you could hear sukuna stumbling through your apartment, bumping into your coffee table before dramatically collapsing onto your couch, letting the cushions envelop him while he nuzzled into the pillows.
“sukuna…? it’s 1am what the fuck are you doing out here?”
“i missed you, sweetheart.” he slurred out, reaching out to your form and missing by a mile before falling face first into your couch again.
“good god you’re wasted.”
“m nottt—.”
“let’s get you to bed, yeah?”
“nooo.” he was whining with his face in the cushions now, slowly lifting himself up, his eyes glossed over and his lips jutted in a pout while he stared at you.
“come on, big guy.” you said, walking towards him while he swayed a little trying to get himself up.
“that’s not my name.”
you moved close to him, slowly running your fingers though his hair—right before he dragged you onto the couch, crushing your head in his chest while he pressed wet kisses against your cheek.
“kuna ew you reek of alcohol!”
“gods, why do you put up with me?” he hushed out, nuzzling his face into your chest, mumbling against your shirt.
“w—what?” you sputtered out, slowly patting his back while he sniffled against you—because sukuna ryomen was always tougher than this.
rough around the edges, always stoic, it was strange to see him all teary eyed and needy in your grasp, planting sloppy kisses against your neck while he slurred about how perfect you were.
“t’ good for me y’know..”
“oh? what’s this about, kuna?”
“you’re soo pretty and perfect and fuck i really don’t deserve you.”
drunk minds speak sober thoughts, right? you were giggling to yourself, because it was ridiculous—ryomen sukuna was everything you wanted in a person, serious, smart and with wits that knew no end, what was there not to love?
“oh ryo…”
“don’t say—anything.”
“i won’t, ryo.” you cooed, the nickname practically melting him into a puddle while he settled his cheek on your chest sniffling away while you ran your fingers through his blush coloured hair.
“i love you, kuna:
“i—love you too.” he slurred, tripping over his own words before collapsing on you like a dead fish, holding you down underneath his warmth with his nose buried in the crook of your neck.
that was the first time sukuna had it in him to ever say he loved a person—it wouldn’t be the last, but if a couple of shots are what had him stumbling straight to your arms, you would’ve gotten him drunk ages ago.
you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, still toying with his hair while he snored softly atop you, mumbling something about how he had to thank whatever force was up there that got him to you. and it was clear as day, frat president sukuna ryomen was just a sappy, pathetic loser.
i lowk forgot how to write bro. but we’re so close to another milestone i’m so freaking hyped ily guys and trust me i’m cookin
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୧ synopsis it's not easy, falling in love with someone who is still getting over someone else. sukuna learned to be patient for you, but as his affection for you grows, so does his hatred for the man who made you so scared of love in the first place.
୧ wc 3.9k
୧ content mdni, angst, smut, some fluff too, hurt/comfort, sukuna pov, falling in love, very anxious reader, jealousy, post reader and gojo breakup, sex on the first night, protected piv sex, overstimulation, making out, biting, a little bit of a breeding kink, crying after sex, and a lot of crying in general, aftercare, moving on, posesssive sukuna
୧ a/n this is sukuna's pov of the story, you can find the other parts in this collection! this can be read as part 3 or as a oneshot too. art by @/riyalise & divider by @/diviniyae
"Who is that?"
Sukuna himself was surprised to hear the words leave his lips, but he couldn't help the curiosity.
He found himself sitting on an uncomfortable stool in someone's house party he somehow got convinced to attend, surrounded by the same boring faces as always – until he noticed a new one.
A new girl, sitting on a sofa far ahead, involved in the party but… not really. You had a tight hold on your phone, and you glanced at the screen every few seconds like you were waiting for a message that never came.
It made Sukuna anxious just watching it.
And right now watching was exactly what he was doing.
It wasn't just the fact your face had made his heart skip an awkward beat inside his chest when you walked past, not even noticing him. Nor was it the fact you seemed to prefer sitting alone rather than engaging with the rest of the party, something he could relate to well enough.
No, there was something else about you too. You just seemed so… sad.
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.
cw: not rlly anything to be honest, intimidation!??!?!?
bully!gojo and bully!sukuna just can't WAIT to have a threesome with you.
the two walk around school together, often looking for you, just so they can have a look at what's in store for them.
sukuna rarely sees you without your uniform, so even an instagram story with a cute little outfit is enough to get him hard. he just knows that underneath everything you're hiding behind, there's a perfect little girl for him to enjoy.
it doesn't help that gojo just can't stop talking about all the times he's been with you. he practically gushes to sukuna about how you're getting better at taking him in your mouth, or how he's teaching you to ride him. of course, this leads sukuna's imagination to go crazy, as well as his hand on his cock.
when you catch the pair watching you, an uneasy feeling washes over you. you can deal with them separately, but together? with gojo's filthy personality and sukuna's grossly intimidating nature, you wonder about their intentions. you decide to steer clear of sukuna even if gojo is around, just to make sure. he's just too bad of an influence!
too bad you'll never find out just how generous sukuna can be, especially in bed, as well as how easily he whips gojo in to shape.
frat!sukuna x reader. sukuna’s worst mistake was agreeing to a bet with satoru gojo. the bet? that he could get you, his sweet, organic chemistry tutor, to sleep with him.
warnings! none really, except angst. brief implication of sex.
note : man, who the hell was i feeling like? not sure if i’ll write a part 2 :)
wc : 2.5k
“what did i ever do to you? why, why me?” your voice cracked, eyes welling up with fresh tears. your bottom lip wobbled, swollen and bloodshot eyes locking with sukuna’s, the raw hurt evident in your gaze.
sukuna felt as though someone were jabbing the sharpest shard of glass into his heart, repeatedly withdrawing and selfishly going back in for more. his body felt frozen, cold blood running through his veins. he felt a sense of urgency, panicked as he thought of ways to rectify what you both had.
the one good thing that happened to him.
“please, sweetheart. can’t you see that i regret ever agreeing to the bet? im begging you, you have to believe me,” sukuna pleaded, trying his hardest to convey his honesty. he stepped closer to you, arms outstretched in an attempt to bring you closer to him. his heart broke when you stepped back instantly, trying to create more distance between you two.
“i don’t believe a single thing you say. you’re a fucking liar, ryomen. you’re an asshole, i wish i would’ve never met you,” you cried, “i wish you would've never chosen me as your victim. why, ryomen, why?”
sukuna resembled a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing repeatedly. seeing his blank expression trying to most likely come up with what you’d believe to be a lie, you turned on your heel and attempted to walk away from him, the ache in your chest worse than any other pain you had experienced.
”baby, please don’t—“ sukuna’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. you immediately whipped back around and tugged at your hand, trying to free yourself from his grasp.
”let go of me! don’t fucking touch me!” you screamed at him, raw hurt evident in your wails, “haven’t you done enough? just let me leave, i know you don’t care about me, so why won’t you just let me go?”
“listen to me,” he continued, gripping your wrist, letting your other hand smack and punch his forearm, “please, pretty girl, i can’t lose you. just let me explain—“
”don’t call me that! explain this to me, ryomen. why did you pick me? why?” you ceased your attack on his forearm, exhaustion catching up to you. your dolled up face was now stained with mascara streaks, and you had never felt more uncomfortable in the outfit you put together with sukuna in an attempt to make you feel confident at this party. fresh tears rolled freely down your reddened cheeks as you asked in a wobbly voice, “was it because you could tell nobody had ever chosen me before? did i seem like an easy target to you? a stupidly naive girl, a nerd, a girl that guys don’t bother looking twice at?”
“stop, stop saying those things—“
”why me?!” you wailed, scrunching your eyes shut, unable to continue looking at his guilty expression.
sukuna didn’t know how to answer you. he didn’t know how to tell you that yes, he had agreed to gojo’s bet because they knew that getting a sweet, nerdy tutor like you to sleep with him would be child’s play. he never thought he would find himself in this predicament; falling in love with you, the only person who held him as if he were something gentle. the person who never made him feel aggressive as he usually tended to be. you made him feel as if he could be softer, more gentle. you had been the single person who had seen that side of him. and only he knew that underneath that sweet exterior, you had a feisty personality that you internalized. you captivated him so greatly that he memorized small details about you; your matcha order from your favorite cafe, the non-smudge brand of pens you used, the birthmarks that littered your body. he knew how you constantly felt out of place, never quite fitting in with any crowd. you had cried to him about your family, the pressure you felt to become something successful, you had been completely vulnerable with him.
he knew he was breaking you, and that this moment would be pivotal in your life. this would change your heart forever, and your trust in people, especially men, would never be the same.
and it was all thanks to him.
not knowing what else to do, he used the hold on your wrist to tug you into his chest, your weakened body allowing itself to be tugged. you hated yourself for how you craved his comfort, his scent, his soft voice that reassured you various times before you knew it was all a facade. your legs felt like jell-o, knees wobbling as you collapsed in his arms and sobbed hard into his chest. his eyes welled up with tears knowing he was about to lose you indefinitely.
”i’m so sorry, baby. i’m so fucking sorry,” he whispered, voice cracking. he held you tight to his chest, praying to the universe that he could somehow go back in time and never agree to anything. he had never felt such an intense pain like he was experiencing now. his sweet, kind girl, crying in his arms because of him.
he had truly been falling in love with you, hard.
you continued lamenting, hiccuping as you attempted to catch your breath. you gathered enough strength to pull your head back and look up at him, not caring a single ounce about your appearance. you knew it would be the last time he’d see you in this position. red irises looked down at you, gazing into your pained eyes. his hand came up to cup your cheek, wiping the continuously falling tears with his thumb. you remembered how he had done so before, on nights when your chest felt especially heavy with the load you carried and you felt safe enough to share yourself with him. the memories kept flashing through your mind, one standing out amongst the others.
the night you had fully given yourself up to him. the night that solidified his victory in satoru gojo and his’s bet. you remembered how gentle he was, his constant reassurance and praise as he touched you, how beautiful you felt under his gaze. you felt loved.
and none of it was real.
with the pain heavy in your heart, you allowed rage to overtake you, eyebrows furrowed as you screamed, “i hate you! i hate you, ryomen sukuna! you’re the worst thing that ever happened to me!”
sukuna could see the moment you snapped back into reality. the reality that yes, his actions were the worst thing he could’ve done to a beautiful soul like yours. yes, he was the worst thing that could’ve happened to you. he let you pound your smaller fists into his chest, thrashing in his hold as you wailed, “let go of me! i hate you! i hate you!”
suddenly, sukuna felt somebody forcefully tug him backwards, the shock was enough for him to loosen his hold and let you slip out of his arms. his head turned in surprise to see suguru, his only sensible frat brother, holding him by the back of his shirt with toji standing behind him.
“let her go, man. don’t make this worse for her than it already is,” the long haired man spoke, shaking his head at sukuna.
when he turned his head to look back at you, all he could see were your trembling shoulders turned away from him, your arms wrapped around yourself as you cried, walking away from him.
he attempted to escape suguru’s grip on him, but was pushed back with a firm hand to his chest. toji had stepped forward and gave him a look that said ‘stop,’ and walked a distance behind you, planning to follow you and make sure you made it home safely.
he watched you walk away from him, forever.
“alright, class. by the end of this week you should be familiar with carbohydrate reactions, hawthorn projections, and synthesizing amino acids. these will be on our midterm exam next thursday, so don’t wait to ask for help.”
sukuna considered himself to be a relatively busy person. vice president of his fraternity, delta phi, captain of his soccer team, and a full-time college student. it was no wonder that when his organic chemistry II class began to pick up, he started falling behind. not wanting to fail the class and risk his status in his organization and team, he went straight to his professor for help.
the older man had told him what every other professor would’ve.
come to office hours and ask his questions to the head tutor.
that’s where sukuna found himself on a tuesday morning after lecture. he dragged along satoru gojo, president of their frat, simply for moral support. they walked the short distance to the laboratory building where office hours were held. he pushed the door open and realized they were the only people in the room. clearly the tutor had stepped out of the room, seeing as though there was a laptop sitting open on one of the tables that had a plastic standing label that said ‘OCHEM 8B.’ an iced matcha sat near the laptop, condensation forming a wet ring of water on the table.
”well, looks like nobody’s here to help your stupid ass. can we go now? i need to go to costco to buy the liquor for friday but you’re the one with the card,” the white haired man huffed, rocking back on his heels and gripping his backpack’s straps.
”man, just wait a minute. i can’t flunk this class for fuck’s sake,” sukuna rolled his eyes before continuing, “just sit down and go on reels or something. if they don’t show up in the next five minutes, we can go.”
sukuna sighed and placed his backpack on the floor next to the chair facing the TA’s, taking a seat and crossing his tattooed arms. pulling out his own phone and opening instagram, he scrolled through his feed for only a minute or two when the door swung open, his eyes snapping up to meet yours.
he was taken aback by how pretty you were, your oversized hoodie and leggings were casual and comfortable, glasses framing your surprised face. you smiled awkwardly at the two men before speaking, “so sorry! nobody usually shows up to office hours, so…” you trailed off, walking to your seat in front of sukuna. he got a whiff of your vanilla perfume, mentally forcing himself not to lean forward when you finally sat down and logged back into your laptop.
“s’okay. we weren’t waiting for long. here, gojo,” sukuna mumbled at the end, pulling out his wallet to sift through his cards and pull out their shared membership card, holding it out between two fingers at his frat brother. his eyes didn’t leave you, watching how you furrowed them slightly, only looking up at the interaction for a second.
the white haired man snickered softly, walking up and grabbing the card with a smirk. Just as he was walking out the door, he let out a “have fun!” in a tone sukuna recognized as one that the brother typically uses when sukuna is dragging a girl upstairs to his room. sukuna shot his back a glare before quickly looking back at you, slightly embarrassed and hoping you didn’t catch the implication. he was relieved to see you were more focused on wiping the puddle of water from the table with a napkin you were holding.
“so, what can I help you with?” you asked sweetly, giving him a small smile. he felt something twist in the pit of his stomach.
”i’m having a hard time understanding haworth projections,” he responded, a rare feeling of embarrassment hitting him. sukuna couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this. he had made a reputation for himself. he knew the rumors surrounding him and they made him feel confident. he knew he never had a serious relationship, he didn’t do feelings, especially not ones that made his chest feel warm.
what the fuck is happening?
“no problem, they can be super tricky to grasp. here, lets start with a fischer projection and go from there,” you answered non-judgmentally, standing up to wheel over a whiteboard to demonstrate an example. your back was turned to the man, meaning he couldn’t see your reddening face.
you knew exactly who was sitting right in front of you. ryomen sukuna. vice president of some frat you couldn’t remember the name of, you had noticed the attractive, pink-haired man numerous times during lectures, sure that he had never glanced your way. not in a self deprecating way, but you had heard rumors of the parties his frat threw, along with the types girls he’d fuck which seemed to be your polar opposites. you’d seen him carry himself confidently, so it was no surprise to see the mildly embarrassed look on his face as he asked you for help.
you slowly went through each step on how to close the ring, ensuring that he understood. you had been chosen for head tutor due to your ability to aid struggling students in a patient manner, only allowing them to move onto the next step once they demonstrated complete understanding of the previous. while it was tedious, you constantly received praise from students and the professor who both appreciated the grade boost your aid provided.
before either of you could notice, two hours had gone by. sukuna felt as if he could teach the subject himself by that point, but he felt a pull to stay.
“i’m sorry, but i have to head home before work. if you have any other questions or need more help, i’ll be here on thursday, too!” you smiled softly at him.
he found himself reciprocating the smile, the expression feeling foreign on his tattooed face.
that day, he went home feeling lighter, the doubts of failing his upcoming exam long gone thanks to you. walking into his shared home, he saw gojo sitting on the couch leisurely. flopping down next to him, he stared straight at the tv that was playing whatever show satoru was watching.
“so, how’d it go with that cute tutor? did she freak out at being in the presence of a man?” satoru snickered, not looking at sukuna.
“it was fine, asshole,” sukuna rolled his eyes, his stoic expression not giving anything about how he had felt during the session, away.
“hey, i bet you can’t get her to sleep with you,” the blue eyed man wiggled his eyebrows with a crude smirk.
not knowing he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life, he let his ego and pride get the best of him.
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it took you nearly a decade to get used to the rhythm of your menstrual cycle.
hot soups daily, magnesium supplements with every meal. paracetamol when the cramps got too bad. breathable clothes. only getting up to change your pad, or grab snacks from the kitchen.
but most times you’d simply be curled up in bed with a heat pack on your belly, watching 4-hour video essays on soviet architecture or obscure video games. at some point, you started wondering if fertility was worth all this suffering.
until you started dating sukuna.
even now, you weren't sure how you managed to pull him. this gorgeous, 6'2 mountain of a man with calloused hands and a line of women begging for a chance, finally picking you for the princess treatment.
safe to say, he was your everything. so if you were feeling particularly distraught by your hormones that month, you’d call your boyfriend.
“baby,” you mutter into your phone, staring at the ceiling with an empty pack of chips on your belly. “when are you home?”
“hour left.” there’s the sound of metal scraping against asphalt, then a tool falling. his sigh crackles through the speaker. “you okay?”
your eyes tear up.
“no.”
he’s home in twenty-two minutes.
the front door slams. heavy boots drop to the floor in two familiar thuds followed by the rustling of plastic bags (probably the takeout you asked for before he hung up).
he calls your name from the foyer, and you’re already reaching for him when he fills the doorway of your shared bedroom. still in his worn carhartt pants, a smudge of grease coating his forearm.
the moment he spots you, his tired, pale gaze softens.
“i love you,” you whine as he approaches, willing him into bed with a single, pitiful look.
his jaw ticks, and though he doesn’t say it back (he rarely does), he doesn’t have to anymore. not when his hand slides under the blanket and finds your belly, palm warm and calloused, pressing hard where it hurts most.
“want me to help?” he rasps against your neck, already curled into your side like a guard dog.
you know what help meant during these days. towel down, clothes off, and fucking all the cramps out of your body until you fell asleep with his cock still inside you.
“yes.”
he doesn’t wait, mouth crashing to yours in hunger, then softer across your forehead, eyelids, and the hinge of your jaw. he sucks a bruise into your neck until you’re grabbing at his shirt, which is how he knows you’re ready.
“on your back,” he commands.
you obey, letting your legs lie slack on the mattress.
his kisses travel down your belly, shoving your ratty t-shirt up to your ribs. his lips drag over the scorching skin where the heat pack just sat. he bites the soft flesh of your hip, then soothes it with his tongue.
“ryo,” you bite your lip.
his eyes flicker up from your waist, mid-nip. “yeah?”
“you don’t have to.”
“i know,” he kisses your hip, just above the elastic of your panties. “i want to.”
he hooks his fingers into your shorts and yanks, taking your underwear with. the cool air hits your slick, aching core and you gasp. he’s already there, hands shoving your knees apart so he can settle his broad shoulders between your thighs.
“scoot down, baby.” he instructs, grabbing your hips with those big, strong hands and pulling you further down the bed.
you’ve had sex on your period before. sukuna never minded the grit and grime of it all, and a part of you wondered if, really, he found a personal pleasure in fucking his girlfriend while she bled.
the first time you’d been shy about it, he’d looked at you like you’d grown a second head.
it’s just blood, he’d say. i’m a grown man.
but this was different.
because this time, he wanted to eat you out.
“fuck,” he breathes, placing either hand on your thighs and pressing. his eyes are narrowed, lips parted in awe at your pussy.
he leans in, breath tickling your skin as he continues assaulting your thighs with kisses and bites. you’re already squirming when he dives deeper. the flat of his tongue licks a long, vulgar stripe from your entrance riiiiight up to your clit.
“ryo, baby,” you whine, hips bucking. “please don’t be a tease, i’m–”
he wraps his arms around your thighs, locks you down in place, then devours you whole. his mouth is ravenous, pressing flush against your cunt like he’s been starving for it all damn day.
and sure, he’s eaten you out countless times before, but it’s never felt this lewd.
he laps at your slit, hot and messy, then dips his tongue inside just to feel you clench. you slap your hand over the back of his head, fingers threading through the pink locks to pull him closer into you.
“kuna–”
he latches onto your clit and suckles hard. between those quick, ruthless flicks, you can feel the smug curl of his smirk digging into your folds.
“taste so fuckin’ good, bunny,” his voice rumbles against your pussy. “can’t believe you never let me do this before.”
you were far past coy and shame, your back arching with the taut feeling brewing in your gut.
and then, as if his hot tongue wasn’t enough, he shoves two thick fingers inside your red-slick entrance without warning. the stretch is perfect, and before you can even gasp at the fullness, he begins to curl them. they press against your favorite spot over, and over, and over until you’re practically vibrating from stimulation and itching to cum.
and when your hips buck into him again, your boyfriend chuckles against you. he sucks on your clit a final time, popping off with an obscenely wet sound that makes you shudder.
“suku,” you breathe heavily, gazing down at the mop of messy hair peeking over your hips. “don’t stop yet…”
kuna’s eyes are blown with desire, a smirk tugging at his mouth. like a wolf after a hunt, his mouth is stained with a wash of red that suddenly looks torturously attractive to your sex-drunken mind. why haven’t you let him do this before?
he pulls out of you, slick digits rubbing slow, messy circles against your clit for a few languid moments. you’re pretty much ready to burst, eyes shut as you moan raggedly, before he suddenly decides to detach from you completely.
“no,” you whine, feeling the coil in your belly unwinding. “no, no–”
but when your eyes open again, he’s already lying flat on his back, pulling you by the hips.
“sit on my face,” he instructs.
your eyebrow rises, still delirious from your near-climax. “sit on your–”
but you’re being yanked on top of him already, his hands tights against your waist. you yelp at the sudden shift in gravity, leaning your arms against the bedframe for balance.
you look down and–
oh.
his face is right beneath you. slick lips and a sweat-glazed forehead, his dark eyes staring hungrily at your hovering cunt like it’s his last meal.
“sit.”
he doesn’t wait for you to oblige, pulling you down hard. your clit hits his nose, pussy smothering his mouth, and then he gets to work.
his tongue thrusts into your entrance, then drags a looooong, hard stripe up your entire slit. he’s groaning into you, the deep vibrations shooting straight up your spine.
“oh,” your breath catches, “oh, fuck.”
his strong arms flex around your thighs, fingers digging into the soft skin there. and when his pace increases, you feel his nose flicking against your clit with every lap. the sound is obscene. little lap lap lap’s of wetness filling the room alongside your mewls.
so with your body trapped and your orgasm waiting just around the corner, you decide to chase it.
you grind desperately against his face, tits bouncing from the recoil as your pussy rubs greedily against his warm mouth and tongue. his face is smeared with slick, barely able to catch a breath, yet sukuna doesn’t stop.
he takes your pussy like a champ, praising you with low growls that shoot straight through you. his hands travel up to your hips, tracing slow circles like he’s telling you it’s okay, baby. this is how i show my love. use me as you like.
so you do.
through your milky gaze, you catch a glimpse of him looking up at you with those dark, narrowed eyes and a slight furrow in his eyebrow. almost feels like he’s grinning.
and then, just when you thought he couldn’t get any hotter, you feel him chuckle darkly against your clit.
“gonna cum,” you whine. he’s still working steadily at your clit, alternating between long licks and sharp suckles until the coil in your belly reaches an apex. “i-i’m gonna fuckin’ cum–”
he groans against your clit one last time, and the sensation finally sends you over the edge.
“ryo–” you moan. “ryo, ryo, ryo–”
you cum with your head thrown back, knuckles white on the headboard and your thighs clenching so hard you nearly suffocate him. he keeps lapping you through it, drinking in every little sound and spasm until your vision whites out.
your hips continue gyrating lazily against him until you’re a babbling, flushed mess.
“atta girl,” you catch when the ringing in your ears subsides, feeling his lips press a wet kiss to your oversensitive clit. “so fuckin’ pretty like this.”
you use the remnants of your energy to collapse next to him with a loud, satisfied exhale.
he pulls you into his side. you smile in delirium, half-naked and probably a total mess from the waist-down. but you’re so sleepy, and he’s so warm, and you’re in that short moment after climax when nothing matters; you’d change the sheets later.
you’re drifting already, limbs feeling like lead when the mattress shift as he stands up. there’s the rustle of fabric, then footsteps, but you’re too tired to tell him stay.
then a damp towel presses against your thighs, hips, and pussy. enjoying the coolness, you breathe peacefully, letting your sweet boyfriend clean you up from the mess he made.
he crawls back in once he’s done, pulling you into his chest.
“cramps gone?” he asks.
you nod against him, boneless and golden. “thank you.”
“mhm,” his palm finds your belly again, lips pressing to your temple. “just for my girl.”
