompanied with a harp. He found himself shocked at how much he enjoyed it, considering saying something else just to hear it again.

Finding the door proved to be a more difficult task than he’d been expecting. He’d already stumbled standing up from your bed, thrown off by his lack of vision and by feet that were ridiculously small compared to what he was used to. His centre of gravity felt all wrong, and his body felt generally unbalanced without his lower set of arms.

Moving at a snail's pace, he made it across the room, impressed that he didn’t run into anything on his journey over. He was grateful for the shadowy outlines present in your visionless gaze, certain that the situation would be made harder without even that as a guide.

Fumbling for the handle, he slid open the door. “Morning. Oh honey, you look like a ghost.” A hand pressed against his skin, and he was ushered over to another part of the room, grateful for the guidance. There was the sound of a chair being moved. “Take a seat.”

Sukuna hesitated, not quite sure where the chair was. He reached out nonchalantly with his hand, trying to feel for it while the other woman’s focus was elsewhere, seemingly rifling through a bag of something. Able to just about make out a black splodge in the centre of his vision, Sukuna took a seat, only to thud down onto the floor.

It hurt. It hurt significantly more than pain Sukuna was used to enduring. He’d experienced all manner of injury - he’d had his blood and guts pouring out onto the floor in the midst of a fight, but somehow this was worse. How fragile was this body of yours? He was glad that he wasn’t born as some weak human, grateful that the abominable aspects of his body increased his strength rather than weakened it.

How could you live like this?

“My lady?” The woman seemed immediately panicked, reaching down and easily hoisting you up by the arm, aiding Sukuna onto the chair. “I’m sorry, you usually tell me you don’t need assistance, I wasn’t expecting-” she cut herself off for a moment, leaving Sukuna in silence and struggling to read the room with no visual cues. “You don’t seem like yourself at all this morning. You’re being very quiet.”

Sukuna said nothing, certain that he could hear the hint of a smile in the woman’s tone.

It was said that when soulmates swapped bodies, you could not under any circumstance tell someone that you were a different inhabitant to usual, else the spell would be broken and you’d both be immediately sent home.

It was an option Sukuna had contemplated the moment the woman walked in, eager to return to his own healthy form. However, he was also a man of great curiosity and it wasn’t like he had much going on at his estate that day anyway. So he opted for silence, figuring he’d at least see, or hear, how the day played out.

There was no harm in that.

Regardless, the woman had seemingly sensed it immediately based on her sudden change of demeanor, but being likely as aware of the rules as Sukuna was, she kept her suspicions silent.

“It's Officer Sugawara who’s set to see you today,” she explained, soft hands running through your hair with a comb, giving Sukuna a shiver of pleasure. “You usually play shogi with the guy for a while and let him get drunk. He’s a proud man who’s desperate for a legitimate win, so you always give him your best and he refuses to give up until he’s too pissed to think anymore. So be on your best game, or he might want to pass his time in another way.”

The warning was clear and Sukuna found himself disgusted. If that man tried to lay a single hand on you while he was inhabiting your body, he’d make sure Sugawara wouldn’t walk out of the establishment alive.

Fortunately, Sukuna was an avid shogi player. He held a great love for the game and was self-assured where his skill was concerned. No one in his estate could beat him, so he was certain he could beat some Officer of the Shogun.

Although, he’d never played it blind - a fact that mildly concerned him.

He hoped the pieces were skillfully made with deep indents, else he’d be completely lost.

“Even though you’re usually talkative with me, you’re not all that chatty with regulars, so it’ll be fine if you stay quiet. On account of you not feeling yourself and all,” she said with a knowing giggle.

It took an ungodly amount of time for that woman to get you ready, and Sukuna wondered how you could bear experiencing such a thing day after day. It seemed such a waste to have so much effort devoted to doing your hair and make-up, and dressing you up, when you couldn’t even see the end result.

For all you knew you could look like a clown.

But Sukuna quickly became certain that wasn’t the case when he was led into another room, your helper grasping his arm in a steadying manner and making sure he was settled down on a pillow before introducing him to a man sitting opposite him. Sugawara wasted no time with greetings, letting out a gasp of awe at your radiant appearance and reaching out to kiss your hand.

Sukuna wanted to reel away at the feeling but remained still all the same. He hoped he didn’t have too much of a scowl on his face.

Even if he didn’t have any interest in you, he didn’t really want to ruin the life of some random blind girl. He loved cruelty, but even for him that felt like an unnecessary slight to a person who was supposed to hold the other half of his heart.

“You look gorgeous. Not sickly at all, might I add. I hope the madam hasn’t been telling lies.”

You were sick - outside of the blindness - Sukuna could feel it. At first he’d brushed off your frailty as something normal for puny little humans, but since rising from your bed he’d become aware that your quivering legs, aching bones and hummingbird heart were far from normal.

“I haven’t been well,” he said simply.

“Oh you poor thing, it's always the most beautiful ones who suffer the most.”

Sukuna found himself wondering what you looked like. He had a vague knowledge of Official Sugawara - he wasn’t an ugly man, certainly not one lacking in prospects by any means. He was powerful in his position in the government, and wasn’t the type who would visit some woman out of pity.

You must’ve been genuinely gorgeous to earn such affection from him.

It was a shame Sukuna would never know.

He wouldn’t look for you once he was back in his own body. He’d move on with his life and that would be that, leaving this day as nothing more than some distant dream.

The games of shogi went by quickly, and Sukuna found that it was easy to slip into your body without arousing suspicion. Once he’d gotten over the original barrier of having to feel each piece for their indents as he picked them up, he fell easily into the flow of it all.

This man across from him seeked little conversation once the games had started, and Sukuna was pleased at how well he was playing that afternoon. He didn’t let the man win once and, as your attendant had mentioned, Suguwara filled himself up with more and more drink. It felt nice to play someone outside of his estate, most of his servants were too afraid to face Sukuna in any sort of test.

It was equally nice to completely destroy a government official with his skill. He was certain this man was having the worst game of his entire life, unaccustomed to this treatment from the lovely courtesan he’d frequent.

But it was at the end of the seventh game, when Sukuna was feeling at his highest, that a disastrous hit would come to his ego.

“You’re really off your game today. I see you really aren’t feeling well,” Sugawara said. There was the sound of shuffling fabric, as if the man had leant forward.

“What?” Sukuna asked, the low disbelief coming out strange in your small voice.

“Your plays are much sloppier than usual. It feels like you’re going easy on me, given you usually destroy me before I can even think about what to do next. Today you’ve been giving me proper games. I don’t like it. You know I hate being pitied.”

Sukuna had to stop his mouth from falling agape.

He wasn’t playing bad games by any means, on the contrary, he was certain that he was playing better than he had in a while, happy to have a new opponent for once. Was this man really saying that you, the normal you, was more skilled at shogi than he was? He really found that hard to believe.

What would some blind courtesan know of tactics?

“Perhaps you’ve simply improved,” Sukuna mumbled bitterly, unwilling to accept that your mastery was greater than his.

Sugawara laughed. “How polite of you, my dear. I can assure you that isn’t the case, and we both know it.” There was some shuffling, and Sukuna sensed that the man was climbing to his feet. It was frustrating to have such limited vision, and he was glad to know that he’d wake up the following day able to see the world once more - he couldn’t imagine living like that all the time. “I’ll leave you to rest. When I return in a few days you best have returned to form, or perhaps the nature of our meetings will need to change.”

A heavy hand rested on your shoulder, wet and clammy against the silk you were draped in. Sukuna wasn’t sure if the disgust was born from his own thoughts on the matter, or from an impulsive response from your body. From your attendant’s words it was clear that you would never sleep with the man, likely keeping your shogi skills sharp to ensure he never won.

Once he was gone, Sukuna sat there in silence, thinking on the man’s parting words.

Were you really so talented?

Part of him wanted to convince himself that he’d been playing worse than usual on account of not being able to see the board, making it difficult for him to think out moves in advance, taking more time than normal while he grazed the pieces with his fingers.

But deep in his soul he knew that wasn’t the case.

He’d played expertly, and still that man knew his opponent wasn’t the real you. All on account of how amateur Sukuna’s ability had seemed compared to yours.

And as his day drew to a close in your body, he realised that he had to know. He had to play you, had to see firsthand just how dramatically your skill exceeded his. He wouldn’t believe it until he’d seen it.

The soulmate thing didn’t matter.

But he needed to meet with you all the same.

Just to sate his interest. That was all.

—

Months had passed since the day you’d swapped with your soulmate. Since the morning you’d awoken to a world of light of colour you’d never seen before, and would never see again.

It was a day you’d never be able to forget - the image of the grand estate you’d awoken in seared permanently into your mind, just like the face of your soulmate who had stared back at you in a bronze mirror. You’d gazed upon his body for longer than you should admit to, wondering for a brief moment if you’d misunderstood how humans looked.

That thought didn’t remain for long. It took no expert to understand that the man you’d been paired with was something unique - the very four armed monster who had half of Japan living in fear.

And as such, you wished you could forget your experience in his body, wished you could see anything but his oddly charming face, because your promised beloved was a monster of the highest calibre. But with only one singular day of vision under your belt, what you’d seen wasn’t so easily displaced, and you found yourself thinking of him often with a longing that you knew to be wrong.

You had told no one of the experience, not even your handmaid, who had outright asked what your body swap experience had been like, what your soulmate had been like, claiming that whoever they were had presented themselves as rather reserved when possessing your body. You’d brushed her off with a shrug, claiming him to be some soldier and nothing more.

No one could know the truth. If they knew you to have any link to such a terrible man they might view you as an associate, and someone deserving of death for something you hadn’t asked for.

The workings of fate seemed strange to you. Was it not enough punishment to be born blind? Why would you also be paired with a monster who seemed to view the human race with general disdain? You were certain he cared little for love, his servant had made that clear when you were in his body, so any hopes of having a soulmate had been stolen from you as a result of this pairing.

Part of you wondered if a man so vile as him might even take things a step further and track you down to put an end to your life, insulted by fate to suggest that it could control him in any capacity. Perhaps he would be further insulted to be paired with someone so damaged rather than some untarnished beauty.

You’d always heard he held great hatred for weakness.

Even so, despite your fear and desire to conceal yourself from him, you couldn’t forget him, couldn’t stop the flicker of longing in your chest you were certain all people held for their destined lovers. Because while he was unquestionably a monster, with a throne of skulls you had witnessed through his very eyes, he also seemed to be more than that.

He was a man of great loneliness, living in grand halls with only a handful of servants for company - and all but one of them would scuttle out of the way when he approached. He seemed to hold a great love for art, with his estate packed with paintings and tapestries and great vases, all kept in pristine condition. For a cannibal, he seemed to take great pride in the cleanliness of his surroundings, in the neat nature of his gardens and springs.

Even in his own appearance, he seemed to take great care, for there was no denying him to be a handsome man even with his unique features. He had a voice to match that beauty, one that you could hardly peel from your mind any more than you could forget his image.

His body was hard to maneuver, too big and confusing to control his many hanging limbs. In a way, it felt akin to your blindness, something different to the way humans were built to be, leaving him to struggle with an issue that no one else could relate to. You wondered how it had been for him in childhood - if he’d felt as isolated and scared as you had to know that everyone else was normal in a way you’d never been.

You pitied him, even through all his sins. You felt you could understand at least a piece of him from a day buried within the confines of his skin.

But still, you would never reach for him - wouldn’t poke the bear even if you could understand why it might bite. You were certain that someone like him would be unwilling to hear you out, unwilling to love or reflect on how he became the way he was - he would swipe your head from your shoulders just like everyone else, and that would be that.

So you would stay away, keep your dreams of him locked deep within your chest, and accept that distance was for the best.

There was more to life than soulmates.

Unfortunately, that choice wasn’t yours alone to make.

The madame had knocked on your door early that morning, with the golden light of the sun only just starting to peek in through your window. Lately you’d been having longer lie-ins and taking less clients as the cold of winter gripped the region. Along with the blindness, you’d been born with a particularly feeble body as a result of complications with your mother during her pregnancy, ailments which were always worse for you in the colder months.

Your bones strained as you pushed yourself up to a sitting position, calling for the woman to enter. As much as you longed to slip back into your dream of red eyes peering back at you with fiery desire, you were still beholden to the will of your employer, even in your months of weakness.

“How are you feeling, my dear?” She asked, as she slipped in through the door. You felt her weight dip the bed as she took a seat beside you, a gentle hand coming to rest on your shoulder.

“Mornings are always the worst but I can manage once I’m up and about. Has Sugawara come calling again?” Most regulars were understanding enough of your condition, and those that weren’t would generally be chased off by the madame or unloaded onto another of the courtesans. Sugawara was one of the few that generally wouldn’t accept such treatment, with only eyes for you.

It didn’t matter too much since the man only ever wanted to play shogi, and that was manageable enough even on your worst days. It seemed that he had no intention of laying with you until he’d beat you in a game fair and square, claiming that if that ever happened he’d buy you out and take you home for he would’ve earned your heart.

That talk always made you uncomfortable, for you had little interest in the man, but you were more than certain he had no chance at ever defeating you at shogi, and could therefore never lay claim to you - assuming he kept his word.

“Not Sugawara…” There was hesitation in her voice. “We’ve received a request for our finest shogi player to be sent to the mayor’s home this evening. Apparently the other courtesan houses have received the same request.”

“I didn’t think the mayor cared much for shogi.”

Again, there was a moment of silence. “No, he doesn’t. A rather unwanted guest has taken up residence in his home, and this is the demand that has come of it.” Immediately your blood ran cold, thoughts drifting away from the madame’s continuing chatter to the red eyes that sat so prominently in the darkness of your mind.

There was no question in your mind as to who this guest was.

And to call for shogi players had you certain he was looking for you. Would he execute you when you walked into a room so clearly lacking in vision? Put an immediate end to the one person who could potentially stir his cold heart if fate were to be believed?

It seemed like the only reasonable explanation

The request to send another in your place died on the tip of your tongue as you once again tuned in to what the madame was saying. “...make sure you’re in top form, I’ve heard any who lose to him are immediately disposed of, but I’m sure that man will be no match for you.”

You wouldn’t send another to face their death. You were the only courtesan in the house who was any good at shogi, anyone else would certainly perish. This was a meeting dictated by fate and you had no opportunity to run from it. You would face him head on and deal with your death graciously, greet your end alone in the dark just like everything else you’d ever faced.

“I’ll do my best,” you said to the madame, and that was the final moment you had for yourself, your sacrifice sealed by your words.

The rest of the morning was spent in a frenzied rush, dressing you up and perfecting your makeup, turning you into a sparkling beauty ahead of your presentation to a monster. Based on the quiet nature of your handmaid, the experience felt more like she was dressing your corpse for burial.

Neither of you spoke such a thing aloud, but tears dripped from sightless eyes all the same when she led you out to the carriage, the madam trailing behind her, sending you off with a soft farewell filled with a sense of finality.

—

Sukuna had undergone an annoying few months.

Steadily, he had made his way, region by region, up to the north of Japan in search of a blind shogi player whose skill allegedly eclipsed his own. In each area, he would call upon all shogi-playing courtesans to meet with him and join him in a game, in the hopes that one day it would be you sitting across from him.

So far, he’d been unsuccessful, and had left a growing pile of bodies and burnt villages in his wake, utterly irritated that the thing he was seeking still evaded his grasp. No one had beaten him. A few had come close but none of them had been blind, so he could be certain that they weren’t you.

He was beginning to wonder if you’d gone into hiding somewhere, forsaking your courtesan life entirely in a bid to avoid him. It wouldn’t surprise him - you’d been in his body, you’d seen he was a monster, a fragile little thing like you was probably terrified at the idea of ever crossing his path.

Either way, he’d still persevere. He’d kill every shogi player if that was what it took to get to you.

He’d recently found his way into the mountainous region of Miyagi, where winter was in full spring. Taking up residence in the mayor’s home in one of the more populous towns in the prefecture, he once again started his usual process of gathering the shogi players. Word spread fast and droves of them appeared swiftly, waiting to be called before him.

It went much as usual, with boring girls presenting themselves before him and providing him with equally boring games of shogi. These people were painfully predictable with no appreciation for the art of the game - really it was a gift for him to steal their lives from them, because he couldn’t imagine living while being so pitifully unskilled.

The pool of Miyagi courtesans was gradually running dry and Sukuna was preparing himself for another disappointing journey further north when his luck finally shifted.

He knew he’d found you the moment you walked in through the door.

You’d stumbled in meekly, eyes averted down to the floor as you bowed low and shuffled towards the centre of the room. You were taking care not to raise your head for him to look upon, and he quickly realised you were making your best effort to conceal your blindness from him, like you could keep your identity secret that way.

It was a futile attempt, for the very atmosphere around you felt charged, his heart picking up inexplicably at the very sight of you.

To say you were beautiful was an understatement. Everything about you was gorgeous, from your soft hair to the striking intensity of your unseeing eyes. You wore the finest silks and they hung off you well, complimenting your figure. He found himself eager to touch you, to rid you off your lovely gown and have his fingers against your smooth skin.

But that wasn’t the reason he had come, and he would play you before entertaining any other matter.

“Sit,” he ordered, taking great amusement in the shiver that seemed to run through you at the sound of his voice.

You dropped to your knees on the cushion before the board, hands pressing against the edge of the table. It was the first chance he got to take a proper look at your eyes, expecting them to be clouded over, but taken aback by the lovely colour your irises still held beneath that mist.

“You’re blind.” He observed aloud, taking note of the way your teeth caught your lower lip anxiously.

“I see more than enough,” your response was guarded.

He hummed, a sly grin settling on his face. Idly, he wondered if you could sense it, because you seemed to tense up a little, fidgeting across from him in a way his traitorous brain seemed to register as endearing. “Is that so? Do you see enough to know my strategy before we commence? Or will you disappoint me like the others?”

“You tell me.”

Your words had his heart stirring against his will, impressed by your serenity before him, still sitting up straight and calm despite the fear he could sense within you. You were a woman who held confidence despite it all, harboured strength even in the face of your obvious weaknesses. He wondered what you were thinking, if you believed he was there to execute you for the mere transgression of being his soulmate.

It wasn’t a foolish assumption.

He would kill you without a second thought if you were uninteresting to him.

But he’d reserve that judgement until after you had played. He had been promised someone exceptional and that was what he wished to see, anything less and your blood would stain the floor just like every other woman who had sat before him. Would you still be so calm if you could see the bodies littering the room? He assumed not.

He wondered if you hated him, if you cursed fate itself to be paired with a man like him. Nothing about you gave anything away, all your focus fixed on the board in front of you, your hands moving steadily against the wood of the board, as if centring yourself.

“Shall we begin?” He asked.

“Yes.”

Sukuna couldn’t quite comprehend what had transpired in that first game he played against you.

He had approached things in much the same manner that he always would when playing shogi - opening strong and attempting to completely overwhelm his opponent, and yet somehow he found opportunities snatched from him at every turn.

Nothing seemed to catch you off guard. Any attempted play was greeted with an easy answer from you, as though you were battling a child. You were always three steps ahead of him, never hesitating in the shifting of a piece, moving with a certainty that had him transfixed.

He found that he couldn’t draw his eyes away from you, his struggle on the board forgotten at the realisation he’d been well and truly defeated. There was no point in struggling further - you had swatted him aside in the way that he usually defeated others, and you had done it with no glee or brag, nothing more than passive indifference once the games finally came to an end.

Your shoulders were raised, as if awaiting something you wouldn’t be able to see coming. A strike from him, perhaps? Or the neat removal of your head from your shoulders? The same fate of all others he’d played across the last few months.

But he wasn’t in the position to do anything at that moment, lashes fluttering as he stared at you, his heart hammering against his ribcage.

There had been no lie told about your skill - on the contrary, you had exceeded his expectations spectacularly. He wanted to play you again and again, wanted to witness the beauty of the way you played, wished to spend hours lost deep in thought considering how he could even begin to pick you apart in a match.

He could spend years sitting across you, gazing upon your lovely form while you worked away in silence with such unquestionable mastery.

No wonder Sugawara had been disappointed in Sukuna’s ability. He couldn’t hold a candle to what you were.

“How?” He asked, unable to think of another word to offer.

Your head was still lowered, eyes fixed elsewhere. He wished you’d look at him, allow him a clearer view of your face, but it occurred to him that such a request may not be easily granted with your lack of vision. You would never be able to lock eyes with each other - it would be something entirely meaningless for you.

“You aren’t all that good,” you spoke softly, a smile playing on your lips.

Sukuna disagreed with your sentiment, considering he’d never been beaten before, but perhaps you’d consider all his previous opponents to be genuinely pitiful at the game.

“So, will you take my life now? Or is that reserved for the losers?” You asked.

“To take the life of someone I could not best would be cowardly and pointless,” he said with a snort. “How would I ever grow to be better than you if I extinguished you from the world? Don’t be foolish. We will play again.”

And again you played.

Game after game until the sun began to rise in the sky, and Sukuna could sense exhaustion drifting through your fragile form. You were shivering from the cold, and he had Uraume bring in a robe to wrap around you, keenly aware of how sickly you seemed to look beneath all the beauty. You were setting up the board for your tenth match when Sukuna finally put an end to things.

“Enough. I would take no joy in defeating an exhausted opponent.” He rose to his feet, stretching as he moved. He wasn’t keen on remaining still for long periods of time, but you seemed accustomed to it, staying deathly still upon your cushion, uncertainty evident in your posture.

“Then, you will send me to my home?” You asked.

“No.” The word escaped him before he could stop it.

He did not wish for you to go anywhere, lest you slip from his grasp never to be found again. It was because he wanted to play you more, that’s what he told himself, but there was more to it than that, and in his soul he knew it.

He never wanted the image of you on your knees before him to slip away, never wanted to lose the pleasurable feeling of warmth that swelled in his chest with you there within his gaze.

“You’ll accompany me to my home, and we’ll play until I’m satisfied.”

—

Weeks had passed since you’d arrived at Sukuna’s estate in the Hida Mountains.

You’d been given no time to bid goodbye to the women at the only home you’d ever known, swept off in a carriage down south where you had to relearn your surroundings in a totally new environment.

Of course, it wasn’t the first time you’d been in the estate, but that experience made little impact on the ease of traversing around with no vision. You had to move slowly, fingers brushing on blurry objects shadowed in the darkness, hoping you didn’t trip over something or walk into a screen door.

For the most part, you were left to your own devices. Sukuna had spoken little to you on the journey home, opting to ride on his horse rather than in the carriage with you, and he’d been equally elusive in his own estate, leaving you in isolation for days at a time.

You couldn’t complain, for your days were spent in peace and serenity.

You would take long walks in the breeze of his garden, have his servants read aloud to you, and practice playing the erhu. On days where it was particularly cold and the chill seeped into your bones, you would remain in the grand bed he had provided and find greater comfort than you ever had in the old bed you’d laid upon in the courtesan house.

The only obligation you ever had to fulfill were shogi games. And during the times that he wasn’t absent from the estate, those would take place every evening, in Sukuna’s own private quarters.

It was an odd decision, considering that the servants played shogi out in the garden, where a proper table was set up for that purpose. But it seemed that Sukuna took care in ensuring your meetings were private - a decision you didn’t dare read into too deeply.

You didn’t dare read into any of his behaviour too deeply, lest you rip your own heart from your chest.

That first meeting with him had been like nothing you’d ever experienced - genuine desire overcoming you at the deep tone of his voice. Even knowing that he could cause your death with little effort, you couldn’t bury the lust within you, a fire that only burned stronger with each encounter with him.

It was hard to hold it together, to pretend that you wouldn’t fling yourself into his arms given the chance, but you tried all the same, keeping yourself distant and cold, like you didn’t dream of him between your legs each night, imagining the sound of his voice whispering sweet nothings against your ear.

Whether he felt the effect to the same extent you did, you weren’t sure. You were certain you’d never know. His interest in you was surrounding shogi, and shogi alone.

One evening, you were sitting across from him having played a handful of games, finding victory had fallen into your hands even more easily than normal. Sukuna seemed distracted by something, the sound of fidgeting settling in your ears. He hadn’t moved to start a new game, and based on the shadowy shapes in your vision, you could only assume he was leaning forward upon the table, bringing him close enough for his breath to fan your face.

“I killed today,” he said. Those were the first words he’d spoken to you that evening - you always followed his example with conversation, if he was feeling chatty you would indulge him, if he wished for silence you would give him that too.

You weren’t exactly sure where he was going with that statement, nor were you certain what type of response he was seeking, so you offered him a hum of acknowledgement and little more. You didn’t wish to think of the death that stained his hands, but nor did it build your animosity towards him.

To some extent you could understand lashing out at the world when you were someone so desperately lonely as he was. Part of you believed that if you hadn’t been so frail perhaps you’d lash out at the world for your own condition. His primary servant had told you he’d been despised throughout his life, and when you find only cruelty in humans it's difficult to cling to kindness.

Sukuna wasn’t so simple as a mere monster. You’d understood that in the day you’d spent in his body, and had only further confirmed it by the intelligence he displayed when you’d speak over games of shogi. He had a great admiration for art and skill, and had seemed rather taken when you’d recited poetry, responding with verses of his own.

He was a multi-faceted man, and much of what you saw only seemed to further your attraction to him, even knowing it was wrong, even knowing you’d be hated for it. For once, you felt you’d found someone who understood what it was like to be you, to be cut off from the easy lives lived by most others.

A soul that entwined so perfectly with yours, even if he’d never be aware of such a thing.

“Do you wish to know who I killed?” He asked.

“I know few people, my lord. I doubt a name would mean anything to me.”

“This one might. I’ve heard you’re familiar with Officer Sugawara? He’s one of the Shogun’s men?”

Thoughts of your regular flickered through your mind. If you were being honest with yourself, you were glad to not have to see him anymore - him or any of the other clients you’d been forced to take. Courtesan life had been difficult for you, forced into it thanks to the conditions of your birth and kept there by a disability that made it hard to escape the life for something better.

Life in Sukuna’s estate had been easier, especially as the weeks passed and you grew more comfortable in the belief that Sukuna wasn't going to steal your life from you. You’d lived in fear of Sugawara buying you out, of being forced to live like some doll in the house of a terribly boring man whose voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard to your ears.

“I know him.”

“Knew him, would be more apt. His body lies at the foot of the mountain.” Sukuna spoke matter-of-factly. “He came to claim you from me. I refused and we couldn’t reach an amicable agreement, so I dealt with it another way.”

You weren’t sure how to react, struggling to process the words. That Sugawara would follow you down to Hida already came as a surprise, you hadn’t known how deep his devotion ran. But somehow, you found yourself rather taken by Sukuna’s decision, by the certainty in his choice to keep you.

To kill a man whose death could cause him issues with the Shogun might as well have been an outright confession of love.

Sugawara’s death meant little to you. Men like that died all the time, and they saw women as little more than pretty objects to own. Sugawara had seen you as an impressive party trick, a clever cat rather than a human with depth and desires of her own. You hadn’t wanted to be his, wouldn’t have liked for Sukuna to surrender you to him.

“Are you irritated with me? When I controlled your body you seemed repulsed at his presence. Perhaps you have a heart too soft for blood and death.”

“No- I-” You hesitated. “Did you do this to protect me?”

There was silence for a moment, and you longed to see his facial expression, but were forced to settle for the hint of confusion in his tone. “Of course. I’ve protected you since bringing you here. You can hardly protect yourself.”

You couldn’t find it in you to be offended - he’d been in your body, he knew of your frailty better than anyone.

“Why? Just because you enjoy shogi so much?”

“Somewhat. Though I must confess, lately I have been losing interest in the game. I feel I’ve come up against an insurmountable wall.” Panic filled you immediately, mind running at a million miles a minute as you analysed his statement. If he was growing bored of playing would he cast you aside? What use did he have for you if not shogi?

But then again, why would he kill Sugawara if he was moments from disposing of you?

“Perhaps it is the fault of my own discipline, for I’ve found it hard to focus on the game for quite some time now.” He hesitated, and you found yourself flinching at the feeling of a soft hand caressing your cheek, leaning into it once you overcame the initial shock of touch. “It is difficult when you have a beautiful woman sitting across from you. It’s even harder when my soul calls for you whenever you're near, drowning out any thoughts I might gather of strategy.”

“Oh.” You weren’t sure what to say, wondering if you should pinch yourself, for many of your dreams centred themselves around such a confession. But the touch had never felt so real before, large fingers brushing against the soft skin of your face.

“I wonder if I’d be more focussed if I admitted fate might make some sense after all. I have never denied myself anything before now, and I’m tired of denying myself you. You have captivated me thoroughly, and I believe the hole in my chest was carved out to allow you to one day settle there.”

The words were by far the most romantic statement anyone had ever uttered to you. In your time as a courtesan you’d heard plenty of cheesy and affectionate lines, ones you’d brush off and forget by the time the client was done with you. Sukuna’s words would burrow into your heart and remain there for as long as you drew breath.

Could anyone fault you for loving a monster who would speak such beauty to you? Could you be hated for finding one who had been cursed by the world just like you had?

“I have no care for the Shogun’s men,” Sukuna continued, “in my eyes they are little more than flies most of the time, an annoying thing to be ignored unless they brush too close. Would it amuse you to know I killed Sugawara out of jealousy? To hear that my chest tightened at the idea of you being taken from my side?”

“Because you enjoy having such a capable rival in intelligence?” You asked, a wry smile creeping onto your face.

“Because I enjoy you.”

It was clear he was waiting for you to say something. The words that had poured from his mouth were unlike any he’d spoken before, and although you couldn’t see him, you could feel the sense of restlessness that gripped his body.

You would not leave him in uncertainty.

“I have only ever seen the world through your eyes,” you confessed shyly, “the only face I see in the endless darkness is yours, and I dream of it every night.” Sukuna’s fingers twitched against your face. “If you’ll have me, I am yours.”

“Even though I’m a monster?” He asked. There was no remorse in his tone, nothing to suggest that he was pained over who he was, it was just an honest question for you to answer as you wished. “You were scared of me when we met. I know you hid yourself from me after discovering our connection, eager to ensure our paths would never cross.”

“Because I believed you would kill me. I thought you to be a man who would stamp out any notion of love and eliminate me along with it.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, failing to deny your statement. You knew it to be true - if you had lost your shogi game on that first meeting, he would’ve done exactly that. It was in his nature to love only that which piqued his interest.

“Especially to be paired with someone so weak, I thought you would consider it an insult.”

He scoffed. “You are far from weak, I’ve found it impossible to best you.”

“I meant physically,” your voice went small. “I did not imagine the King of Curses would favour a sightless woman, nor one so easily broken.”

He was silent for a moment, seemingly processing your words. “I was small and frail once. Perhaps frailer than you. I wish someone had valued me then for my other virtues. I’m big enough and sharp enough to make up for your failings and you are clever enough to cover mine.”

Your mind was reeling at the idea of him admitting to having failings. Your heart stirring at his affection, and his easy desire despite your condition.

“I had not imagined a soulmate to be so well suited to me, for my tangles with fate have always been cruel,” he said. “But you’re something different, something I need at my side, and I will be your eyes, your protector, whatever it is you want in order to keep you there.”

“Oh.” You were positively blushing, whole body trembling beneath the weight of lovely words spoken in that deep voice of his.

Your soulmate wanted you.

A man hated by the world and filled with hatred in return had a space carved out for you, a space for love you hadn’t known him capable of.

You’d loved him from the first time you’d met him, drawn to him by an inexplicable force which seemed to grip him just as hard.

Soulmates really were wonderful.

Silence had settled between the two of you, only broken as the table screeched across the floor, the barrier between you removed. Sukuna shifted forward and an arm came to rest around your smaller body, pulling you towards him. His lips pressed against yours in a kiss you could only describe as sweet.

He didn’t dominate you in the manner you believed a man like him would, instead he took his time, mapping out your lips and drawing you closer to him, letting you bathe in the warmth of his body against yours. It was almost like he was trying not to scare you, aware that you couldn’t see anything he was doing and trying to move slowly as a result.

You wouldn’t have minded either way, your fingers clinging to the biceps of his upper arms, desperate for more of a touch you’d only ever dreamed of.

People always said that to finally touch your soulmate was a euphoria like nothing else, and you truly believed them to be right. Your head felt like it was swimming, chest swelling as if Sukuna’s own soul had wriggled beneath your skin to intertwine with your own.

It was a little overwhelming.

“How I long for you,” he murmured against your ear, breaking the kiss. “I was foolish to have not had you the moment I laid eyes on you, I’ve ached for your touch longer than I care to admit.”

His fingers moved down to your robes, and your breath hitched at the touch. You were no stranger to sex, your job had required it, but the feeling as he undressed you wasn’t like any previous encounter you’d had. What regulars thought of your body was insignificant to you, sex was nothing special with them, just something you had to do if you wished to make a living wage.

This was the first time you’d ever been touched for free by someone you desired, and you felt suddenly nervous at your frail body being judged beneath his crimson gaze - especially when you couldn’t look upon him in the same moment. There was no distraction in the darkness to keep you from worrying about how his gaze might burn through you, imagining discontent on his handsome face.

A cold chill caught you once your robes fell, leaving you kneeling and exposed in front of him. A soft breath fell from his lips, fingers moving delicately from your shoulders down to your breasts, as if checking you were truly real and there before him. More heat flooded you as his finger brushed over your peaked nipple.

“Beautiful. If I didn’t despise the idea of sharing you with another I would paint you like this. Your body is worthy of that reverence.”

“I think my mind is probably more splendid.” You confessed. You had no eyes for awareness of your appearance, and had subsequently never really relied on it. People had said you were lovely, but you could never quite believe it, assuming that they were taking pity on you for your blindness.

“Your mind is exceptional. If I cannot beat you at shogi soon I have half a mind to ask you to assist me with real life strategy,” he said with a chuckle, fingers still trailing a slow path down your body. “But it doesn’t make your body any less lovely, and you cannot deny such things since you’ve never seen yourself. Let me be your eyes and tell you that you are breathtaking.”

A shyness overcame you at those words, head angled downwards as if it would hide your blushing state from him. He raised your chin with a finger, his nose bumping yours before capturing your mouth in a kiss once more, bringing you close against his bare chest. You were so lost in the comfort of the kiss, that you found yourself completely caught off guard when something wet swiped against your stomach and breasts.

Flinching in surprise, you drew yourself back in an attempt to understand what was happening. Sukuna laughed, a hand moving into your hair comfortingly. “It's my tongue,” he spoke easily.

Frowning, you found that his answer didn’t make sense, because still the wet appendage explored your breasts, sending your heartrate flying as it flicked against your nipple with impressive accuracy. How could he be speaking but also doing that?

“There’s a mouth on my stomach. Perhaps you didn’t notice when you controlled my body.”

You were ashamed to admit you hadn’t noticed such a thing. Sukuna had been naked when you’d awoken in his body, and you’d been quick to dress him up in robes, feeling rude to intrude upon the body of another without consent. You’d very intentionally not paid too much attention to the workings of his body, not when the first thing you’d seen was the oddity he sported between his legs.

The memory that he had two of what most men only had one, suddenly had you feeling a little nervous in your position. You had no time to voice such nervousness before he was picking you up, allowing his second tongue to continue its onslaught while he carried you over to the bed, depositing you down upon the silk.

His weight moved on top of you, and he swallowed a gasp with his lips as his monstrous tongue shifted its attention from your breasts down to between your legs, dexterously finding a path between your things and lathering your pussy with attention while Sukuna consumed your mouth. Tears pricked in your eyes at the sensation, unaccustomed to a feeling like that.

In all your years as a courtesan, you’d never been eaten out. Men didn’t come to brothels to serve women, they came to have their own needs attended to, and you’d done that in whichever manner they desired. You were grateful to have never experienced that feeling before, because it was a blessing to have Sukuna be your first.

Pressure built in your stomach over a series of minutes, overwhelmed by the way he seemed to be everywhere. A tongue between your lips, another between your thighs, hands squeezing your breasts, tweaking your nipples, more hands gripping your hips, pulling you up onto his secondary tongue to allow it a better angle to overwhelm you.

For the first time, you started to understand how Sukuna must feel whenever he played you at shogi - stumbling blindly in the dark whilst overcome from all angles with no means of knowing what was going to come next. It was pleasure in its highest form, and you were quick to cum with a yelp of his name, tears dripping from the corners of your eyes.

Sukuna broke the kiss, breathing heavily against your ear. It was a sound you enjoyed, one you could listen to all day if he’d allow you. “I have imagined you beneath me like this every night this week,” he mused, “my imagination is hardly as pleasant as having the real thing. You taste much sweeter than my mind could conjure.”

Again, you were flushing red. “Y-you can taste me through…that?”

“Of course.” You were certain he was grinning, “And I’m glad that I can.” His secondary tongue was still moving slowly through your folds, lapping up the remnants of your first orgasm, teasingly flicking against your clit and making your shudder.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, breathing quietly together. You weren’t sure what Sukuna wanted to do next, but for a moment you were happy to savor the warmth of his heavy body, twitching while he lazily continued his attention to your body. How you longed to see him, eager to witness the expression he was wearing while he attended to you.

All you had to go off was the erratic beating of his heart where his chest was pressed against you.

“Let me have you,” he murmured against your ear. “Let me make you mine.”

“I’m already yours.”

“Is that so? Then let me make it official.”

He shifted atop you, withdrawing his secondary tongue. In the absence of that heat between your thighs, you grew suddenly aware of a heavy pressure against your leg. Your mind jumped to the image of his cocks that you’d filed away in the back of your mind, gut twisting at the thought of either one of them pressing into you.

Sukuna chuckled from above you, a hand coming to stroke your hair. “You’ve seen them, haven’t you?”

You nodded.

“I can tell, you’ve got that scared little look on your face. It’s fascinating, when you play shogi you’re unreadable, but outside of that? You’re practically an open book with your emotions always written across your face.”

Pouting, you let humiliation wash over you. Nobody had ever told you that before. It was hard to guard one's emotions when you had no measure of how the faces of others looked. That was something you’d have to work on. At least you had the good sense to give nothing away when you played shogi.

Another laugh echoed from his lips. “Even now I can see your panic. It’s very endearing.”

Any protest or response you had for him faded away into the recesses of your brain as he shuffled on top of you. He maneuvered you carefully into a new position, raising your legs and placing them up atop his broad shoulders. You were grateful for your flexibility in that moment, because the size difference between the two of you made that no easy task.

Sukuna was watching you from above while he positioned one of his cocks between your legs, running it steadily through your wet folds in a way that had you shivering with desire, still not fully recovered from the actions of his tongue. You were quick to discover that his focus was on his lower cock, as the upper one bumped pleasurably against your clit.

“You know,” he mused, stilling his movements. “I’m surprised you struck no deal with me. It is what I had imagined you would do.”

“What?”

“I’d assumed I would ask for more and you would refuse me. I’d thought your respect was tied to shogi, that you would refuse anything from me unless I was capable of beating you.” Your mind moved to Sugawara as you connected the dots. Sukuna believed you’d made that deal before, as if that tiresome Official hadn’t dictated those rules of his own choosing.

Shogi was a game you adored, mainly because it was an activity you could excel at even without sight, unlike many other courtesan pastimes such as painting, which would forever be an impossibility for you. But it was by no means something you made all your decisions on, nor were you particularly interested in the skill of others.

If someone could defeat you, you would congratulate them for their win and move on, it would ultimately mean little.

To you, it was little more than a game. To various men, it seemed to be something held in much higher regard - a true mark of intelligence rather than a game for which one could learn and remember strategies to allow them a win.

It mattered little to you whether Sukuna could defeat you or not. Your affection for him wasn’t tied to it in any manner.

“To make such a demand would be wasting my own time. Why would I turn down a man I desire over something so trivial? Besides, my bet with Sugawara was made to ensure I never had to lay with him, that is not the fate I want for us.”

“So you believe I am incapable of winning?” He asked, with greater disappointment than you’d been expecting.

“I do,” you said with a giggle, “just as I am incapable of emerging victorious in a battle. We all have our strengths.”

A yelp fell from you as he pushed the tip of his cock into you, catching you unawares. “Yeah?” He asked, pressing deeper into you, his fingers tangling tightly into your hair. “Rather sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh again - even in the midst of the dull pain of him driving into you, there was something so endearingly pathetic about his words.

“I am. But you’re free to challenge me whenever you like.”

He was silent as he bottomed out inside of you, his face falling to your neck and leaving a trail of kisses and bites along your skin while he allowed you some time to adjust. You were grateful for his consideration of your wellbeing, fingers digging into his skin, your gut aching as he leaned forwards over you, pushing your legs higher on his shoulders.

There was no question that he was the largest man you’d ever had inside you, practically tearing you apart with his intrusion, but after a few minutes of stillness you found yourself able to relax, the panic exhibited by your body slowly dissipating as you accommodated his size.

“I will challenge you whenever I like,” he whispered against your ear. “After this, the cloud of lust you’ve placed in my mind will be thinner, and I will beat you with ease.”

“Oh, I’m sure-”

Your snarky response was promptly cut off as he withdrew himself from you, only to swiftly fill you up once more, pulling a desperate cry of his name from your lips. There was no second adjustment period given, instead you found yourself clinging on for dear life as he filled you over and over again with swift and deep thrusts that had your eyes rolling back.

One of his hands moved to your stomach, pressing down against the bulge where his cock would press up inside you. It was clear he was fascinated by it, finding great enjoyment in you being claimed by him. You were certain he was no virgin, but it seemed that you were the first woman who meant something to him, the first one who was worth something beyond carnal pleasure.

Legs quivering beneath the weight of his thrusts, you appreciated the way two of his hands came to rest on your thighs, keeping you steady with each brutal snap of his hips. You were crying and whining, your hands blindly reaching for him but finding him just out of range in this position. Seemingly to appease you, he leant further forward, really testing the flexibility of your legs as he practically folded you in half.

Lips pressed against your forehead affectionately, and you enjoyed every single second of his attention, mind floating off on a cloud as your gut tightened with each careful stroke, your walls flexing around his cock. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, a feeling only heightened by the erratic contact of his higher cock rubbing up against your clit.

“You feel so good, fuck. I can’t last like this,” he grumbled, never losing pace. It stroked your ego to know of his desire, to understand just how much he’d been holding back since your first meeting. It was everything you imagined the joining of two soulmates would be - desperately euphoric and overflowing with pleasure.

Sex had never felt so good, it had never really felt good at all, and yet you could spend eternity with Sukuna buried inside of you, your bodies and souls joined just as they were always meant to be.

He was yours and you were his. It was just as fate had decreed.

There was nothing stopping the scream that ripped through you as you finally teetered over the edge, your body convulsing in pleasure and clamping down on Sukuna’s thick cock, eager to milk him for all he was worth. You were sobbing his name and writhing against the silk sheets, your hands gripping them desperately in an attempt to anchor yourself to something in the throes of pleasure.

Sukuna couldn’t hold on long after that either, spilling into you with a warmth that only heightened your pleasure. His other cock found its release at the same time, cum dripping down onto your stomach in a manner that you’d usually find disgusting, if it weren’t your soulmate who was doing it to you. He groaned your name quietly, and let your legs fall from his shoulders.

Without the barrier of your thighs, he settled himself down on top of you, pressing kisses all over your face, his cock still twitching inside your exhausted pussy. You let him lather you with affection, still trying to come to terms with this side of Sukuna. It had been what you’d wanted, what you believed he was capable of, but you hadn’t dreamed it would truly happen.

The most you believed you’d get from him was a lifetime of shogi matches, in which the two of you would remain close but never cross the line you’d been so desperate to leap across.

“Has the fog of lust lifted?” You teased. “Do you believe now you can defeat me?”

Sukuna let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “Perhaps we will have to do that a few more times for it to fully ease.”

“Oh is that so?” You giggled, reaching out for his hair. He gripped your wrist and moved it into position, allowing you to play with the soft locks you’d been so eager to touch since the first time you’d seen them upon his head.

You wished you could gaze upon that lovely shade of pink once more, but it was enough to know he was there before you, yours to touch as you pleased.

“Mmm, I think it would help,” he purred.

“I’m sure that can be arranged.”

You’d give him whatever he wanted. You were his and he was yours for as long as he’d have you.

a/n: I had so much fun writing this one! thinking about doing one soulmate au for each of the jjk men because I find them so enjoyable to play with <3

anyway, for any crazy in love fans, the next chapter will be out towards the end of this week!

perma taglist: @calicatzz @suzunu @winkii @sukubusss @bobis-notmylover @tetsuski @torupilled @brattyxackerman @r0vena @chaos-4baby @moonlitreveri3 @feyrinnn @strawberryrosey @creamofsneky-blog @zeeseekay @p1nkfl0wers @apricityn @keiiiluv @dogggggggblog-kaye @duckie3801 @lav4mpira @seellove @cutesytwt @gojodickbig @yuujispinkhair @somos-things @yeagersss @paradisestarfishh @jennilynn63 @tthhaattgguuyy27 @bexxli @being-blue-is-better @tisuruxx @juliarchiv3s @dishs0pe @plutoxxxworld @5kkalara @serenadesvt @00frenchfries00 @warriorofenlightenment @scarlet-issilly @himbosexual @pousivuitton @ksjtozaki @certainfanpoetry @gojoscumslut @ynishalee @nakiich

"Sneak away where?" You asked, a hint of sarcasm slipping out of your sleepy voice.

Before he could answer, Suguru's hand settled firmly on your hips, and you glanced back to see him sitting up after you, the bed creaking as he readjusted, his fingers clearly itching to claim you as his tired stare shifted between you and his best friend.

"I was about to make her breakfast," Suguru announced, annoyance hanging in the air as Satoru scoffed.

"I already made french toast," Satoru protested.

"Is it edible?" The man in bed with you retorted, arching up a dark eyebrow as the one in front of you abruptly clamped his pretty mouth shut, like he didn't want to answer.

You kinda liked watching them bicker back-and-forth, amusement overwriting the anxiety in your stomach as they exchanged petty scowls and remarks.

"I mean, yeah," Satoru half-scoffed after a few awkward seconds of silence, but it wasn't that convincing.

"What do you want to eat?" Suguru softly asked you, brushing your hair back off your shoulder to pull your attention back to him with ease that surprised.

"Would you hate me if I wanted some waffles?" You said, not totally sure if you were asking Satoru or replying to Suguru.

"Of course not-"

"I'll get them started."

They both spoke up at the same time, and you had to suck in your bottom lip to not giggle a little as they ended up just throwing each other irritated glances.

They could sort it out between each other.

As long as they didn't end up strangling each other in front of the cameras, you didn't really see the harm in entertaining both of them.

It at least kept them occupied while you got ready for the day, switching into a bikini and putting on sunglasses so you didn't have to do your makeup before you walked back out to where they were making food.

But when you slid into a stool, they were both sliding plates of food in front of you, Suguru's neatly plated like he was the chef at some restaurant while Satoru had cut up fruit to make a smiley face on top of a half-burnt waffle.

"Mine's cuter," he muttered under his breath.

"You burned it," Suguru reminded him.

"I'll try both," you shut them up, rolling your eyes as you started with Suguru's, pouring some syrup on the side before cutting it up.

"Can I feed you mine?" Satoru eagerly asked, already spinning the plate around to start cutting it for you, mirroring the size you sliced yours into.

"Am I going to be able to stop you?" You tilted your head to the side, already knowing the answer.

But Suguru didn't want to let that slide either, reaching over to wipe the corner of your lips when some syrup got on it, sucking his thumb clean afterwards like he had with the salt on your fingers before.

A battle of who could find the most excuses to touch you beginning as Satoru slid into the seat next to you, his fork stabbing a square of his own waffle before he was telling you to say ah and reaching up with his free hand to guide your jaw open. Your chin pinched between his nimble fingers as you contemplated what Sukuna would do if he caught you like this.

Sandwiched between two ridiculously hot men, pampered and treated sorta like a spoiled pet, handfed and held with open adoration.

But it wasn't him that walked in on it.

"Am I interrupting?" You twisted around to see Yuki lazily strolling over, her head casually cocked to the side as the guy she was coupled with tried to feed you breakfast.

You instantly felt like shit.

Something uncomfortable shifting in your stomach as you plucked a piece of strawberry off your plate and held it out, forcing a bright smile at her. "You hungry?"

"A little," she yawned, walking over and leaning down to just eat it off your palm, her soft lips skimming over your skin before she swallowed it. "Thanks."

Her warm brown eyes slowly tracing the shape of you before she looked over at Satoru, assessing the way he was leaning towards you, her manicured brows knitting together before she relaxed with an exhale.

"How did you sleep last night?" You asked, unsure what to do with the slimy feeling still sticking to you as her lean body rested against you on the stool.

"Someone kept stealing the blankets," she hummed, teasingly looking back at Satoru as he sheepishly shrugged his shoulders. And then she was turning back to you, a knowing glint in her stare as she nodded towards Suguru. "You two looked pretty cozy though."

"I was tired," you excused.

So exhausted that you simply couldn't stay awake the second Suguru decided to be your personal comforter.

Yuki giggled, like she saw something you didn't.

And you couldn't help but think why hadn't one of them just decided to go for her instead. She was gorgeous. The kind of easy, effortless beauty you usually saw in magazines. Long limbs and long blond hair, her tits sitting pretty fucking perfectly in every outfit she wore, laughing and smiling and funny and a billion other things that would pretty much make her anyone's dream girl.

God, if you were a guy, she would be your first pick.

Shit, if Satoru spent a few hours with her, he would surely realize that too, wouldn't he? Figure it out for himself that she would make everything so much fucking simpler than you would?

You were damaged.

Broken and jagged and bent in so many places that you were never going to make being someone's other half easy. All you'd do was break his heart, no matter how many times he tried to hand it to you.

Yuki had told you before that she was here for a fun time. That she wouldn't mind meeting someone she really connected with, but she wasn't expecting to find her soulmate or anything.

And some piece of you felt like you were still fucking it up for her. She was coupled up with a great guy, and she couldn't even enjoy it with you in the way. And the one she was interested in had chosen you too.

Shit.

Maybe you hadn't really known her long enough to consider her a real friend, but she was still your favorite person in the villa.

What were you supposed to do? Step back from Satoru to give them a chance to build a connection? Even if the thought of that made you feel sorta ill?

You didn't know.

Couldn't decide.

Just sitting there awkwardly as the conversation began to fizzle out, only for someone to shout from across the pool that they'd gotten a text.

You hadn't even realized the rest of the islanders were up, your head snapping around to scan and spot everyone's still tired figures making their way over to where Manami was calling out, waving a phone production must've given her.

She already had her makeup on, wearing a tight two-piece as Naoya's hand possessively gripped onto her waist like he was convinced someone else might take her from him.

Everyone else made their way to the crescent-shaped couch, begrudgingly joining them, Utahime half-sitting on Shoko's lap, her legs thrown over her friend's, not even bothering to look to where Nanami was lounging to her left, his head reclining back as he soaked up the sun. Golden blond hair sparkling as he exhaled, his defined jaw clenched as if he was trying to remind himself that he was supposed to be relaxing.

Your group of four joined them, still paired up as you tried to sink back into the cushions, thankful that Yuki kept you from being stuck between Suguru and Satoru again when Sukuna finally decided to show up, his muscles literally glistening with tanning lotion rubbed into them as he yawned and stretched, the tattoo of your name on full display before he took a seat right next to your current partner.

"Well?" He grunted, glaring at Manami.

You wondered if they had shown him your fight with her before he came on the show. Although, if you had to judge by the loathing lingering in the hard lines of his face right now, you would take a wild guess that they had.

Manami's nose wrinkled up, sharing his disgust before she cleared her throat and begin to speak, "Today, we're sending two islanders out on a date."

You knew it.

Discontent settled in your stomach, your eyes already shifting over to Yuki and Satoru, sure that you'd have to spend the entire day in the villa waiting for them to return and him to realize that she fit him in a way you never would.

"Who?" Utahime cut in, and you couldn't tell if she was excited because she thought it was her, or because she was convinced it wouldn't be.

Either way, you were so focused on Satoru's side profile that you weren't even paying attention until she said your name.

Immediately snapping out of it as you blinked back surprise, looking over to Suguru to see if he heard the same thing, his mouth curling up in a smug smirk as he slid his arm around your shoulder. Ignoring the way your ex-boyfriend was literally three inches away from him looking like he was planning on smothering him with a pillow in his sleep.

"Does it say where?" Suguru calmly asked, your mouth going dry as it hit you that the opposite was about to happen.

"Nope," Manami muttered, putting the phone back up as you stupidly looked back to see Satoru's reaction at being separated from you once again.

His stare hurt.

The sharpness in that brilliant shade of blue, blinking too fast, too hard as he held onto your face. His broad chest unsteadily rising and falling like he was having a hard time breathing, the lump in his throat bobbing before you forced yourself to look away.

"Have fun," Shoko wryly said, and you were numbly nodded, not sure what else you could do when they probably had five different cameras capturing your reaction from all different angles.

"I guess we should go get ready," you cleared your throat, making yourself turn to Suguru as he leaned down to press a simple peck to your forehead.

It seemed to be so simple for him. Knowing what face to wear. What to do. How to be perceived.

Yuki was standing up behind you, her fingers interlacing with yours as she started to tug you back towards the villa.

"I'll help," she chirped, offering assistance you accepted with another bob of your head.

She did your makeup for you, her tongue peeking out from between her pink lips as she focused on getting every detail just right. Pulling out a bunch of dresses from her suitcase and yours, holding them each up against you and clicking her tongue until she landed on a soft, summery sundress.

“I’d go on a date with you,” Yuki winked when she was finally finished, her hand skimming over your breast before she fixed where one of the straps got twisted. "He's not gonna be able to keep his hands off you."

"I guess it'll be good to get to know him more," you murmured, staring at your own reflection and leaning closer before applying a little more lip gloss.

"You should just have fun."

Fun.

You didn't know why the fuck you had to keep reminding yourself of that.

But you were nervously bouncing your leg and biting the inside of your cheek by the time someone from production ushered you out into a car together, being shushed not to speak during the drive as you glanced out the tinted windows to watch the palm trees pass by.

You thought you'd be like, skinny dipping or on another cheap picnic so production didn't have to pay for shit.

But to your surprise, they took you to some tiny amusement park by the ocean, the kind of place with rickety coasters and funnel cakes and those cutouts you stuck your faces in to snap cheesy photos. It wasn't busy either, fairly slow as you were instructed to just walk around and have a good time.

On the bright side, you weren't forced to make a ton of fake conversations just so they could get enough clips. They hadn't shut down the park, but they had pulled some strings to get you through to the front of most lines and having a few areas marked off so they could shoot the one-on-one stuff in peace.

And as weird as it was, you sorta got used to being followed around and filmed.

You suspected that there was some ulterior motive production had for sending the two of you away - most likely stirring something atrocious up for you to both return to in the villa.

What would it be?

Giving Yuki and Satoru some time to get more acquainted too? Sending in a sparkling new bombshell to catch his eye? Maybe riling up Sukuna so he'd fly off the handle once you stepped back through the door?

As much as you wanted to sit around and spiral, all your wondering wouldn't get you anymore.

And it was sorta nice to be away from the pressure cooker of emotions and past trauma the villa had turned into for you.

Suguru let you lead the way, choosing what to ride and making suggestions as you actually got the chance to talk about normal things. Bringing up his job again, murmuring about how much he enjoyed teaching, softly speaking about what his life was like back home before this.

Suguru actually only lived a city away, teaching at a college a few of your friends had actually gone to. He told you about his twin nieces he adored and how they'd probably watch this one day when they were old enough just to mock him mercilessly for it. His students too, probably.

"Don't you think there's something a little unethical about you being on here when you're supposed to be shaping impressionable young minds?" You teased him, only to be reminded how much you liked his chuckle and the way his dark eyes glittered in the sunlight.

And somewhere along the way, you started to let go of some of your apprehensions. Letting yourself enjoy the roller coasters, laughing when you had to run your fingers through his hair to help detangle it afterwards. Watching him try to win you stuffed animals from rigged game booths, unable to hide your excitement when he finally won you a small stuffed bear, clutching it to your chest as you studied its pink tufts of fur and slightly crooked beaded eyes as you thanked him.

Suguru was comfortable to be around.

Something about him you couldn't quite put your finger on disarming you in private, pulling you in and keeping you glued to his side as he got you funnel cake and then held your hair back when one of the rides had you puking it back up and praying they wouldn't air that part.

Getting to know him was a little terrifying.

Sex was one thing. Kissing, touching, sleeping together, all of that was physical. But opening up the door to something emotional carried unavoidable danger.

Because the more you knew, the more you it hit you how much there was to like, and the more you liked him, the more likely you were to lose him.

He slipped his arm around you at every chance and held the doors open for you and looked at you like every single stupid thing you had to say was interesting and fuck-

No.

You swallowed hard, stopping yourself mid-spiral as the setting sun cast golden shadows across his pretty side profile as you realized that you hadn't even realized the afternoon was up until it was over.

Suguru really was beautiful.

It wasn't the same as Satoru. No, not quite so bright, or nearly as intense. His beauty struck you slower, like the longer you stared at him, the more details you discovered. The faint frown lines by his mouth, the jagged edge of his sharp jaw, the bone structure beneath his annoyingly clear complexion that looked like it had been carved by some adoring god.

His eyes crinkled when he laughed. Little wrinkles you wanted to trace with your fingertips. His bangs fell down and framed his face like the universe wanted to remind you how fine he was, his fingers digging into your palm a little tighter, pulling you away from the rides and the games.

Some piece of you wondered what your life would have been like if you met a guy like him instead of Sukuna.

Would he have brought out the best in you instead of the worst?

You ended up on a private bench, polishing off cotton candy and talking about his philosophy degree as you glanced around the relatively empty corner of the park. The sun was beating down on both of you, but he didn't seem to mind, one arm slung behind your shoulder and his linen shirt hanging loose on his solid frame while you stared at his relaxed form. A tiny pink tuft of the sugar floss sticking to the corner of his mouth that you reached up and picked off.

"Thanks," he tenderly spoke, like he was actually grateful for it. Sukuna probably would've grumbled or grunted about it, maybe said he didn't need your help. Satoru might've pretended you had some stuck too so he could lick it off.

"Mhm," you hummed back.

"Satoru likes you a lot," he muttered, like he wasn't sitting there brushing your hair from your face for the excuse to touch you too, his thumb slowly drifting over your cheekbone as you tried to slow the butterflies in your stomach from fluttering. "But I like you too."

You opened your mouth to protest, but his mouth preemptively reacted before you could speak, twitching up in amusement like he couldn't control it.

"You really have a hard time accepting that, huh?" Suguru added, and you let out a defensive huff that didn't exactly help your case.

"I am not exactly lucky with love," you murmured, narrowing your eyes at him just for one of his hands to slip over your thigh, fingertips sliding over down to the hem of your sundress with affection that felt deliberate.

Everything he did was pointed. Precise. Nothing lacked a meaning, even if it wasn't immediately obvious.

He thought before he acted. You couldn't really say the same.

"Luck can change."

"Mine never does," you bluntly stated, like you were daring it to defy you.

You were tired of trying.

Of struggling and suffering hoping for something to break and begging the universe to not let it be you.

"I think you both only like me because I'm a challenge," you added, staring at the last blue bits of cotton candy spun on the paper cone. "I'm just waiting for you to get bored."

"You’re gonna be waiting a while, pretty girl," Suguru warned, his mouth curling up as you rolled your eyes.

As much as you told yourself you didn’t want anything serious, that you never needed love to start with, being around someone like him made you want it anyway.

Curiosity craving a taste of what it would be like to be loved by someone steady.

"Can I try again?" He asked, and you squinted suspiciously back at him.

"Try what again?" You arched a brow, but he just leaned into you, your pulse picking up as you tried to ignore how nice his cologne smelled. How normal it felt to be this close to him.

"Kissing you," Suguru softly spoke, his dark gaze glancing down to the shape of your lips like he somehow missed them.

"One," you allotted, holding your breath as he leaned down and let his nose brush ever so tenderly against the tip of yours.

When his mouth moved to meet yours though, you almost immediately knew you were going to make this last as long as possible. Captured by the heat in his lips, the way he greedily sucked you in, soft and slow and sensual all at the same time, as if he knew he might not get the chance to do this again, but Suguru still refused to rush it.

So what if one kiss turned into, like, ten?

Before long, you were on his lap, your fingers fully tangled into his silky hair and his tongue halfway down your throat as his palm slowly slid down your spine. Fingers splayed possessively at the small of your back before he pulled you in all the way, your thighs straddling his as you were struck by the abrupt thought you fit rather nicely into him.

And when he pulled back to suck in a breath, his dark eyes darting between yours and your lips like he needed more, you were almost leaning forward to keep it going.

"Would you want to spend the night in the hideaway with me tonight?"

REMINDER THAT ON THE POLLS WHOEVER WIN WILL NOT BE IN THE NEXT POLL !!

A montage of that moment flashes up on the screen, making you turn away for a moment. You’ve seen it enough times by now. Even though you didn’t see it live given you were late that day, it was broadcast all over the internet in an endless loop since then, and you weren’t really dying to see it today of all days.

The day where he rides again professionally for the first time.

You knew deep down, there wasn’t a world where he’d never try again. He’s been training like mad for this event, his goal being that he would ride again by the end of the year. His muscle mass was a sight to behold, his mind was sharp, and his old balance and coordination seemed to be back to normal. 

Even though you were downright terrified for him, you knew he wouldn’t go out there if he wasn’t sure. He’d promised you at least that much when he first declared he was going to go for it again. Sukuna knew that this whole experience had been just as much hell on you just as it was him, so he wasn’t keen on putting you through something remotely close to that again.

Turning back to the arena, your eyes drift to the chutes where Sukuna is getting strapped in. The sides are clattering on account of the unruly bull he’s slated to ride. If there was one thing about his debut that scared you, it was that he purposefully chose to ride the toughest bull on the circuit right now. 

To add insult to injury, he still was riding helmetless.

Even Toji had strongly advised to start easier and work his way back up, but since when has Sukuna ever been one to take the easy way out? In his words, what the fuck was the point in showing up if you weren’t going to ride the best? Your eyes must’ve looked on in horror because he immediately gripped your biceps, murmuring to you once again that he wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t ready.

He better be fucking ready, you think to yourself. If he loses his mind again, he might just have to find a new woman to help him gain it all back.

“Nervous?” Gojo asks to your right. He wasn’t riding this weekend, opting to take a break to see Sukuna back on his debut ride. A small entourage accompanied you this time including him and Sukuna’s family in the row behind the two of you. Toji was barking something down into the chute from his position atop the adjacent fence.

“I’d be lying if I said no,” you murmur, burying your face in your hands.

Gojo chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. You appreciate the comfort, finding it almost grounding as your mind starts to race with possibilities. A highlight reel of sorts is running on the big screen, no doubt aiding in hyping up the crowd that was already deafening. 

Sukuna surely was loved in this sport.

“He’s fuckin’ crazy, but that’s what makes him the best,” Gojo lets out a chuckle. “He’ll be just fine.”

“You aren’t just saying that to make me feel better?” you retort, knee bouncing your foot on the metal bleachers. 

“I mean, partially yeah. I’d never admit out loud that he’s the best unless it was for a good reason,” Gojo answers, now making you laugh.

“My uncle’s gonna win!” Yuji’s shrill voice chants at a similar age child, Toji’s son Megumi, who sits next to him. 

“You’ve been sayin’ it all morning,” Megumi snaps back, black hair falling into his eyes.

“Yuji put your drink in the cupholder when you’re done drinking!” Jin’s voice barks just as you notice the soda dripping down the child’s arm from sloshing over the cup sides.

“Sorry dad,” his voice softens, doing as he’s told. “I’m sticky now though, help!” he holds out his arm to his father, earning a grimace from Jin in response.

“Nope, you gotta live with it until Uncle Sukuna is done,” his father smirks at the boy and for a moment you see your own boyfriend in the normally docile man’s face.

Not to say your boyfriend isn’t docile, it's just that it’s usually reserved for something super domestic between the two of you that no one else would see. 

“He’s about to go,” Gojo tugs your sleeve, pulling your attention back to the arena. The dirt is all torn up from the prior riders, and considering Sukuna was saved for last, the competition results hinge on these last eight seconds.

The buzzer sounds, chute flies open, and a mottled white and black bull charges out faster than should be possible. 

Sukuna’s face is pure concentration once the first buck hits him, jerking his body to take the impact of the bull’s back against his own. 

His cowboy hat shifts further up his head, revealing pink strands plastered to his face. Another sharp buck from the animal forces Sukuna to shift to the side, still keeping his free hand from touching the animal and avoiding a penalty.

“Nice!” you hear Wasuke shout from behind you along with murmurs of approval from Gojo and Jin.

You wish you could cheer and shout, but all you can do is watch and pray that each time the bull throws its backside into the air that your cowboy stays on for another second. 

Each thud of the hooves into the earth feels like a beat of your heart hammering in your ears. Your grip on the metal bleacher below is starting to get painful, fingers tensing up under the pressure. 

The buzzer blares, signaling time up. 

Sukuna is still on the bull, starting to detach his riding hand.

Then the crowd roars, chanting his name so loudly that the announcers need to wait to start speaking.

Sukuna vaults himself off the back of the bull, landing gracefully in the dirt, red chaps flapping against his legs from the impact. The bull sees the color immediately, staring down Sukuna and for a moment, your breathing stops. Of course it charges your boyfriend and his stupid choice of color! 

He dodges with ease however, launching himself up onto the arena barriers until the bull is wrangled and ushered out of the ring. 

“What a finish!! The king is back folks, if any of you doubted his return, you can see yourselves out now because Sukuna has just scored a 93.5, taking first place for the night!! He’s won!!”

Sukuna jumps back down, running out to the center of the arena and raising his arms in a motion to pump up the crowd.

And boy does it work, the sound is deafening, Sukuna’s own grin spreads wide as he scans the grandstands, taking it all in. 

You’re up cheering now too, partially that it’s over and he’s alive and also because seeing him in his domain, crushing the competition, makes you more proud than you can describe. 

The whole concept of rodeos isn’t exactly something you love participating in, but seeing the man you love doing what he was born to do, loving every second, makes your chest swell. 

He turns to your section now, sauntering over with a cocky strut until he’s at the edge, beckoning you over to him. 

Startled, you look around like he’s motioning for someone other than you, because you aren’t used to this. It’s the first time he’s acknowledged you publicly post ride, but you figure this is now your new normal.

Running towards the railing, you jump into his arms, letting him pull you into his chest. The hard material of his padding meets your body and the scent of musk and spice from his cologne envelops your senses.

Wrapping your arms around his back, you bury your face into the crook of his neck, letting him do the same. Leather from his hat chafes against your neck, but you hardly notice, opting to squeeze the man as hard as you can.

“I’m so proud of you,” you mutter loudly over the crowd, fingers twisting in his shirt. “You did amazing, I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“Yeah?” he pulls back, voice raspy and eyes lidded as he stares down at you. He carefully positions your feet so you’re standing on his boots, helping you avoid the muddy floor as much as he can.

His hat brushes your forehead as he cocks his head, leaning in to kiss you. It shocks you at first, but you quickly melt into it, kissing him back, keeping it G rated of course. 

The way he nibbles at your lip though, you can tell he’s fighting it. In return, you give him a fast nip on his lower lip and with a dash of your tongue, pull back in a flash. 

The cameras can’t see, but down here, the way his crimson eyes darken is unmistakable. 

“Have like 10 minutes till press,” Sukuna mutters against your mouth, pressing bruising kisses against your lips after kicking the door to his suite shut. 

He’d dragged you off the dirt into the restricted area, telling Toji and staff NOT to come with him much to their dismay.

Toji only shook his head, a knowing smirk the only response. 

The only thing remotely usable is the couch, and that’s just where Sukuna moves toward, making stops along the way to pin you against various objects, raking his teeth down your jaw and neck while working you both out of your clothes. 

Eventually you make it to the couch, Sukuna down to his hat and jeans, while you’re totally naked. 

You wish you could take a picture of the sight. Sukuna’s already laid down on the couch, propped up against one of the arms, one leg splayed along the length and the other foot resting on the floor. His cowboy hat is still on, tipped back so he can see you with his championship buckle unlatched and barely doing anything to keep his jeans from sliding down his hips, V lines on full display. 

He looks like a damn model, eying you hungrily with a cocky smirk twitching at his lips. His chest and abs, shredded from all the training, now rise and fall from his heavy breaths.

“Take’em off,” you tap his thigh, helping him slide his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his heavy cock from its confines.

Staring down, the heat in your core ignites, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to find some friction. The man eyes you up and down, letting his gaze linger on your tits, licking his lower lip before digging a canine into it.

“Y’gonna just stare or come take it?” he teases, cocking his head.

“Sorry, you’re just…so distracting.”

And incredibly hot knowing he just dismantled the competition after so much time away. 

You shake your head at the stupid words that tumbled out your mouth, but right now, you can’t be bothered to care. 

Moving to straddle him, Sukuna’s cock twitches where it lays on his abs, a spurt of precum coating his skin and soaking his happy trail. 

“Excited?” you tease, coming to straddle his thigh, leaning against the couch. You spit in your hand, reaching down to grip his shaft, letting the sticky evidence of his arousal help you glide up to his tip. 

“Shut up,” Sukuna hisses, involuntarily jerking his cock into your hand. His pupils continue to grow, taking over the reds of his eyes as they dart between you lazily jerking him off and your face. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you coo, speeding up your movements until a wet, squelching sound appears each time your hand squeezes his reddening tip. 

A low groan from Sukuna has you starting to squirm, grinding yourself against his muscular thigh. 

“Shit,” you mutter, feeling your clit catch on a ridge of his quad. The way your slick is pooling all over his skin has your bud sliding easily over the thick muscles. 

The pressure is delicious, the fire in your core rapidly growing. The hotter you get, the more your pussy leaks, just exacerbating the situation. 

Then Sukuna flexes his thigh, and the additional friction has you shuddering, gasping at the bolt of pleasure shooting down your legs. 

“Kuna fuck!” you cry out, momentarily forgetting about his cock throbbing in your hand in favor of riding his thigh now. 

Sukuna doesn’t seem bothered, much more interested in your own pleasure. His hand reaches out to twist your nipple, sneering at the way you’re now shamelessly humping him. The more attention he gives to your tits, the faster you move, his whole thigh now dripping as your arousal starts to coat the couch too. 

He flexes again, pulling another shameless moan from your throat. That simple move puts you on the trajectory towards the point of no return. 

“Keep doin’ that,” you pant just before high pitched whines start to pour out of you. The pool of desire grows and grows like hot water threatening to boil over. 

“You like that huh?” Sukuna’s deep voice rasps in that gritty tone reserved for times like this. “Fuckin’ usin’ me like that?”

You can’t verbalize a response, hoping that biting your lip and nodding your head is enough.

“Keep goin’ baby, wanna see you cum all over me,” he groans, planting one hand on your hip, anchoring you to him to force even more friction and when the other goes for your nipple again, everything goes white.

The tension in your core snaps as hot pleasure erupts throughout your body, giving you such an intense orgasm that you collapse forward like you no longer have a bone in your body. 

“Whoa there baby,” Sukuna catches you before you faceplant on him. His natural musk smells stronger, now realizing he’s lowered you to his chest.

“You need a shower,” you mutter, letting the aftershocks pulse through your body, jerking against the beast of a man beneath you. 

“Nah, that’s how you know you’re fuckin’ a man,” he shifts you around until you feel him prodding at your entrance with finger.

“No!” you sit up, grabbing his wrist and forcing it above his head. 

“No what?” he smirks, not fighting you because lord knows he could’ve overpowered you. 

“Wanna feel you,” you whisper, leaning close to his face, letting your hand support your body by using his wrist as leverage. You push his other arm up over his head, securing them with one hand before reaching between your bodies, hand brushing against his course pubes as you find his throbbing erection.

“Yeah?” he whispers back, kissing your neck while “letting” you restrain him. 

You know this is going to hurt. Sure you’re wet enough, but when he doesn’t finger you, the stretch is insane. You always thought bodies get used to being with thick cocks if you’re with one for a long time, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. While you get used to the feeling of being split open, the burn never really goes away. 

“Ah, shit,” you wince when his thick cockhead breaches your entrance. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” Sukuna sighs, eyes rolling up to stare at the ceiling as he slowly sinks into you. A faint blush dusts his cheeks, offsetting the black ink lining his jaw. 

It takes a few moments of you working yourself up and down his thick length, but finally you both sigh loudly when your ass makes contact with his thighs. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, I love you,” Sukuna groans, grinding his tip against your cervix while you adjust to the incredibly full feeling of your walls wrapping snugly around him. 

That gives you some motivation to start riding him, remembering you’re in a time crunch. 

“We gotta go baby,” he grips your hips, helping support you while you control the pace, the intense friction becoming something more comfortable and pleasurable once you start to mold to his cock.

“I’m tryin’!” you squeal when you find your sweet spot, angling yourself to ride him faster. “You’re too big!”

“Ha-ah, I tried to help ya. Miss independent over here…” he sucks in a breath when you lean back, taking him deeper and giving him a great show, eyes glued to where you are connected. 

“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, spurring you on. Your thighs are starting to ache so you lean forward, planting your hands on his slicked up chest, nails digging into his skin. 

“Sorry, I’m getting tired,” you admit. 

“Tch, poor thing,” Sukuna chuckles, giving your ass a firm smack. 

He takes the hint, tugging you off his lap, cock slapping back against his abs with a wet plop. He repositions himself so both feet are on the ground and he’s sitting upright, turning you around so your back is flush with his chest. 

He hooks his beefy arm under your knees in a full nelson, lifting you up just enough to guide his cock back inside. 

“Lean back, not trying to have anyone else get concussed in this family,” he plants a kiss on your cheek.

Your head lolls back against his upper chest and thank god you do because he begins pounding into you relentlessly. 

“Fuck Kuna!” you cry out, the combination of him immediately drilling your sweet spot and his wet balls slapping against your clit has you hurtling into another realm of pleasure transcending what you experienced earlier. 

“Yeah? Like that?” he utters through grunts and pants in your ear. His vocalizations drive you crazy, loving how he’s never quiet when it comes to you, especially because you can’t see him right now. 

But fuck, you can feel him. Everywhere. His bruising grip on your thighs, hard, sticky chest pressing against your back, heavy breathing in your ear accompanied by the occasional kiss on your neck that ultimately turns into a bite. 

“Ye-yeah, feels good,” you force out, hips starting to move on their own accord as you attempt to meet his thrusts. His fingers come to clamp down on your clit, making you gasp in his arms.

A bolt of heat shoots down your legs, making your whole body jerk as you try to process the additional stimulation. Everything in you is winding up like a coil threatening to snap, body clenching up as you brace yourself-

Until his thrusts come to a halt, the sparks you thought would fly fade into a tingle through your core. Whining with disappointment, you wriggle in his arms, desperate for him to keep going. 

“What-why-“

“Shh, trust me,” he coos. 

He starts to move again, now thrusting slow and deep while dragging lazy circles around your clit to match the pace. Your eyes flutter shut, head falling helplessly against his upper chest. Each languid plunge of his cock into your soaked pussy winds the coil of pleasure once again. This time it’s measured.

Controlled. 

Letting you savor the build up while his fingers bring you closer and closer to the edge. 

You feel like you’re on the edge of a cliff, teetering on the precipice, held on by a single thread that’s going to snap under the tension. 

You can’t take it. 

“Kuna, I-mmph! Su-“

“I know, can feel ya gettin’ close,” he whispers, making you tighten around him even more. The man lets out a guttural groan when you start trembling, the coil seconds from snapping.

One more deep thrust. 

Another.

And then you see white for the second time, body flooded with pleasure as the looming orgasm finally comes. You can barely even utter a sound, like your vocal cords are locked up to divert energy to the rest of your body attempting to contain the heat threatening to burst through your skin. 

Sukuna begins to thrust frantically, slamming you down onto his length, chasing his own release.

“Oh fuck, shit, fuck fuck!” 

He presses his cock into you impossibly deep, filling you with his thick load. Hugging you tight against him, he moans through each pulse, cock twitching through each spurt. 

Your legs feel like jello once he finally releases them, knees splaying out into the couch.

Sukuna’s phone starts buzzing from the pocket of his jeans which are still technically on, but shoved down just enough to be out of the way.

“You’re gonna be late!” your voice perks up, but your body is too tired to do anything about it.

He digs into his back pocket, holding up the phone in front of you both, scrolling through multiple messages essentially saying “where are you?”

“They answer to me, I’ll be there when I’m there,” he tosses the phone to his side, opting to adjust you both so he was laying down on the couch with you balancing the same way on his chest. Your eyes flutter shut, now heavy as your body starts to relax.

His arms wrap around your back, holding you close while pressing light kisses into the top of your head. The buttons of his jeans are hard where they rub up against your waist, but given how tired you feel all of a sudden, you quickly forget about it. 

Another round of buzzing his phone now indicates someone is calling him. 

“Won’t you get in trouble?” you murmur, vaguely remembering something about media commitments being part of his contracts. 

“Tch, I’ll pay the fuckin’ fine,” he snorts.

Your chest feels heavy with the smug weight that settles in. The man would rather pay a fine than stop cuddling you. 

His money his choice.

Sukuna snatches your hand in his, pulling you out of the backseat and onto the sidewalk with him. 

“Ready?” he asks, smoothing out his dress shirt while you do the same to your evening wear outfit. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, earning a small smirk from the man in response.

Tonight is the first time you are publicly accompanying him to an event. As the winner of the bull riding competition earlier today, it was even more imperative that he attend.

Looking toward the building that is now your destination, you see a hoard of people bunched around the front doors. Sukuna’s PR team had warned you both that the paparazzi knew this was the first time he’d be attending something like this with his new girlfriend on his arm.

From where you stand, it’s unclear whether these are just attendees shooting the shit before continuing on inside or people lurking to try to get a glimpse at the famous cowboy’s relationship.

“Woman!”

“Huh?? Why are you raising your voice at me?”

He chuckles, hooking his arm in yours.

“I said your name like four times but you were off in fuckin’ space,” he answers, cocking his head to peer down at you.

“Sorry, was just thinking…”

“Better off not doin’ that right now,” he laughs. “Now com’on.”

You allow him to guide the two of you closer to the commotion. A bourbon company was hosting the post rodeo gathering in a high end lounge on the top of the tall building. Sukuna said these types are the best, way more low key and no forced walking around and mingling in stuffy cocktail attire.

Unfortunately they were requiring the attendees to go through a step and repeat area to get inside, but Sukuna said he’d take care of you.

Shoulders back, stand up straight, and smile. Easy.

Some cameras do flash when you approach, but thankfully they are roped back from actually approaching the two of you. You almost start laughing at how many high pitched squealing voices are calling for Sukuna. It’s ridiculous how desperate they are for an ounce of his attention.

“Damn, you had all these women around the world throwing themselves at you and you chose the one trying to get away from you,” you snicker to him, making him burst out laughing.

“Would’ve been boring, I already think I’m the shit and glaze myself enough, don’t need another person doing it all day,” he flashes you a grin, pulling you into the queue.

Makes sense. In a way you’re the same way with him. Being so different is healthy because it gives you just enough space, independence, and individuality to be your own people so that when you are together, all your focus is on each other and your shared interests.

At the end of the day, you are both two driven, confident people. Clingy partners just wouldn’t fly for either of you.

“Hey now, I do think you’re pretty cool,” you nudge his ribs with your elbow in a playful way.

“I know, you make me work for it though,” he responds.

“Oh, so is the Ryomen Sukuna saying he tries extra hard in hopes of impressing his girlfriend?” you get on your toes to whisper in his ear.

He answers with a shrug and a wink, sending butterflies straight to your stomach. 

“Next!” 

“Our turn, time to look pretty,” Sukuna tugs you along.

Everything feels like a blur. You’re guided to different spots along a backdrop of logos, seemingly for the bourbon company and some others you don’t recognize. Flashes of light temporarily blind you, so you can only hope you are photographing well because there’s definitely no one giving on the spot feedback.

“Sukuna you were practically glowing in the post rodeo press conference, looking happier than we’ve ever seen you! You must be very proud of how you were able to get right back on top after all this time away!” a shrill voice calls out.

Yeah probably because he was getting his dick wet right before he went out there, you internally roll your eyes.

“I never expected anything less from myself,” Sukuna responds cooly, hand slipping around your waist to pull you closer.

“How are you adjusting to becoming rodeo royalty?” another woman calls out to you, surprising you. PR had said you might get called out, but you truly thought Sukuna would be the main focus of everyone this evening.

“Honestly, it’s a lot,” you answer, smiling nervously. The woman responds with a kind laugh but nods, urging you to continue. Sukuna’s thumb rubs circles over your lower back, soothing away some of the nerves.

“But, I’m sure it’ll get easier. I’m with an expert after all, I trust he’ll take care of me,” you chuckle, tilting your head in Sukuna’s direction.

“Yup, and if we do look stupid in front of the camera, at least we can go home and laugh about it together,” Sukuna adds, making everyone laugh, including you.

“Well you both look stunning tonight, and you’re doing great sweetie,” the woman beams before turning to the next group coming behind you.

Once on the other side, you both go off to the side to get your bearings.

“Wow, why were you so happy in the press conference Kuna?” you tease, jabbing him in the ribs.

“I dunno babe, seemed like announcing that I was ‘bustin’ a nut with my girlfriend in a full nelson’ wouldn’t have gone over well, especially with that your first press experience ever,” he blushes, pushing his tongue into his cheek, trying to suppress a smirk.

“Now stop remindin’ me and let’s go, you’re making me get a boner.”

“Sukuna!” you gasp, looking around, noticing a few people scattered about where you are standing. “Watch your mouth!”

“Really don’t think anyone would be shocked to hear I get boners and have sex with you,” he barks, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You just roll your eyes and follow him to the elevator.

The party has a very chill and relaxed vibe, very different from the chaotic scene downstairs. Sukuna immediately gets a bourbon on the rocks while you opt for your drink of choice. You spend time doing a lap around the establishment, Sukuna introducing you to numerous others in the rodeo industry. 

After meeting plenty of competitors, you determine you definitely have the hottest cowboy in the room.

Eventually you both grab a high top table on the periphery, finding it to be a great people watching vantage point.

“Look, buckle bunnies in the wild,” Sukuna points to an area with leather couches near a fireplace.

You look in the direction he gestured, finding three dolled up girls dressed in more revealing clothing. Looking closer, you see another person…

“Is that Gojo?!” you exclaim, recognizing the white hair because who else looks like that.

“Sure is,” Sukuna laughs, taking a long sip of his drink.

“Is that normal for him?”

“Pretty much.”

“Is he missing his partner in crime?” you shoot him a look, a playful lilt in your words.

“Hmph, I’d wingman for him, but rarely partook. I have high standards for where I put my dick, it’s an exclusive privilege,” he cocks a brow, eying you over his glass.

You almost spit your drink out, what an absurd statement.

“God you’re such a pompous ass,” you huff out with a laugh.

“Not sure what you’re laughin’ about, you got immediate access,” he shrugs, giving you a cocky smirk, swirling his drink in his glass before placing it on the table.  

“Wow, grateful, thankful, blessed over here,” you kick his shin under the table, even though deep down he’s by far the best fuck of your life and it’s not even close.

If you let that slip though, his head might explode from his overinflated ego.

It’s late, but you’re finally back at the hotel. You immediately change into your pajamas and head straight to the bathroom to wash your face.

The warm water is soothing, reminding you that a warm bed awaits you on the other side of the door, so the faster you were in here, the sooner you could snuggle up under the covers.

You glance up at your reflection to see if there was anything you missed just to be met with Sukuna leaning against the doorway, arms crossed in a loose t-shirt and his boxers. 

“Can I help you?” you ask, grabbing a dry wash cloth to begin dabbing at the moisture on your skin.

“Nope, just watchin’,” he answers simply, expression and posture remaining unchanged. 

“You like the show?” you giggle, grabbing your moisturizer to finish off your work. Washing your face had to be one of the more boring things he could watch you do.

“I do. It’s special cuz only I get to see, and it means I’m getting closer to one of my favorite parts of the day cuz when you’re done, I'll get to go to bed with you.”

Your chest flutters with butterflies and you swear your vision goes black for just a second, unsure if the universe glitched because you were not expecting him to say something so sweet. 

“Aw, well I’m almost done,” you respond, voice a little shaky, remembering you still had to rub the cream in.

“Very good,” he smiles, eyes blinking heavily before turning around and leaving you to it. 

You’re not far behind, climbing into bed and settling close to his side. Like routine, he pulls you in against his chest, securing you snugly as the little spoon.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” his husky voice rumbles against you. 

“Of course, it was actually kinda fun,” you answer. “Felt nice to go out as a couple, show everyone we’re doing this together…doing life together”

A brief pause follows before he answers.

“Yeah. Life together. I love the sound of that.”

A warmth blooms in your chest, radiating down through your extremities. 

“Me too Kuna,” you sigh, burrowing your face further into his arm. 

Together.

Whether it’s like this, holding each other tight, or miles apart, tethered by your hearts until you can meet again-

It’s your together, a shared future you’re building, and for that, you couldn’t be happier.

It's left open-ended, but my headcannon is that they get married in a cute little country wedding, have some girls, maybe a boy (Sukuna girl dad coded always), and raise their little family on Sukuna's ranch land. Reader and the kids go watch Sukuna compete regularly, but he's cut down greatly on brand deals and sponsorships in favor of much more family time!

This is my fourth(?) story I've finished and I think this Sukuna is easily up there in my favorites! Thank you everyone who read this story, liked/commented, etc! Your support has meant the world.

A montage of that moment flashes up on the screen, making you turn away for a moment. You’ve seen it enough times by now. Even though you didn’t see it live given you were late that day, it was broadcast all over the internet in an endless loop since then, and you weren’t really dying to see it today of all days.

The day where he rides again professionally for the first time.

You knew deep down, there wasn’t a world where he’d never try again. He’s been training like mad for this event, his goal being that he would ride again by the end of the year. His muscle mass was a sight to behold, his mind was sharp, and his old balance and coordination seemed to be back to normal. 

Even though you were downright terrified for him, you knew he wouldn’t go out there if he wasn’t sure. He’d promised you at least that much when he first declared he was going to go for it again. Sukuna knew that this whole experience had been just as much hell on you just as it was him, so he wasn’t keen on putting you through something remotely close to that again.

Turning back to the arena, your eyes drift to the chutes where Sukuna is getting strapped in. The sides are clattering on account of the unruly bull he’s slated to ride. If there was one thing about his debut that scared you, it was that he purposefully chose to ride the toughest bull on the circuit right now. 

To add insult to injury, he still was riding helmetless.

Even Toji had strongly advised to start easier and work his way back up, but since when has Sukuna ever been one to take the easy way out? In his words, what the fuck was the point in showing up if you weren’t going to ride the best? Your eyes must’ve looked on in horror because he immediately gripped your biceps, murmuring to you once again that he wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t ready.

He better be fucking ready, you think to yourself. If he loses his mind again, he might just have to find a new woman to help him gain it all back.

“Nervous?” Gojo asks to your right. He wasn’t riding this weekend, opting to take a break to see Sukuna back on his debut ride. A small entourage accompanied you this time including him and Sukuna’s family in the row behind the two of you. Toji was barking something down into the chute from his position atop the adjacent fence.

“I’d be lying if I said no,” you murmur, burying your face in your hands.

Gojo chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. You appreciate the comfort, finding it almost grounding as your mind starts to race with possibilities. A highlight reel of sorts is running on the big screen, no doubt aiding in hyping up the crowd that was already deafening. 

Sukuna surely was loved in this sport.

“He’s fuckin’ crazy, but that’s what makes him the best,” Gojo lets out a chuckle. “He’ll be just fine.”

“You aren’t just saying that to make me feel better?” you retort, knee bouncing your foot on the metal bleachers. 

“I mean, partially yeah. I’d never admit out loud that he’s the best unless it was for a good reason,” Gojo answers, now making you laugh.

“My uncle’s gonna win!” Yuji’s shrill voice chants at a similar age child, Toji’s son Megumi, who sits next to him. 

“You’ve been sayin’ it all morning,” Megumi snaps back, black hair falling into his eyes.

“Yuji put your drink in the cupholder when you’re done drinking!” Jin’s voice barks just as you notice the soda dripping down the child’s arm from sloshing over the cup sides.

“Sorry dad,” his voice softens, doing as he’s told. “I’m sticky now though, help!” he holds out his arm to his father, earning a grimace from Jin in response.

“Nope, you gotta live with it until Uncle Sukuna is done,” his father smirks at the boy and for a moment you see your own boyfriend in the normally docile man’s face.

Not to say your boyfriend isn’t docile, it's just that it’s usually reserved for something super domestic between the two of you that no one else would see. 

“He’s about to go,” Gojo tugs your sleeve, pulling your attention back to the arena. The dirt is all torn up from the prior riders, and considering Sukuna was saved for last, the competition results hinge on these last eight seconds.

The buzzer sounds, chute flies open, and a mottled white and black bull charges out faster than should be possible. 

Sukuna’s face is pure concentration once the first buck hits him, jerking his body to take the impact of the bull’s back against his own. 

His cowboy hat shifts further up his head, revealing pink strands plastered to his face. Another sharp buck from the animal forces Sukuna to shift to the side, still keeping his free hand from touching the animal and avoiding a penalty.

“Nice!” you hear Wasuke shout from behind you along with murmurs of approval from Gojo and Jin.

You wish you could cheer and shout, but all you can do is watch and pray that each time the bull throws its backside into the air that your cowboy stays on for another second. 

Each thud of the hooves into the earth feels like a beat of your heart hammering in your ears. Your grip on the metal bleacher below is starting to get painful, fingers tensing up under the pressure. 

The buzzer blares, signaling time up. 

Sukuna is still on the bull, starting to detach his riding hand.

Then the crowd roars, chanting his name so loudly that the announcers need to wait to start speaking.

Sukuna vaults himself off the back of the bull, landing gracefully in the dirt, red chaps flapping against his legs from the impact. The bull sees the color immediately, staring down Sukuna and for a moment, your breathing stops. Of course it charges your boyfriend and his stupid choice of color! 

He dodges with ease however, launching himself up onto the arena barriers until the bull is wrangled and ushered out of the ring. 

“What a finish!! The king is back folks, if any of you doubted his return, you can see yourselves out now because Sukuna has just scored a 93.5, taking first place for the night!! He’s won!!”

Sukuna jumps back down, running out to the center of the arena and raising his arms in a motion to pump up the crowd.

And boy does it work, the sound is deafening, Sukuna’s own grin spreads wide as he scans the grandstands, taking it all in. 

You’re up cheering now too, partially that it’s over and he’s alive and also because seeing him in his domain, crushing the competition, makes you more proud than you can describe. 

The whole concept of rodeos isn’t exactly something you love participating in, but seeing the man you love doing what he was born to do, loving every second, makes your chest swell. 

He turns to your section now, sauntering over with a cocky strut until he’s at the edge, beckoning you over to him. 

Startled, you look around like he’s motioning for someone other than you, because you aren’t used to this. It’s the first time he’s acknowledged you publicly post ride, but you figure this is now your new normal.

Running towards the railing, you jump into his arms, letting him pull you into his chest. The hard material of his padding meets your body and the scent of musk and spice from his cologne envelops your senses.

Wrapping your arms around his back, you bury your face into the crook of his neck, letting him do the same. Leather from his hat chafes against your neck, but you hardly notice, opting to squeeze the man as hard as you can.

“I’m so proud of you,” you mutter loudly over the crowd, fingers twisting in his shirt. “You did amazing, I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“Yeah?” he pulls back, voice raspy and eyes lidded as he stares down at you. He carefully positions your feet so you’re standing on his boots, helping you avoid the muddy floor as much as he can.

His hat brushes your forehead as he cocks his head, leaning in to kiss you. It shocks you at first, but you quickly melt into it, kissing him back, keeping it G rated of course. 

The way he nibbles at your lip though, you can tell he’s fighting it. In return, you give him a fast nip on his lower lip and with a dash of your tongue, pull back in a flash. 

The cameras can’t see, but down here, the way his crimson eyes darken is unmistakable. 

“Have like 10 minutes till press,” Sukuna mutters against your mouth, pressing bruising kisses against your lips after kicking the door to his suite shut. 

He’d dragged you off the dirt into the restricted area, telling Toji and staff NOT to come with him much to their dismay.

Toji only shook his head, a knowing smirk the only response. 

The only thing remotely usable is the couch, and that’s just where Sukuna moves toward, making stops along the way to pin you against various objects, raking his teeth down your jaw and neck while working you both out of your clothes. 

Eventually you make it to the couch, Sukuna down to his hat and jeans, while you’re totally naked. 

You wish you could take a picture of the sight. Sukuna’s already laid down on the couch, propped up against one of the arms, one leg splayed along the length and the other foot resting on the floor. His cowboy hat is still on, tipped back so he can see you with his championship buckle unlatched and barely doing anything to keep his jeans from sliding down his hips, V lines on full display. 

He looks like a damn model, eying you hungrily with a cocky smirk twitching at his lips. His chest and abs, shredded from all the training, now rise and fall from his heavy breaths.

“Take’em off,” you tap his thigh, helping him slide his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his heavy cock from its confines.

Staring down, the heat in your core ignites, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to find some friction. The man eyes you up and down, letting his gaze linger on your tits, licking his lower lip before digging a canine into it.

“Y’gonna just stare or come take it?” he teases, cocking his head.

“Sorry, you’re just…so distracting.”

And incredibly hot knowing he just dismantled the competition after so much time away. 

You shake your head at the stupid words that tumbled out your mouth, but right now, you can’t be bothered to care. 

Moving to straddle him, Sukuna’s cock twitches where it lays on his abs, a spurt of precum coating his skin and soaking his happy trail. 

“Excited?” you tease, coming to straddle his thigh, leaning against the couch. You spit in your hand, reaching down to grip his shaft, letting the sticky evidence of his arousal help you glide up to his tip. 

“Shut up,” Sukuna hisses, involuntarily jerking his cock into your hand. His pupils continue to grow, taking over the reds of his eyes as they dart between you lazily jerking him off and your face. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you coo, speeding up your movements until a wet, squelching sound appears each time your hand squeezes his reddening tip. 

A low groan from Sukuna has you starting to squirm, grinding yourself against his muscular thigh. 

“Shit,” you mutter, feeling your clit catch on a ridge of his quad. The way your slick is pooling all over his skin has your bud sliding easily over the thick muscles. 

The pressure is delicious, the fire in your core rapidly growing. The hotter you get, the more your pussy leaks, just exacerbating the situation. 

Then Sukuna flexes his thigh, and the additional friction has you shuddering, gasping at the bolt of pleasure shooting down your legs. 

“Kuna fuck!” you cry out, momentarily forgetting about his cock throbbing in your hand in favor of riding his thigh now. 

Sukuna doesn’t seem bothered, much more interested in your own pleasure. His hand reaches out to twist your nipple, sneering at the way you’re now shamelessly humping him. The more attention he gives to your tits, the faster you move, his whole thigh now dripping as your arousal starts to coat the couch too. 

He flexes again, pulling another shameless moan from your throat. That simple move puts you on the trajectory towards the point of no return. 

“Keep doin’ that,” you pant just before high pitched whines start to pour out of you. The pool of desire grows and grows like hot water threatening to boil over. 

“You like that huh?” Sukuna’s deep voice rasps in that gritty tone reserved for times like this. “Fuckin’ usin’ me like that?”

You can’t verbalize a response, hoping that biting your lip and nodding your head is enough.

“Keep goin’ baby, wanna see you cum all over me,” he groans, planting one hand on your hip, anchoring you to him to force even more friction and when the other goes for your nipple again, everything goes white.

The tension in your core snaps as hot pleasure erupts throughout your body, giving you such an intense orgasm that you collapse forward like you no longer have a bone in your body. 

“Whoa there baby,” Sukuna catches you before you faceplant on him. His natural musk smells stronger, now realizing he’s lowered you to his chest.

“You need a shower,” you mutter, letting the aftershocks pulse through your body, jerking against the beast of a man beneath you. 

“Nah, that’s how you know you’re fuckin’ a man,” he shifts you around until you feel him prodding at your entrance with finger.

“No!” you sit up, grabbing his wrist and forcing it above his head. 

“No what?” he smirks, not fighting you because lord knows he could’ve overpowered you. 

“Wanna feel you,” you whisper, leaning close to his face, letting your hand support your body by using his wrist as leverage. You push his other arm up over his head, securing them with one hand before reaching between your bodies, hand brushing against his course pubes as you find his throbbing erection.

“Yeah?” he whispers back, kissing your neck while “letting” you restrain him. 

You know this is going to hurt. Sure you’re wet enough, but when he doesn’t finger you, the stretch is insane. You always thought bodies get used to being with thick cocks if you’re with one for a long time, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. While you get used to the feeling of being split open, the burn never really goes away. 

“Ah, shit,” you wince when his thick cockhead breaches your entrance. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” Sukuna sighs, eyes rolling up to stare at the ceiling as he slowly sinks into you. A faint blush dusts his cheeks, offsetting the black ink lining his jaw. 

It takes a few moments of you working yourself up and down his thick length, but finally you both sigh loudly when your ass makes contact with his thighs. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, I love you,” Sukuna groans, grinding his tip against your cervix while you adjust to the incredibly full feeling of your walls wrapping snugly around him. 

That gives you some motivation to start riding him, remembering you’re in a time crunch. 

“We gotta go baby,” he grips your hips, helping support you while you control the pace, the intense friction becoming something more comfortable and pleasurable once you start to mold to his cock.

“I’m tryin’!” you squeal when you find your sweet spot, angling yourself to ride him faster. “You’re too big!”

“Ha-ah, I tried to help ya. Miss independent over here…” he sucks in a breath when you lean back, taking him deeper and giving him a great show, eyes glued to where you are connected. 

“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, spurring you on. Your thighs are starting to ache so you lean forward, planting your hands on his slicked up chest, nails digging into his skin. 

“Sorry, I’m getting tired,” you admit. 

“Tch, poor thing,” Sukuna chuckles, giving your ass a firm smack. 

He takes the hint, tugging you off his lap, cock slapping back against his abs with a wet plop. He repositions himself so both feet are on the ground and he’s sitting upright, turning you around so your back is flush with his chest. 

He hooks his beefy arm under your knees in a full nelson, lifting you up just enough to guide his cock back inside. 

“Lean back, not trying to have anyone else get concussed in this family,” he plants a kiss on your cheek.

Your head lolls back against his upper chest and thank god you do because he begins pounding into you relentlessly. 

“Fuck Kuna!” you cry out, the combination of him immediately drilling your sweet spot and his wet balls slapping against your clit has you hurtling into another realm of pleasure transcending what you experienced earlier. 

“Yeah? Like that?” he utters through grunts and pants in your ear. His vocalizations drive you crazy, loving how he’s never quiet when it comes to you, especially because you can’t see him right now. 

But fuck, you can feel him. Everywhere. His bruising grip on your thighs, hard, sticky chest pressing against your back, heavy breathing in your ear accompanied by the occasional kiss on your neck that ultimately turns into a bite. 

“Ye-yeah, feels good,” you force out, hips starting to move on their own accord as you attempt to meet his thrusts. His fingers come to clamp down on your clit, making you gasp in his arms.

A bolt of heat shoots down your legs, making your whole body jerk as you try to process the additional stimulation. Everything in you is winding up like a coil threatening to snap, body clenching up as you brace yourself-

Until his thrusts come to a halt, the sparks you thought would fly fade into a tingle through your core. Whining with disappointment, you wriggle in his arms, desperate for him to keep going. 

“What-why-“

“Shh, trust me,” he coos. 

He starts to move again, now thrusting slow and deep while dragging lazy circles around your clit to match the pace. Your eyes flutter shut, head falling helplessly against his upper chest. Each languid plunge of his cock into your soaked pussy winds the coil of pleasure once again. This time it’s measured.

Controlled. 

Letting you savor the build up while his fingers bring you closer and closer to the edge. 

You feel like you’re on the edge of a cliff, teetering on the precipice, held on by a single thread that’s going to snap under the tension. 

You can’t take it. 

“Kuna, I-mmph! Su-“

“I know, can feel ya gettin’ close,” he whispers, making you tighten around him even more. The man lets out a guttural groan when you start trembling, the coil seconds from snapping.

One more deep thrust. 

Another.

And then you see white for the second time, body flooded with pleasure as the looming orgasm finally comes. You can barely even utter a sound, like your vocal cords are locked up to divert energy to the rest of your body attempting to contain the heat threatening to burst through your skin. 

Sukuna begins to thrust frantically, slamming you down onto his length, chasing his own release.

“Oh fuck, shit, fuck fuck!” 

He presses his cock into you impossibly deep, filling you with his thick load. Hugging you tight against him, he moans through each pulse, cock twitching through each spurt. 

Your legs feel like jello once he finally releases them, knees splaying out into the couch.

Sukuna’s phone starts buzzing from the pocket of his jeans which are still technically on, but shoved down just enough to be out of the way.

“You’re gonna be late!” your voice perks up, but your body is too tired to do anything about it.

He digs into his back pocket, holding up the phone in front of you both, scrolling through multiple messages essentially saying “where are you?”

“They answer to me, I’ll be there when I’m there,” he tosses the phone to his side, opting to adjust you both so he was laying down on the couch with you balancing the same way on his chest. Your eyes flutter shut, now heavy as your body starts to relax.

His arms wrap around your back, holding you close while pressing light kisses into the top of your head. The buttons of his jeans are hard where they rub up against your waist, but given how tired you feel all of a sudden, you quickly forget about it. 

Another round of buzzing his phone now indicates someone is calling him. 

“Won’t you get in trouble?” you murmur, vaguely remembering something about media commitments being part of his contracts. 

“Tch, I’ll pay the fuckin’ fine,” he snorts.

Your chest feels heavy with the smug weight that settles in. The man would rather pay a fine than stop cuddling you. 

His money his choice.

Sukuna snatches your hand in his, pulling you out of the backseat and onto the sidewalk with him. 

“Ready?” he asks, smoothing out his dress shirt while you do the same to your evening wear outfit. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, earning a small smirk from the man in response.

Tonight is the first time you are publicly accompanying him to an event. As the winner of the bull riding competition earlier today, it was even more imperative that he attend.

Looking toward the building that is now your destination, you see a hoard of people bunched around the front doors. Sukuna’s PR team had warned you both that the paparazzi knew this was the first time he’d be attending something like this with his new girlfriend on his arm.

From where you stand, it’s unclear whether these are just attendees shooting the shit before continuing on inside or people lurking to try to get a glimpse at the famous cowboy’s relationship.

“Woman!”

“Huh?? Why are you raising your voice at me?”

He chuckles, hooking his arm in yours.

“I said your name like four times but you were off in fuckin’ space,” he answers, cocking his head to peer down at you.

“Sorry, was just thinking…”

“Better off not doin’ that right now,” he laughs. “Now com’on.”

You allow him to guide the two of you closer to the commotion. A bourbon company was hosting the post rodeo gathering in a high end lounge on the top of the tall building. Sukuna said these types are the best, way more low key and no forced walking around and mingling in stuffy cocktail attire.

Unfortunately they were requiring the attendees to go through a step and repeat area to get inside, but Sukuna said he’d take care of you.

Shoulders back, stand up straight, and smile. Easy.

Some cameras do flash when you approach, but thankfully they are roped back from actually approaching the two of you. You almost start laughing at how many high pitched squealing voices are calling for Sukuna. It’s ridiculous how desperate they are for an ounce of his attention.

“Damn, you had all these women around the world throwing themselves at you and you chose the one trying to get away from you,” you snicker to him, making him burst out laughing.

“Would’ve been boring, I already think I’m the shit and glaze myself enough, don’t need another person doing it all day,” he flashes you a grin, pulling you into the queue.

Makes sense. In a way you’re the same way with him. Being so different is healthy because it gives you just enough space, independence, and individuality to be your own people so that when you are together, all your focus is on each other and your shared interests.

At the end of the day, you are both two driven, confident people. Clingy partners just wouldn’t fly for either of you.

“Hey now, I do think you’re pretty cool,” you nudge his ribs with your elbow in a playful way.

“I know, you make me work for it though,” he responds.

“Oh, so is the Ryomen Sukuna saying he tries extra hard in hopes of impressing his girlfriend?” you get on your toes to whisper in his ear.

He answers with a shrug and a wink, sending butterflies straight to your stomach. 

“Next!” 

“Our turn, time to look pretty,” Sukuna tugs you along.

Everything feels like a blur. You’re guided to different spots along a backdrop of logos, seemingly for the bourbon company and some others you don’t recognize. Flashes of light temporarily blind you, so you can only hope you are photographing well because there’s definitely no one giving on the spot feedback.

“Sukuna you were practically glowing in the post rodeo press conference, looking happier than we’ve ever seen you! You must be very proud of how you were able to get right back on top after all this time away!” a shrill voice calls out.

Yeah probably because he was getting his dick wet right before he went out there, you internally roll your eyes.

“I never expected anything less from myself,” Sukuna responds cooly, hand slipping around your waist to pull you closer.

“How are you adjusting to becoming rodeo royalty?” another woman calls out to you, surprising you. PR had said you might get called out, but you truly thought Sukuna would be the main focus of everyone this evening.

“Honestly, it’s a lot,” you answer, smiling nervously. The woman responds with a kind laugh but nods, urging you to continue. Sukuna’s thumb rubs circles over your lower back, soothing away some of the nerves.

“But, I’m sure it’ll get easier. I’m with an expert after all, I trust he’ll take care of me,” you chuckle, tilting your head in Sukuna’s direction.

“Yup, and if we do look stupid in front of the camera, at least we can go home and laugh about it together,” Sukuna adds, making everyone laugh, including you.

“Well you both look stunning tonight, and you’re doing great sweetie,” the woman beams before turning to the next group coming behind you.

Once on the other side, you both go off to the side to get your bearings.

“Wow, why were you so happy in the press conference Kuna?” you tease, jabbing him in the ribs.

“I dunno babe, seemed like announcing that I was ‘bustin’ a nut with my girlfriend in a full nelson’ wouldn’t have gone over well, especially with that your first press experience ever,” he blushes, pushing his tongue into his cheek, trying to suppress a smirk.

“Now stop remindin’ me and let’s go, you’re making me get a boner.”

“Sukuna!” you gasp, looking around, noticing a few people scattered about where you are standing. “Watch your mouth!”

“Really don’t think anyone would be shocked to hear I get boners and have sex with you,” he barks, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You just roll your eyes and follow him to the elevator.

The party has a very chill and relaxed vibe, very different from the chaotic scene downstairs. Sukuna immediately gets a bourbon on the rocks while you opt for your drink of choice. You spend time doing a lap around the establishment, Sukuna introducing you to numerous others in the rodeo industry. 

After meeting plenty of competitors, you determine you definitely have the hottest cowboy in the room.

Eventually you both grab a high top table on the periphery, finding it to be a great people watching vantage point.

“Look, buckle bunnies in the wild,” Sukuna points to an area with leather couches near a fireplace.

You look in the direction he gestured, finding three dolled up girls dressed in more revealing clothing. Looking closer, you see another person…

“Is that Gojo?!” you exclaim, recognizing the white hair because who else looks like that.

“Sure is,” Sukuna laughs, taking a long sip of his drink.

“Is that normal for him?”

“Pretty much.”

“Is he missing his partner in crime?” you shoot him a look, a playful lilt in your words.

“Hmph, I’d wingman for him, but rarely partook. I have high standards for where I put my dick, it’s an exclusive privilege,” he cocks a brow, eying you over his glass.

You almost spit your drink out, what an absurd statement.

“God you’re such a pompous ass,” you huff out with a laugh.

“Not sure what you’re laughin’ about, you got immediate access,” he shrugs, giving you a cocky smirk, swirling his drink in his glass before placing it on the table.  

“Wow, grateful, thankful, blessed over here,” you kick his shin under the table, even though deep down he’s by far the best fuck of your life and it’s not even close.

If you let that slip though, his head might explode from his overinflated ego.

It’s late, but you’re finally back at the hotel. You immediately change into your pajamas and head straight to the bathroom to wash your face.

The warm water is soothing, reminding you that a warm bed awaits you on the other side of the door, so the faster you were in here, the sooner you could snuggle up under the covers.

You glance up at your reflection to see if there was anything you missed just to be met with Sukuna leaning against the doorway, arms crossed in a loose t-shirt and his boxers. 

“Can I help you?” you ask, grabbing a dry wash cloth to begin dabbing at the moisture on your skin.

“Nope, just watchin’,” he answers simply, expression and posture remaining unchanged. 

“You like the show?” you giggle, grabbing your moisturizer to finish off your work. Washing your face had to be one of the more boring things he could watch you do.

“I do. It’s special cuz only I get to see, and it means I’m getting closer to one of my favorite parts of the day cuz when you’re done, I'll get to go to bed with you.”

Your chest flutters with butterflies and you swear your vision goes black for just a second, unsure if the universe glitched because you were not expecting him to say something so sweet. 

“Aw, well I’m almost done,” you respond, voice a little shaky, remembering you still had to rub the cream in.

“Very good,” he smiles, eyes blinking heavily before turning around and leaving you to it. 

You’re not far behind, climbing into bed and settling close to his side. Like routine, he pulls you in against his chest, securing you snugly as the little spoon.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” his husky voice rumbles against you. 

“Of course, it was actually kinda fun,” you answer. “Felt nice to go out as a couple, show everyone we’re doing this together…doing life together”

A brief pause follows before he answers.

“Yeah. Life together. I love the sound of that.”

A warmth blooms in your chest, radiating down through your extremities. 

“Me too Kuna,” you sigh, burrowing your face further into his arm. 

Together.

Whether it’s like this, holding each other tight, or miles apart, tethered by your hearts until you can meet again-

It’s your together, a shared future you’re building, and for that, you couldn’t be happier.

It's left open-ended, but my headcannon is that they get married in a cute little country wedding, have some girls, maybe a boy (Sukuna girl dad coded always), and raise their little family on Sukuna's ranch land. Reader and the kids go watch Sukuna compete regularly, but he's cut down greatly on brand deals and sponsorships in favor of much more family time!

This is my fourth(?) story I've finished and I think this Sukuna is easily up there in my favorites! Thank you everyone who read this story, liked/commented, etc! Your support has meant the world.

A montage of that moment flashes up on the screen, making you turn away for a moment. You’ve seen it enough times by now. Even though you didn’t see it live given you were late that day, it was broadcast all over the internet in an endless loop since then, and you weren’t really dying to see it today of all days.

The day where he rides again professionally for the first time.

You knew deep down, there wasn’t a world where he’d never try again. He’s been training like mad for this event, his goal being that he would ride again by the end of the year. His muscle mass was a sight to behold, his mind was sharp, and his old balance and coordination seemed to be back to normal. 

Even though you were downright terrified for him, you knew he wouldn’t go out there if he wasn’t sure. He’d promised you at least that much when he first declared he was going to go for it again. Sukuna knew that this whole experience had been just as much hell on you just as it was him, so he wasn’t keen on putting you through something remotely close to that again.

Turning back to the arena, your eyes drift to the chutes where Sukuna is getting strapped in. The sides are clattering on account of the unruly bull he’s slated to ride. If there was one thing about his debut that scared you, it was that he purposefully chose to ride the toughest bull on the circuit right now. 

To add insult to injury, he still was riding helmetless.

Even Toji had strongly advised to start easier and work his way back up, but since when has Sukuna ever been one to take the easy way out? In his words, what the fuck was the point in showing up if you weren’t going to ride the best? Your eyes must’ve looked on in horror because he immediately gripped your biceps, murmuring to you once again that he wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t ready.

He better be fucking ready, you think to yourself. If he loses his mind again, he might just have to find a new woman to help him gain it all back.

“Nervous?” Gojo asks to your right. He wasn’t riding this weekend, opting to take a break to see Sukuna back on his debut ride. A small entourage accompanied you this time including him and Sukuna’s family in the row behind the two of you. Toji was barking something down into the chute from his position atop the adjacent fence.

“I’d be lying if I said no,” you murmur, burying your face in your hands.

Gojo chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. You appreciate the comfort, finding it almost grounding as your mind starts to race with possibilities. A highlight reel of sorts is running on the big screen, no doubt aiding in hyping up the crowd that was already deafening. 

Sukuna surely was loved in this sport.

“He’s fuckin’ crazy, but that’s what makes him the best,” Gojo lets out a chuckle. “He’ll be just fine.”

“You aren’t just saying that to make me feel better?” you retort, knee bouncing your foot on the metal bleachers. 

“I mean, partially yeah. I’d never admit out loud that he’s the best unless it was for a good reason,” Gojo answers, now making you laugh.

“My uncle’s gonna win!” Yuji’s shrill voice chants at a similar age child, Toji’s son Megumi, who sits next to him. 

“You’ve been sayin’ it all morning,” Megumi snaps back, black hair falling into his eyes.

“Yuji put your drink in the cupholder when you’re done drinking!” Jin’s voice barks just as you notice the soda dripping down the child’s arm from sloshing over the cup sides.

“Sorry dad,” his voice softens, doing as he’s told. “I’m sticky now though, help!” he holds out his arm to his father, earning a grimace from Jin in response.

“Nope, you gotta live with it until Uncle Sukuna is done,” his father smirks at the boy and for a moment you see your own boyfriend in the normally docile man’s face.

Not to say your boyfriend isn’t docile, it's just that it’s usually reserved for something super domestic between the two of you that no one else would see. 

“He’s about to go,” Gojo tugs your sleeve, pulling your attention back to the arena. The dirt is all torn up from the prior riders, and considering Sukuna was saved for last, the competition results hinge on these last eight seconds.

The buzzer sounds, chute flies open, and a mottled white and black bull charges out faster than should be possible. 

Sukuna’s face is pure concentration once the first buck hits him, jerking his body to take the impact of the bull’s back against his own. 

His cowboy hat shifts further up his head, revealing pink strands plastered to his face. Another sharp buck from the animal forces Sukuna to shift to the side, still keeping his free hand from touching the animal and avoiding a penalty.

“Nice!” you hear Wasuke shout from behind you along with murmurs of approval from Gojo and Jin.

You wish you could cheer and shout, but all you can do is watch and pray that each time the bull throws its backside into the air that your cowboy stays on for another second. 

Each thud of the hooves into the earth feels like a beat of your heart hammering in your ears. Your grip on the metal bleacher below is starting to get painful, fingers tensing up under the pressure. 

The buzzer blares, signaling time up. 

Sukuna is still on the bull, starting to detach his riding hand.

Then the crowd roars, chanting his name so loudly that the announcers need to wait to start speaking.

Sukuna vaults himself off the back of the bull, landing gracefully in the dirt, red chaps flapping against his legs from the impact. The bull sees the color immediately, staring down Sukuna and for a moment, your breathing stops. Of course it charges your boyfriend and his stupid choice of color! 

He dodges with ease however, launching himself up onto the arena barriers until the bull is wrangled and ushered out of the ring. 

“What a finish!! The king is back folks, if any of you doubted his return, you can see yourselves out now because Sukuna has just scored a 93.5, taking first place for the night!! He’s won!!”

Sukuna jumps back down, running out to the center of the arena and raising his arms in a motion to pump up the crowd.

And boy does it work, the sound is deafening, Sukuna’s own grin spreads wide as he scans the grandstands, taking it all in. 

You’re up cheering now too, partially that it’s over and he’s alive and also because seeing him in his domain, crushing the competition, makes you more proud than you can describe. 

The whole concept of rodeos isn’t exactly something you love participating in, but seeing the man you love doing what he was born to do, loving every second, makes your chest swell. 

He turns to your section now, sauntering over with a cocky strut until he’s at the edge, beckoning you over to him. 

Startled, you look around like he’s motioning for someone other than you, because you aren’t used to this. It’s the first time he’s acknowledged you publicly post ride, but you figure this is now your new normal.

Running towards the railing, you jump into his arms, letting him pull you into his chest. The hard material of his padding meets your body and the scent of musk and spice from his cologne envelops your senses.

Wrapping your arms around his back, you bury your face into the crook of his neck, letting him do the same. Leather from his hat chafes against your neck, but you hardly notice, opting to squeeze the man as hard as you can.

“I’m so proud of you,” you mutter loudly over the crowd, fingers twisting in his shirt. “You did amazing, I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“Yeah?” he pulls back, voice raspy and eyes lidded as he stares down at you. He carefully positions your feet so you’re standing on his boots, helping you avoid the muddy floor as much as he can.

His hat brushes your forehead as he cocks his head, leaning in to kiss you. It shocks you at first, but you quickly melt into it, kissing him back, keeping it G rated of course. 

The way he nibbles at your lip though, you can tell he’s fighting it. In return, you give him a fast nip on his lower lip and with a dash of your tongue, pull back in a flash. 

The cameras can’t see, but down here, the way his crimson eyes darken is unmistakable. 

“Have like 10 minutes till press,” Sukuna mutters against your mouth, pressing bruising kisses against your lips after kicking the door to his suite shut. 

He’d dragged you off the dirt into the restricted area, telling Toji and staff NOT to come with him much to their dismay.

Toji only shook his head, a knowing smirk the only response. 

The only thing remotely usable is the couch, and that’s just where Sukuna moves toward, making stops along the way to pin you against various objects, raking his teeth down your jaw and neck while working you both out of your clothes. 

Eventually you make it to the couch, Sukuna down to his hat and jeans, while you’re totally naked. 

You wish you could take a picture of the sight. Sukuna’s already laid down on the couch, propped up against one of the arms, one leg splayed along the length and the other foot resting on the floor. His cowboy hat is still on, tipped back so he can see you with his championship buckle unlatched and barely doing anything to keep his jeans from sliding down his hips, V lines on full display. 

He looks like a damn model, eying you hungrily with a cocky smirk twitching at his lips. His chest and abs, shredded from all the training, now rise and fall from his heavy breaths.

“Take’em off,” you tap his thigh, helping him slide his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his heavy cock from its confines.

Staring down, the heat in your core ignites, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to find some friction. The man eyes you up and down, letting his gaze linger on your tits, licking his lower lip before digging a canine into it.

“Y’gonna just stare or come take it?” he teases, cocking his head.

“Sorry, you’re just…so distracting.”

And incredibly hot knowing he just dismantled the competition after so much time away. 

You shake your head at the stupid words that tumbled out your mouth, but right now, you can’t be bothered to care. 

Moving to straddle him, Sukuna’s cock twitches where it lays on his abs, a spurt of precum coating his skin and soaking his happy trail. 

“Excited?” you tease, coming to straddle his thigh, leaning against the couch. You spit in your hand, reaching down to grip his shaft, letting the sticky evidence of his arousal help you glide up to his tip. 

“Shut up,” Sukuna hisses, involuntarily jerking his cock into your hand. His pupils continue to grow, taking over the reds of his eyes as they dart between you lazily jerking him off and your face. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you coo, speeding up your movements until a wet, squelching sound appears each time your hand squeezes his reddening tip. 

A low groan from Sukuna has you starting to squirm, grinding yourself against his muscular thigh. 

“Shit,” you mutter, feeling your clit catch on a ridge of his quad. The way your slick is pooling all over his skin has your bud sliding easily over the thick muscles. 

The pressure is delicious, the fire in your core rapidly growing. The hotter you get, the more your pussy leaks, just exacerbating the situation. 

Then Sukuna flexes his thigh, and the additional friction has you shuddering, gasping at the bolt of pleasure shooting down your legs. 

“Kuna fuck!” you cry out, momentarily forgetting about his cock throbbing in your hand in favor of riding his thigh now. 

Sukuna doesn’t seem bothered, much more interested in your own pleasure. His hand reaches out to twist your nipple, sneering at the way you’re now shamelessly humping him. The more attention he gives to your tits, the faster you move, his whole thigh now dripping as your arousal starts to coat the couch too. 

He flexes again, pulling another shameless moan from your throat. That simple move puts you on the trajectory towards the point of no return. 

“Keep doin’ that,” you pant just before high pitched whines start to pour out of you. The pool of desire grows and grows like hot water threatening to boil over. 

“You like that huh?” Sukuna’s deep voice rasps in that gritty tone reserved for times like this. “Fuckin’ usin’ me like that?”

You can’t verbalize a response, hoping that biting your lip and nodding your head is enough.

“Keep goin’ baby, wanna see you cum all over me,” he groans, planting one hand on your hip, anchoring you to him to force even more friction and when the other goes for your nipple again, everything goes white.

The tension in your core snaps as hot pleasure erupts throughout your body, giving you such an intense orgasm that you collapse forward like you no longer have a bone in your body. 

“Whoa there baby,” Sukuna catches you before you faceplant on him. His natural musk smells stronger, now realizing he’s lowered you to his chest.

“You need a shower,” you mutter, letting the aftershocks pulse through your body, jerking against the beast of a man beneath you. 

“Nah, that’s how you know you’re fuckin’ a man,” he shifts you around until you feel him prodding at your entrance with finger.

“No!” you sit up, grabbing his wrist and forcing it above his head. 

“No what?” he smirks, not fighting you because lord knows he could’ve overpowered you. 

“Wanna feel you,” you whisper, leaning close to his face, letting your hand support your body by using his wrist as leverage. You push his other arm up over his head, securing them with one hand before reaching between your bodies, hand brushing against his course pubes as you find his throbbing erection.

“Yeah?” he whispers back, kissing your neck while “letting” you restrain him. 

You know this is going to hurt. Sure you’re wet enough, but when he doesn’t finger you, the stretch is insane. You always thought bodies get used to being with thick cocks if you’re with one for a long time, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. While you get used to the feeling of being split open, the burn never really goes away. 

“Ah, shit,” you wince when his thick cockhead breaches your entrance. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” Sukuna sighs, eyes rolling up to stare at the ceiling as he slowly sinks into you. A faint blush dusts his cheeks, offsetting the black ink lining his jaw. 

It takes a few moments of you working yourself up and down his thick length, but finally you both sigh loudly when your ass makes contact with his thighs. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, I love you,” Sukuna groans, grinding his tip against your cervix while you adjust to the incredibly full feeling of your walls wrapping snugly around him. 

That gives you some motivation to start riding him, remembering you’re in a time crunch. 

“We gotta go baby,” he grips your hips, helping support you while you control the pace, the intense friction becoming something more comfortable and pleasurable once you start to mold to his cock.

“I’m tryin’!” you squeal when you find your sweet spot, angling yourself to ride him faster. “You’re too big!”

“Ha-ah, I tried to help ya. Miss independent over here…” he sucks in a breath when you lean back, taking him deeper and giving him a great show, eyes glued to where you are connected. 

“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, spurring you on. Your thighs are starting to ache so you lean forward, planting your hands on his slicked up chest, nails digging into his skin. 

“Sorry, I’m getting tired,” you admit. 

“Tch, poor thing,” Sukuna chuckles, giving your ass a firm smack. 

He takes the hint, tugging you off his lap, cock slapping back against his abs with a wet plop. He repositions himself so both feet are on the ground and he’s sitting upright, turning you around so your back is flush with his chest. 

He hooks his beefy arm under your knees in a full nelson, lifting you up just enough to guide his cock back inside. 

“Lean back, not trying to have anyone else get concussed in this family,” he plants a kiss on your cheek.

Your head lolls back against his upper chest and thank god you do because he begins pounding into you relentlessly. 

“Fuck Kuna!” you cry out, the combination of him immediately drilling your sweet spot and his wet balls slapping against your clit has you hurtling into another realm of pleasure transcending what you experienced earlier. 

“Yeah? Like that?” he utters through grunts and pants in your ear. His vocalizations drive you crazy, loving how he’s never quiet when it comes to you, especially because you can’t see him right now. 

But fuck, you can feel him. Everywhere. His bruising grip on your thighs, hard, sticky chest pressing against your back, heavy breathing in your ear accompanied by the occasional kiss on your neck that ultimately turns into a bite. 

“Ye-yeah, feels good,” you force out, hips starting to move on their own accord as you attempt to meet his thrusts. His fingers come to clamp down on your clit, making you gasp in his arms.

A bolt of heat shoots down your legs, making your whole body jerk as you try to process the additional stimulation. Everything in you is winding up like a coil threatening to snap, body clenching up as you brace yourself-

Until his thrusts come to a halt, the sparks you thought would fly fade into a tingle through your core. Whining with disappointment, you wriggle in his arms, desperate for him to keep going. 

“What-why-“

“Shh, trust me,” he coos. 

He starts to move again, now thrusting slow and deep while dragging lazy circles around your clit to match the pace. Your eyes flutter shut, head falling helplessly against his upper chest. Each languid plunge of his cock into your soaked pussy winds the coil of pleasure once again. This time it’s measured.

Controlled. 

Letting you savor the build up while his fingers bring you closer and closer to the edge. 

You feel like you’re on the edge of a cliff, teetering on the precipice, held on by a single thread that’s going to snap under the tension. 

You can’t take it. 

“Kuna, I-mmph! Su-“

“I know, can feel ya gettin’ close,” he whispers, making you tighten around him even more. The man lets out a guttural groan when you start trembling, the coil seconds from snapping.

One more deep thrust. 

Another.

And then you see white for the second time, body flooded with pleasure as the looming orgasm finally comes. You can barely even utter a sound, like your vocal cords are locked up to divert energy to the rest of your body attempting to contain the heat threatening to burst through your skin. 

Sukuna begins to thrust frantically, slamming you down onto his length, chasing his own release.

“Oh fuck, shit, fuck fuck!” 

He presses his cock into you impossibly deep, filling you with his thick load. Hugging you tight against him, he moans through each pulse, cock twitching through each spurt. 

Your legs feel like jello once he finally releases them, knees splaying out into the couch.

Sukuna’s phone starts buzzing from the pocket of his jeans which are still technically on, but shoved down just enough to be out of the way.

“You’re gonna be late!” your voice perks up, but your body is too tired to do anything about it.

He digs into his back pocket, holding up the phone in front of you both, scrolling through multiple messages essentially saying “where are you?”

“They answer to me, I’ll be there when I’m there,” he tosses the phone to his side, opting to adjust you both so he was laying down on the couch with you balancing the same way on his chest. Your eyes flutter shut, now heavy as your body starts to relax.

His arms wrap around your back, holding you close while pressing light kisses into the top of your head. The buttons of his jeans are hard where they rub up against your waist, but given how tired you feel all of a sudden, you quickly forget about it. 

Another round of buzzing his phone now indicates someone is calling him. 

“Won’t you get in trouble?” you murmur, vaguely remembering something about media commitments being part of his contracts. 

“Tch, I’ll pay the fuckin’ fine,” he snorts.

Your chest feels heavy with the smug weight that settles in. The man would rather pay a fine than stop cuddling you. 

His money his choice.

Sukuna snatches your hand in his, pulling you out of the backseat and onto the sidewalk with him. 

“Ready?” he asks, smoothing out his dress shirt while you do the same to your evening wear outfit. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, earning a small smirk from the man in response.

Tonight is the first time you are publicly accompanying him to an event. As the winner of the bull riding competition earlier today, it was even more imperative that he attend.

Looking toward the building that is now your destination, you see a hoard of people bunched around the front doors. Sukuna’s PR team had warned you both that the paparazzi knew this was the first time he’d be attending something like this with his new girlfriend on his arm.

From where you stand, it’s unclear whether these are just attendees shooting the shit before continuing on inside or people lurking to try to get a glimpse at the famous cowboy’s relationship.

“Woman!”

“Huh?? Why are you raising your voice at me?”

He chuckles, hooking his arm in yours.

“I said your name like four times but you were off in fuckin’ space,” he answers, cocking his head to peer down at you.

“Sorry, was just thinking…”

“Better off not doin’ that right now,” he laughs. “Now com’on.”

You allow him to guide the two of you closer to the commotion. A bourbon company was hosting the post rodeo gathering in a high end lounge on the top of the tall building. Sukuna said these types are the best, way more low key and no forced walking around and mingling in stuffy cocktail attire.

Unfortunately they were requiring the attendees to go through a step and repeat area to get inside, but Sukuna said he’d take care of you.

Shoulders back, stand up straight, and smile. Easy.

Some cameras do flash when you approach, but thankfully they are roped back from actually approaching the two of you. You almost start laughing at how many high pitched squealing voices are calling for Sukuna. It’s ridiculous how desperate they are for an ounce of his attention.

“Damn, you had all these women around the world throwing themselves at you and you chose the one trying to get away from you,” you snicker to him, making him burst out laughing.

“Would’ve been boring, I already think I’m the shit and glaze myself enough, don’t need another person doing it all day,” he flashes you a grin, pulling you into the queue.

Makes sense. In a way you’re the same way with him. Being so different is healthy because it gives you just enough space, independence, and individuality to be your own people so that when you are together, all your focus is on each other and your shared interests.

At the end of the day, you are both two driven, confident people. Clingy partners just wouldn’t fly for either of you.

“Hey now, I do think you’re pretty cool,” you nudge his ribs with your elbow in a playful way.

“I know, you make me work for it though,” he responds.

“Oh, so is the Ryomen Sukuna saying he tries extra hard in hopes of impressing his girlfriend?” you get on your toes to whisper in his ear.

He answers with a shrug and a wink, sending butterflies straight to your stomach. 

“Next!” 

“Our turn, time to look pretty,” Sukuna tugs you along.

Everything feels like a blur. You’re guided to different spots along a backdrop of logos, seemingly for the bourbon company and some others you don’t recognize. Flashes of light temporarily blind you, so you can only hope you are photographing well because there’s definitely no one giving on the spot feedback.

“Sukuna you were practically glowing in the post rodeo press conference, looking happier than we’ve ever seen you! You must be very proud of how you were able to get right back on top after all this time away!” a shrill voice calls out.

Yeah probably because he was getting his dick wet right before he went out there, you internally roll your eyes.

“I never expected anything less from myself,” Sukuna responds cooly, hand slipping around your waist to pull you closer.

“How are you adjusting to becoming rodeo royalty?” another woman calls out to you, surprising you. PR had said you might get called out, but you truly thought Sukuna would be the main focus of everyone this evening.

“Honestly, it’s a lot,” you answer, smiling nervously. The woman responds with a kind laugh but nods, urging you to continue. Sukuna’s thumb rubs circles over your lower back, soothing away some of the nerves.

“But, I’m sure it’ll get easier. I’m with an expert after all, I trust he’ll take care of me,” you chuckle, tilting your head in Sukuna’s direction.

“Yup, and if we do look stupid in front of the camera, at least we can go home and laugh about it together,” Sukuna adds, making everyone laugh, including you.

“Well you both look stunning tonight, and you’re doing great sweetie,” the woman beams before turning to the next group coming behind you.

Once on the other side, you both go off to the side to get your bearings.

“Wow, why were you so happy in the press conference Kuna?” you tease, jabbing him in the ribs.

“I dunno babe, seemed like announcing that I was ‘bustin’ a nut with my girlfriend in a full nelson’ wouldn’t have gone over well, especially with that your first press experience ever,” he blushes, pushing his tongue into his cheek, trying to suppress a smirk.

“Now stop remindin’ me and let’s go, you’re making me get a boner.”

“Sukuna!” you gasp, looking around, noticing a few people scattered about where you are standing. “Watch your mouth!”

“Really don’t think anyone would be shocked to hear I get boners and have sex with you,” he barks, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You just roll your eyes and follow him to the elevator.

The party has a very chill and relaxed vibe, very different from the chaotic scene downstairs. Sukuna immediately gets a bourbon on the rocks while you opt for your drink of choice. You spend time doing a lap around the establishment, Sukuna introducing you to numerous others in the rodeo industry. 

After meeting plenty of competitors, you determine you definitely have the hottest cowboy in the room.

Eventually you both grab a high top table on the periphery, finding it to be a great people watching vantage point.

“Look, buckle bunnies in the wild,” Sukuna points to an area with leather couches near a fireplace.

You look in the direction he gestured, finding three dolled up girls dressed in more revealing clothing. Looking closer, you see another person…

“Is that Gojo?!” you exclaim, recognizing the white hair because who else looks like that.

“Sure is,” Sukuna laughs, taking a long sip of his drink.

“Is that normal for him?”

“Pretty much.”

“Is he missing his partner in crime?” you shoot him a look, a playful lilt in your words.

“Hmph, I’d wingman for him, but rarely partook. I have high standards for where I put my dick, it’s an exclusive privilege,” he cocks a brow, eying you over his glass.

You almost spit your drink out, what an absurd statement.

“God you’re such a pompous ass,” you huff out with a laugh.

“Not sure what you’re laughin’ about, you got immediate access,” he shrugs, giving you a cocky smirk, swirling his drink in his glass before placing it on the table.  

“Wow, grateful, thankful, blessed over here,” you kick his shin under the table, even though deep down he’s by far the best fuck of your life and it’s not even close.

If you let that slip though, his head might explode from his overinflated ego.

It’s late, but you’re finally back at the hotel. You immediately change into your pajamas and head straight to the bathroom to wash your face.

The warm water is soothing, reminding you that a warm bed awaits you on the other side of the door, so the faster you were in here, the sooner you could snuggle up under the covers.

You glance up at your reflection to see if there was anything you missed just to be met with Sukuna leaning against the doorway, arms crossed in a loose t-shirt and his boxers. 

“Can I help you?” you ask, grabbing a dry wash cloth to begin dabbing at the moisture on your skin.

“Nope, just watchin’,” he answers simply, expression and posture remaining unchanged. 

“You like the show?” you giggle, grabbing your moisturizer to finish off your work. Washing your face had to be one of the more boring things he could watch you do.

“I do. It’s special cuz only I get to see, and it means I’m getting closer to one of my favorite parts of the day cuz when you’re done, I'll get to go to bed with you.”

Your chest flutters with butterflies and you swear your vision goes black for just a second, unsure if the universe glitched because you were not expecting him to say something so sweet. 

“Aw, well I’m almost done,” you respond, voice a little shaky, remembering you still had to rub the cream in.

“Very good,” he smiles, eyes blinking heavily before turning around and leaving you to it. 

You’re not far behind, climbing into bed and settling close to his side. Like routine, he pulls you in against his chest, securing you snugly as the little spoon.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” his husky voice rumbles against you. 

“Of course, it was actually kinda fun,” you answer. “Felt nice to go out as a couple, show everyone we’re doing this together…doing life together”

A brief pause follows before he answers.

“Yeah. Life together. I love the sound of that.”

A warmth blooms in your chest, radiating down through your extremities. 

“Me too Kuna,” you sigh, burrowing your face further into his arm. 

Together.

Whether it’s like this, holding each other tight, or miles apart, tethered by your hearts until you can meet again-

It’s your together, a shared future you’re building, and for that, you couldn’t be happier.

It's left open-ended, but my headcannon is that they get married in a cute little country wedding, have some girls, maybe a boy (Sukuna girl dad coded always), and raise their little family on Sukuna's ranch land. Reader and the kids go watch Sukuna compete regularly, but he's cut down greatly on brand deals and sponsorships in favor of much more family time!

This is my fourth(?) story I've finished and I think this Sukuna is easily up there in my favorites! Thank you everyone who read this story, liked/commented, etc! Your support has meant the world.

A montage of that moment flashes up on the screen, making you turn away for a moment. You’ve seen it enough times by now. Even though you didn’t see it live given you were late that day, it was broadcast all over the internet in an endless loop since then, and you weren’t really dying to see it today of all days.

The day where he rides again professionally for the first time.

You knew deep down, there wasn’t a world where he’d never try again. He’s been training like mad for this event, his goal being that he would ride again by the end of the year. His muscle mass was a sight to behold, his mind was sharp, and his old balance and coordination seemed to be back to normal. 

Even though you were downright terrified for him, you knew he wouldn’t go out there if he wasn’t sure. He’d promised you at least that much when he first declared he was going to go for it again. Sukuna knew that this whole experience had been just as much hell on you just as it was him, so he wasn’t keen on putting you through something remotely close to that again.

Turning back to the arena, your eyes drift to the chutes where Sukuna is getting strapped in. The sides are clattering on account of the unruly bull he’s slated to ride. If there was one thing about his debut that scared you, it was that he purposefully chose to ride the toughest bull on the circuit right now. 

To add insult to injury, he still was riding helmetless.

Even Toji had strongly advised to start easier and work his way back up, but since when has Sukuna ever been one to take the easy way out? In his words, what the fuck was the point in showing up if you weren’t going to ride the best? Your eyes must’ve looked on in horror because he immediately gripped your biceps, murmuring to you once again that he wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t ready.

He better be fucking ready, you think to yourself. If he loses his mind again, he might just have to find a new woman to help him gain it all back.

“Nervous?” Gojo asks to your right. He wasn’t riding this weekend, opting to take a break to see Sukuna back on his debut ride. A small entourage accompanied you this time including him and Sukuna’s family in the row behind the two of you. Toji was barking something down into the chute from his position atop the adjacent fence.

“I’d be lying if I said no,” you murmur, burying your face in your hands.

Gojo chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. You appreciate the comfort, finding it almost grounding as your mind starts to race with possibilities. A highlight reel of sorts is running on the big screen, no doubt aiding in hyping up the crowd that was already deafening. 

Sukuna surely was loved in this sport.

“He’s fuckin’ crazy, but that’s what makes him the best,” Gojo lets out a chuckle. “He’ll be just fine.”

“You aren’t just saying that to make me feel better?” you retort, knee bouncing your foot on the metal bleachers. 

“I mean, partially yeah. I’d never admit out loud that he’s the best unless it was for a good reason,” Gojo answers, now making you laugh.

“My uncle’s gonna win!” Yuji’s shrill voice chants at a similar age child, Toji’s son Megumi, who sits next to him. 

“You’ve been sayin’ it all morning,” Megumi snaps back, black hair falling into his eyes.

“Yuji put your drink in the cupholder when you’re done drinking!” Jin’s voice barks just as you notice the soda dripping down the child’s arm from sloshing over the cup sides.

“Sorry dad,” his voice softens, doing as he’s told. “I’m sticky now though, help!” he holds out his arm to his father, earning a grimace from Jin in response.

“Nope, you gotta live with it until Uncle Sukuna is done,” his father smirks at the boy and for a moment you see your own boyfriend in the normally docile man’s face.

Not to say your boyfriend isn’t docile, it's just that it’s usually reserved for something super domestic between the two of you that no one else would see. 

“He’s about to go,” Gojo tugs your sleeve, pulling your attention back to the arena. The dirt is all torn up from the prior riders, and considering Sukuna was saved for last, the competition results hinge on these last eight seconds.

The buzzer sounds, chute flies open, and a mottled white and black bull charges out faster than should be possible. 

Sukuna’s face is pure concentration once the first buck hits him, jerking his body to take the impact of the bull’s back against his own. 

His cowboy hat shifts further up his head, revealing pink strands plastered to his face. Another sharp buck from the animal forces Sukuna to shift to the side, still keeping his free hand from touching the animal and avoiding a penalty.

“Nice!” you hear Wasuke shout from behind you along with murmurs of approval from Gojo and Jin.

You wish you could cheer and shout, but all you can do is watch and pray that each time the bull throws its backside into the air that your cowboy stays on for another second. 

Each thud of the hooves into the earth feels like a beat of your heart hammering in your ears. Your grip on the metal bleacher below is starting to get painful, fingers tensing up under the pressure. 

The buzzer blares, signaling time up. 

Sukuna is still on the bull, starting to detach his riding hand.

Then the crowd roars, chanting his name so loudly that the announcers need to wait to start speaking.

Sukuna vaults himself off the back of the bull, landing gracefully in the dirt, red chaps flapping against his legs from the impact. The bull sees the color immediately, staring down Sukuna and for a moment, your breathing stops. Of course it charges your boyfriend and his stupid choice of color! 

He dodges with ease however, launching himself up onto the arena barriers until the bull is wrangled and ushered out of the ring. 

“What a finish!! The king is back folks, if any of you doubted his return, you can see yourselves out now because Sukuna has just scored a 93.5, taking first place for the night!! He’s won!!”

Sukuna jumps back down, running out to the center of the arena and raising his arms in a motion to pump up the crowd.

And boy does it work, the sound is deafening, Sukuna’s own grin spreads wide as he scans the grandstands, taking it all in. 

You’re up cheering now too, partially that it’s over and he’s alive and also because seeing him in his domain, crushing the competition, makes you more proud than you can describe. 

The whole concept of rodeos isn’t exactly something you love participating in, but seeing the man you love doing what he was born to do, loving every second, makes your chest swell. 

He turns to your section now, sauntering over with a cocky strut until he’s at the edge, beckoning you over to him. 

Startled, you look around like he’s motioning for someone other than you, because you aren’t used to this. It’s the first time he’s acknowledged you publicly post ride, but you figure this is now your new normal.

Running towards the railing, you jump into his arms, letting him pull you into his chest. The hard material of his padding meets your body and the scent of musk and spice from his cologne envelops your senses.

Wrapping your arms around his back, you bury your face into the crook of his neck, letting him do the same. Leather from his hat chafes against your neck, but you hardly notice, opting to squeeze the man as hard as you can.

“I’m so proud of you,” you mutter loudly over the crowd, fingers twisting in his shirt. “You did amazing, I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“Yeah?” he pulls back, voice raspy and eyes lidded as he stares down at you. He carefully positions your feet so you’re standing on his boots, helping you avoid the muddy floor as much as he can.

His hat brushes your forehead as he cocks his head, leaning in to kiss you. It shocks you at first, but you quickly melt into it, kissing him back, keeping it G rated of course. 

The way he nibbles at your lip though, you can tell he’s fighting it. In return, you give him a fast nip on his lower lip and with a dash of your tongue, pull back in a flash. 

The cameras can’t see, but down here, the way his crimson eyes darken is unmistakable. 

“Have like 10 minutes till press,” Sukuna mutters against your mouth, pressing bruising kisses against your lips after kicking the door to his suite shut. 

He’d dragged you off the dirt into the restricted area, telling Toji and staff NOT to come with him much to their dismay.

Toji only shook his head, a knowing smirk the only response. 

The only thing remotely usable is the couch, and that’s just where Sukuna moves toward, making stops along the way to pin you against various objects, raking his teeth down your jaw and neck while working you both out of your clothes. 

Eventually you make it to the couch, Sukuna down to his hat and jeans, while you’re totally naked. 

You wish you could take a picture of the sight. Sukuna’s already laid down on the couch, propped up against one of the arms, one leg splayed along the length and the other foot resting on the floor. His cowboy hat is still on, tipped back so he can see you with his championship buckle unlatched and barely doing anything to keep his jeans from sliding down his hips, V lines on full display. 

He looks like a damn model, eying you hungrily with a cocky smirk twitching at his lips. His chest and abs, shredded from all the training, now rise and fall from his heavy breaths.

“Take’em off,” you tap his thigh, helping him slide his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his heavy cock from its confines.

Staring down, the heat in your core ignites, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to find some friction. The man eyes you up and down, letting his gaze linger on your tits, licking his lower lip before digging a canine into it.

“Y’gonna just stare or come take it?” he teases, cocking his head.

“Sorry, you’re just…so distracting.”

And incredibly hot knowing he just dismantled the competition after so much time away. 

You shake your head at the stupid words that tumbled out your mouth, but right now, you can’t be bothered to care. 

Moving to straddle him, Sukuna’s cock twitches where it lays on his abs, a spurt of precum coating his skin and soaking his happy trail. 

“Excited?” you tease, coming to straddle his thigh, leaning against the couch. You spit in your hand, reaching down to grip his shaft, letting the sticky evidence of his arousal help you glide up to his tip. 

“Shut up,” Sukuna hisses, involuntarily jerking his cock into your hand. His pupils continue to grow, taking over the reds of his eyes as they dart between you lazily jerking him off and your face. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you coo, speeding up your movements until a wet, squelching sound appears each time your hand squeezes his reddening tip. 

A low groan from Sukuna has you starting to squirm, grinding yourself against his muscular thigh. 

“Shit,” you mutter, feeling your clit catch on a ridge of his quad. The way your slick is pooling all over his skin has your bud sliding easily over the thick muscles. 

The pressure is delicious, the fire in your core rapidly growing. The hotter you get, the more your pussy leaks, just exacerbating the situation. 

Then Sukuna flexes his thigh, and the additional friction has you shuddering, gasping at the bolt of pleasure shooting down your legs. 

“Kuna fuck!” you cry out, momentarily forgetting about his cock throbbing in your hand in favor of riding his thigh now. 

Sukuna doesn’t seem bothered, much more interested in your own pleasure. His hand reaches out to twist your nipple, sneering at the way you’re now shamelessly humping him. The more attention he gives to your tits, the faster you move, his whole thigh now dripping as your arousal starts to coat the couch too. 

He flexes again, pulling another shameless moan from your throat. That simple move puts you on the trajectory towards the point of no return. 

“Keep doin’ that,” you pant just before high pitched whines start to pour out of you. The pool of desire grows and grows like hot water threatening to boil over. 

“You like that huh?” Sukuna’s deep voice rasps in that gritty tone reserved for times like this. “Fuckin’ usin’ me like that?”

You can’t verbalize a response, hoping that biting your lip and nodding your head is enough.

“Keep goin’ baby, wanna see you cum all over me,” he groans, planting one hand on your hip, anchoring you to him to force even more friction and when the other goes for your nipple again, everything goes white.

The tension in your core snaps as hot pleasure erupts throughout your body, giving you such an intense orgasm that you collapse forward like you no longer have a bone in your body. 

“Whoa there baby,” Sukuna catches you before you faceplant on him. His natural musk smells stronger, now realizing he’s lowered you to his chest.

“You need a shower,” you mutter, letting the aftershocks pulse through your body, jerking against the beast of a man beneath you. 

“Nah, that’s how you know you’re fuckin’ a man,” he shifts you around until you feel him prodding at your entrance with finger.

“No!” you sit up, grabbing his wrist and forcing it above his head. 

“No what?” he smirks, not fighting you because lord knows he could’ve overpowered you. 

“Wanna feel you,” you whisper, leaning close to his face, letting your hand support your body by using his wrist as leverage. You push his other arm up over his head, securing them with one hand before reaching between your bodies, hand brushing against his course pubes as you find his throbbing erection.

“Yeah?” he whispers back, kissing your neck while “letting” you restrain him. 

You know this is going to hurt. Sure you’re wet enough, but when he doesn’t finger you, the stretch is insane. You always thought bodies get used to being with thick cocks if you’re with one for a long time, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. While you get used to the feeling of being split open, the burn never really goes away. 

“Ah, shit,” you wince when his thick cockhead breaches your entrance. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” Sukuna sighs, eyes rolling up to stare at the ceiling as he slowly sinks into you. A faint blush dusts his cheeks, offsetting the black ink lining his jaw. 

It takes a few moments of you working yourself up and down his thick length, but finally you both sigh loudly when your ass makes contact with his thighs. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, I love you,” Sukuna groans, grinding his tip against your cervix while you adjust to the incredibly full feeling of your walls wrapping snugly around him. 

That gives you some motivation to start riding him, remembering you’re in a time crunch. 

“We gotta go baby,” he grips your hips, helping support you while you control the pace, the intense friction becoming something more comfortable and pleasurable once you start to mold to his cock.

“I’m tryin’!” you squeal when you find your sweet spot, angling yourself to ride him faster. “You’re too big!”

“Ha-ah, I tried to help ya. Miss independent over here…” he sucks in a breath when you lean back, taking him deeper and giving him a great show, eyes glued to where you are connected. 

“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, spurring you on. Your thighs are starting to ache so you lean forward, planting your hands on his slicked up chest, nails digging into his skin. 

“Sorry, I’m getting tired,” you admit. 

“Tch, poor thing,” Sukuna chuckles, giving your ass a firm smack. 

He takes the hint, tugging you off his lap, cock slapping back against his abs with a wet plop. He repositions himself so both feet are on the ground and he’s sitting upright, turning you around so your back is flush with his chest. 

He hooks his beefy arm under your knees in a full nelson, lifting you up just enough to guide his cock back inside. 

“Lean back, not trying to have anyone else get concussed in this family,” he plants a kiss on your cheek.

Your head lolls back against his upper chest and thank god you do because he begins pounding into you relentlessly. 

“Fuck Kuna!” you cry out, the combination of him immediately drilling your sweet spot and his wet balls slapping against your clit has you hurtling into another realm of pleasure transcending what you experienced earlier. 

“Yeah? Like that?” he utters through grunts and pants in your ear. His vocalizations drive you crazy, loving how he’s never quiet when it comes to you, especially because you can’t see him right now. 

But fuck, you can feel him. Everywhere. His bruising grip on your thighs, hard, sticky chest pressing against your back, heavy breathing in your ear accompanied by the occasional kiss on your neck that ultimately turns into a bite. 

“Ye-yeah, feels good,” you force out, hips starting to move on their own accord as you attempt to meet his thrusts. His fingers come to clamp down on your clit, making you gasp in his arms.

A bolt of heat shoots down your legs, making your whole body jerk as you try to process the additional stimulation. Everything in you is winding up like a coil threatening to snap, body clenching up as you brace yourself-

Until his thrusts come to a halt, the sparks you thought would fly fade into a tingle through your core. Whining with disappointment, you wriggle in his arms, desperate for him to keep going. 

“What-why-“

“Shh, trust me,” he coos. 

He starts to move again, now thrusting slow and deep while dragging lazy circles around your clit to match the pace. Your eyes flutter shut, head falling helplessly against his upper chest. Each languid plunge of his cock into your soaked pussy winds the coil of pleasure once again. This time it’s measured.

Controlled. 

Letting you savor the build up while his fingers bring you closer and closer to the edge. 

You feel like you’re on the edge of a cliff, teetering on the precipice, held on by a single thread that’s going to snap under the tension. 

You can’t take it. 

“Kuna, I-mmph! Su-“

“I know, can feel ya gettin’ close,” he whispers, making you tighten around him even more. The man lets out a guttural groan when you start trembling, the coil seconds from snapping.

One more deep thrust. 

Another.

And then you see white for the second time, body flooded with pleasure as the looming orgasm finally comes. You can barely even utter a sound, like your vocal cords are locked up to divert energy to the rest of your body attempting to contain the heat threatening to burst through your skin. 

Sukuna begins to thrust frantically, slamming you down onto his length, chasing his own release.

“Oh fuck, shit, fuck fuck!” 

He presses his cock into you impossibly deep, filling you with his thick load. Hugging you tight against him, he moans through each pulse, cock twitching through each spurt. 

Your legs feel like jello once he finally releases them, knees splaying out into the couch.

Sukuna’s phone starts buzzing from the pocket of his jeans which are still technically on, but shoved down just enough to be out of the way.

“You’re gonna be late!” your voice perks up, but your body is too tired to do anything about it.

He digs into his back pocket, holding up the phone in front of you both, scrolling through multiple messages essentially saying “where are you?”

“They answer to me, I’ll be there when I’m there,” he tosses the phone to his side, opting to adjust you both so he was laying down on the couch with you balancing the same way on his chest. Your eyes flutter shut, now heavy as your body starts to relax.

His arms wrap around your back, holding you close while pressing light kisses into the top of your head. The buttons of his jeans are hard where they rub up against your waist, but given how tired you feel all of a sudden, you quickly forget about it. 

Another round of buzzing his phone now indicates someone is calling him. 

“Won’t you get in trouble?” you murmur, vaguely remembering something about media commitments being part of his contracts. 

“Tch, I’ll pay the fuckin’ fine,” he snorts.

Your chest feels heavy with the smug weight that settles in. The man would rather pay a fine than stop cuddling you. 

His money his choice.

Sukuna snatches your hand in his, pulling you out of the backseat and onto the sidewalk with him. 

“Ready?” he asks, smoothing out his dress shirt while you do the same to your evening wear outfit. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, earning a small smirk from the man in response.

Tonight is the first time you are publicly accompanying him to an event. As the winner of the bull riding competition earlier today, it was even more imperative that he attend.

Looking toward the building that is now your destination, you see a hoard of people bunched around the front doors. Sukuna’s PR team had warned you both that the paparazzi knew this was the first time he’d be attending something like this with his new girlfriend on his arm.

From where you stand, it’s unclear whether these are just attendees shooting the shit before continuing on inside or people lurking to try to get a glimpse at the famous cowboy’s relationship.

“Woman!”

“Huh?? Why are you raising your voice at me?”

He chuckles, hooking his arm in yours.

“I said your name like four times but you were off in fuckin’ space,” he answers, cocking his head to peer down at you.

“Sorry, was just thinking…”

“Better off not doin’ that right now,” he laughs. “Now com’on.”

You allow him to guide the two of you closer to the commotion. A bourbon company was hosting the post rodeo gathering in a high end lounge on the top of the tall building. Sukuna said these types are the best, way more low key and no forced walking around and mingling in stuffy cocktail attire.

Unfortunately they were requiring the attendees to go through a step and repeat area to get inside, but Sukuna said he’d take care of you.

Shoulders back, stand up straight, and smile. Easy.

Some cameras do flash when you approach, but thankfully they are roped back from actually approaching the two of you. You almost start laughing at how many high pitched squealing voices are calling for Sukuna. It’s ridiculous how desperate they are for an ounce of his attention.

“Damn, you had all these women around the world throwing themselves at you and you chose the one trying to get away from you,” you snicker to him, making him burst out laughing.

“Would’ve been boring, I already think I’m the shit and glaze myself enough, don’t need another person doing it all day,” he flashes you a grin, pulling you into the queue.

Makes sense. In a way you’re the same way with him. Being so different is healthy because it gives you just enough space, independence, and individuality to be your own people so that when you are together, all your focus is on each other and your shared interests.

At the end of the day, you are both two driven, confident people. Clingy partners just wouldn’t fly for either of you.

“Hey now, I do think you’re pretty cool,” you nudge his ribs with your elbow in a playful way.

“I know, you make me work for it though,” he responds.

“Oh, so is the Ryomen Sukuna saying he tries extra hard in hopes of impressing his girlfriend?” you get on your toes to whisper in his ear.

He answers with a shrug and a wink, sending butterflies straight to your stomach. 

“Next!” 

“Our turn, time to look pretty,” Sukuna tugs you along.

Everything feels like a blur. You’re guided to different spots along a backdrop of logos, seemingly for the bourbon company and some others you don’t recognize. Flashes of light temporarily blind you, so you can only hope you are photographing well because there’s definitely no one giving on the spot feedback.

“Sukuna you were practically glowing in the post rodeo press conference, looking happier than we’ve ever seen you! You must be very proud of how you were able to get right back on top after all this time away!” a shrill voice calls out.

Yeah probably because he was getting his dick wet right before he went out there, you internally roll your eyes.

“I never expected anything less from myself,” Sukuna responds cooly, hand slipping around your waist to pull you closer.

“How are you adjusting to becoming rodeo royalty?” another woman calls out to you, surprising you. PR had said you might get called out, but you truly thought Sukuna would be the main focus of everyone this evening.

“Honestly, it’s a lot,” you answer, smiling nervously. The woman responds with a kind laugh but nods, urging you to continue. Sukuna’s thumb rubs circles over your lower back, soothing away some of the nerves.

“But, I’m sure it’ll get easier. I’m with an expert after all, I trust he’ll take care of me,” you chuckle, tilting your head in Sukuna’s direction.

“Yup, and if we do look stupid in front of the camera, at least we can go home and laugh about it together,” Sukuna adds, making everyone laugh, including you.

“Well you both look stunning tonight, and you’re doing great sweetie,” the woman beams before turning to the next group coming behind you.

Once on the other side, you both go off to the side to get your bearings.

“Wow, why were you so happy in the press conference Kuna?” you tease, jabbing him in the ribs.

“I dunno babe, seemed like announcing that I was ‘bustin’ a nut with my girlfriend in a full nelson’ wouldn’t have gone over well, especially with that your first press experience ever,” he blushes, pushing his tongue into his cheek, trying to suppress a smirk.

“Now stop remindin’ me and let’s go, you’re making me get a boner.”

“Sukuna!” you gasp, looking around, noticing a few people scattered about where you are standing. “Watch your mouth!”

“Really don’t think anyone would be shocked to hear I get boners and have sex with you,” he barks, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You just roll your eyes and follow him to the elevator.

The party has a very chill and relaxed vibe, very different from the chaotic scene downstairs. Sukuna immediately gets a bourbon on the rocks while you opt for your drink of choice. You spend time doing a lap around the establishment, Sukuna introducing you to numerous others in the rodeo industry. 

After meeting plenty of competitors, you determine you definitely have the hottest cowboy in the room.

Eventually you both grab a high top table on the periphery, finding it to be a great people watching vantage point.

“Look, buckle bunnies in the wild,” Sukuna points to an area with leather couches near a fireplace.

You look in the direction he gestured, finding three dolled up girls dressed in more revealing clothing. Looking closer, you see another person…

“Is that Gojo?!” you exclaim, recognizing the white hair because who else looks like that.

“Sure is,” Sukuna laughs, taking a long sip of his drink.

“Is that normal for him?”

“Pretty much.”

“Is he missing his partner in crime?” you shoot him a look, a playful lilt in your words.

“Hmph, I’d wingman for him, but rarely partook. I have high standards for where I put my dick, it’s an exclusive privilege,” he cocks a brow, eying you over his glass.

You almost spit your drink out, what an absurd statement.

“God you’re such a pompous ass,” you huff out with a laugh.

“Not sure what you’re laughin’ about, you got immediate access,” he shrugs, giving you a cocky smirk, swirling his drink in his glass before placing it on the table.  

“Wow, grateful, thankful, blessed over here,” you kick his shin under the table, even though deep down he’s by far the best fuck of your life and it’s not even close.

If you let that slip though, his head might explode from his overinflated ego.

It’s late, but you’re finally back at the hotel. You immediately change into your pajamas and head straight to the bathroom to wash your face.

The warm water is soothing, reminding you that a warm bed awaits you on the other side of the door, so the faster you were in here, the sooner you could snuggle up under the covers.

You glance up at your reflection to see if there was anything you missed just to be met with Sukuna leaning against the doorway, arms crossed in a loose t-shirt and his boxers. 

“Can I help you?” you ask, grabbing a dry wash cloth to begin dabbing at the moisture on your skin.

“Nope, just watchin’,” he answers simply, expression and posture remaining unchanged. 

“You like the show?” you giggle, grabbing your moisturizer to finish off your work. Washing your face had to be one of the more boring things he could watch you do.

“I do. It’s special cuz only I get to see, and it means I’m getting closer to one of my favorite parts of the day cuz when you’re done, I'll get to go to bed with you.”

Your chest flutters with butterflies and you swear your vision goes black for just a second, unsure if the universe glitched because you were not expecting him to say something so sweet. 

“Aw, well I’m almost done,” you respond, voice a little shaky, remembering you still had to rub the cream in.

“Very good,” he smiles, eyes blinking heavily before turning around and leaving you to it. 

You’re not far behind, climbing into bed and settling close to his side. Like routine, he pulls you in against his chest, securing you snugly as the little spoon.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” his husky voice rumbles against you. 

“Of course, it was actually kinda fun,” you answer. “Felt nice to go out as a couple, show everyone we’re doing this together…doing life together”

A brief pause follows before he answers.

“Yeah. Life together. I love the sound of that.”

A warmth blooms in your chest, radiating down through your extremities. 

“Me too Kuna,” you sigh, burrowing your face further into his arm. 

Together.

Whether it’s like this, holding each other tight, or miles apart, tethered by your hearts until you can meet again-

It’s your together, a shared future you’re building, and for that, you couldn’t be happier.

It's left open-ended, but my headcannon is that they get married in a cute little country wedding, have some girls, maybe a boy (Sukuna girl dad coded always), and raise their little family on Sukuna's ranch land. Reader and the kids go watch Sukuna compete regularly, but he's cut down greatly on brand deals and sponsorships in favor of much more family time!

This is my fourth(?) story I've finished and I think this Sukuna is easily up there in my favorites! Thank you everyone who read this story, liked/commented, etc! Your support has meant the world.

Smiling a pleasant smile whenever anyone approached, nodding your head and making conversation as you were expected to, sure – but that odd veil never seemed to lift from behind your eyes.

Sukuna wondered how none of the other idiots here had noticed.

"My friend" Yuki answered his question with a raised eyebrow, in a tone that said she was shocked Sukuna had even noticed anyone else's presence in the room apart from his own.

He was well aware of other people's assumptions of him, so he didn't bother replying to her taunt. "Is she alright?" Sukuna asked instead, after he watched you check your phone for what had to be the tenth time in a single minute.

Yuki sighed, turning to take a look at you with a solemn expression herself. "She's going through a tough time" was all she said.

Sukuna didn't like the sound of that at all.

So he decided he wanted to change that.

He lifted himself up and walked right past Yuki, picking up a fresh bottle of beer on the table while he was at it. The blonde seemed curious but let him be, turning to rejoin the party as Sukuna strode far away from everyone, and towards you.

"This seat taken?"

His voice took your eyes away from your phone, tilting your head up to blink at him in surprise. Your eyebrows scrunched together, and he watched you quickly scan your surroundings, trying to figure out if there was anyone else he could be speaking to.

"No" you replied, almost like a question, but you moved to the side so he could take the seat next to you on the small sofa.

Sukuna sat down awkwardly, his broad frame taking up most of the seat, but you didn't seem to mind. "Here" he grunted, passing you the fresh bottle while bringing his own to his lips.

You were surprised at the gesture, but had no choice in accepting. Not with the way Sukuna was practically shoving the cold glass into your hands and forcing you to drop your phone onto your lap.

"Is that for me?" you asked, as if it wasn't obvious.

"Who else would it be for?" he asked, instantly regretting how sharp he sounded.

But you didn't scoff, or roll your eyes, or call him an asshole like most people seemed to do. Instead, you laughed – only a small chuckle, but some tension finally seemed to ease from your shoulders.

Naturally, his own shoulders dropped as well.

"Thank you" you muttered, hands closing around the bottle, phone now forgotten to your side.

Sukuna didn't know why you were so attached to that thing, but he seemed to understand it was a good thing you had finally let go of it. "Let me" he said, searching for his keys inside his pocket to remove the bottle cap for you.

It was only a favour, something that had no business feeling this intimate. But Sukuna was far too aware of how his thigh brushed against yours when he leaned in, of how close you allowed him to move into your space even if just for a second.

The sound of air escaping the freshly opened bottle matched how his own finally leaving his lungs, he realised.

"Thank you again" you smiled kindly. And then, to his surprise, it was your turn to lean into him – you extended your hand, clinking your bottles together. "Cheers" you said, completely unaware of how you had surprised him.

Sukuna nodded, reciprocating the gesture. He watched you tilt your head back as you drank, followed the curve of your neck and noted the beautiful angle it made with your shoulders. He hid his crimson gaze behind his own drink, but anyone else around would have noticed – Sukuna was fucking hypnotised.

You finally lowered your hand with a satisfied hum, opening the first real smile he had seen the whole evening. "I needed that" you sighed.

Both your hands closed around the cold glass, phone still forgotten.

"Not having fun?" Sukuna asked, tilting his head to meet your gaze. You were close, very close, but you didn't seem intimidated by him like everyone else.

How intriguing, he thought.

"I am" you replied, looking away – maybe because you were nervous, Sukuna hoped, or maybe because you were lying.

"Are you?" he questioned, keeping his eyes locked on your face. You struggled to hold his gaze, blinking towards him and then away, until you finally sighed and understood you couldn't lie to him that easily.

"It's been a long week" you confessed, looking down at your hands.

Sukuna let that hang in the air for a moment, letting the weight of what you said sit with both of you instead of you alone.

"Yeah?" was all he managed to say. He wasn't good with things like that, but fuck if this pretty girl at the party didn't make him want to try.

You only nodded, looking down at your hands. He saw your eyes blink down, then to your phone by your side, then down again, and finally… to him.

You opened a little smirk, more self pitying than anything – and it was right then that Sukuna decided he wasn't giving up until he saw that real smile again.

"Let's change that" he said.

Three hours later, Sukuna had you crying for a completely different reason than whoever the fuck had gotten you that upset in the first place.

"Kuna, fuck– I can't–" you moaned as your legs only pulled him closer, your hands clawing at his shoulders in desperate need, face all scrunched in a mess of delicious tears that he was enjoying kissing away.

"You can" he groaned against your skin, slamming his hips into yours again, earning a loud whimper that sounded like music to his ears. "Taking it so fucking well for me"

You brought your hands to his face again, chasing his lips desperately. He had one hand rubbing small circles against your clit, determined to get a second orgasm out of you before he had even had one himself.

When he had suggested leaving the party together, Sukuna hadn't necessarily expected this was where the two of you would end up. But hell, he wasn't mad about it.

As it turned out, you looked even more beautiful crying from pleasure.

"I'm gonna–" you whined as your back arched, body trembling slightly as Sukuna kept slamming into you through your high, enjoying the way your eyes rolled back and you completely let go, suspended in bliss and relief.

"There you go" he smiled, biting the side of your neck. "Knew you had it in you" he teased, and you let out an elated laugh, bringing him closer.

"You feel so good" you hummed, and Sukuna decided he wanted to push himself up just to see your euphoric face. He brought his two hands to close around yours, pushing both above your head as he interlaced your fingers together, hovering just above you as he admired you like a painting.

"Good" he replied with a sly smile, a particularly harsh thrust punctuating the sentiment. "You're fucking gorgeous"

Too gorgeous, he thought.

"You think so?" you asked, and he hated how surprising that was to you.

He kissed you again, as if to prove a point. Your mouth parted and your tongues danced, with all the excitement of an unexpected night, but far too intimate for a one night stand. "Gorgeous" he repeated, biting your lower lip.

"Th-thank you" you tried to say, and Sukuna laughed against your lips. Who the fuck thanks someone during sex for just stating a fact?

Why would he be sleeping with you if he didn't think you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, after all?

"Kuna" you moaned, that stupid nickname you had given him after your first orgasm, but he was beginning to like it. He enjoyed thinking he made you feel so good that his full name was just too much effort.

"Go on, say it again" he rasped to your ear, hips rolling deliciously into you.

"Kuna–" you whimpered, legs closing around him, and your voice was the thing that finally tipped him over the edge.

Your nails dug into the back of his hands but Sukuna didn't let up, pining you with all his weight as you happily took everything he was giving you. Spilling everything inside the protection he was wearing, but he caught himself wishing there was no barrier between you.

Maybe next time, he thought, letting hope slip out in his blissful state.

Sukuna's hips stilled finally, face coming to the crook of your neck. He left a kiss there, followed with one to your jaw, tasting the sweaty mess he had made of you, and then one to your cheek – your salty tears prickled his lips, but when he noticed your chest move up and down far too quickly, he started to worry they weren't from pleasure this time.

Sukuna pulled away from you fast, scrunching his forehead as he watched tears pour out of your eyes; slowly, not dramatic, like you simply couldn't stop them from escaping.

His breathing completely stopped, everything about him going very still.

"Did I hurt you?"

"N-no" you said as fast as you could, shaking your head sideways and attempting a smile. But Sukuna was not happy with your response still.

"Are you sure?" he prodded, not meaning to sound so stern, but everything in him was in high alert. His crimson eyes didn't leave yours, but his hands started roaming the curves of your body, caressing in slow circles to soothe whatever it was that had you crying like that under him.

Was he too rough? Was it too much?

Were you scared of him like everyone else?

To his surprise though, you let out a little wet laugh. "You're sweet" you said, opening a beautiful smile that completely undid him, despite the wetness all over your face.

Fuck, he thought.

Sukuna hoped you couldn't see it, but he was almost certain he was blushing.

"Tch" he grunted, rolling around to settle next to you and pull you into him. "No one else would say that"

"You are" you replied while Sukuna turned you to him without any struggle, resting your head right on his broad chest. He was so warm, you thought, letting yourself sink into him.

"Then why are you crying?" he asked again, unwilling to let it go. Sukuna tangled a large palm on your hair, softly caressing the back of your head, trying to figure out what the hell he could do to help.

"I didn't expect to, I–" you tried to explain, but those crimson eyes were back on you, and his other hand around your waist had you somehow trusting you could just be honest with him.

"I'm scared you'll leave" you admitted finally, voice too small.

Sukuna pulled away from you just slightly, just so he could see your face. "Why would I leave?" he asked, like the notion alone was ridiculous.

You swallowed thickly, struggling to meet his eyes. "You won't?" you asked pitifully, looking anywhere but him.

He wanted to kiss you to prove it. Wanted to hold you all night and fuck you again and again so you'd finally get in your head how much he wanted you.

But he could tell this went far deeper than just insecurities.

"Who made you think like that?"

Sukuna hadn't expected his question would bring more tears to your eyes, and it was almost like he could see you shut him away in real time. Your eyes fell downwards, and your hands played with your own nails instead of gripping him like he wanted – clearly something still too painful hiding just under the surface.

So he didn't let you. "Hey" he called, bringing his hand to your chin now, to force your eyes up. "I'm not going anywhere" he reassured.

It sounded like the right thing to say, and he knew he fucking meant it, but why the hell did he feel like it only made you pull away even more?

"You don't have to do that" you shook your head, hiding into his side and attempting to sound more composed. "Sorry, I'm sure the last thing you want is a one night stand cryi–"

"Stop" he interrupted then, stern. In one swift move, Sukuna was on top of you, taking on the role of cleaning your face with his gruff finger tips, trying very hard to be gentle.

He could see it in your face how surprised you were. How you expected to mean nothing to him. Sukuna was used to people assuming he slept around, but truth was, he didn't – Sukuna didn't really do one night stands. Today had been as an anomaly for you, as it was for him.

So the fact you were crying, thinking he would just dispose of you like that? That pissed him off more than anything.

"I'll get you some water" he announced, leaving a gruff kiss to your forehead. "Then we can have a bath, and then you can tell me. If you want" he completed, far too aware of how serious he was sounding.

The last thing he wanted was to scare you.

But you smiled, surprising him again with a shy nod. "That sounds nice" you murmured.

He could have sworn your hand tried to cling to him as he stood up, but he wasn't even sure you were aware of it.

Sukuna did as he promised, taking care of you for the rest of the night. He cleaned you up, dressed you in his old oversized shirt that looked much better on you than it ever had on him, and held you tight for the whole night.

You didn't want to tell him why you were crying then, but you had time. This wasn't the only night you spend together, after all.

Sukuna hated to admit it, but ever since then, you barely left his mind. What started on that unexpected night turned into something more meaningful, day after day, kiss after kiss – but still, you struggled to tell him what made you so scared.

He tried to figure it out himself, piercing together little bits of information you had given him, mind always conjuring up the worse case scenario.

He just had to understand why it never mattered how often you spoke or how nice your day was – when it was time to say goodbye, he could see the silent fear creep up all over your beautiful face.

You tried your best to hide it, but he didn't want you to.

Sukuna didn't mind reassuring you, not really. Sometimes just an extra hug when you needed. A kiss to your forehead. A promise that he'd call later. He understood you just needed confirmation he wouldn't leave. Needed confirmation that you meant something.

Why the hell did you think you didn't?

That was the part that drove him mad.

And the day you finally decided to tell him, he understood.

It was a grim story about some asshole called Satoru Gojo.

Satoru Gojo. The name alone made him sick.

He didn't even know the guy, but every time you opened up more, his hatred only grew.

It wasn't nice to be falling for someone who was still getting over someone else, but Sukuna learned to be patient for you.

Sometimes you pulled away, talked down on yourself, expected nothing but pain from the unavoidable feelings that were starting to grow; but Sukuna was always there to pull you back. He didn't blame you for it, after all, it wasn't your fault – it was his.

The man who had taken your heart only to step on it with no care for how it left you to take up the pieces.

Satoru Gojo.

Sukuna looked up the asshole everywhere online, like a predator stalking his prey. He had to know. Everything in him was consumed by how much he despised the man that made you believe you were cursed.

He found his profiles easily enough, clearly the idiot enjoyed showing off. He had to admit he was good looking – white hair and blue eyes and a confident smile. Rich too, it seemed. The type of guy who felt entitled to use people, Sukuna rolled his eyes with a scoff.

It wasn't nice to imagine there were probably pictures of him out there that you were in too. With that easy smile of yours – the one Sukuna only saw rarely, only at times you let yourself truly relax.

You probably smiled like that more often before him, didn't you?

He hated imagining the two of you together, but Sukuna wasn't jealous – he couldn't be, when he was the one you turned to. The one you were slowly letting into your heart; and Sukuna was in no rush.

Not jealousy, he reassured himself, heart hammering into his chest as he held you tight in the night, your nails digging into his bicep like you were trying to cling on even in sleep.

Definitely not jealous, he thought again, when your gorgeous smile returned one day and Sukuna caught himself wondering how anyone could have it in them to hurt you.

Not jealous – angry, Sukuna settled on, fantasizing about punching that smug grin right out of Satoru Gojo's face, on a night you had cried when telling him about how you felt disposable.

Who knew opportunity would actually present itself.

That one fateful day, Sukuna had been waiting too long where you were supposed to meet before he decided to walk back and look for you.

What was probably only five minutes had felt like a life time. You were never late. Sukuna was fucking worried.

So he walked back, fast, turning a street corner and then another, until he finally saw you from across the street.

Oh. Maybe he was jealous, he realised.

Because standing on the other side was you, clearly upset, clearly holding back tears – and across from you, the man he had only ever seen in pictures.

With his hand holding yours.

Sukuna's owns instinctively curled into fists as he rushed to your side, vision turning red.

"Hey" he yelled, crossing the street. "The fuck is going on here?"

Your eyes immediately snapped to him, managing to relax him the tiniest bit. You rushed to him, pressing two palms to his chest, pleading with him with your teary eyes. "Kuna, it's ok" you said, and he went over every little detail of your face to reassure himself that you really were ok.

And then, his crimson eyes shifted up.

Now that he was this close, Sukuna could see it clearly. That truth he could only have assumed before.

This Satoru Gojo was pathetic.

With his stupid mouth slightly agape, brows furrowing together like he was confused at what was happening.

Yeah, asshole, Sukuna thought. She's with me.

"Who the fuck do you think you are" he snarled, pulling you into his chest. "Putting your hands on my girl?"

The way the other man's face fell gave him all the satisfaction he needed, that smug face contorting like the words had physically pained him.

Good, Sukuna thought, not a sliver of sympathy.

You had completely hidden your face into his chest now, knowing exactly where safe was. Sukuna could feel how your breathing had changed, could feel the wetness in his shirt. "Please don't yell" you sobbed, and his heart hurt hearing you like that.

"He made you cry?" Sukuna asked, all focus back on you. His beautiful girl. His.

Crying because of this idiot.

His hatred towards Satoru was only outweighed by his love for you; Sukuna was fully focused on wiping each tear away, tenderly brushing his finger tips over your cheeks.

"I'm sorry I was late" you murmured to him, leaning into his touch. It was unfair how you could undo him like this – this was meant to be the big stand off he had been dreaming about. His chance to beat up the guy who had made you so scared of love.

But now, he found himself wanting nothing more than to make you smile again.

"Don't" he replied with a kiss to the top of your head. "Got me worried sick, and then I find you upset and this asshole with his hands on you–"

"We just ran into each other" you shook your head, hands balling into his shirt. The nice one he had bought for your date specifically. "It's ok"

Hell. You sounded so apologetic. As if you had done something wrong by happening to run into the guy.

You looked at Sukuna with those pleading eyes that begged him to forgive you for whatever crime you thought you had committed. Even in this moment, so scared he'd just leave.

Sukuna hated this.

And right there – the man who made you think like that.

So close. So fucking close.

And he had the audacity to try and hold your hand.

Everything in Sukuna wanted to confront Satoru, but all his focus was on you.

Making sure you were ok.

Making sure you were safe.

Making sure you were away from him.

"He the one you told me about?" Sukuna asked you, even though he already knew the answer. He held you right where you were, your back to the white haired man, refusing to let him have another fucking look at you. "Let me get you out of here" he said kindly, helping you walk away.

You followed, standing by Sukuna's side, leaning into him for comfort as you continued forwards with your eyes glued to the floor.

And as you both walked away from him, Sukuna couldn't help another look back.

At his challenger. His rival. The man whose ghost still clung on to you in your darkest moments.

Satoru Gojo.

A man he hated so much, but right now looked nothing but pitiful.

Sukuna wasn't moved by his desperate tears. He was convinced Satoru Gojo didn't care for anyone but himself, anyway.

Part of him did regret not throwing that punch he so desperately wanted.

And as much as he hoped with everything in him that you'd never run into Gojo again – Sukuna hoped he would.

this is very healing to write!

“…yes,” you whimper.

“Then fucking arch it.”

You sniffle. “Okay.”

He breaks character and huffs out a laugh as he watches you continue to helplessly stretch and squelch around him, making a creamy mess all along his shaft. He straightens his back, big hands now firmly grabbing your hips as he picks up the pace.

“Yeahh—stay right there,” his chest rumbles as he lets out a low, drawn-out groan. The smack of his hips growing louder, driving himself right into that little spot that won’t stop screaming for his attention.

It has his attention now.

The new angle had you whining into the pillow, absolutely reeling from how good he was at this, despite his complaints. He knows how to be rough. Nearly lifting you off the bed once he starts pulling your hips back, heavy balls smacking against your sensitive clit as he makes you meet each and every rough thrust he delivers.

“F-fuckk!” you choke out, barely able to form a coherent sentence as you start babbling out a bunch of words.

“So fuckin’ spoiled.” He complains, but just barely. “C’mon brat—you’ve been working me like a fuckin’ dog, give it to me already.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He doesn’t believe you. You sound like you’re in heaven right now. “Mmhh—I love you so much.” His scowl deepens. “So, so much—you’re so fucking big.“

“Tch.” He grabs a handful of your hair, then yanks you back until you’re up against his chest, lips grazing your ear while muttering in it. “I don’t want an apology. What I want is for you to cum on my fuckin’ cock already. Or should I just stop?”

“No, no don’t! Please! I’m trying, I swear,” you begin to plead with the man.

“Try harder.” Then he smiled, because he felt you squeeze around him. “Jesus Christ—you need to me talk you through it too? The chocolates supposed to make you horny, sweetheart. Not useless.”

“It’s not my fault,” you whimper, and squeeze around him again, pulling a condescending huff out of him.

“You poor thing,” he hums. “Probably spent the whole day waiting for me to come home so I could make you feel better, huh?”

His breath tickles your ear and you nearly moan. “Mhm—I thought about it all day.”

“Well aren’t you sweet,” he mutters, tone as condescending as ever. “You got what you wanted, too. I’ve been taking care of you for a while now. How many times have I cum in you now?”

“I… I don’t know—“

“Of course you fuckin’ don’t.” He cuts you off, unamused by your answer. “Want me to do it again? Fill you up, make you feel all nice and warm?”

“Please.”

“Give me what I want then. If these sheets aren’t soaked by the time I’m about to cum again, I’m pulling out and finishing on your face,” he lets go of your hair and begins to laugh. You don’t get much of a chance to react before you feel the pads of his fingers on your clit, pulling a gasp out of you once he starts rubbing little circles on top of already fucking you. “Heh—let’s see if playing with this cute little clit saves you.”

And he knows you don’t deserve it—any of it, honestly. Unfortunately, he can’t help himself, not with the reactions he gets out of you. He married you for many reasons—getting to spend the rest of his life with a squirter was one of them. The moment your breathing grows labored and you sound like you’re gonna start to cry, his lids grow heavy and he starts saying all the things he told himself he wouldn’t say today.

"Yeahhh, that’s it, baby—fuuuuck—takin’ it so good.” He is fucking gone. Voice thick, filled with nothing but lust and awe as he presses against your lower belly. “C’mon, you want it here, right? Yeah, you know what to do—don’t let some fuckin’ asshole finish on your sweet little face.”

Yes. Your husband just degraded himself. And you just egg him on without meaning to. You were already whining about how it was too much, the incoherent “want it inside,” just made it better worse.

“I will, I’ll give you so fuckin’ much if you just give me one—just one. Easy. Shit—I’ll fill you up as much as you want afterwards.” He doesn’t know what he’s saying, but that doesn’t matter when it’s what has you crying and trembling and finally gushing around his cock.“Yeah, that’s it. That’s it, that’s—fuuuuck yeah. Good job, sweetheart—good fuckin’ job. Fuck.”

Funny enough, he came right after you, which was a relief because that meant his job was done and he was finally able to give his dick a fucking break after hours of feeling like he was working for free, when he had already worked a regular eight hour shift prior. The biggest relief of all was seeing you lie limp in bed, after slightly worrying if you ever actually would.

He leans over you with a smug smile, already having forgotten how much you pissed him off earlier as he moved some hair away from your face. Checking to see if you’re actually asleep or not, then feeling a deep sense of peace when seeing that you are. He presses a kiss against your cheekbone, and in the most loving way hopes you stay that way because he cannot do that again. Then finally, he gets up to use the bathroom.

The peace is only lasts four steps until it’s completely shattered again when he hears your weak voice.

“Are you ready to go again?”

choso, eyes rimmed red and glossy, glances up quickly at the familiar voice. his pupils grow wide at the sight of sukuna, shaking with rage. and already fallen off the edge…actively losing it.

kaori’s eyes widen in shock, her gaze drops to her hand then to her step-son. she swallows thickly. her short black bob lays flat on her head, a black skirt hugs her waist, as the rest flows, reaching her boney ankles. her formal attire stands out in the sea of casually under dressed teenagers and young adults. and none of it can hide the slight wrinkles around her neck, or the unnerving sensation that shoots through sukuna when she meets his gaze.

“choso said you weren’t here—“

she doesn’t get the chance to finish her sentence when sukuna’s suddenly slamming the frail woman into the wall. choso’s eyes widen as sukuna’s frame towers over her with little effort. he ignores how his hand shakes, gripping the collar of her blouse, squeezing. every muscle in his body shifts, tightening his hold on her.

“I asked you a fucking question!” he shouts in her face. unbothered by the sudden looks of people backstage, including ino, who ran into the crowd to call for sukuna when the woman came in.

a few moments earlier….

ino’s standing beside mechamaru, the two watching over choso as he adjusts his guitar for the fourth time that night.

“dude it sounded fine before, now you’re just messing with it,” mechamaru exhales in exasperation.

choso’s brows pinch, “no, this chord is loose.”

“because you keep playing with it.”

“just give me a sec!” choso snaps.

the two boys glance at one another, looking down at their distraught friend. it’s obvious choso’s been on edge since they arrived. but the guy won’t give them a straight answer. instead he keeps fidgeting and messing with his guitar like there’s a fly constantly buzzing in his ear. to make matters worse, ino and mechamaru noticed sukuna coming in with a couple of his friends. last they heard, choso still hasn’t cleared the air with him. is that why he’s on edge?

“got it,” choso finally exhales.

unfortunately, the good news is immediately cut short when choso notices his bandmates looking like they’ve just been shot.

standing behind him is the uncanny woman that looks like a spitting image of their best friend. choso’s heart drops to his ass, and the blood drains from his face in seconds.

“choso.”

the unnerving sound of his name coming from this woman’s lips has a chill running down his spine. his sweat turns cold as he looks up from his seat on the ground, quickly moving to stand up. choso stands at nearly the same height as the tall skinny woma, maybe an inch or so taller.

“mom, how’d you—“

SLAP!

the sound rings so sharp it cuts through the muffled bass bleeding from the stage outside. choso freezes. completely still. his head jerked with the impact, black hair falling into his face as the sting blooms hot across his cheek. for a second, he doesn’t even process what happened. his body locks up as his brain tries to catch up. his eyes are wide and unfocused as he stares somewhere past her shoulder.

ino and mechamaru go dead silent. the two boys stand there like statues, shock written all over their faces as kaori lowers her hand with terrifying calmness. there’s no guilt at all, just that same unreadable expression.

“you lied to me,” she says coldly. the authority in her voice settles instantly, suffocating the space around them.

choso slowly lifts a hand to his cheek, fingertips brushing over the burning skin, still unable to wrap his mind around the fact that she actually hit him. it’s been years— his throat feels tight.

“choso,” she says again, sharper this time. “i’m speaking to you.”

his eyes flick up properly now, confusion and disbelief behind his eyes as he finally looks at her. then instinctively, his gaze darts toward ino and mechamaru.

his jaw clenches.

“can we talk after?” he mutters quickly, voice rougher than normal. “i’m about to go up—”

“no. we’re talking now.”

her fingers wrap around his wrist immediately. it tightens, making choso stiffen as she pulls him toward the farther corner backstage, away from the noise and people passing through, heels clicking.

the second they’re out of earshot, mechamaru’s neck nearly snaps as he whirls toward ino. “why is she here?!” he whisper-shouts.

ino throws his arms up, drumsticks still clutched in one hand. “i don’t know! that was a hard fucking slap too—”

both boys suddenly glance back toward the corner kaori dragged choso to, he’s sitting on a stool as she stands in front of him. and the reality settles ugly in their stomachs. maybe this is exactly why sukuna didn’t want choso around her alone. and neither of them have to voice that realization.

“should we—”

“i don’t want him killing us though—”

“he’ll kill us for sure, but if we call him he probably won’t!” ino cuts in frantically, already moving. “c’mon!”

the two practically trip over themselves rushing out backstage. the second they hit the main crowd, the noise slams into them full force. music shaking the grass, colored lights flashing violently overhead from the strobes attached to the makeshift stage, and bodies shove shoulder-to-shoulder near the elevated stage as another band screams through their set on stage. the battle of the bands was the first huge event kicking off summer break, and the turnout at the rented park is insane and only getting bigger as more people flood in.

finding sukuna in this mess feels impossible.

“i honestly don’t know which way he went!” mechamaru yells over the music, shoving past a group near the bar trucks.

“split up!” ino shouts back immediately. “call me if you find him!”

they separate without another word, because somewhere in this packed park is a six-foot-four soccer captain with face tattoos, a terrifying temper, and enough presence to make grown men shut up when he walks into a room, and right now they need him.

eventually, ino spots a familiar head of pink hair through the sea of people. well….two heads.

an almost identical, much smaller version of the man he’s looking for sits perched on sukuna’s shoulders, glow sticks hanging around yuuji’s neck as the eleven-year-old screams along to the music like he’s completely lost his mind. sukuna isn’t much better, one tattooed arm is hooked around yuuji’s leg while he shouts something toward the stage, feral under the flashing lights.

ino nearly cries in relief, “sukuna!”

he starts shoving through people immediately, bumping shoulders and muttering rushed apologies until he finally reaches the college student. his hand grabs the back of sukuna’s plain black tee.

sukuna whips around instantly, ready to shove whoever grabbed him, then stops. “ino—”

“there’s a small problem!” the drummer’s panting, sweat dripping down his temple from sprinting around the park venue. sukuna’s expression shifts immediately. brows pinching sharply as his stomach drops before ino even finishes speaking. he can see it all over the kid’s face.

“choso’s mom is here.”

everything happens at once. yuuji yelps as sukuna grabs him off his shoulders without warning, shoving the younger boy toward gojo’s side. the white-haired man barely catches him properly before sukuna’s already gripping ino hard by the arm.

“where?”

“backstage—she took him—”

“watch him,” sukuna snaps toward gojo and geto, voice suddenly low cutting through the music.

gojo’s grin vanishes instantly. geto’s brows pinch instantly, that tone isn’t new to them. “for sure,” gojo says immediately.

ino doesn’t hesitate. he spins around and starts forcing his way back through the crowd, sukuna right behind him. except “behind” isn’t even the right word, his shoulder slams into strangers hard enough to make them stumble, dark eyes fixed ahead as the noise around him dulls. his pulse pounds violently in his ears with every step, ino’s words looping over and over in his head.

choso’s mom is here. his jaw clenches so hard it hurts. and somewhere deep in his chest— something ugly starts waking up.

present….

“I asked you a fucking question!”

kaori raises a hand to her step-son’s forearm. lips parting as her eyes dart over his hardened expression, his eyes flashing red, every muscle on his body protruding as sweat beads down his forehead.

“are you deaf?—“ he snaps after she takes too long to respond. his head snaps to choso still sitting on the stool. “she hit you?”

choso stands, head dropping and hand covering his face. his heart pounds against his chest.

“choso—“

choso’s clenches his jaw, blood boiling.

“choso—“

“forget about it!” choso snaps.

sukuna suddenly lets go of kaori, taking the single step to uncover choso’s face. his other hand cups his chin, tilting his face up, and it all hits him at once. the tears building behind his brother’s brown eyes, looking away from the older as he bites down on his teeth, and the bright red hand print on his right cheek.

kaori smooths out the front of her wrinkled blouse, eyes cold as ice.

“choso lied to me,” she says flatly, but not to sukuna, she never talks to him, it’s always at him. “he told me the money was for cram school because he was falling behind in his classes and needed it for his finals.” her lip curls faintly as she gestures toward the backstage area and the unruly screaming crowd beyond the curtains. “then i find out it was for this.”

choso tries pulling away from sukuna’s grip, but sukuna’s frozen, completely still as he stares at the red handprint burning against his little brother’s cheek. the heat builds u see his skin, sweat collecting behind his neck.

“spending time with you has rubbed off on him, something I did not want to know.”

that finally makes sukuna’s eyes snap upward, sharp and furious as his gaze cuts to choso instead of her. “how would she know to give you that money?” he asks quietly, that tone is worse than yelling.

choso visibly shrinks, shoulders tightening as he avoids eye contact. “she asked to meet with me,” he mutters, uncomfortable. “and asked if i needed anything.”

sukuna’s jaw flexes hard enough to hurt. “so when I asked you, it was before that?” choso looks away. and that’s all he needs. sukuna’s head whips toward kaori so fast it nearly startles ino beside them. “I’m getting a fucking restraining order on your fucking ass.”

kaori scoffs immediately. “we both know that’s not an option.” she crosses her arms now, anger bleeding through her composed expression. “i’m more concerned about my son going around asking people for money over some ridiculous band competition while struggling in school—”

“choso isn’t struggling with shit!” sukuna barks. “he’s a fucking genius. that’s how he scammed your psycho ass in the first place.”

people nearby are definitely staring now. a few phones are raised before mechamaru immediately starts hissing at people to stop recording while ino frantically waves others back. choso looks like he wants the floor to swallow him whole.

“are you seriously praising him for lying?” kaori demands.

“to you? fuck yeah.” sukuna steps closer. towering. violent rage practically radiating off him. “actually, i’m disappointed he didn’t ask for more money.”

“ryo—” choso starts weakly, oozing with embarrassment.

“that’s what you get for going behind my back,” sukuna cuts over him, eyes locked onto kaori. “throw all the money you want at him. choso isn’t going anywhere near you.”

“choso,” kaori says again softly, completely ignoring sukuna, that sets him off. choso’s face twists, confusion and guilt and stress all mixing together as he looks between them. “you know i’m just disappointed in your actions,” kaori tells him, voice suddenly gentler in a terrifying way that makes sukuna see red. “you can tell me if you’re having trouble asking your grandfather for things.”

the faux sweetness hits choso like another slap. sukuna sees the hesitation and confusion immediately. choso’s chest tightens, and suddenly sukuna’s moving again.

“stop fucking talking to him like that,” he snarls, voice low and shaking with fury. “jus’ ‘cause he answered your texts doesn’t mean you can suddenly care about him.”

“ry—” choso tries, voice tight.

sukuna doesn’t even hear him.

“you’re outta your fucking mind if you think giving him money is gonna win him over.” sukuna spits at kaori.

“i was helping my son,” kaori fires back immediately.

“your son?” sukuna laughs harshly. “now he’s your son?”

“ryo,” choso says again, louder this time, but sukuna’s blood is roaring too loudly in his ears to listen.

“i didn’t forget the way you fucking treated them,” sukuna steps closer. “some mother leaving bruises on her fucking kid, making him all jumpy. not after the shit you did with me—“

“i said stop!”

the shout cuts through backstage so sharply that even the people shouting over the music nearby go quiet for half a second. sukuna freezes. choso’s chest heaves. his face is bright red now from humiliation and anger. his eyes are glossy with held back tears that only seem to piss him off more.

“I don’t give a shit!” he snaps, voice cracking despite how hard he’s trying to keep it steady.

kaori’s expression shifts quick. “choso—”

“no—” he jerks away before she can touch him again, stumbling closer to sukuna, instinctively. “don’t— don’t touch me.” his breathing is uneven. ino and mechamaru exchange nervous looks from a few feet away. “I don’t fucking care about anything other than playing tonight—that’s it!” choso gestures wildly.

sukuna’s jaw clenches.

“i can handle my own shit,” choso continues, breathing shakily now, attention now on his older brother. “ya don’t have to make a big deal outta something when I didn’t ask for it!”

sukuna’s eyes darken immediately. “the hell you mean by that?”

“i mean i’m not yuuji!” choso explodes. “you don’t have to hover over me every second like i’m two!” a thick ugly silence follows, even choso goes quiet after saying it, but he doesn’t take it back. instead he glances briefly at his older brother, than at his mother, his jaw tightens. “i’ll pay you back the money by the end of summer,” choso snaps, eyes burning now. “so you can be disappointed at me, somewhere else.”

the words hit hard, then choso walks away, angry. truly angry.

sukuna watches his younger brother shove past the backstage clutter, shoulders stiff and fists clenched at his sides and for a split second, the resemblance is almost nauseating. not in appearance — sukuna’s always known choso looked too much like her — but in their temperament. the rage settling ugly beneath his skin until it explodes. sukuna never really noticed how much of himself choso inherited. but kaori notices it immediately, especially when her expression flickers.

choso reaches ino and mechamaru, both immediately crowding him with questions.

“dude are you okay?”

“what the hell was that?”

“did she seriously—”

“i’m fine,” choso cuts sharply. the three fall quiet, choso’s fingers tighten around the neck of his guitar before he looks toward the stage entrance where the current band is finishing up.

“we’re up next,” he says, jaw locked. “and we’re gonna fucking win this.”

ino blinks, then quickly grins. “HELL YEAH,” he shouts, shaking choso’s shoulders.

mechamaru nods quickly beside him, still nervous, but determined all the same. and just like that, the three disappear further backstage toward the stage call area, leaving sukuna alone with kaori.

sukuna’s sharp eyes cut through her, there was no holding back now that choso was gone. his hand snaps back onto her blouse, fingers curling in the fabric until it bunches tight and strains under his grip. he yanks her forward, lifting her just enough that her heels barely touch the ground.

“i’m going to fucking kill you,” he spits. his voice is low, and shaking with controlled rage. it was worse than shouting. “I’ll rip your arm straight out of your body if you—” his grip tightens again, the words weren’t enough to contain what he meant. “—ever lay a finger on him.”

kaori’s breath catches. she’s on her tippy toes now, frozen, sweat gathering at her temple, and for the first time, something in her cracks. this wasn’t another intimidation tactic or performance. it was a real threat from sukuna.

he leans in closer, voice dropping even further, every word precise, already imagining how it would happen. “i won’t even give you a chance to breathe,” his eyes are deep crimson blood, “if you touch them again… i’ll rip you in half before you even know what’s happening.”

and with that, sukuna lets go of kaori, and she stumbles back a step, catching herself with a sharp inhale.

“keep threatening me,” kaori spits, chin lifting even as her voice wavers at the edges. “I don’t take childish boys seriously—“

something in sukuna snaps again. “i’m gonna fucking kill you, you cunt—”

he steps forward, already closing the distance with terrifying quickiness— and then an arm locks around his chest and yanks him backward.

“what the fuck?!” sukuna twists immediately, muscles tensing as he fights the grip, but it holds him steady, pulling him off his line like he weighs nothing. he doesn’t even need to see the face at first, he just knows from the strength alone.

toji.

sukuna digs his heels in, shoulders straining as he tries to wrench free. “get off me,” he snaps, still fighting forward, still locked on kaori like she’s the only thing in the room. but toji doesn’t budge. he just drags him back another step, grounding him with pure force, cutting through the athletes strength with some struggle.

“get a fucking grip!” toji snaps in his ear. he uses every muscle in his body to knock sukuna off his weight again and drag him further away.

sukuna digs his fingers into toji’s forearms, but it’s too late when he’s pushed back to the exit, joining the crowd cheering the current band.

“fuck!” sukuna shouts, receiving a hard shove from toji until he’s completely knocked back. the rage had boiled way over, that toji standing in front of him, just as pissed, then he’s gripping sukuna’s collar, bringing him to his face, fist raised.

“are you fucking seventeen again!” he shouts, the music and chaos around them made everything much calmer than what was actually happening. “I’ll knock your teeth out if you don’t calm down!”

sukuna still struggles—

PUNCH

the hit directly lands on sukuna’s eye, sending him back, but toji keeps him up. fist curling tighter. “you wanna fuck everything for your brothers? do you!”

“you fucking bitch,” sukuna spits on toji, just to receive another punch directly in his solar plexes, almost knocking the wind straight out of him.

his breath catches, a few people nearby step away in surprise. the ocean crashes in the distance. toji still grips his shoulder. sukuna is hunched over, catching his breath, back rising and falling like a beast ready to attack. but instead, sukuna aggressively shrugs toji’s hand away.

“I’m going to fucking kill her,” he repeats under his breath.

toji rubs his face, chest heaving with his own rage.

“woah! what happened!” yuuji shouts over the music, eyes wide as sukuna finds them in the crowd again, toji not far behind.

gojo, geto, megumi, and now nanami, all glance up, all stunned at the bruise slowly forming around sukuna’s eye. sukuna looks furious still, not explosive like before, but still pissed. the anger settling deep. his chest still rises hard under each breath, jaw locked tight enough to crack teeth.

toji walks a few steps behind him, equally pissed, rubbing at his own face.

“jesus christ,” gojo says first, brows lifting. “did you get jumped?”

“shut the fuck up,” sukuna mutters instantly.

his voice comes rougher than usual, and he wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand standing back beside his brother.

yuuji stares up at him wide-eyed. “did someone hit you?!”

sukuna finally looks at him then. his expression doesn’t soften much, but something in his eyes shifts slightly at the sight of his little brother hovering there, worried out of his mind.

“i’m fine,” sukuna says shortly.

yuuji clearly doesn’t buy it. “your eye’s all swollen.”

“and?” sukuna shoots back, dismissive, though the edge in his tone dulls just a little. “still standing.”

toji scoffs behind him. “barely.”

sukuna cuts him a glare sharp enough to kill. for a second, it looks like sukuna might start yelling again, but then he just exhales hard through his nose and leans his head back instead. the ocean crashes somewhere behind them. music shaking the ground beneath their feet.

geto studies the tension between the two men carefully. “what the hell happened?”

“nothing,” sukuna says immediately. yuuji still lingers beside him, nervous energy practically radiating off him, and sukuna notices immediately.“quit staring at me,” he mutters, finally shoving lightly at yuuji’s shoulder. “i said i’m fine.”

yuuji doesn’t even get the chance to respond before sukuna suddenly grabs him by the waist and lifts him back onto his shoulders like nothing happened. except everyone notices the slight wince that flashes across sukuna’s face. his hand brushes his stomach for half a second, fingers pressing there instinctively before he adjusts yuuji’s legs over his shoulders again.

toji notices immediately. his jaw tightens.

“choso is up,” sukuna says instead, voice flat, already looking back toward the stage through the crowd.

yuuji steadies himself, hands gripping the top of sukuna’s head as he tries to lean down to see his brothers bruised eye. “are you sure you’re okay?”

“you ask too many questions,” sukuna mutters. but he keeps one hand locked around yuuji’s calf anyway, secure and steady despite the bruise forming around his eye and the ache spreading through his ribs.

gojo watches the whole thing with raised brows. “wow. tough guy for real.”

“say another word and i’ll knock your teeth out.”

“there he is,” geto sighs. nanami shakes his head slightly, though the corner of his mouth twitches for barely a second. behind them, toji exhales through his nose, still irritated, but at least sukuna has settled for the time being.

everyone’s attention shifts fully to the stage as choso’s band gets called up. megumi sits on toji’s shoulders, arms loosely resting over his dad’s head as the whole group drifts closer to the center front where the crowd thickens. lights flare across the stage, as the anticipation of the next band rolls through the audience. yuuji immediately lights up the second he spots choso stepping into place.

“CHOSOOOO!!!” he screams at the top of his lungs, bouncing on sukuna’s shoulders. sukuna tightens his grip instinctively, keeping him steady. the motion pulls at his bruised ribs again, but he doesn’t show it beyond a slight tightening of his jaw.

“THAT’S MY BROTHER!”

sukuna exhales through his nose, eyes fixed on the stage. choso stands under the lights now, adjusting his position at the mic, shoulders rolling back shaking off everything that happened earlier. the crowd noise builds around him, voices overlapping, everyone cheering.

gojo cups his hands around his mouth. “YOU GUYS GOT THIS!!”

on stage, choso finally looks up, and for a split second, his eyes find the group in the crowd.

yuuji waves wildly like his life depends on it. “you got this choooo!!!!”

sukuna doesn’t wave, but he holds eye contact with choso for a moment longer than anyone else, steady and sharp. the bruise on his face not visible under the shifting lights.

choso inhales sharply, shaking off the rest of his anxiety. sweat building from the nerves and heat. and then they start.

the first hit of ino’s drums sends the entire crowd shouting with excitement…

sukuna’s chest tightens. the uneasiness weighs on his shoulders as a dark pit quietly stirs awake inside him. though his focus remains ahead, eyes locked on his brother performing their first set, there’s that lingering anger that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

not since he was seventeen, standing by the intersection, red and blue lights flashing across his face, and his dad’s car jammed slightly beneath the truck, completely crushed.

“shit—that’s your dad’s car?” kashimo repeats, as if saying it again will snap sukuna back.

but he’s already moving. his feet stumble off the sidewalk before his mind catches up, shoving straight into the street. his skull is split open by the sirens screaming loudly. ambulances and police cars clogging the street. the headlights blur his vision, only seeing the wreck straight ahead.

“SUKUNA—!” kashimo pushes after him, nearly slipping as he forces his way through the growing crowd. officers notice immediately when the two teenagers duck beneath the tape.

“hey! kid—!” an officer grabs for sukuna’s arm.

sukuna violently shoves him off. “THAT’S MY DAD —!”

his voice sounds unfamiliar to him as it tears straight out of his throat, making the officer stumble back just enough for sukuna to break free and start running the second he sees paramedics dragging someone out from the passenger side.

his stomach drops.

the familiar body is pulled out, and all he sees is his father covered in deep red blood.

blood coats his face, runs down his neck, soaks through the front of his shirt. glass sticks to his skin. bruises already spread dark beneath the flashing lights while firefighters shout over each other around the wreck. controlling the truck from starting a fire. sukuna drops beside his dad so fast it scrapes the skin clean off his knees.

“shit—shit, shit, shit—” his hands shake violently as he looks at all the blood.

one of the paramedics tries pulling him back. “kid, you need to move—”

“dad?” sukuna grabs onto jin’s arm anyway, panic rising so violently inside him it feels like he’ll throw up. “dad, what the fuck—? WHAT THE FUCK?!”

his voice cracks at the end, eyes wide as jin tries to respond but only wheezing comes out. blood covers one of his eyes as he struggles to open them properly. every breath sounds wet and broken.

“r-ry—” his fingers twitch upward weakly, trying to reach him.

and suddenly sukuna can’t fucking breathe, the anger explodes through his chest making him dizzy. “YOU SHOULD’VE STAYED WITH ME!” sukuna shouts, tears burning hot behind his eyes. “WHY DID YOU GO AFTER HER?!”

jin barely seems aware of the wreck around him, or the paramedics putting a mask on him, or the blood soaking through his clothes. instead, his entire focus stays on his eldest son kneeling beside him with bloodshot eyes, and an anger he can’t seem to ease.

“ryo…” he wheezes painfully. “men…” his hand finally reaches sukuna’s hand, smearing blood across his skin.

behind them, paramedics pull another person from the opposite side of the car, alive and walking. kaori stumbles against the police cruiser, hysterical, mascara running down her face. her eyes are bloodshot and unfocused.

“ma’am,” an officer says sharply, catching her arm before she falls again. “have you been drinking tonight?”

another officer immediately steps in beside him after smelling it. kaori starts crying harder, words slurring together into panicked nonsense.

sukuna looks up. then something inside him twists… his father is laying in front of him and she’s standing.

“you fucking bitch,” sukuna spits, shoving himself to his feet so fast his knees nearly give out beneath him. jin’s bloodied hand slips from his sleeve, still reaching after him weakly.

“ryomen…”

but sukuna already storms forward. an officer immediately moves between him and kaori. “hey—hey! back up!”

“get the fuck out of my way!” sukuna barks, trying to shove past him again, completely losing it.

kaori sits against the side of the ambulance now while a paramedic presses gauze against the cut on her forehead. another wraps a blanket around her shoulders despite the smell of alcohol practically soaking the air around her. she looks up just in time to see sukuna lunging toward her and for the first time that night, genuine fear crosses her face.

“you did this!” sukuna screams.

two officers grab him before he reaches her. sukuna fights violently in their grip, rage tearing through him he can barely see anything besides red.

“HE WENT AFTER YOU!” he shouts. “HE FUCKING WENT AFTER YOU!”

“kid, calm down—”

“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM THE FUCK DOWN!”

behind him, paramedics suddenly start shouting near jin’s stretcher. one of them yells for another medic, and starts pushing sukuna’s father faster toward the ambulance.

what followed turned into a blur that sukuna’s mind never fully managed to piece together afterward. his body moved before his mind did. one second officers held him back, paramedics shouting around him, and the next he climbed into the ambulance beside his father while someone yelled that he couldn’t ride along unless he stayed seated.

sukuna didn’t even remember agreeing, he just remembered the inside of the ambulance feeling freezing cold, remembered the medic cutting jin’s shirt open, and remembered the blood. so much blood.

sukuna sat there with blood covering both hands, staring while they worked on his father right in front of him. jin barely stayed conscious the entire ride. every now and then his eyes opened halfway, searching weakly until they landed on sukuna again. like he needed to make sure he was still there. and every single time, sukuna felt something twist apart inside his chest.

then the hospital lights replaced the sirens. people moved around him constantly, nurses, doctors, officers asking questions—but sukuna stayed hunched over in the waiting room chair with his elbows on his knees and his father’s blood smeared across his hands. he stared at the floor so long he lost track of everything.

the automatic doors eventually opened again. heavy footsteps quickly coming towards him. toji. and then his gramps following close behind him.

“ryomen,” toji says immediately, breath uneven like he rushed there as fast as possible. “what happened?”

sukuna doesn’t answer. he just sits there, shoulders tense, brows pinched tight while his fingers curl harder against his palms. staring at the blood in the creases of his hands. then he mutters. quietly. low. “she killed him.”

toji’s expression shifts instantly. “what?”

“she killed him,” sukuna repeats, harsher this time, the words scraping out of his throat. “she killed him.”

sukuna barely notices the two men hovering around him. he keeps staring at the blood on his hands instead. his scraped knees. his football uniform still on.

sukuna genuinely can’t tell how many hours or minutes pass. the hospital waiting room grows quieter as the night drags on. his grandfather quietly rests his head back, while toji paces near the windows like he might punch straight through the glass. and then finally, the doors open again, a doctor walks out. everyone freezes immediately. and sukuna doesn’t need to hear the words, before the doctor even speaks.

he’s dead.

and it’s her fault.

the hard yank on his hair snaps sukuna straight back into the present. music crashes through the field while people scream their heads off around them. yuuji sitting on top of sukuna’s shoulders has one hand gripping sukuna’s phone while the other fully tugs on his brothers hair to keep balance.

“GRAMPS DO YOU SEE HIM?!” yuuji screams into the phone loud enough to blow out the speaker.

gramps voice crackles back immediately. “you keep shaking the damn phone!” the camera angle violently jerks around. all yuuji can see is the top half of the old man’s forehead shoved way too close to the screen. “stay still!”

“OHHHHHHHHH!!!!” yuuji completely loses his mind the second choso steps up to the mic again.

the entire field erupts with him.

ino’s drums shake through the speakers while the guitars kick in harder, the stage lights flashing over choso and his band as they absolutely light up the crowd. even nanami cups his hands around his mouth to yell, whatever dignity he usually carries cracking under the sheer energy of the performance. gojo screams something incomprehensible beside him. geto laughs while shoving him. megumi claps from toji’s shoulders with far more enthusiasm than he’d ever show on a regular day.

and somehow yuuji’s excitement finally drags sukuna with it. the tension in his chest loosens for the first time all night as yuuji bursts into louder cheering.

the two brothers start yelling toward the stage together, voices getting swallowed by the music and chaos around them while choso stands under the lights. and sukuna’s resolve hits him that very moment too.

he’s not letting these two out of his sight.

the celebrations, surprisingly, continued through the night until all the performers were done.

sukuna and the boys watched in the audience as all the bands crowded onto the stage and the promoters stood in the middle with a list and began announcing the six bands that will be proceeding to the semi-finals in two weeks.

“DEATH PAINTINGS DEATH PAINTINGS DEATH PAINTING!” yuuji starts the cheers, sitting back on sukuna’s shoulders. the rest quickly join, and as the four bands are announced, the chanting grows louder. the crowd joining, a universal want for choso’s band, death paintings, to be one of the semi-finalists.

“and the final band to make it into the semi finals is….” the host waits for the anticipation to simmer, but it’s not realized with how unbelievably loud the chanting has gotten for different bands, but the loudest being for— “DEATH PAINTINGS!!”

—

the culmination of celebration among the group extends to choso. him and his two friends are on cloud nine after the announcement, riding the adrenaline. somehow, choso manages to push everything else aside that almost swallowed the entire night.

people keep stopping him before he can even take three steps, congratulating the band, asking questions, slapping him on the back. toji leaves before everyone else, megumi staying behind with the group as security pushes the crowd out of the venue field and toward the beach nearby. bonfires burn in the distance and music continues from portable speakers.

everyone was distracted, except sukuna. his decision settled during the performance and by the time they return home, well after midnight, the house felt exhausted. choso’s friends immediately crash his room. megumi sleeping in yuuji’s room without complaint. doors shut, voices fading until silence settles over the house.

sukuna sits alone at the kitchen table. the only light comes from his laptop screen.

the black envelope sits beside it. opened.

a thick paper rests beneath his hand as he reads the letter again for what must be the hundredth time. an invitation. the one he’s waited to receive again for the past five years.

a la liga club. three weeks training with one of the best clubs in the world. three weeks that could change his entire future. the letter might as well weigh a hundred pounds. for weeks, sukuna pushed away replying, even when everyone brought it up. he had more pressing things at the front of his mind….

his eyes drift toward the hallway where his brothers sleep. a few months ago the answer would’ve been simple. obvious, even…but since kaori, everything’s changed.

his jaw tightens as his fingers move across the keyboard.

Dear Recruitment Team,

Thank you for extending the invitation. I am honored by the opportunity and would like to formally accept.

But before finalizing travel arrangements, I would like to discuss one logistical matter. I am the primary caretaker of my two younger brothers and am responsible for their supervision and wellbeing during the summer. As a result, I will not be able to travel without them and would like to ask whether accommodations can be made for my brothers to accompany me during the three-week training period. Their presence would not interfere with my participation in training or any club obligations.

his eyes narrow, reading over the email. he isn’t asking, he already knows what he’s doing. if the club says yes, yuuji and choso are coming. end of discussion. if they don’t…then. his fingers flex, veins straining.

both outcomes will result in consequences. the first is choso, but after today, he doesn’t care if choso throws a fit, or if he gets called controlling or insane. he isn’t leaving them behind after tonight and remembering exactly how fast everything can disappear.

his fingers resume moving.

I understand this is an unusual request, but I wanted to address it before confirming. If necessary, I would be happy to discuss the situation further and provide any information you may need.

Thank you again for this opportunity. I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Ryomen Sukuna Itadori

sukuna leans back in his chair and stares at the ceiling. for a moment, the silent churning deep in his chest twists… the lingering feeling that’s been pushed returning. a familiar one that’s ruled his life for years. bad things happen whether you’re ready or not. people leave whether you hold onto them or not. life keeps moving whether you’re scared of it or not. and if that’s true—

his gaze drops back to the laptop. the cursor hovers over the send button. the house remains completely silent. inside their rooms, his brothers sleep peacefully, completely unaware that their summer plans are about to change.

SEND

the email vanishes.

for several seconds he simply stares at the screen. then he reaches over, grabs the black envelope, and crushes it in his fist. three weeks in spain. suck it up.

—

the following two weeks went by with a breeze. aside from two separate incidents in two completely different places. one unraveled in the itadori household a few days after the battle of the bands tournament, and the second was in a certain hospital staircase that same day.

your jaw tenses. shoko quietly stands beside you, your hands tucked behind your backs. a resident stands across from you while an attending stands front and center. the staircase feels too small and you already know this isn’t about a patient, glancing at shoko beside you.

the attending, your father, removes his glasses, folding them in his hand. “you know why we’re having this conversation?”

you shift your weight, shoko glances at you. heat crawls up from the back of your neck. you finally respond with a small shrug. the resident cringes, your father doesn’t. “you asked shoko to ask a resident physician to prescribe medication to you.”

you swallow thickly biting your cheek. shoko opens her mouth, but your dad holds a hand up.

“I’ll give you a chance. I’m asking her to answer first.” you can feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to meet his gaze. which you do.

“i asked a question,” you clear your throat. “I was asking shoko to ask for me.”

“you put them in an inappropriate position,” he cuts, silencing you in seconds.

your chest tightens, heat spreading to your face now. the embarrassment sits heavy on your chest now. you see shoko try to raise her hand beside you again.

“can I—“ the attending finally turns his head to shoko. “we were just talking.” she clears her throat, “we both didn’t know what the policy was on—“

“the policy is your supervisors can’t prescribe you medication,” he snaps.

shoko nods, glancing at the resident, who’s supervising this summer’s undergrad students, including her and you. “yeah, I was told.”

you scratch your wrist awkwardly, “I didn’t mean to put anyone in an…inappropriate position.” you wet your lip, pushing the coil crawling up your throat. “it won’t happen again.”

he processes your apology. his eyes flick to the resident and shoko, dismissing them. shoko glances at you as she follows the resident out, the staircase door shutting behind her. the silence grows louder with just the two of you. you inhale sharply, your head falling back, hands covering your face.

“dad—“

“do you need a new prescription?”

“no,” you cut, hands shielding you from his gaze.

“then why did you ask? have you spoken to your doctor about this?”

“I’m not—“ you stop, taking a deep breath. “I don’t need another prescription. and I told you already I’ve been talking to my doctor. I was just asking a question— I was just stressed.”

“why? you’ve done all this before,” he cuts, brows furrowed, and arms crossed in confusion.

“I’m stressed about other stuff,” you exhale, hands falling, face still burning from the humiliation earlier.

“what other stuff?” he pushes. genuinely confused about what you could be worrying about. “you don’t have classes or exams. you know everything. if you have any questions you can ask me—“

“yeah, I’m worried about other stuff, like generally,” you huff, rubbing your face. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“you’re not taking any medication now?” he changes the subject back, brushing off your concerns to push his own out, “jennie told me you weren’t when she visited.”

your teeth clench, rubbing your eye, “yeah, I don’t need it anymore. I haven’t had them since finals.”

his eyes narrow, you can see the concern pinching his brows. “I don’t have a problem if you still need to take them. you know that—“

“yeah, but I don’t need them,” your stomach curls tighter, especially when he glances over you like…like you’re causing him more stress. it’s confusing, you know tjat. saying you don’t need any more medication, but then asking a resident a question about whether they can give you some for stress. it doesn’t make sense, and at this point you’re getting frustrated with yourself. “it’s not a big deal. next time I just won’t ask anyone anything,” you mutter.

“we’re having a conversation, so don’t do that,” he shakes his head in disappointment. the pit in your stomach growing at the sight. “I want to understand why you asked.”

you stomach churns, “it’s fine.”

the silence stretches between you, then you finally decide to leave.

“you should go home,” he steps to block the door.

you barely blink, the comment rolling off your back as you hum. “great.”

your father exhales through his nose. “i’m serious.”

“i know.”

“you don’t sound like you know.”

your jaw tightens, ignoring the passive aggressive tone. “can i go now?” you ask.

he stares at you for another second before stepping aside. the staircase door swings open and you leave. your shoes slap against the floor as you move through the hallway. nurses pass, residents pass, families pass, and it all irritates you. you don’t even realize how fast you’re walking until another set of footsteps catches up beside you.

“hey.” you don’t look over. shoko keeps a quick pace beside you anyway. “hey.”

“what?” you stop.

the word comes out harsher than intended. shoko is unfazed, “i’m sorry.”

you glance at her. the two of you standing by the lockerroom. “for what?”

“for telling the resident.”

“yeah well you didn’t tell on me.”

“still.”

you put the code in before entering the locker room, shoko follows. “still what? i asked a question and apparently that’s illegal.”

“that’s not what i mean,” shoko sits on the bench as you take your backpack out.

you sigh, “i know what you meant.” you start changing. “it’s just annoying that I was scolded like that and I didn’t even wanna do this stupid ass program in the first place. no offense,” you start rambling. “but seriously, how many times does this make it—like the fifth freaking time I get yelled at in front of these residents and I haven’t even done anything that crazy. asking a question?! god forbid!” you throw your hands up in sarcastic defense. you scoff at the situation rolling your eyes.

“this whole thing is just a humiliation ritual of being a fucking doormat, and having every single person around me be the biggest ops ever—not you,” you put your shirt on, pulling your jeans up right after. “let’s bet how much shit I’m gonna get if I just mention to jennie how annoyed I am,” you roll your eyes, knowing exactly what she’ll say. “if yOU doN’t LiKe it sO mUCh jusT qUiT,” you mimic her voice.

shoko, who has been quietly listening, stifles her own laugh. “why do you let her get under your skin?”

you deadpan. “she is the only person that can ragebait me until i wanna tear my hair out,” you’re basically clawing at your skin. “can’t even complain about anything anymore,” you mutter more to yourself. “whatever.”

shoko gives you a sympathetic look.

“call me when you finish, I’ll come pick you up,” you conclude, waiting for shoko’s hum before leaving.

and just a few miles away, another incident was unfolding in the itadori garage.

“what?” choso’s voice cuts through the room. “you’re lying.”

“you don’t want a free vacation?”

“it’s not a free anything! i’m not going to spain! the tournament—”

“yeah, the finals are the day before our flight, still lying—”

“i’m not lying! when we win we’re gonna be meeting with producers and stuff—”

“and stuff,” sukuna laughs. “you can zoom in.”

“that’s not the same thing!”

“sounds the same.”

“it literally isn’t!”

the garage erupts. the old fan rattles uselessly in the corner, guitar cables snake across the floor and choso stands in the middle, face red with frustration while sukuna lounges against the workbench like this is the funniest thing he’s heard all week.

“i’m not missing opportunities because you’re going to spain!” choso shouts.

sukuna shrugs, “good thing i’m not asking.”

“you can’t do that!”

“watch me.”

“ryomen!”

“choso!”

the younger teen looks seconds away from committing a felony, his jaw tightens, anger bubbling dangerously, “you’re possessively controlling.”

“shocker,” sukuna replies lowly, checking his phone after it buzzes.

“you can’t just drag people across the world!”

“sure i can.”

“i’m sixteen!”

“exactly.”

choso makes a strangled noise just as the garage door suddenly slides open.

“hey, i brought—” ino freezes, a pizza box hangs from one hand. his eyes dart between the brothers. “…oh.”

“tell him he’s insane!” choso shouts, voice cracking and pointing at the tattooed brother lounged in the corner on his phone.

“tell him i’m right,” sukuna says at the same time with less effort as his younger brother.

ino slowly starts backing out. “nope.”

choso’s jaw clenches, “ino.”

ino shakes his head more, “no.”

“ino,” choso’s words strain.

“naaahhhh man.” the teen points at both of them, pizza box fumbling. “last time i got involved in your family drama i got interrogated by psycho satan.” he means sukuna.

“that’s dramatic,” sukuna snorts.

“you threatened me,” ino huffs.

“that’s different,” sukuna casually scratches his large tatted bicep, with an added shrug.

ino frowns, “how is that different?!”

suluna shrugs, while the younger teen throws his hands in the air, choso’s black hair is messy and pushed out of his face from how much he’s run his hands through it. “he accepted the offer!”

“what offer?” ino asks.

“the spain one,” choso frowns, and sukuna eyes dart up, not realizing how many people knew about this offer. ino blinks, lips parting and eyes lighting up.

“…spain spain?”

“yes, spain spain,” choso snaps.

“like beaches?”

“yes.”

“europe?”

“yes!”

“yoooooo,” ino is smiling wide now, stepping further into the garage. “that’s so cool!”

“dude—“ choso snaps.

ino cringes, but the smile doesn’t go away, “sorry, but like DAAAAANG, remember a couple years ago, we talked about it—duuude,” ino’s attention shifts to sukuna, smiling wide. “congrats!!”

“what—stop glazing him!” choso interrupts, and ino holds back his tongue, conflicted.

“cool but like yeah, no, that’s actually insane, why does choso needa go with you? not cool,” ino falls in line.

choso relaxes just a bit, “thank you.”

“but also…” ino hesitates, and choso’s eyes narrows immediately.

“don’t.”

ino puts the pizza on the table, shrugging, “i’m just saying—”

“ino.”

“i mean…spain is kinda sick,” he plays devils advocate. and sukuna barks out a laugh.

“ino!” choso looks ready to throw his guitar right at his best friend. “you never help, shit friend.”

“he’ll get over it,” sukuna says to ino, who feels slightly guilty, opening the box to take out a slice while it’s hot.

“i won’t!” choso shouts, putting his guitar down.

sukuna ignores him, “he will.”

“i won’t!”

“you always do.” the words come out too casual, and for half a second, the garage falls quiet. choso’s jaw tightens, and sukuna’s grin fades slightly, watching his younger brother’s expression shift, the anger burning hotter. the same anger claws at sukuna’s own chest remebering why he has to force choso to come with him.

“I’m staying with gramps,” choso’s voice is lower. his own brain trying to wrap around the sudden information. he hadn’t even known that his brother accepted the offer when he wouldn’t even talk to anyone about it. and to find out he accepted it and was told it’s okay for him to bring his brothers without even asking him?!

“gramps is going to the lake with his war buds like he does every summers so yeah, you’re not staying here alone.” sukuna tsks, standing up. he glares at choso across the garage, waiting for choso to test him. the tension suddenly hits ino full force. the bickering had turned into something charged in a matter of seconds. his chewing slows, awkwardly.

“I’ll stay with ino,” choso pushes, eyes darting between sukuna’s.

“this lying shit?” sukuna scoffs pointing at ino without glancing at him.

ino chokes, coughing, “me?!!”

sukuna frowns, eyes narrowing sharply, “I fucking asked you if he saw that bitch of mom and you said no. that constitutes as lying.”

ino lowers his head.

“I told him not to say anything,” choso defends, “he’s my friend.”

“exactly why you’re not staying with him because he’ll lie and I won’t know if you see that woman again or not.” sukuna takes a step towards his brother.

“i took money from her,” choso tilts his head, clearly not afraid of the older as his eyes narrow. “I’m gonna give her that money back.”

“I don’t give a shit if you don’t or if you take more money from her. she owes you and yuuji a shit ton of money anyways,” sukuna stops in front of choso. an unknown look crossing the man’s face, and choso hesitates for a moment. “I have a problem that she laid her hands on you.”

choso’s jaw clenches, stepping away. “I stole money from her.”

“so you think you deserve to get hit?” sukuna snaps. choso rolls his eyes, grabbing a slice of pizza, forcing himself to act casual. “she’s a toxic psycho.”

“whatever, man,” choso mutters, dismissing the conversation about his mother. an uncomfortable twist settling deep in his stomach making him slightly nauseous. “I don’t wanna talk about her with you.”

“why because I don’t sugarcoat how horrible she is?” sukuna scoffs. choso’s defensive attitude quietly triggers the older. choso rolls his eyes again, gaze locked at the pizza, but sukuna catches it and ino sinks further in the corner. “stupid ass teen,” sukuna grabs his keys from his pocket, walking towards the door, opening the garage. “fucking proving my damn point by acting stupid as fuck.”

sukuna scoffs, pissing himself off as the memories of this woman flood his mind. jaw tensing as he looks at choso turning away from him. “mothers don’t beat their kids, and she was more of dad’s fucking mental patient than a mom to you”

“how the fuck would you know!” choso finally snaps. “your mom left and my mom isn’t yours, I have my own memories!”

“the ones when you were two?” sukuna scoffs, walking towards the parked pick-up truck. “I doubt you remember shit before you were twelve,” sukuna says the comment without realizing the flame he lit.

“I remember you going to jail too and losing your first club offer,” choso spits. “great example compared to her. definitely my role model!”

sukuna stops dead in his tracks, jaw tightening, he glances over his shoulder and choso doesn’t back down. “you’re more like her than me or yuuji are, so it’s pretty hypocritical that I’m being forced to go to spain with another psycho.”

mechamaru had just parked his car and is exiting when he hears the yelling from his friend’s open driveway. ino has attempted to blend in with the couch, empty plate in his lap while choso’s chest heaves. the strings in his heart strain ignoring the unfamiliar look on his brothers face. especially when sukuna fiddles with his keys with one hand, the jangling fills the tense air, before sukuna licks his teeth.

“at least I’ve never hit you guys.”

the response is deeply honest that choso pauses, unable to respond. sukuna swings his keys between his fingers, rubbing the back of his neck and walking down the driveway. he passes mechamaru silently, unlocking his truck.

the teens are left in defending silence minutes after sukuna’s already driven away. ino and mechamaru exchange looks, especially when choso disappears into the house to wash his face.

at some point the houses thin out and the ocean appears. the clouds hang low and heavy overhead, turning the late afternoon gray. rain threatening to fall any minute. sukuna parks in an empty lot overlooking the beach and kills the engine. his hands are locked around the steering wheel, staring straight ahead.

you’re more like her than me or yuuji are.

his jaw aches. choso hadn’t even sounded afraid when he said it, he was angry enough to mean it. sukuna drags both hands over his face, wishing he can claw at everything. “fuck.”

the word disappears, waves crashing against the shore, ahead as his phone vibrates inside. and miles away, parked beside an empty field, you do the same.

the hospital sits somewhere behind you, and your home is in the opposite direction, and neither destination sounds appealing. the engine is off. the windows are cracked. summer wind drifts through the car as you stare at absolutely nothing. your father’s voice rings around your skull making you rest your head against the window. you don’t want to go home or go back or do anything.

eventually your phone lights up.

after another few minutes of staring at the ocean, his hand finally reaches for his phone. notifications flood the screen, group chats, soccer shit, gojo being annoying, something from toji, and his thumb scrolls through the usual unopened messages until he sees a certain contact.

his thumb stops. three days ago.

crybaby: where’s the video of your brother’s band?

his gaze lingers. for some reason, that message irritates him less than everything else. he opens the chat and for a moment he considers not responding, his thumb mindlessly scrolls through your earlier conversation, until the photo you sent him fills his screen.

dumbass: they made it to the semifinals

a beat passes..

dumbass: i forgot to send the video

your phone vibrates against the passenger seat making you glance down and see his name, and despite the day you’ve had, despite everything, your chest loosens just a little.

crybaby: woww

crybaby: a whole 3 days later

crybaby: i was starting to think u hated me

sukuna snorts. his head tips back against the seat. outside, thunder rumbles somewhere over the water.

dumbass: good guesser

you roll your eyes, holding back a smile.

crybaby: haha u’re soo funny

sukuna scrolls through his camera roll. easily finding the video gojo had taken and sending it to you. you heart the message, and a few minutes later the texts flood in.

crybaby: WHAAAA

crybaby: WTHHHH UR BROTHER IS SO GOOD

dumbass: u def thought they were gonna be ass

crybaby: ngl…I wasn’t expecting much

dumbass: rude

crybaby: ONLY BC I’ve gone to a few in the past and RARELY r they ever good

crybaby: NO OFFENSE

dumbass: I’m offended

you don’t realize the smile on your face as you watch another video sukuna sends. relaxing back in your seat, jaw agape.

crybaby: no like actually wth — ur brother’s voice is making me tear up

crybaby: it’s so angelic esp for a hard rock band

sukuna snorts.

dumbass: crybaby

crybaby: did I say CRY? I said TEAR UP smh smhh

a few beats pass, not long enough for you to fully exit your messages, but long enough to watch the little typing bubble appear then disappear, and then your face fills your screen.

….incoming FaceTime from dumbass….

your lips part, cheeks warming as you easily click accept, the call connecting. sukuna’s face fills your screen, the camera angle is terrible, but somehow he still looks unfairly attractive.

the lighting inside the truck is dim from the storm clouds outside, shadows cutting across the sharp lines of his face. his pink hair looks soft, a few strands hang loose across his forehead. his tattoos disappear beneath the collar of his black shirt, the dark markings curling up the side of his neck. his forearm rests against the driver’s side window, broad shoulders, strong jaw—you hate how hot he looks.

on the other side of the call, sukuna feels much the same.

he expected your voice, but there’s something about seeing your face. your hair is slightly messy from your long day. you’re leaning sideways against the drivers seat, cheek pressed against the headrest of your car seat. golden evening light spills through the window in front of you, softening everything. you look tired, but pretty…really pretty. something in his chest loosens.

your eyes blink slowly, then narrow, “what happened to your face?”

sukuna’s brow furrows, “what?”

you lean closer to the camera, “your eye.”

his hand immediately comes up, glancing at the mirror in front of him. forgetting about the faint bruise caused by toji a few days ago, and barely noticeable to anyone except apparently you.

his fingers brush beneath it. “nothing.”

you stare and sukuna stares looks back at his phone, “that’s not nothing.”

“it’s nothing.”

“yeah definitely,” you sarcastically quip.

“it’s literally nothing.” your expression flattens. his matches yours instantly. neither of you budge. the silence stretches then—

“did you get punched?”

the offended look that flashes across his face almost makes you laugh. “the fuck kind of question is that?” he snaps.

you shrug fast, “it’s a valid question.”

“no it isn’t.”

“it is, since that’s what people who get punched in the face look like,” you say, like you’re some expert.

“speaking from experience?” he tosses, irritation scratching at your questions.

“yeah,” you lie, and he probably knows that, but still he leans back in his seat again. “it definitely looks like you got a bruise.”

“yeah, because i play a contact sport,” he huffs. you squint suspiciously as he rolls his eyes so hard it physically pains him. “gojo elbowed me in the middle of a game.”

“see?” you point triumphantly. “that wasn’t hard.”

sukuna tsks, “you’re annoying.”

“i was curious,” you shrug.

“it’s a bruise.”

“on your face.”

“you sound like yuuji.” the corner of his mouth twitches, barely there, but enough for the tightness in both of your chests to ease just a little. your lips part, still looking at the bruise.

“does it hurt?” your voice is softer, allowing something warm to settle in sukuna’s chest.

a smirk tugs on the players lips. “yeah. you gonna come make me feel better?” the teasing has your thighs clenching. his voice is low, deep, watching your eyes dart off screen. “where are you right now?”

you shift in your seat, flipping the camera to do a 360 of your surroundings. sukuna notices your bag in the passenger seat, “you get off work?”

“yup left early,” you flip the camera back, your phone on your lap as you fix your necklace in the mirror.

“you ditched?”

you laugh, “no,” you pick your phone back up, “I was kicked out.”

sukuna whistles. “bad girl. what’d you do?”

you shrug, leaning back in your seat, “I punched a patient.”

sukuna’s eyes blow wide, “you’re lying.”

you snort, “obviously,” you smile, pretty lips glossy as you wet them. “just had a chat with my dad and he told me to go home.”

“are you home?”

you shake your head, tilting just a bit as you watch sukuna through the phone. the silence fills both your environments. “doesn’t look like you’re home.”

“got work soon,” he answers, eyeing the curve of your jaw as you look out the window as if you weren’t parked in a deserted lot. still he can’t help the churning in his stomach as you fiddle with your earrings, lips parting again.

“so you gotta go soon?”

sukuna can’t fully read your emotions through a shitty phone screen, but he can catch the slight sweetness in your tone. and that was enough to pull a subtle smirk from him. he’s fully resting his back against his seat, arm propped on the open window holding his phone, while the other rests on his lap.

“I have some time,” he tilts his head, eyes narrowing a tad when you hum. “you have something in mind?”

you wet your lip, eyes twinkling as you nod your head. “yeah, i wanted to ask you a question.” he smirks, letting you continue. “how fast did you cum when i sent you that picture on saturday?” sukuna’s smile falters. “because you sent me a pic like three minutes later.”

you really love to push his buttons. the scowl is written all over his face. “i was already on edge, so i was doing it for awhile before you even sent it.”

your smile grows, if possible, a devilish twinkle in your eyes. “so i really helped you cum, ryo, hmm?” you wet your lip, and the action, coupled up with your sultry tone, has sukuna’s pants growing tight, “you made a big mess. cumming all over yourself like that,” you tsk, teasingly. “do you always make a big mess when you play by yourself?”

sukuna’s jaw tightens, his crotch swelling from your teasing. the bulge pushing up against his jeans, just as his palm digs against the evidence. unable to hide the fact that you’re turning him on.

“don’t be embarrassed, ry,” you coo with faux sweetness. “big boys make messes too.”

a loud, strangled scoff, escapes the man’s mouth. cheeks hot, as you continue degrading him. “suddenly y’er all confident because I can’t pin you down from here?”

you shrug, little smirk still playing on those pretty lips of yours. fuck, he misses having those lips on him. kissing you deeply, swallowing your whines and strangled moans. “am I not allowed to make you feel better?”

“fucking teasing me,” he grunts, jaw tightening as he palms his bulge.

heat pools between your legs, face warm as you see his shifting. “did I make you hard?” the excitement was obvious in your tone.

“don’t act surprised,” he mutters, flipping the camera to see the big bulge he’s gripping over his jeans. sukuna see’s the dizzy like look you have, lips parting.

“take it out.”

he smirks. you’re a little perv. and not so surprisingly, you see the uncoordinated moving as he unbuckles his belt, the phone dropping then getting raised again to see the way he pushes the waistband of his black Calvin’s, dragging it down. his dark pubes not as well groomed as it usually is, and that has you biting back a whimper.

fuck fuck, you miss pressing your face there, licking the coarse hairs, kissing his base.

and finally his hand wraps around the chubby length, freeing his semi-hard cock in his car. thunder cracks in the distant, rain starting to pour.

“gonna keep telling me what to do, or do you want closeups?” he teases, stroking his base lazily, biting his lip.

you shift in your seat.

“spit on it—“

you already see his spit fly and hit his flushed cock, immediately making your cheeks sting.

“c’mon, gotta keep talkin’ to me like my personal slut,” he hasn’t done anything since spitting on his cock, waiting for you to continue your directions. if you’re gonna act all dominant, then he’ll give you all the control…at least when you’re separated by a phone screen.

“stroke your cock…slow,” you command, wetting your lip as you watch him, and he listens. a wave of quiet confidence floods your head at his submission. “rub your slit with your thumb…yeah…” your lips part watching him stroke his cock. “faster.”

his breath is heavy behind the phone, grip tightening when he reaches the base, before twisting his hand back up, thumb collecting his pre and spreading it to the rest of his cock.

“do you usually jerk off like this?” your lewd curiosity always makes him smirk.

“I’m taking your direction.”

“jerk off like you usually do then…I wanna see,” you interrupt.

he snorts, loosening his jaw, before his pace picks up, tugging on his impressive size, collecting more pre and doing his best to self lubricate. his grunts are slightly louder, sending heat to your pussy, you can already feel your drenched panties.

“let go.”

a strangled noise comes out of him as his hand lets go making his cock bob between his legs, his thighs flex, jaw tightening as more pre cum leaks out in humiliation. “fuck.” he runs his hand on his abs, lifting his shirt higher, watching his own cock throb and twitch mid-air. the weight angling his cock down.

“ow!”

he doesn’t fully realize what you’re doing, until you yelp. his brows pinch, eyes narrowing because your phone is no longer on your face, but on the ceiling of your car.

“what’re you doing?” his words fall on deaf ears, when you’re suddenly lifting the camera back up, and revealing the state you’re in. you’re completely naked from the waist down, shirt pushed above those beautiful tits, and your lips all wet from how much your biting them. “fuck, baby.”

you smile, pushing the drivers seat further back to give yourself space, cheeks hot as you spread your legs. “lemme see your face, ryomen.”

he easily flips the camera back. you blush seeing the pink dusting his cheeks. “you like risky stuff,” he points.

“I’m alone.”

“still public.”

your lips part, rubbing your nipple, slowly teasing yourself. his eyes darken, gaze darting between your face and those beautiful perky nipples he wishes he could suck this very second. fuck, when you’d run your nails through his hair when he’d bite your perky buds and you’d moan so sweetly.

“you’re not even twisting them hard enough,” he tsks, watching you play with yourself…incorrectly. “how often do you touch yourself.”

“not as often as you touch me.”

sukuna chokes. you’re way too fast for him, and it catches him off guard every once in a awhile. he quickly recovers, “show me how wet you are.”

you listen, managing to face the passenger seat and have the phone propped on your bag.

“aw, you’re dripping,” he coos, biting his lip, as you run your fingers through the mess, spreading your pretty folds for him. “dirty girl,” he groans, hand sneaking down to his twitching hard cock—

“don’t touch yourself,” you cut possessively. “it’s my turn.”

“I didn’t even cum,” he tsks, but still eases back, thick legs spreading wider as he watches you shrug. “fine, lemme see how many fingers you can put in that little pussy.”

“one.”

“I said: let me see,” his voice drops an octave and that has you clenching and blushing all over. “lick your finger.”

you lean close to the camera, making a show of caressing your plump bottom lip, then easing your middle finger in. your suck the digit, eyes heavy as they look directly at sukuna. he silently watches, jaw loosening as he tries his best to keep his hand away, especially when you pull your middle finger out, flipping him off.

“cute,” he smirks, screenshotting. “put it in.” he tilts his head, humming as you sit back just a little. he eyes the way you open your legs, running your finger down your body, before circling your clit. your lips part and sukuna notices the way your back arches just a bit, finally pushing in, “theere we go.”

you hum along, jaw agape as you curl your finger in slowly pumping your finger. it’s not the same though. you hate having to do this shit yourself, it would kill the mood if sukuna wasn’t praising you on the other line.

“fuck, your pussy looks so pretty,” he groans, “so hot.”

you bite back a moan, lashes fluttering as you move your finger back to your clit. unaware of the disappointment until you hear a loud tsk.

“why’d you take your finger out?” sukuna barks.

you frown, still rubbing your clit, “It doesn’t feel as good.”

“bullshit,” he huffs, “put two fingers in.” your cheeks flush hot, collecting your arousal on your finger and teasing your hole again. “fuck your pussy like I told ya too.”

you wet your lips with attitude he can clearly read, especially when you add a sarcastic, “yes, sir.”

pre oozes from the brute’s twitching cock.

still, his eyes narrow with lust as he watches you dip your pretty little fingers in that tight hole. it’s always the initial stretch that has your lips parting. “keep moving your fingers. curl ‘em,” he husks, voice much lower and sexier, unbelievably turned on. “dirty girl fingerin’ herself in her car.”

you whine, back pressed against the door, as you angle your hips up, back arching as you continue fingering yourself, especially when you curl them and finally feel that spot. “got it?”

your glossy lips part, nodding, “y-yeah haah—ry-touch y’rself to me.“

fuck.

he doesn’t waste a second grabbing his cock and working himself up to the pace you’ve set. his own jaw clenches, watching your legs tremble as you pump your pretty fingers in and out, watching the way your fingers glisten every time you pull out, pretty nipples all hard and exposed, and lips glossy.

his thigh trembles, jaw tensing as he squeezes his base, holding himself back as you pull your fingers out to stimulate your neglected clit.

“good girl,” he husks under his breath, unaware of how much he enjoys watching you and getting jealous from nothing. you respond with a heavy sigh, tongue poking out as you feel yourself getting closer.

“gun- cum with me…ry-haah?”

he starts working his chubby cock, wishing to death he can feel the heat of your pussy against his swollen tip. “yeah, keep working those little fingers, make yourself cum.”

your whine pitches a little higher in the small car. thighs spreading wider as you stimulate your clit, oblivious to the low praises sukuna is muttering, feeling his heavy balls clench up. and just as your about to reach the edge, toes curling in your shoes, your phone tips over, hitting the ground just as sukuna hears you moan—

“anhh—“

“what the fuck!?”

you whine, back hitting the door as your legs close around your hand. lips parted as your chest rises with each heavy breath. you don’t even realize what happened until you hear your name being called, followed be another “where the fuck did you go?!”

your brows furrow, glancing at where your phone once was, then to its place on the floor of the passenger side. “oh.”

you move over the center, reaching down to lift your phone, and the moment your face comes to view, sukuna’s jaw tenses more.

“you came?”

your lips part sitting back in your seat. “yeah, I think i accidentally kicked my bag. did you cu—“

“no.” he cuts sharply. you suck your lips in to refrain from laughing. “cum again.”

your brows rise. “I can’t.”

sukuna barks out a humorless laugh. “I always make you cum more than once—“

“yeah, YOU—not ME. I don’t know how to overstimulate myself,” you reach for some tissues to clean yourself off camera. but sukuna groans loudly, cock throbbing as he works himself. “just imagine me cumming.”

his jaw locks, head tipping back so you can get a perfect shot of his sharp jaw. the silence stretches for a second before sukuna opens his mouth, refusing to look at his phone, missing the way your lips part, and face burns.

“talk into the phone then.”

your stomach flips with something you don’t want to name, especially when he tilts his head back clearly still working his monster of a cock that’s painfully red. “I’m close. speak.”

the command has you closing your thighs tighter, raising the phone to your lips, inhaling slowly, controlling the butterflies.

another beat passes before you finally begin.

“my fingers are so wet after cumming…” you dramatize a gentle sigh, “my pussy is so empty…I need your big fat cock filling my tight…little…pussy…ryo.”

“fuck,” sukuna’s jaw clenches harder, abs tightening as he aggressively twists his hand up his cock, thumb digging into his slit, much more aggressive than how you’d touch his cock, but he just needs to cum.

“can’t wait to see you, ryomen,” you exhale sweetly, adding a little pitched hum, “want you to use my pussy like it’s your pretty toy,” you blush at your own words, keeping it just a little over a whisper because if it was any louder than you might melt into the seat with embarrassment. but sukuna’s strained, low grunts, is reassuring. “fuck me until I can’t move, kiss me until I can’t breathe…you wanna kiss me right, pretty boy?” your cheeks sting viscously at the pet name that casually rolled off your tongue—

but then, a long deep groan comes from the back of the 6’4 footballer’s throat.

your entire body catches on fire, and a smile quietly tugs at the corners of your lips.

“you wanna kiss me that bad, baby?” you tease lightly, and even though sukuna refuses to reply, his strangled grunts, and sounds of his squelching cock being tugged, is enough reassurance to give you that final sentence that pushes him off the edge. “you also wanna stuff my pretty pussy right: wanna fill me with your thick…heavy cum, don’t you ryo?” you bite your lip the moment you hear the choke on the other end.

you quietly listen, pulling your phone to see that sukuna’s phone is forgotten in his lap. your finger playing at your lip, still smiling, waiting for sukuna to come down from his orgasm.

the man’s jaw is locked. head tipped back against the head rest. chest heaving. and face burning with a light shade of pink.

“you cum?” you break the silence, tone laced with something that twists in sukuna’s gut. the phone shifts, your face unable to stop your smile when you see his flushed face. your fingers still playing with your lips with faux innocence.

“yeah.” his clipped tone isn’t too harsh, but definitely shielding something else as he looks down at the mess. his jaw tenses seeing his cum covering his hand and splattered on the steering wheel. even if the phone is on his face, you can see the way his eyes are looking past it.

“you made a mess?”

he licks his teeth, eyes catching yours. “yeah.”

dang he’s cold. is he embarrassed? a warmth settles in your tummy at the thought. it’s hard to read him, but it’s even harder when it’s through the phone. either way, you shift around your car, putting your panties and pants back on and pulling your shirt down, fixing your bra. on the other end, sukuna is pulling his shirt off, and using it to clean the mess he made. jaw tensing every time your voice rings in his head again.

“who taught you how to talk like that?” he raises his hips pulling his pants back up, tucking his softening cock in.

your brow quirks lightly, “nobody lol,” you look back at your phone. “I was just going with the flow,” you smirk, head tilting just a bit that the man freezes, stomach flipping at the pretty sight on his phone and he instinctively just….*screenshot* “was I good?”

he makes a grumbling noise, then, “made me cum.”

“so, good?”

he rolls his eyes, “sure.” he ignores your smile as he finishes cleaning his mess. the buzzing of your phone interrupting. “you have to go?”

you hum, “yeah, gotta pick up shoko.” you text her that you’re on your way. sukuna looks back at his phone as he starts his car up, you do the same. “I’ll talk to you later, then.”

and the second sukuna gives an affirmative hum, you hang up.

as the days pass. neither one of you found your stress levels steady. instead, you were tested again and again, more rejection emails coming in for writing and producing programs you applied too for the summer. and as was sukuna with his brother’s attitude, especially with this weird phase that’s caught his attention with yuuji.

“I thought you were seeing megumi tomorrow?” sukuna glances up from his spot behind the bar, stopping mid-wipe down to see yuuji slinging his backpack on.

“we’re going to the beach today to see them set up before the festival tomorrow,” yuuji mutters, pushing his overgrown hair off his forehead in quiet annoyance.

sukuna’s brows pinch tight, “thought we were gonna do that?”

yuuji shrugs already walking to the back of the bar, large open windows lining the back that overlooks the beach. megumi and nobara wait outside, chatting. “s’fine,” yuuji stops by the door, “choso doesn’t talk to you, and you’re always busy—so whatever.”

sukuna tenses, grip curling around the dirty rag as his little brother turns and leaves. what the fuck?? since when has yuuji been cut and dry with him!?

just as sukuna stresses about his younger siblings, you’re wondering how much longer you have to hold yourself back until you tear your eyes out. another rejection email, that could’ve been the reason why your sudden stress skyrockets and then it immediately crashes after higuruma finally texts you after not hearing anything from him since you first got his number.

[12:34PM] hiromi higuruma: hey this is hiromi

[12:34PM] hiromi higuruma: sorry it’s been awhile but my uncle finally got back to me, he’s free thursday or friday around the afternoon to chat

[12:35PM] hiromi higuruma: lmk which day works so he can put it in his calendar before he gets booked

your lips part, standing outside a patient room staring at your phone. shit. your heart pounds rapidly against your ribs. you work until five everyday. your jaw tenses…just ask if he can do anything after—he can’t. unlike you, people can’t just move things around for you. your fingers quickly tap your screen.

[12:40PM] you: hii

[12:40PM] you: yea friday works for me, would this be a zoom call or phone call?

you see the bubbles appear, then disappear. you shift your weight, stomach churning.

[12:42PM] hiromi higuruma: shit

your stomach drops.

[12:42PM] hiromi higuruma: I forgot—you’re not based in the city?

[12:42PM] you: no, I’m back home for the summer

[12:43PM] you: would it be a problem doing it on zoom?

your back leans against the wall, stomach aching as you wait for his response. seriously, can one thing not work out in your favor?

[12:44PM] hiromi hirguruma: I’ll talk to him, but I think it’s better to wait until you’re back in the city and do it in person

[12:44PM] hiromi higuruma: only saying this bc he forgets everyone he talks too on zoom but he’ll be much more helpful if he meets you face to face, plus you’re a good conversationalist (js from my perspective) so you’d leave a good impression

a beat passes.

[12:45PM] hiromi higuruma: your call tho, i can still talk to him if u want

[12:45PM] hiromi higuruma: he's here all summer, so whenever you're back js Imk and I can set up a meeting

fuck!! your jaw aches, clenching down hard enough to break your teeth. hot tears sting behind your eyes, threatening to spill. you inhale sharply. grinding down harder on your teeth as you squeeze your phone.

what’s the fucking point in meeting with him now if he’ll just forget about you?

[12:47PM] you: oh okay, yeah I think it’s better in person then

[12:47PM] you: I’ll be in the city in august, is that okay?

your heart twists unbelievably tight, nails digging into your palm.

[12:48PM] hiromi higuruma: yeah for sure! and dw I’ll set a meeting up with u and him

almost like he can sense your disappointment through your hesitant texts. he sends another message.

[12:49PM] hiromi higuruma: how’s your summer?

wrong question…

[12:49PM] you: 😀 so good!

the bubbles appear then disappear, then:

[12:50PM] hiromi higuruma: that’s a sarcastic emoji right?

you can’t control the quiet chuckle that slips out.

[12:50PM] you: loll yeah

[12:50PM] you: its fine…working here…with my dad…yayy

higuruma seems to understand your tone as he responds.

[12:51PM] hiromi higuruma: u losing ur mind?

[12:51PM] you: nope

[12:51PM] you: y would u say that (I wanna kms)

[12:51PM] hiromi higuruma: (rip) just a hunch, guess I was wrong

a smile threatens your face.

[12:52PM] hiromi higuruma: don’t stress tho, my uncle has some rlly good connects so he’ll help u out

you bite your cheek, pushing down the anxious twists that’s been eating at you for months. you’re still waiting on another possible opportunity for the second half of summer, but now you’re scared if that falls through, all you’ll have is nanami’s friend’s uncle as a connection..

[12:52PM] you: thanks🥹🙏

[12:53PM] hiromi higuruma: how long is ur program?

[12:53PM] you: till the last week of july so js two-ish more weeksss

[12:54PM] hiromi higuruma: homestretch

[12:54PM] hiromi higuruma: u need a vacation after

[12:54PM] you: TRUSTT

[12:54PM] you: it is in the works🫡 my friends r planning it

[12:55PM] hiromi higuruma: where r u guys going?

you pause, lips parting.

[12:56PM] you: oh….i forgot

[12:56PM] hiromi higuruma: fr?

[12:56PM] you: no frrr shoko just told me to block off the dates but i actually forgot where we’re going bc they were planning it for awhile and i was too busy to pay attention

you cringe, trying to remember where shoko said satoru’s infamous mediterranean summer house is. either way higuruma responds with a cool message, unbothered by your lack of remembrance.

[12:57] hiromi higuruma: well it’s clear u need that vacation then

[12:57PM] you: 😪✊

you don’t realize you’ve basically been standing on your phone for awhile until a resident passes by, eyes flicking down.

“put the phone away before I tell your dad,” he mutters, and though the “joke” has been tossed around multiple times by the residents who know exactly what your relationship is with the chief of surgery, it doesn’t make it any funnier when you heard it the first time or the hundredth time —

your jaw tenses, glancing at your phone to see higuruma’s text.

[12:58PM] hiromi higuruma: make sure to stop in the city after tho and text me ahead of time

[12:58PM] you: i willlll

you shut your phone off, exhaling sharply as your head tips back. at this point…the only thing you’re looking forward to now is this trip. considering the second half of your summer is delayed after pushing this meeting back. and from the looks of it…you highly doubt you’re getting accepted into those writing programs.

“great,” you mutter to yourself.

your feet finally drag you away from the wall, and down the hall. unfortunately the pressure on your chest doesn’t leave, instead your mind quietly moves in circles as you continue the day’s work. unable to remove yourself completely from the stress of your future.

you smile at patients when they greet you. you laugh when shoko mutters something inappropriate under her breath. you still finish your notes, answer questions, make coffee runs, and remember to ask people how their weekends were. nothing is wrong enough for anyone to pull you aside and ask if you’re okay because you’re not falling apart. you’re just…tired. there’s a heaviness that sits beneath your ribs and makes everything feel harder than it should.

even when you check your phone during lunch. your conversation with higuruma sitting near the top of your messages. another month of waiting. another month of this feeling. you lock your phone just as someone calls your name, answering immediately.

it all keeps moving, dragging you along. the routine sucking you in. driving home as shoko talks from the passenger seat about the residents. about a movie she wants to watch. about a patient that yelled at her. about her not fully confident about her mcat studying methods. you nod and laugh, chiming in.

that’s how it goes in the mornings. driving at six am, music playing softly through the speakers. your eyes randomly burning behind your sunglasses, making you blink, unable to stop the tears from gathering for no apparent reason other than you can shake this heaviness on your chest. but it’s easy to wipe beneath your eyes during the red light. shoko doesn’t notice.

even at home, your sister asks how your day is, if you ate, how dad is, and you answer shortly without much thought. jennie watches you for a moment longer. her eyes lingering, opening her mouth like she’s going to say something before deciding against it. especially when you quietly play with yazzy now. playing with her barbie’s clothes in silence, clearly not fully present, but still able to pull a smile for your niece.

“fix her hair now!” yazzy shoves another barbie in your hand, the gum stuck to the ends making you scowl.

“why is there candy all over them?” you lightly scold, making yazzy cover her face with a doll, bashful and guilty.

“it was an accident!” she giggles, making you tsk lightly, giving her a faux disappointed look which earns you another loud giggle from her.

jennie quietly watches from the living room, eyes softening. she’s been gone for some time, but her concerns are present, so when shoko walks into the kitchen, her attention shifts momentarily.

“question,” jennie glances at the brunette. shoko hums, looking over her shoulder from the fridge. “how upset is she? because she’s working with our dad?”

shoko glances at you in the living room, the tv playing masking the conversation in the kitchen. “she hates it.”

jennie hums, looking down at her nails. “she said that?”

shoko nods, “she takes it on the chin though, but yeah…she hates it. she usually complains then feels guilty for complaining.”

that seems to twist something inside jennie, her jaw clenching. “yeah…she’s an idiot.” she mutters, hand rubbing her face. “there’s only so much you can tell her and she still won’t listen.” jennie stands straight. “it’s her life.”

shoko doesn’t respond. instead watching as jennie calls her daughter to head back to the hotel, and once they leave the house quiets, and you’re left alone with yourself.

you brush your teeth while staring into the bathroom mirror, foam gathering at the corners of your mouth as your reflection stares back. the faucet runs as you tilt your head. you look the same…same face, eyes, person — there’s no visible proof that anything is changing beneath your skin. but…you wonder if everyone else feels this way. is everyone secretly mourning versions of themselves they haven’t even become yet. are they walking around pretending everything is okay too? do they also hate where the direction of their lives are heading? can they even see what path they’ve taken—

you spit into the sink, washing your face.

once you crawl into bed, your room finally settles, feeling the darkness press close. and once again, your chest tightens. you think about the mcats. about the future. about all the people your age collecting internships and recommendations and certainty. you think about your father’s anxieties of your future. your mother’s concern. jennie’s harsh words—

you turn onto your side…then your back…then your other side. then…your eyes sting.

the tears build on their own, as they always do. your throat drying as you feel the warm liquid slide onto the pillow. you’re not sobbing. you don’t even know what you’re crying over. nothings happened. but eventually, sleep takes you.

“are you excited for college?” “what are you majoring in?” “you’re going to be a doctor, right?” “isn’t your dad a really good surgeon? my dad wants me to go into med school, but i don’t think i have the patience.”

the high school girls are packed into the locker room before gym, voices bouncing off metal lockers and tiled floors. someone’s trying to braid their ponytail in the mirror. another girl is complaining about wanting to get out of this gym period.

“wait, did they release decisions yet?”

“can your dad help me out when i’m looking for an internship?”

“yeah, you always work for your dad, so it’s not fair.”

“i’m jealous.”

your seventeen year old brain can only laugh, “it’s not like that,” you say automatically. but your friends only seem to double down. marking all your “wins” on one person who isn’t you.

“must be nice having your whole life figured out.”

the pressure in your chest tightens. you blink. you’ve heard these conversations a hundred times, so you should be used to them by now. but something tight twists in your chest. your fingers fumble with the combination lock on your gym locker. the metal slipping beneath your hands.

“you okay?”

“yeah,” your voice comes out too fast. you try again. however, it becomes harder to breathe, your vision blurring around the edges.

“shit!” your friend moves back just as you hit the lockers, falling to your knees as you grab your chest. is this a heart attack? people have heart attacks. can a high schooler have one? your dad would know—

“i can’t breathe.” the words tear out of your throat. your heart pounds harder, your fingers feel tingly and your head lightheaded.

“i can’t breathe.” you try again. nothing is coming out. air won’t come in. your hands shake violently, chest twisting.

“someone get the nurse!”

“she’s crying—”

you don’t feel the tears spill down your face before you even realize you’re crying. your chest hurts, your head spins, and the girls crowd around you.

—

the week leading up to the trip moved strangely, it was slow. the days blurred together as each individual hour stretched.

sukuna picked up more shifts at the bar, the smell of beer and musk clinging to his clothes long after he got home. when he wasn’t working, he was on the field by the beach, shirt sticking to his back beneath the summer sun as he played against whoever was willing to challenge him. usually it was gojo and geto. sometimes yuuji joined him, always laughing, but sukuna could feel the subtle shift. the kid lingered less…asked fewer questions, and as close as he is with gramps, even he wasn’t telling wasuke the full answer. and that was starting to make sukuna a little on edge.

then there was choso. it was inevitable after their argument. choso went out of his way to avoid his older brother and buried himself in rehearsals for the upcoming semifinals, spending more nights at ino’s, then with yuuji or gramps.

meanwhile, you’ve settled deeper into a routine. the hospital shifts, and early mornings that made you want to claw your eyes out. the drives with shoko that always eased you a bit. but then there was the wedding that jennie came for. and every aunt and family friend had something to ask. was there anyone special? were you talking to someone? how is it going into your senior year of undergrad? had you started studying for the mcat? have you taken the mcat yet?

your mother brushed them off, while your sister laughed because dating felt like the last thing on your mind. you smiled through it all, even as your stomach twisted tighter with every question you couldn’t answer honestly.

and then there was your father. he’d become quieter after the incident in the staircase, polite but distant in a way that unsettled you more. is he disappointed you aren’t taking the mcat yet? did one of the residents say something about your performance? you don’t ask. you just keep the questions with you, swirling in your mind whenever you see him.

none of the stress eases. not even when you quietly see sukuna in gojo’s ig stories. not even when yazzy tries to teach you and shoko a new dance move she’s learning. not even when your sister finally heads to the airport. none of it seemed to scratch that itch that kept your mind loud and irritating.

“did you get any sleep?” shoko pulls her shirt off, slipping into her scrubs. you stifle a yawn, shaking your head as you pull your scrub pants up. shoko yawns along with you, but exhales loudly afterwards. shaking her hands as she gives you smile. “last day though!”

your lips part, eyes widening, “oh snap.” and maybe that was what you needed because you’re suddenly smiling with shoko, laughing as you look at your phone. “last day!”

shoko hums, smiling wider as you both start dancing. and that definitely could be considered the longest, and best day of your week. and before you can blink, you’ve packed your suitcases and kissed your mom goodbye as she drops you and shoko off at the airport.

and with full unbridled honesty, you knew the best part of this trip was the excuse of being away from everything and everyone, and that’s what you’ve convinced yourself is what you need.

even after hours trapped in a middle seat, struggling to fall asleep, awkwardly folding yourself away from the men occupying both armrests beside you, you endure it. by the time the plane lands, your eyes burn with exhaustion and dark circles sit beneath them. the warm air greets you outside carrying the scent of salt and sunscreen.

you and shoko collect your luggage in a daze, exchanging tired glances until your attention catches on a sharply dressed man near the exit, holding a sign with both your names.

and that’s when your oasis begins.

the drive stretches along the coastline, blue water glittering beneath the afternoon sun. the mediterranean houses blur past the windows. shoko rests her cheek against her fist while you stare outside, feeling something inside your chest tighten again. what’re you even taking a vacation for?

you turn the corner into the neighborhood and your jaw drops. a villa sits at the end of the hillside like something straight out of a movie, and beyond the property is the ocean stretching endlessly, waves crashing.

“…you’re kidding,” you breathe.

shoko lets out a low whistle, stepping out of the car, “i forgot how disgustingly rich he is.”

the front doors slide open before either of you can fully process the sight, grabbing your suitcases.

“well, well, well!”

of course, the first thing you see is satoru gojo. he stands at the entrance wearing nothing but black swim shorts and a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his white hair, arms spread wide like he’s welcoming royalty into his kingdom. his skin is slightly tanned, abs glistening, and veins crawling up his forearms.

“took you guys long enough,” he announces obnoxiously. “i’ve been suffering all alone.”

“you’ve been posting pool pictures for three days with everyone,” shoko deadpans.

“but we’re still missing people,” gojo rebuts.

shoko laughs despite herself, stepping forward to wrap him in a quick hug. gojo squeezes her dramatically before turning his full attention toward you, who’s still dragging your suitcase across the polished floors, gaze darting between the towering ceilings, the sweeping staircase, and the ocean visible through the open living room.

“…what the hell,” you murmur. “this is insane.”

gojo’s grin somehow widens, “i know.”

you finally look at him properly, “thanks for letting me join,” you say, sincerity slipping into your voice before you can stop it. “seriously.”

for a brief moment, he looks genuinely touched, then— “well, it’s the least i can do,” he says, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “i’ll just need significantly more praise from you and sho for being such a generous, handsome host—”

“sure,” you cut him off easily, making him pout. but you finally step closer, wrapping your arms around him in a greeting hug anyway. “thank you, satoru.”

the complaint dies in his throat. “you’re welcome,” he says quickly but sounding almost suspicious of your sincerity before recovering instantly. “see? this is why you’re my favorite guest.”

“sure,” you sarcastically hum. “I’m just guessing you say that to everyone.”

“i do not.”

“you literally called utahime your favorite yesterday on facetime,” shoko points out.

“that was an obvious lie,” gojo shrugs.

“you definitely told geto he was your favorite,” shoko adds quickly.

gojo points, “he’s my favorite best friend.”

you glance between them, exhausted laughter bubbling out of you despite the lingering ache behind your eyes. sunlight pouring through the windows.

your suitcase stands forgotten by the doorway. somewhere outside, waves crash against the shore. and as gojo continues arguing with shoko about favoritism while leading you deeper into the villa. more people start coming into view.

“ahhh!! finally!!” a familiar voice booms, suddenly seeing a blur before you’re being engulfed in a hug by utahime. “it’s been hell with just these guys!”

gojo snorts, rolling his eyes, “why don’t you go ogle yuno, you perv—“

the harsh slap to his bare arm shuts him up, utahime glaring at him as she looks over her shoulder. luckily, yuno was still chatting loudly with nanami and some other guy you weren’t familiar with.

geto takes the attention as he steps in from the front door, sunglasses on and hair tied in bun. a smile immediately comes to his face when he spots more people. “it’s finally starting to feel like a vacation.”

you and shoko are taken upstairs. your suitcases bump softly against the polished tile floors as gojo launches into an overly detailed tour that neither of you retain, and something shoko’s already heard before.

but what you do manage to take in is how the villa becomes even more breathtaking the more you see of it. the arched doorways connecting the rooms, the patterned tiles lining the hallways, and carved wooden accents softening the stone walls. the villa held about eight bedrooms, and you and shoko barely process the number before finding yourselves in your room—or rather, your suite.

utahime’s presence is immediately obvious. her clothes are draped over the armchair near the balcony doors, makeup bag open across one of the dressers, bikinis and dresses laying on two of the beds, and several pairs of shoes already claimed near the closet.

“she really made herself at home,” shoko mutters.

you hum softly, too distracted by the room itself. two queen-sized beds sit beneath the exposed wooden beams, white linen curtains swaying every time the wind passes through the open balcony doors. the adjoining layout gives the three of you more than enough space, and the balcony utahime had apparently secured for the girls stretches across the back of the villa.

you wander to the open balcony before you can stop yourself, curious as to what the view is. warm air brushes against your dampened skin from the journey, but you’re immediately welcomed by the scent of salt and blooming flowers. below, you see the large pool, and then past the trees that circle the property, are terracotta rooftops of other villas, then the coastline in the distance. you can see the ocean glittering invitingly.

eventually, you peel yourself away making your way to the shower, washing away the hours of sticky travel air. the warm water loosens the knots in your shoulders, the steam clouding the mirror. by the time you emerge in an oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts, toweling your hair dry, your body feels impossibly heavy.

the room is empty. you can hear shoko and the rest of the group outside from the open balcony. but all you can manage to do is walk across the tiled floor, barely managing to crawl onto the bed to turn of your phone alarm. your eyes struggling to stay open as you uncap your bottled water and swallow your scheduled pill. and once it goes down your throat, you toss the birth control pills back in your bag, and hit the warm sheets. you sink into the mattress with a relieved sigh.

the balcony doors remain open. the breeze filtering through the curtains. setting sun painting soft patterns across the tiled floor. and somewhere between one blink and the next, lulled by the sound of the ocean just beyond the villa walls, the exhaustion from everything finally catches up to you.

your eyes eventually drift shut.

unaware of what’s taking you so long, shoko and utahime go upstairs after an hour, freezing once they see you passed out.

“what the—“ utahime frowns. “we’re gonna go out to eat, wake up—“

utahime’s words die feeling shoko tug her out of the room.

“just let her sleep,” shoko cuts. “she’s been stressed for weeks, and i feel bad.” shoko’s voice is much softer, eyes down as utahime glances at her expression, then at the closed door.

“did something happen?” utahime’s brows are pinched.

shoko steps away from the door, shrugging, “I dunno,” a beat passes. “her sister just told me she doesn’t sleep well when she’s stressed, so just to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t drink too much if she’s still, like,” shoko tries to find the right words. “funky, I guess. so like…this is a good chance for her to catch up on her sleep and relax a bit.”

utahime nods, immediately. “for sure. I’ll keep an eye on her too then— and we can help her destress in these next two weeks!—“ utahime suddenly slaps a hand over her mouth after she basically shouted.

shoko chuckles, but hums along.

the two had the right idea leaving you to sleep. you knocked out for the rest of the day, and by the time you wake up, the sun is only a few minutes from rising. you were slightly confused, having slept for so long. groggy, you sit up and blink around the unfamiliar room. the pale morning light filters through the open balcony doors, the curtains shifting softly with the breeze. and once you see the two other people sleeping in the room, you realize where you are.

utahime is asleep beside you, laying on her side hugging her pillow. shoko is sprawled across the other queen bed like a starfish, blanket tangled around her legs.

and you simply sit there, still waking up, until your stomach starts growling. you rub your eye, reaching for your phone, happy someone had put it in the charger.

6:02 a.m.

“…damn” you mutter to yourself, you hadn’t eaten since the shitty airplane food. careful not to wake either of them, you slide out of bed and slip out of the room.

the villa is quiet in that way when everyone’s still asleep. it’s peaceful and calming. you notice a few abandoned glasses still sitting on the kitchen island from the night before. some half-finished bags of chips on the counter and couches. through the open doors, the warm morning air drifts inside carrying the scent of the ocean.

gojo’s pretty rich to not care that all the back doors are wide open, you think.

you rummage through the mediterranean style kitchen until you find bread, cold cuts, cheese, and enough ingredients to throw together a decent sandwich. then with a plate in hand, phone tucked beneath your arm, you wander outside. the backyard overlooking the hillside below, terracotta rooftops spilling toward the ocean in the distance. the pool reflects the pale pinks and oranges beginning to stretch across the sky. and you settle onto one of the lounge chairs by the pool. your legs curl beneath you as you scroll mindlessly through your phone between bites of your sandwich.

it’s nice and quiet, and your shoulders sink further into the chair, slowly beginning to force yourself into a vacation mindset. and because of that, you don’t hear the front door open, or the footsteps crossing the brown tiled floors.

what you suddenly hear, mid-scroll, is a heavy unexpectedly loud thud of a duffle bag hitting the ground startling the living hell out of you. your heart hitting your ribs.

“…what the fuck?!”

you yelp entire body jerking, nearly tumbling off the chair as your heart launches straight into your throat. you’re still holding your sandwich, immediately whipping around to see the perpetrator.

and standing in the middle of the living room. black soccer shorts hanging low on his hips, a loose black t-shirt stretching across his shoulders. a cap resting in one hand, headphones around his neck. suitcase standing beside him, and a worn-in duffle bag abandoned at his feet….is sukuna.

he looks like he just got off a flight, slightly sweaty, slightly irritated, slightly exhausted, and unbelievably attractive. his scowl is already in place from being startled by the scream, but then he pauses once he sees you.

his eyes drag over your messy sleep-tangled hair, oversized shirt, bare legs tucked awkwardly beneath you on the lounge chair, and the bite of your sandwich still sitting in your mouth as you slowly chew. the edge of his expression shifts, not quite a smile, but something softer than his scowl.

“…the fuck are you screaming for?” he asks.

you stare at him, chewing the rest of your sandwich that flew out when your screamed. he stares back.

“…you look a mess,” you finally say through your bite.

his gaze flickers over you once more. “i think you’re looking in a mirror,” he replies flatly.

and just like that, sitting barefoot beside the pool at six in the morning with food in your mouth and your heart still hammering against your ribs, you can’t explain the way your shoulders ease a bit.

“asshole,” you reply with no bite. sukuna hums, sliding his backpack off and dropping his cap, headphones, and phone on top of his duffle before walking towards you. you swallow the bite you’d been chewing just for sukuna to kneel on the ground beside you, inspecting your sandwich.

“what is that?”

you glance at it, then down at him, your cheeks warming in seconds. he’s so close. “turkey, cheese, olives—“

“olives?” his large hand wraps around your hand, holding the sandwich.

you raise a brow, “yeah, it’s good—wha!” your eyes blow wide when he suddenly takes an obnoxiously large bite out of your sandwich. “what the hell!” you shove his shoulder back, making him loose his balance and catch himself on his annoyingly big arm, but it was too late. he’s chewing your sandwich, as you frown. “you didn’t even ask.”

“y’ didn’t look like you’d give me a bite if I asked,” sukuna speaks with his mouth full.

you scowl, “obviously, it’s mine. you can make your own, tch.”

sukuna continues chewing, still sitting back on his arm, eyes heavy as he stares up at you from your spot on the lounge chair.

you frown right back at him. even half-awake, with travel exhaustion weighing down your limbs, your expression pinches in annoyance. your brows pull together, nose wrinkling slightly, and your grip tightens around your sandwich.

his gaze lingers, “your eyes are bloodshot,” he finally says. you blink at him. “did y’ get any sleep?”

you take another pointed bite before answering, glaring at him over the edge of your sandwich, “yeah, actually. i slept the second i got here and missed dinner,” you narrow your eyes. “which means the first thing i’ve eaten since yesterday is the sandwich you freaking stole.”

sukuna scoffs, “dramatic.”

“you took half of it!” you screech lowly.

“that’s not half.”

“you have no idea what half means.”

his eyes drift downward before returning to your face. you’re sitting cross-legged on the lounge chair, turning slightly away from him now as you continue eating, subtly trying to finish it before he tries to take another bite. which he probably would do, just seeing the way he’s eyeing it.

sukuna feels a quiet tug beneath his ribs. the morning sun finally stretches over the horizon, painting gold across the pool water and catching against your soft skin. you’re still grumbling under your breath as you chew.

“you’re unbelievable,” you mutter.

he pushes himself up a little straighter beside your chair, his calloused palm rests on your bare thigh. “one more bite?” he asks.

you let out a humorless laugh, “yeah, as if.”

he lifts a brow, squeezing your thigh, “c’mon I’m starving. the plane’s breakfast was ass.”

“make your own then,” you say through another mouthful, keeping your free hand against his shoulder to keep him at arm’s length. he glances down at it, then back up at you.

annoyance flickering across his face. “seriously?”

you glance between his eyes, swallowing and taking another bite, “yeah.”

“one more bite.”

“there’s barely any left though,” you whine, keeping his shoulder back as he tries to get closer. but he clicks his tongue before wrapping his hand loosely around your wrist, pulling your palm away from his shoulder with little effort.

“selfish,” he mutters.

you nearly choke. “selfish?” you repeat, staring at him in disbelief. “you’re tryna steal my breakfast.”

“whatever,” he scowls, still holding your wrist. “I’m hungry.”

“ryomen.”

“what?”

“make your own sandwich.”

he stares at you. you stare back. then, without warning, he reaches for your wrist that holds your sandwich, making you gasp loudly, using your legs now to keep your bodies apart. “don’t—“

your free hand wiggles in his grip while he leans over, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as your horrified complaints echo through the otherwise peaceful sunrise. your body struggles as he takes control, easily manuring himself onto the lounge chair, your knee keeping him away, as the other squirms to move between your body, but hanging loosely around his torso.

“ryo pleasee,” your whine rings so clearly, he can’t contain the flip in his stomach. he stops.

your chest is rising and falling from the struggle, anxiously glancing at him, brows pinched expecting him to pull your wrist to his mouth, but he remains still. staring down at you. then at your lips. then back at your eyes.

and suddenly, your legs are loosening, heart beating against your ribs, and letting sukuna fit himself comfortably between your legs. his hand holding your free hand, carefully brushes beneath your jaw before settling against the side of your neck. it’s warm and familiar. the morning breeze lifts strands of your hair across your face, and for a second, neither of you move.

waves crash in the distance. birds calling out in the pale sky. sunlight spilling over the terrace, painting soft lines across the sharp planes of sukuna’s face. his eyes don’t leave yours, and you can feel his breath against your lips, warming a deep spot in your tummy.

“you good?” you whisper eventually, voice smaller than you intend.

his gaze flickers down again. your mouth, then back to your eyes. then groggy, and voice much deeper then before, he mutters… “been a minute.”

your stomach flips. wetting your lips unconsciously, and sukuna’s eyes sharpen at the movement, barely blinking before you feel his firm lips against yours.

the breath leaves his lungs in a quiet rush. there’s a desperation hidden beneath the steadiness he tries so hard to maintain. but his hand tightens ever so slightly where it rests against you.

your lips move in sync like muscle memory. it’s familiar and instinctive. your fingers drift upward, threading through the soft strands at the nape of his neck before settling against his scalp. he releases a gentle exhale against your mouth at the contact, making your pulse stumble. sukuna leans closer without realizing it, his broad shoulders block out the morning sun as he deepens the kiss. your lips part on instinct, welcoming his tongue.

you can’t explain the urge that grows inside you the longer you kiss. the make out feels unbelievably calming, his grip tight around the lounge chair above your head, his knees digging into the seat, and his tongue swallowing your moans that have his pulse stuttering. your nails scratch at his scalp, threading through the pink locks digging gently.

“you taste like my sandwich,” you murmur with a clipped tone, tongue kissing his as he hums.

“yeah, fuck if I care,” he so easily brushes off the attitude to kiss you again. there were only two bites of your sandwich left, but you still held on to it, even as sukuna skillfully traced your bottom lip with his tongue. his hips lowering just to press his semi-bulge right against your clothed cunt, and that was enough to note the way your breath catches.

he can’t put into words how much his body needed you. just seeing you when he first walked in after his shit flight had his chest twisting, and now, kissing you…he feels every second relieving the weight on his shoulders.

your nails scratch at his scalp, tugging gently just to have him pull away, his eyes watching the way you catch your breath. lips all pretty and wet from him. eyes slightly dazed as you stare up at him, face lit softly with a healthy glow that has him leaning down again. he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your bottom lip, caressing your tongue as it meets again.

“you didn’t send me any more pics,” he mutters.

your cheeks flush, nails caressing his nape. “you didn’t ask for more.”

“it should be unspoken.”

you snort, leaning closer when he pulls away, “it’s not now.”

sukuna grumbles, jaw ticking for a moment until your lips find each other again, your legs wrap around his torso, letting him put his weight on top of you, unbothered by the plane’s air that still clings to him. “give me a bite of the sandwich,” he mutters, trailing his lips down to your neck. and even if it’s been weeks, he still finds your sweet spot in seconds, nipping at it. your breath catches in your pretty throat, whining shyly when he licks the spot again with his warm tongue.

“no,” you say, managing to take another bite, doing your best to chew it as fast as you can, even with the bread being so thick, sukuna catches your wrist again. your eyes widen, watching him move your hand to his open mouth, taking the last bite.

you groan with a mouth full, eyes harsh as they glare up at him. the two of you chewing all the while his hand finds its way to your waist, slipping under your shirt to caress your bare skin.

“is it too hard for you to make a sandwich?” you speak with your mouth full, swallowing bites but still chewing.

“yeah, it is,” he replies coolly.

your brow twitches in irritation. but you still can’t help the way your gaze lingers. it’s been almost two months, and somehow he looks exactly the same. however, his salmon hair has grown out just enough to brush against the nape of his neck, it’s slightly damp from the warm weather. his shoulders seem broader than you remember, his t-shirt stretching across his frame. his veins stand out beneath his sun-bronzed forearms, hands rough and familiar where they rest against the lounge chair and your bare waist.

even sitting there, lazy and half-awake from travel, there is something unfairly imposing about him. it’s all familiar, but it could be the distance apart that has you pointing out the sharp tattoos again, the intimidating size difference, and the quiet confidence of him, painfully aware of what his body does to you.

your eyes drift over the dark tattoos peeking beneath his sleeves and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. his beefy thighs crowding the edge of the chair when he shifts, solid beneath his worn soccer shorts. he’s inconveniently attractive, stealing your sandwich like a jerk, familiar arrogance seeping with each glance your way, and his typical scowl…but still, your fingers almost ache with the remembered habit of tracing his inked skin beneath your fingertips, wanting to hear the low huff he’d give you in response.

you don’t miss him…but you do miss this pull of wanting someone who always feels just out of reach, but still appears right in front of you when you need him most.

“good-fuckin’-sandwich,” he finally swallows, licking his lips. he leans down with little effort, and high confidence, pressing his lips to yours again. body moving on top of you, rolling his hips down just to hear your little hiccup, your hand suddenly presses against his shoulder, pushing. he barely moves, but he does pause, pulling away enough to keep his face hovering close. “what? you mad I took the last bite?”

you roll your eyes, ready to respond when your stomach suddenly pierces the air with a loud grumble.

the sound has the frat boy freezing, glancing down. your lips part, cheeks flaring, glancing away as sukuna sits up just a little. “you seriously didn’t eat anything?”

“I told you I haven’t eaten,” you tsk, cheeks inflamed from the sound, desperately trying to ignore the caresses of sukuna’s hand under your shirt, thumb brushing your torso, suddenly pushing the material of t-shirt higher revealing more of your torso.

the air grows awkwardly uncomfortable, neither of you saying a word, and him not responding has you growing slightly more aware of the position he has you in. you don’t want to address it, you seriously, strongly, want to ignore how he’d just made himself comfortable with touching you after being apart for weeks. but that sudden thought as you pushing yourself up.

your hand climbs up his chest, curling your fist around his collar. and with little resistance, you tug him towards you.

“I’ll make another sandwich,” you mutter, your pretty chest rising with each breath. “you can keep kissing me…” his eyes flick between yours, they’re heavy with either exhaustion, lust, or both, but then you whisper the precious words he’s been dreaming of hearing this close, with your warmth wrapping around him, and your scent making his head spin… “please, ryo.”

his lips twitch up, arm wrapping around your waist, holding you close from under your shirt. then your heart skips a beat. his head tucks down to your shoulder, burying his face there, pulling you to his chest.

your lips part, cheeks burning hot as he hugs you closer. his fingers dig possessively around your waist, bicep flexing around.

the summer breeze wraps around you. heart beating aggressively against your chest. fingers twitching trapped between your bodies, his hot breath fans against your neck. seagulls fly above you, the sky clear as day. but none of it can be fully processed, not when sukuna is hugging you like it’s been years since you’ve seen each other.

“r—“ you stop yourself when a warm kiss is pressed against your neck. then another. his hand brushes up and down your warm torso, making you always aware of his presence. slowly trailing kisses up your neck, subtly inhaling more of your flowery scent.

his cheeks sting, and he feels the heat crawl up his neck as his bulge grows harder. but he doesn’t stop peppering your burning skin with wet kisses. he pays a certain spot with more attention, sucking just a bit harder, smiling subtly when he hears your cute hiccup-like-moan.

“y’know,” he mutters against your skin, sucking another light hickey on your pretty neck, barely noticeable. he doesn’t wait for you to respond, your fingers twitching at his waist, holding his shirt. “I’ve been thinking’ bout how you got naked in your car,” your cheeks sting as the memory resurfaces quickly. “and how you fingered this pussy ‘cause I asked ya too,” you don’t have to look at him to hear the devilish smile he’s sporting. “then you fucking knocked over the phone when you came.”

your lips part in a quiet gasp, “it was an accident—“

he tsks, “still.” you blush. “I wanted to see it.” his hand brushes higher, unbothered by how he’s pushing your shirt up, revealing your lower back to the warm air. your skin is just so soft under his rough palm, and you fit perfectly against him. “you’ve been teasing me.”

your eyes go wide, “me?!—haah—“

the moan has your face bursting into flames, his teeth sink into your neck. your hand finding its way to his bicep, nails digging in, as he licks the mark he leaves. his lips skim up your neck, warm breath fanning gently until your lips are parting to inhale the same air.

“yeah, you,” his eyes flick over your lips. “with that call, and the one before that, and your photo.” he wets his bottom lip, a sinister smirk exposing his sharp canines. and in that moment you feel like he’d swallow you whole any second. “and now you’re lounged out here waiting for me.”

that’s when a a loud scoff leaves your lips. cheeks aflame. “as if. I didn’t even know when you were coming. it’s a coincidence.”

a disbelieving hum resounds from his throat. “so you were camped out here in these little shorts,” he tugs the hem of your shorts. “and this shirt wearing nothing underneath, for who then?”

you raise a brow, amused by him, forearm casually resting on his shoulder as you look back at him. “would you believe me if I said it was for me?”

he clicks his tongue.

you hum, glancing away for entertainment, free hand coming up to your chin. sukuna sits still, surprisingly patient, almost like you both have all the time in the world. it was unnervingly attractive. but you still decide to tease him, amused by the thought so you say it.

“then it was for satoru.”

and the moment that name leaves your lips, the reaction is far from what you’ were expecting. sukuna’s once calm features shift into a sudden disgusted scowl. the expression catches you so off guard that you suddenly burst out laughing, right in his face.

“fuck outta my face,” he spits.

you laugh even louder, hand coming up to your mouth trying to control yourself. “what? you don’t believe me?”

your push has sukuna rolling his eyes to the back of his skull. “playin’ in my face.”

“pleaseeee,” you cackle, adjusting yourself higher, waving a hand in front of him. “I was—I meant to say it’s for suguru.”

you visibly see the twitch in his eye, and that has you laughing louder hitting his chest as your head falls back. “I’m DEAD, you’re actually killing me!!” your laughing is so loud it irks him how much you’re getting a kick out of his reaction. he also ignores how cute your stupid laugh is after not hearing for so long. “cmon, it’s no biggy, wearing this skimpy little thing for my suguru.”

“your suguru,” sukuna spits back, disgust laced in every word.

you nod, bitting your top lip as you hold in your laughter, even if your eyes are laughing. “it makes sense, since me and him are sharing a room.”

his body suddenly goes dead still. “you’re fucking with me.”

his tone has you laughing louder, unaware how much that bothered the footballer. “you don’t believe me?”

sukuna rolls his eyes, loosening his jaw as he exhales through his nose. “daamn, relax ryo.” you coo, hand coming up to squish his cheeks. “tough month? you can’t take my little jokes anymore?” your faux pout has him scowling immediately, but his cock jumps at the expression.

“ragebait,” he mutters. you softly snort, smile lighting up your face, then your pretty head tilts for him. so fucking pretty.

“aww, that wasn’t my intention,” you coo.

the lie has sukuna scoffing, eyes flickering between your insincere doe eyes, and it tickles an itch deep in his core. “I was just playing with you,” you playfully squish his cheeks again, watching the way his lips purse together. he’s so cute.

his hands rest on your waist, staring straight into your eyes, and he unknowingly allows you to mess with him. enough that a string tugs at his chest.

“you mad?” your lips part slightly when he doesn’t respond, your eyes still holding a playful spark in them.

“yeah.”

it was a detectable lie that has your pretty lips pulling into a smile you can’t control. “yeah?” you’ve seriously grown confident in your time apart, and it’s unbelievably attractive. “but I thought it was pretty funny. you can’t be mad about that, can you?”

your thumb brushes the morning shadow on his chin, the stubble beyond attractive. but sukuna is too busy clicking his tongue at you to notice the way you’re checking him out whilst pushing his buttons. “I can. do you see me laughing with ya?”

you purse your lips, smile spilling out wide. you shake your head, then you push yourself up. your pretty legs are loose around his hips, your fingers gently curling under his chin, wetting your bottom lip with a soft hum.

“I don’t,” your voice is low, sweet. his jaw tenses slightly, waiting for you to act, and surprisingly you catch it. and you start smiling again. “you’re so patient, ryo.”

his breath catches, covering it with a loud, offended scoff. “maybe finish your sentences,” he snaps. “y’ keep fucking trailing off.”

you smile, leaning close to his face. breath warm against his lips. “I just answered you though,” you trail off again, purposefully. your lips hover over his, slowing your breath, lashes fluttering like a subtle seductress. and it works. he leans closer, wanting your warmth to encompass him even more. his cheeks a stained dark pink as you exhale softly. “you just like listening to me…don’t you?”

your smile is unbelievably beautiful, but his remains still, glaring at you through his dark lashes. his thick brow quirks. “i don’t remember ya being this cocky,” he mutters and there isn’t much heat behind the insult.

your smile only widens, “I didn’t realize how easy you make it,” you coo softly.

his brow twitches, “don’t flatter yourself.”

“mm.” your fingers drift along the collar of his shirt, eyeing the tattoos that peak, then meeting his crimson gaze again. “too late.”

the morning breeze curls around the two of you, the scent of salt and sunscreen drifts through the quiet villa. the pool glitters behind him and still, neither of you moves away.

his eyes drag over your expression, lingering on the curve of your smile and the amusement brightening your face. he’d spent weeks listening to your voice through a phone speaker, catching glimpses of you through photos and stories, and now that you’re here, he finds himself unable to take his hands off you.

you tilt your head. “what?” you ask, trying and failing to sound innocent.

“you’re annoying,” he cuts.

“but…” you lean closer, your lips brushing his, and he barely reacts. “you haven’t asked me to stop.”

something shifts behind his eyes. the confidence in your expression flickers for half a second, replaced by something softer, and something he sure as shit brushes away. but the teasing quiets just enough for his stomach to twist.

“tell me ryo,” you murmur quietly, voice just above a whisper. the sweetness drips into his ear like honey. his cock straining in his shorts, unable to control his body’s reaction to you. “you like being teased…right?”

his mouth twitches. “you fucking with me again?”

you slowly shake your head, staring into his eyes, twirling his hair around your finger. “you can tell me,” you tug at his hair lightly. “I don’t judge.”

he’s leaking for sure. the clear outline of his cock would be embarrassing if he wasn’t packing. and even with how obviously turned on he is, how flushed his ears are, and how blown his pupils have gotten. he still manages to hold his composure, and bite back a shit eating grin.

“cute,” his arm tightens around your waist, the other dragging up your thigh, pushing up your shorts. his bulge is pressing directly onto your shorts, and his sharp canines almost make him look animalistic. “I don’t think you realize what you’re doing.”

you hum, dragging the sound in faux innocence, lashes batting up at him, almost making him release a pathetic noise. “what am doing? I thought I was creating a safe space for you,” you coo.

“don’t play dumb.”

you shrug, face still close, and fingers still playing with the ends of his hair, the other squeezing his bicep. “I’m not.“

and once your eyes glance over the scowl that flickers across his face, your unable to control your reaction. you laugh softly against the small space separating you, and the sound seems to snap whatever fragile thread of restraint he’d been clinging to.

you make a startled sound against him, one that quickly melts into something softer when he kisses you harder than before. his brows knit together, expression caught between irritation and want.

he completely steals the breath from your lungs. all the teasing from the last several minutes dissolves into something far less careful. the laughter lingering on your lips disappears beneath the press of his mouth, your fingers tangling tighter in the ends of his hair as he forces his tongue to meet yours. and the moment your tongues make contact, a guttural groan comes from the back of his throat. the sound is muffled against your lips, but the way you feel the warmth pool between your legs is immediate.

he doesn’t care anymore. his mind has wrapped itself around you, the familiarity of your lips, the warmth of your body, and the soft edges of your aura, it all has him melting. and it doesn’t take long for him to press his fully erect cock right against your shorts. rutting.

a squeak escapes your pretty lips at the first roll of his hips. jaw falling agape at the stimulation. the sunrise paints everything gold around you, warm light spilling across the pool deck while the rest of the villa remains asleep. and as exhausted as sukuna is from his flight, he physically can’t stop his body from rutting into you like a dog in heat.

his tongue is thick and hot, slowly stroking your lips passionately until you’re meeting the wet muscle with your own. your whine is muffled, arms latched around his shoulders, as he hooks your leg over his arm, humping your clothed pussy.

“we should fuck,” he mutters between kisses, grinding even harder, stimulating his cock. “yeah?” his hand squeezes the flesh of your thigh, kissing your bottom lip with haste. “everyone’s sleeping, I got a condom in my bag—“

a choked groan slips out of his throat when you tug his hair, his pupils twice their normal size. cheeks flushed a dark red, and his body unable to pull away from you. he doesn’t want to address how quickly you turn him on, or how much he craved your touch after being away from you for so long—no, none of it crosses the front of his mind when you’re under him, hands caressing his nape, lips glossy and swollen from kissing, and dark lashes batting up at him like you know everything. “you haven’t showered.”

he kisses down your neck, grinding slower, reminding you what he’s asking for. “I don’t smell that bad.” he unintentionally presses his face against your nape, inhaling. “fuck, but you smell so fucking good.”

your lips part momentarily, cheeks flushed. you feel him kiss the warm skin of your neck. he trails back to your lips, hand wrapping gently around your neck, tilting your chin up with a thumb, kissing you deeper, if possible.

it was a scene. and it was one that gojo was waking up to. his blue eyes are still heavy with sleep, white hair sticking in every direction, as he wanders down the staircase in nothing but a pair of shorts hanging dangerously low on his hips. one hand disappears beneath the hem of his shirt as he scratches absentmindedly at his chest, the other reaching automatically for the carton of orange juice waiting in the fridge.

the villa is quiet. the open screens let the morning breeze drift through the house, sunlight spilling across the floors and stretched toward the living room, where a duffle bag and suitcase had been abandoned carelessly near the entrance. gojo blinks, his gaze moves from the luggage to the open patio doors, then stops. “…oh.”

outside, beneath the morning blue sky, was a certain someone hidden behind one of the lounge chairs overlooking the pool, and sukuna was right on top of her. the two of you were obviously making out, his head bent toward yours, your hand buried somewhere near the ends of his pink hair, his broad shoulders blocking part of your frame from view, and his lower body was rocking against yours.

gojo stared, lifting the orange juice to his mouth, then lowering it. “…they’re still not dating,” he murmured to absolutely no one.

“what are you doing?” nanami’s voice breaks through the silence making gojo glance over briefly. fresh out of bed himself, nanami is halfway through pulling a shirt over his head, pajama pants slung low against his waist, catching a brief sight of his dark blonde happy trail, as he walks into the kitchen, following gojo’s line of sight. his steps slowed. “oh.”

gojo points toward the patio, “they’re not dating.”

nanami yawns, moving toward the fridge anyway.“i went to bed early,” he said. “did he get here last night?”

gojo shakes his head immediately, finally twisting the cap off the orange juice. “nope. he literally just got here. i got the notification from the security.” nanami pauses, glancing over his shoulder again, then toward the abandoned bags in the living room, then back outside.

“…they’re that comfortable with each other?” the question slips out before he can stop it.

gojo snorts, “or they’re just ridiculously attracted to each other,” he shrugs. “but they’re definitely not dating.”

nanami raises a brow thoughtfully. “did they not have sex with anyone else if they’re jumping each other like that now?” gojo tilts his head in genuine surprise. nanami’s eyes linger on the scene outside.

maybe it’s instinct or it the unmistakable feeling of being watched, because outside, sukuna’s gaze lifts. his sharp crimson eyes slide toward the villa without warning and land directly on the blue and honey-colored pair staring back at him from the kitchen. the silence stretches, until gojo slowly raises his carton of orange juice in greeting.

your brows quirk seeing sukuna’s suddenly pulling away and scowling over your shoulder. that’s when you decide to stick your head out, brows quirking at gojo and nanami both standing in the kitchen.

“didn’t mean to interrupt the streamy sesh,” gojo calls out casually, nanami glancing at him in annoyance. “you guys can continue.”

you snort, pressing a hand to sukuna’s chest, just for the hot head to sit back on his knees, glaring at his friends. “damn, but you kinda made me loose my appetite though,” you say stepping away from sukuna to stand up. his eyes follow you, jaw tightening as gojo cackles loudly from the house.

“whaaaat—but don’t you guys miss each other? I didn’t wanna ruin the reunion,” gojo lightly teases, unknowingly hitting a nerve as sukuna tsks, and you surprisingly raise a brow.

“you’re not ruining anything,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at sukuna who’s still sat on the lounge chair, hand over his bulge. “we were jus’ talking.”

gojo smirks, nodding sarcastically, “yeah, for sure. must’ve been the wind then.”

you sarcastically cringe, shrugging. “ah, must’ve been.” you don’t break a sweat as you walk further into the house passing by the boys as you make your way up the stairs, leaving them behind. and even with your heart beating erratically, and your face sweltering. you keep your composure until you’re out of sight.

as for sukuna…he remains seated, quiet, and unbelievably pissed off. nanami finds it slightly amusing, while gojo is snorting loudly. “that’s how much you wanna get in her pants—I just got the notification that you walked in and you’re already tryna fuck her—jeez.”

sukuna scowls, standing up. the irritation dripping from his being as he slips a hand into his shorts, tucking his erection up. “since when do you fucking cockblock me?” he snaps, walking into the house.

gojo’s hands fly up in defense, “you’re the ones that stopped. I was just drinkin’ my juice here.”

“he was watching,” nanami casually corrects, earning another shrug from gojo. sukuna clicks his tongue, and it prompts nanami to follow up with the only question swimming in his head. “are you guys dat—“

“no.”

the room falls silent.

sukuna picks up his duffle bag. his sharp eyes find the two men, and he utters his next words, with little thought, only wanting to end any further discussion on a subject he has little care to address with outsiders.

“we fuck. and I’m gonna fuck her again. and that’s my deal with her.”

his harsh tone is followed by a low whistle from the white haired man. and though sukuna walks away from them fully believing he put an end to whatever assumptions they insisted on making. because whatever existed between you and him has always been simple, physical, and convenient. except…

later that week, the simplicity shakes just a bit. when your arms lock around his torso, fingers twisting desperately into the back of his soaked shirt, refusing to let go. face pressed against his chest, eyes rimmed raw, breaths breaking apart into uneven pieces as your entire body trembles against him. the rain coming down harshly, drenching the quiet street and soaking through your skin and fabric.

and sukuna can only stare over your head into the empty street. his arms tighten around you without fully realizing what he’s doing it. his veins straining beneath his skin because you won’t stop shaking. your nails digging into him.

“don’t…” your voice is strained, the softness still shining through even in the state you’re in. “don’t push me away yet.”

his jaw clenches.

“please.”

a/n: watch you guys burn me alive after this. no joke, this shit was gonna be longer but I reached the line count limit on tumblr so I had to cut the scene short and add a sneak peak into next chapter.

Shoko was the biggest mess of the three of you, sobbing unwaveringly while her whole body trembled. You couldn't blame her - for some reason she’d become the sadistic focus of the other man, known as Jogo. If he wanted to inflict terror upon the three of you, it was always Shoko who found herself at the receiving end of his wrath, and as such her throat was terribly bruised along with her right eye, where he’d struck her hard across the face. 

You were the only one who hadn’t been hit, at least not yet, but you weren’t sure it could be counted as a blessing. Mahito seemed to have taken a liking to you in a way that he didn’t extend to the other two, always reaching out for you and playing with your hair, stroking your face, running his fingers along the bare skin of your thigh. It made you sick, and each time you tried to draw away he would pull you back firmly with a wide smile, like it was all part of some game. 

At first, you weren’t sure what their actual plan was, for the two intruders had broken in and tied you up, only to sit back and smoke weed for a while, leaving the three of you shivering and incapacitated, waiting for whatever was coming next. You supposed that was probably all part of the game - a ploy to send your imagination running wild with thoughts of what they might do to you. 

But once they were done smoking their joints, their game had really started. 

“Okay, you.” Mahito was pointing his gun at Yuki, staring down at her easily. “What’s a secret that you’ve been keeping from these two?” This was the third or fourth question of that manner that the men had levied that evening, seemingly finding joy in causing strife between you all and lashing out with violence when you tried to lie or refused to answer. 

It was a little sickening to think that you’d been playing truth or dare earlier that afternoon, and now you were being forced to play it at gunpoint. It wouldn’t have surprised you to find out that Mahito had been skulking around the whole time, listening in on your interactions with your friends and building this encounter based on it. 

“I don’t have any,” she said firmly, grunting as Mahito slapped her once more.

“Wrong answer.” He clicked the safety off the gun. “Come on, lie again or try to back out and I’ll pull the trigger. It’s only her that I need in working condition.” He jerked his head in your direction. “There must be something, maybe you fucked her boyfriend or something?” 

Yuki sneered at the implication, but the hatred dissipated the moment she remembered her situation. Her dislike for Sukuna seemed rather petty and insignificant in the face of this new violence. 

“Fine.” Yuki turned to you with an earnest stare. “I tried to get Sukuna to break up with you when I first found out you were dating. Sorry, I know you want us to get along, but I hate the guy. I can’t pinpoint exactly what it is about him, but he’s bad news and I don’t want to watch him ruin your life with his bullshit. Sue me.” 

Mahito watched the exchange carefully, eyes lightening up with a cruel glee, only to pout when you offered no dramatic reaction. Even if you hadn’t known the details, it didn’t surprise you that Yuki had tried to intervene - you’d been sure they’d shared some terse words that morning you’d all gone out for brunch, the tension at the table upon your return from the bathroom had been palpable. 

“It's okay, I get it,” you said evenly, more than willing to let it go. Yuki had your best interests at heart, and she wasn’t wrong to be skeptical over some of Sukuna’s more possessive qualities considering the break-in stunt - even if you generally found his nature more charming than concerning. 

“How boring. That’s all?” Mahito asked, switching his focus to you. “She tried to break up your relationship and it's just okay? Get mad about it!” You glared up at him, unsure how he could be so dense as to believe that you’d turn on your friends in this situation. It was pointless to get mad at Yuki right now, all that mattered was living through the evening unharmed. 

“That’s all,” you mumbled, drawing a sigh from the blue haired man. 

“Okay, then how about you, sweetheart?” He asked, edging closer and caressing your face with the barrel of the gun. You flinched at the cold touch of the metal, trying to stay calm in the face of it. You were worried that panicking would just annoy the intruders and cause them to put an end to you early. 

Or perhaps they’d cause harm to one of your friends in a bid as punishment for freaking out. You didn’t want to be the cause of anyone’s suffering. 

“What’s a secret you’ve been hiding? Share it with the class.” 

Just like Yuki, you found yourself unsure as to what you might say, for there weren’t really any secrets you’d been keeping from the both of them. But in a bid to get things over with sooner, you turned to Yuki with a heavy sigh. “Sukuna broke into my house a few weeks ago to have sex with me in the middle of the night to fulfill some kink of his. I didn’t tell you because I thought you’d go crazy about it.” 

“What the fuck?” She asked, suddenly enraged as if forgetting the situation for just a moment. “He broke into your house? That’s so fucked up, why would you keep dating him after that?.” 

“We talked it out,” you responded quickly. “He just got carried away and he thought I’d be into it too. He said it won’t happen again.” 

“Right, because he’s so fucking honest all the time.” 

“He’s good to me,” you argued. 

“Really? Because what you just described makes it sound like he raped you.” 

Immediately you were rearing back, your eyes wide in disgust, like Yuki had poured cold water over you. The words were unpleasant, a sickening feeling twisting within you to hear her describe it in such a manner. You’d never viewed Sukuna’s actions in such a way. Sure, he’d crossed a line in that instance, but sex with him had never been anything other than a pleasure. It was always something that you wanted, and if you ever told him to stop you had the utmost confidence that he would stop. 

Yuki disliking him was one thing, but to cast such incorrect judgement over your dynamic had a spark of hatred igniting itself in your chest. 

“That’s not what I’m saying, at all. God, not everything is black and white, Sukuna isn’t the root of all evil, and I’m so sick of you treating me like a baby all the time. Let me make my own decisions and you can bitch about me to Shoko in private when you don’t agree with them,” you spat. 

“Oh, is that what you do about me?” She asked. “Talk about me behind my back rather than to my face?” 

“Sometimes, yeah. When you're being like this.” Your words hung heavy in the room, and Yuki fell silent, shaking her head and diverting her brown eyes to the ground.

Mahito burst out laughing. 

“Yes! That’s the kind of thing I was talking about!” He waved the gun at Shoko. “Now you!”

Shoko seemed a little bewildered. Of the three of you she was flagging the most, struggling to keep her eyes open. It was clear that there was significant damage to her neck, and even as she hesitated to find an answer, Jogo was striding over and putting his cigarette out on her shoulder, pulling a fearful yelp from her lips. 

“Stop it.” Yuki hissed, only to be ignored by both men, who continued to urge Shoko on for an answer, rubbing the gun up against her temple. 

“Come on, quickly now. Don’t want us to put a bullet in your skull, do you?” Jogo asked. 

Shoko shook her head fearfully, biting down on her lip for a moment before taking a shuddering breath. “I slept with Choso a few months before you guys got together.” She confessed, keeping her gaze forward, seemingly terrified of casting a glance at Yuki.

You couldn’t keep the shock from your face, because you hadn’t known that. And based on the sheer guilt in Shoko’s eyes, you were certain this was the first time she’d told anybody.

“It- it was back when I didn’t know what I wanted and I was still exploring things. Me and him hooked up at a party. I knew that you liked him but I was drunk and things just kind of happened. Sorry Yuki. I should’ve told you.” 

“Oooh, now that’s spicy!” Mahito exclaimed, glancing over at your blonde friend. You weren’t sure at first that she’d even registered it, seemingly processing too many things at once, as if she’d reached some sort of saturation point. But after a few seconds she breathed out a deep sigh and looked at Shoko. 

“It was before we were dating?” 

Shoko nodded earnestly, eyes still fixed in front of her. 

“That’s fine. It’s just- why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t Cho tell me?” 

Shrugging, Shoko stumbled over her words, clearly struggling to formulate a coherent answer. “I don’t know. I guess I just felt like you’d be mad at me? You’d told me you were crushing on him and I still- fuck- sorry.” She trailed off. 

There was more silence, before Yuki shrugged, turning her head away from the both of you. “Sure, whatever.” 

“Girls and their drama huh?” Mahito cut through the silence. “Why can’t you all just get along like me and Jogo here? Always bitching about each other’s boyfriends, it's sad.” You stared at him blankly, eager to point out how sexist such a statement was, but unwilling to risk your life for such a correction. 

Right now, all three of you needed to get it together. Sure, the evening’s revelations had been far from ideal, but it didn’t matter. You could squabble about that stuff once you were safe - none of it mattered if you were going to die tonight either way. 

Twisting your hands in your bindings, you observed the area. You were still in the living room, where the two of them had come barrelling in through the window. If you were able to free yourself you could leap out the way they’d come in, or alternately make a run for the internal door and hope you could lose them in the maze of corridors that made up Satoru’s house. 

Unfortunately, you weren’t convinced that all three of you would be able to break free at the same time, and you weren’t about to sacrifice the others for the sake of your own freedom. It wasn’t fair. 

But still, there had to be some way out. 

“Come on, Yuki, is it?” Mahito asked, crouching before her. “Don’t you wanna hurt these girls for what they’ve done? Tell me which one you’re angrier at, and I’ll inflict a wound on them to make sure they don’t forget it.” 

Shoko whimpered, and immediately you were sitting bolt upright, breathing quickly as Yuki said nothing, her eyes still trained on the floor. 

“Pick one, or I’ll shoot them both in the head.” 

Panic flickered in Yuki’s brown eyes, the threat leading to her swiftly raising her head, glancing between the two of you. Shoko had started sobbing, Jogo’s arm wrapped threateningly around her shoulders, his hand stroking the side of her face with a cruel affection. You were calmer on the surface, eyes staring at her pleadingly, hands trembling a little behind your back. 

Yuki spoke your name softly, guilt and hurt present in her expression before she dropped her head again, hiding beneath a mane of blonde hair. 

You couldn’t say that you really blamed her. With the state that Shoko was in, and the pain that had already been inflicted upon her, Yuki would be wrong to suggest that she should be on the receiving end of any more suffering. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t terrified for yourself, quivering as Mahito approached you, drawing a blade from his pocket. 

As he drew closer, you flinched back, trying to escape from his grasp. You were no match for his speed or strength, letting out a cry of fear as he took a seat on the floor, pulling you forcefully into his lap. “Shhhh. Calm down,” he hummed, his lips pressing against your hair in an action meant to comfort you. It filled you with nothing but revulsion, tears bubbling up in your eyes as he pressed the knife up against your arm. 

“What should I cut into her, Yuki?” He asked. “I’m quite the artist, you know?” 

Yuki said nothing, refusing to look at you. Tears were dripping down onto the floor beneath her, tremors wracking her body. For all of Yuki’s strength and confidence, it had amounted to nothing. She was just as scared as the rest of you, held at bay by a singular gun, unwilling to act like a hero and have her life stolen from her. 

“No ideas?” Mahito asked with a pout. “I suppose I could write whore since you clearly are one. Enjoying your boyfriend breaking in to fuck you? That’s depraved. Bet you’ll like what I’m going to do to you later.” A sob escaped you, fresh horror making itself known in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to vomit. 

“Please, don’t.” You rasped. 

“No? Too bad you don’t get a say in the matter, sweetheart. We came here for some fun, you’re not depriving us of it just because you’re a stick in the mud.” He paused, giving you a look over. “Now, where should I cut you - any preferences on this matter, Yuki? You’re the one doing this to her.” 

“Stop it.” She mumbled weakly, her face still averted to what was happening before her eyes. “Just leave them both alone.” 

“No, no, no.” Mahito waved his blade haphazardly, before showing her the gun holstered in the top of his jeans, momentarily stowed away to allow him more control with his knife. “I told you already, it's the knife, or I shoot them both in the head. There’s no other option. So understand that you are doing this to her, and watch it happen like an adult.”

Mahito snapped his fingers at Jogo, who seemed reluctant to release Shoko from his hold. Clearly he was subservient in this little dynamic that they had going though, because he moved over to Yuki and wrenched her head back with a fistful of hair, forcing her eyes to meet your wide, frightened ones. 

“Mmm, where to put it…” Mahito mused, your body jolting as his fingers found the hem of your shirt, pushing it upwards and trailing the knife up your stomach until it reached the bottom of your bra. “How about here?” He asked, tapping the space between your two breasts. “Then, anyone who fucks you will be able to see what you are plain and simple. You like that idea, Yuki?” 

She shook her head vigorously, more tears streaming down her cheeks. The apology in her eyes was clear, and you found yourself sobbing too. You wanted to be in Sukuna’s arms, wanted to cling to him for all eternity, safely cocooned within his grip where nothing bad could ever happen to you. 

But Sukuna wasn’t there, and there was no one else who would come to your rescue. 

“Stay still.” Mahito cooed, “if you move about I’ll make a mess and then you might really be in trouble. You don’t want me cutting too deep by mistake.” 

A pained cry ripped from your lips as Mahito made his first incision in the valley between your breasts, a long line of a ‘W’ cut into your sensitive skin, blood beading and dripping down onto the band of your bra. You and Sukuna had done knife play before, and it was nothing like this. With Sukuna, you felt safe, certain that he knew your limits - the knife would prick but never truly cut. 

This was something different, something revolting. 

You retreated within yourself, and somewhere in the distance you could hear your own voice begging him to stop. Perhaps you could hear Shoko and Yuki’s too, all pleading tearfully while Mahito added another line to his creation, your body jolting painfully with the careful movements of the knife. 

Whether or not you were thankful that he only made it through two lines of the first letter before something happened, you weren’t quite sure. Because a big part of you would’ve chosen to have the word whore branded permanently on your chest over what transpired in those next few seconds. 

Somehow, in the short time that Jogo had been preoccupied with Yuki, Shoko had wrenched her hands free of her bindings. And while the two men were distracted with you, she took her chance and made a bolt for the door leading further into the house. 

She’d stumbled when leaping to her feet, and the moment she’d set off at a run, her feet had caught on the rug below, sending her careening onto her hands and knees for a second before recovering. 

It was too many mistakes to make. 

Mahito’s knife clattered to the floor, grazing your thigh with a cut as it fell past you. His pistol was in his hand in an instant, a shot firing before you had time to prepare for it, leaving a disgustingly loud ringing sound in your ears, muffling much of what followed. Mahito still held you, and the two men were arguing about something incomprehensible, but all you could do was stare at the blood stain on the white door, eyes wide in horror. 

There was a body laying beneath it, one that had finally stopped quivering. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen a body, not even the first time you’d seen one covered in blood at the sign of a violent death, but that didn’t leave you any better equipped to cope. You emptied your stomach on the floor beside you, barely hearing Mahito’s complaints about how disgusting that was. 

It wasn’t something you could help. 

Desperate panic built within you, and you found yourself looking to Yuki, who seemed to be in the midst of a panic attack. Her breaths were coming out ragged, sobbing aloud in a way you’d never heard from her before, a look of pitiful defeat present in her usually lovely chestnut eyes. 

“Why- why are you doing this?” You sobbed, surprised at the sound of your own voice. “She didn’t deserve that, y-you were cutting into my skin like you wanted, you didn’t need to-” you cut yourself off, not knowing what more to say. 

You thought you might throw up again. 

Mahito grinned, wiping a tear from your cheek. “It gets real boring out here, sweetheart. What better entertainment is there than playing with a bunch of pretty girls until they break? Killing is entertainment, and she was too panicky to be useful for much else.” 

Noticing the horror in your expression, his grin only spread further. 

“Not all things need any deep profound meaning, you know. I love the blood and the suffering! There’s little more to it.” 

There was nothing for you to say, tears rolling down your cheeks as you stared at Shoko’s lifeless body spread across the floor. Her blood was seeping out and staining the wood beneath her, her life gone in a single instant, one which you and Yuki had been powerless to prevent. You felt pathetic, your hands flexing in their bindings, regretting agreeing to go along to Satoru’s holiday home, wishing you’d had a nice quiet weekend in Sukuna’s apartment like your boyfriend had wanted. 

“You good to keep an eye on that one, Jogo? I don’t wanna wait much longer. The punishment games aren’t as fun when there’s only two.” Mahito’s gaze was fixed on you with deep lust, his fingers crawling up the length of your arm. 

“Sure, whatever. I’ll watch her while you have your fun, then we’ll do the usual.” 

“Great!” Mahito stood up, throwing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. 

You couldn’t find it in you to struggle, your mind practically shutting down as Mahito stepped over Shoko’s body to head out into the corridor, like she was nothing more than an obstacle in his path. 

Like she hadn’t been someone you loved.

—

Sukuna had been beset with the chilling feeling that something was wrong. 

It had started just after they’d left the butchers, when he’d shot you a quick text to ask if you wanted anything from the liquor store. Usually, you were quick to reply to him, very rarely leaving your phone on silent, so when a few minutes passed by without you even reading his message, a hint of concern ignited within him. 

He’d tried calling you then, since the rest of the boys had already bought what they wanted, and Sukuna didn’t want to leave without knowing if he should pick you something up, but the phone rang out, going straight to voicemail, and that really worried him. 

Now, to his credit, he did try his best to reason with himself that everything was probably fine. You were likely just caught up chatting with the girls about one thing or another, perhaps you’d left your phone upstairs, or maybe you were watching some movie with the volume turned up so high that you didn’t hear the ringing of your cutesy mobile. 

But he couldn’t quite shake the anxiety from his chest. 

He cursed himself for even attempting to cast his worries aside once the boys made it back from their walk to find the house eerily silent. The window of the living room was smashed inwards, leaving shards of glass all over the wooden floor, and the menu screen for the Ferris Bueller DVD was drenching the whole room in bright white. 

“What- what the fuck?” Satoru hissed. 

The four of them were frozen outside, staring in through the window at the empty room. In the artificial light, Sukuna could just about make out blood staining the sofa, and more flooding the floor behind it. Amongst that partially obscured pool, he could make out what looked like a hand peeking out from behind the couch, and his heart dropped. 

He didn’t wait to consult with the others in their state of shock, and gave little thought to the fact that whoever had done this might still be in the house. Instead he made straight for the window, heart pounding in his chest as he leapt gracefully through the gap, vision shaky but still fixed on that small hand partially shrouded in darkness. 

It couldn’t be you. It couldn’t be. 

It wasn’t. 

Rounding the side of the couch, he stopped in his tracks at the site of Shoko. She was cold, motionless, her brown eyes still open. Blood was dripping from a gunshot wound straight through her skull, leaving her brown hair sticky and matted. There was still a flush to her cheeks, suggesting that whatever had transpired hadn’t taken place all that long ago. 

This wasn’t the first dead body Sukuna had seen - in that area he would consider himself more than experienced. He’d disemboweled Ryu, had smashed Yorozu’s head in with a hammer, had gone so far as to actively torture Kashimo before finally disposing of him - and yet, none of that had made him feel sick like the sight before him.

Shoko had been a good friend of yours. She was a person who Sukuna liked - a good influence on you, someone that would always leave you happy after you’d gone to hang out with her. 

She didn’t deserve what had happened to her. 

But more to the point, whoever had done this to Shoko currently had you, and that thought made him want to vomit. 

He had to find you. 

There was the sound of glass crunching, and Sukuna glanced over at the boys making their way in behind him. They all looked freaked out, and Satoru’s eyes widened in horror as he finally reached Sukuna’s side, letting out a strangled yelp of horror. “Shoko! Oh fuck.” He was down on his knees in an instant, pouring over her as if he might find a pulse if he tried hard enough. “Quick, someone call an ambulance! Suguru - take my phone, oh shit.” 

Suguru was already dialing 911, whilst Choso was standing with hunched shoulders, his expression riddled with terror. It was clear he was going through the same spectrum of emotions that Sukuna was, full of pity for Shoko but focussed on the fate of his own girlfriend who was absent from the room. 

“Yuki-” he mumbled. “I’ve gotta find Yuki.” 

“Do you have a gun?” Sukuna asked Satoru, his voice eerily calm. Internally he was panicking, seething at the idea of someone hurting you, but he wasn’t the type to get frazzled, especially not when he had so many executions on his hands already. 

“What-” 

“These fuckers are probably still here. Do you have a gun here?” 

Satoru nodded. “There’s a cabinet in the kitchen. I’ll show you.” He slowly rose from his position beside Shoko, letting Suguru watch over her while he spoke with the police, asking for immediate support along with an ambulance - not that medical help would do much for Shoko at that point. 

Hurrying into the kitchen, they avoided making too much noise, eager to have the advantage of surprise over any perpetrators. Internally, Sukuna was screaming. He wanted to go on a rampage around the house - tear doors off their hinges and scream at the top of his lungs. But he wasn’t stupid, any warning given to the person or people who had done this could lead to your death. 

He would be nothing but calm and careful. 

It wasn’t clear if the same could be said for Choso, who was visibly shaking while Satoru unlocked the gun rack. Sukuna wasn’t sure the boy had any capability of keeping it together, and he’d be damned if his friend’s weak heart led to your demise somehow. Fortunately, Satoru seemed to be more locked in to the task at hand, breathing easily as he handed Sukuna a pistol, keeping the hunting rifle to himself. 

Satoru, despite his kind and friendly demeanor, had always been the type of man who could do whatever was needed when the time came. He’d been there for Sukuna in plenty of fights throughout high school and had lied their way out of being arrested when they’d been caught with drugs on more than one occasion. 

He was the best person to have on hand in a situation like this, outside of Sukuna himself. 

Later, he was sure the boy would be a total mess, but that was fine. All Sukuna needed was for him to be strong in the moment. 

“I’ll cover the top two floors, you two deal with the bottom two.” Sukuna whispered after a quick check that the pistol was loaded. “If you find them, don’t hesitate to shoot. They deserve the same respect they gave Shoko.” 

Depending on the condition he found you in, he’d probably give the cause a fate even worse than death, but there was no need to recommend that outcome to his friends. They could decide how they wanted to deal with the situation on their own.